…Paramhansaji felt a great joy and contentment in writing. At the desert he devoted most of his time to bringing forth from his own divine ocean of perception rare pearls of wisdom that would inspire all seekers of God. Hours slipped by like minutes. Many many times it was daylight before he would think of stopping, “I dictate scriptural interpretations  and letters all day,” he wrote to a student, “with eyes closed to the world, but open always in heaven.” He had to be constantly reminded of the time; otherwise he would completely forget the body and its needs.

Only a night or two before he left the desert for the last time he was coaxed to stop working, and was about to go for his nightly walk, when he suddenly said, “Get out the typewriter. I am going to dictate something.” The disciples demurred, urging him to rest, but he was adamant. Several hours’ dictation followed, and the sky was beginning to lighten before he ended. Those who had been listening were spellbound by the beauty and depth of the scriptural explanation he had given, but expressed their concern that it had kept him so long. He replied very firmly, “If I hadn’t done it tonight, it would never have been done.”

It was Master’s practice to dictate the text of his new books to disciples who would record his words on a typewriter. Later he would read over the typewritten sheets and make corrections, additions, and so on. His literary works were all creative and inspirational. Unlike those of most scriptural interpreters, Yoganandaji’s books were never a scholarly rearrangement of other men’s opinions. His words sprang spontaneously from the depths of Self-realization. In his commentaries on the Bible, Bhagavad Gita and other sacred texts, Paramhansaji would start his dictation only after receiving the sanction of the Great Ones, whom he beheld with interior vision. Often he would say to disciples: “Christ (or Krishna, or Sri Yukteswarji) is here in this room, smiling a blessing.”

Because Master could converse with rare insight on any subject, many people thought he obtained his knowledge from books.

“You must be extremely well read,” a visitor observed one day. “No,” Yoganandaji replied, “I doubt that I have read twenty books in the past twenty years.”

…During the last weeks at the desert Master spoke with increasing emphasis about the unreality of illusory substance of the world. “See the mountain over there,” he would say. “God has made us think that it is tons upon tons of dirt, standing there solidly. But it is nothing more than an appearance, His dream. This mud-ball of earth whirling through space is held together only by the idea of it in the Creator’s mind.”

One night as he took his usual walk in the intense desert stillness, he looked off into the darkness and prayed to the Divine Mother to release him from his body. “My time is drawing near,” he said later. “God has better things in store for us.”

Picture of Master taken one hour before his Mahasamadhi.

Below are excerpts from The Self Realization Magazine, dated May-June 1952 from Mother Hamilton’s library. We mark the anniversary of Master’s leaving the body and celebrate his life today. When you attune your mind to his life, teachings and spirit you feel uplifted, closer to God. I have combined a few articles to give you a feeling for what was written at the time by close disciples.  I will be posting these in a series, describing Master, his teachings and the last day of this incarnation of our blessed Param-Guru.

The Mahasamadhi of a World Teacher

On March 7^th Pramhansa Yogananda

Left the Body for Omnipresence

By Sister Lauru

Of the Monastic Self-Realization Order

On March 7^th the incarnation of Paramhansa Yogananda came to a perfect close. A life without blemish ended in mahasamadhi (a yogi’s final conscious exit from the body). Death took place a few minutes after Paramhansaji had uttered the final words in a speech at the Biltmore Hotel in Los Angeles. Unstintingly he gave of himself to the very end, to the last breath of his life.

Born a Kshatriya (a member kings and warriors), Yoganandaji died as he had lived; a divine warrior against the chief foe of man—ignorance. He had often said: “I do not want to die in bed, but with my boots on, speaking of God and India.” The Lord fulfilled with exactitude this wish of His devotee.

Paramhansaji’s last days were literally and symbolically bound up with the visit to Los Angeles of the Ambassador from India, Mr. Binay Ranjan Sen. The great guru could not go to India, so India—in the person of her highest foreign representative—came to the guru.

The last photograph of Yoganandaji, taken a few minutes before his death, shows the Ambassador’s wife pronaming to him as he stood to go to the speaker’s stand. By that last beautiful gesture an Indian woman symbolized the respect of her nation for the man who, more than any other son of India, made the perennial wisdom of the rishis known and loved in the West.

Miracle After Death

An article, “The Miracle at Forest Lawn,” appears in this issue, accompanied by a letter from the Mortuary Director of one of America’s largest and most beautiful cemeteries. The Mortuary Director testifies to the truth that Yoganandaji’s body remained “in a phenomenal state of immutability.” For weeks after his passing his unchanged face shone with the divine luster of incorruptibility. This miracle appears to have come to light through the grace of the Heavenly Father, that men might know the goodness of Yoganandaji’s mission on earth. The beautiful phenomena attending Paramhansaji’s death have already aroused profound interest in the soul-revealing possibilities of yoga.

Yoganandaji came to America to fulfill a specific mission, that of spreading in the West a knowledge of yoga techniques by which man can enter into conscious communion with his Creator. Paramhansaji was the last in a line of four gurus[i] who were divinely inspired—directly commanded by God—to teach openly to the modern world the secret yogic science of self-realization that was the glory of ancient India.

“Kriya Yoga, the scientific technique of God-realization, will ultimately spread in all lands, and aid in harmonizing the nations through man’s personal, transcendental perception of the Infinite Father.” With these words Mahavatar Babaji sent Yoganandaji, in 1920, to the West.

