A Weeping Statue

A Weeping Statue I often visited Uttarvrindavan, an ashram in the Himalayas, and did satsanga with Krishna Prem (Professor Nixon) and Anand Bikkhu (Dr. Alexander). These two Europeans, one of whom had been a professor of English and the other a professor of medicine, were disciples of Yashoda Ma, a female mystic from Bengal. They lived quietly, avoiding visitors. During those days Krishna Prem was writing two books: one was The Yoga of the Bhagavad Gita, and the other The Yoga of the Kathopanishad. They were later published in London. They had sufficient funds to meet their daily expenses, so they were not dependent on others. Their way of living was very simple, neat, and clean. They were very particular in cooking their meals, not allowing anyone to come into their kitchen.

By then Yashoda Ma had left her body and they had built a memorial to her, called “Samadhi.” At the top of the monument a beautiful marble statue of Krishna had been installed. On one of my visits shortly after the statue was installed I noticed that Krishna Prem was wearing something on his arm. I asked him about it and he said, “You won’t believe me.” I said, “Please explain it to me.”

He replied, “You intellectualize everything and I’m afraid you might think I have gone crazy, but I will tell you. Fifteen days ago the statue of Krishna which was installed on the memorial started flowing tears. The tears dripped from the statue continuously. We dismantled the base of the statue to see if there was some source of the seeping water, but found nothing. There was no way that water could come up through the statue and flow from its eyes. When we put the statue back in place the tears began to flow once more.

This made me very sad. I decided that I must be committing some mistake in my sadhana and that Ma was not happy with me. To keep myself ever reminded of this I took some cotton, soaked it in the tears, and put it in the locket which I am now wearing on my arm. What I am telling you is true, and I know why this is happening. Don’t tell anyone about this. They will think that I have gone insane.”

I said, “I don’t doubt your integrity. Please explain to me why it occurs.” He said, “The guru guides from the other side in many ways. This is an instruction to me. I have become lazy. Instead of doing my evening sadhana I have been retiring early. It was her habit to remind us whenever we fell into the grip of sloth and missed our practice. This has to be the right explanation.” He became very serious and then started to sob.

His love for his guru was immense, and this inspired me.

Love for guru is the first rung on the ladder to the Divine. But this love is not love for the human form.

source: Living with the Himalayan Masters by Swami Rama

Leave a Reply