The young monk, trained for his high duty for ten years at the Indian hermitage of his guru, Sri Yukteswarji, labored lovingly for more than thirty years in the New World, honoring the trust of the great humanitarian masters behind him. To them and to God, Master gave all the credit for the successful execution of his mission.

“After my passing,” Paramhansaji said, “The SRF teachings will be the guru.” In this way and in many other ways he indicated that the practical interest in yoga he had initiated in the West would continue to grow after his death. Like all other men of God, Master did not emphasize the importance of his own personality but rather the importance to each human being of his own struggle to achieve the life beautiful.

“Divine Union is possible through self-effort, and is not dependent on theological beliefs nor on the arbitrary will of a Cosmic Dictator. Through use of the Kriya Yoga key, persons who cannot bring themselves to believe in the divinity of any man will behold at last the full divinity of their selves.”

During the last three years Paramhansaji withdrew more and more from public life in order to complete a tremendous task of interpreting various scriptures. Shortly before his death he had finished all the writings he had planned. He said to a disciple: “My life work is done.”

Great devotees of God, the Hindu scriptures tell us, are given forewarning of their departure from this earth. A true yogi, unlike the unenlightened man, is never rudely surprised by Death. Yoganandaji had been aware of the general plan of his life ever since his youthful years with his omniscient guru, Sri Yukteswar. Master well knew his life would not be a long one. “I shall not live to be old,” he told a disciple in 1924…

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[Master is on my mind: I thought you would find this an interesting description of Richard Wright, when he  and Master had the darshan of the saint Kara Patri at the Kumbha Mela. Master gave a description of this meeting in the Autobiography of a Yogi, but of course Richard had his own observations and it is plain that both Master and Richard were very impressed with this yogi. Master had gone to the Kumbha Mela in hopes of seeing Babaji, but the great master chose not to reveal himself during his visit to the Mela. However, Master did meet with some of India’s great saints in 1936, including Anandamayi Ma, Mahatma Gandhi, Swami Keshabananda, and many more. Although the focus of the writing is not specifically on Master, it does give some sense of the journey in India Richard was on with Master.]

Picture: Yoganandaji at the Kumbha Mela in Allahabad

Visit with
Kara Patri
By Richard Wright
Inner Culture, November 1936

I quote the following from my notes of Jan. 27, 1936:

The scene is laid near Allahabad at the junction of the Ganges and Jumna Rivers, during the Kumbha Mela, the great gathering of Sadhus and Seekers, held every three and six years. We next drove down the river bed (Ganges) to the undernourished sacred river. Alighting and treading some distance through the thickening smoke and treacherous sands, we approached a cluster of tiny, very modest straw huts. Suddenly, we drew up before one of these insignificant, temporary huts with its pigmy doorless entrance, the shelter of a young, wandering Sadhu, or mendicant, noted for his exceptional intelligence and capacities, named Kara Patri. There he sat, cross-legged in a pile of straw, his only covering, and incidentally his only possession, being an ochre cloth draped over his shoulders; and this was only temporary, for soon warm days would come.

Truly a divine face smiled at us as we crawled into the hut on all fours and pronamed at the feet of this enlightened Soul, while the kerosene lantern at the entrance flickered weird, dancing shadows on the thatched walls. His face, especially his eyes and teeth, beamed and glistened with the blessing of simplicity and freedom, “doing everything with the searchlight on God.”

Although I was puzzled by the Hindi, his expressions were very revealing, as he was full of enthusiasm, fire, introspection, love, happiness, divine glory, freedom, and all the other divine qualities. No one could be mistaken as to his greatness. Imagine the happy life of one unattached to a material life, free of most clothing, wearing only one cloth; free of food craving, never begging; never touching cooked food except on alternate days; no begging bowl; eats only one meal a day generally; free of all money entanglements, never handling money; never storing things away, always trusting in God; free of transportation difficulties, never riding in vehicles, but always walking on the banks of the River Ganges, or others; never remaining in one place longer than one week in order to avoid becoming attached to anything.

Such a modest Soul! free of worldly entanglements and struggles, but unusually learned, having read all the religious Scriptures, the Vedas (very lengthy), Vedanta, and so forth, and with an M. A. degree in four subjects, with the title of “Shastri” (master of Sanskrit) from the BenaresUniversity.

A grand feeling pervaded throughout as we sat at this Saint’s feet and listened to his noble expositions. It all seemed to be an answer to my desire to see the real, the ancient India, for he is the true representative of this land of Spiritual Kings. We bade pronam and reluctantly departed from this embodiment of God and Man, grateful for his hospitality and spirit.

And so, if I have not been too vague, you will see that there is something to this world of ours after all. Such men as I have just described come on earth to elevate those of us who are caught in the muck and mire of these passing fancies and pleasures.

 [This is a continuation of excerpts from Kamala’s (a name Master gave her meaning lotus) book The Flawless Mirror. These personal memoirs give an intimate view of Paramhansa Yogananda, or as she simply refers to him as Swami. Several of you commented on the last writing, which I always love to hear from you regarding these writings. So, in continuation of honoring Master’s birthday here is more from Kamala.]

It was in midsummer when there was a knock at our door and Swami, smiling, was there. He had come to California for his vacation, arriving at Manhattan Beach in July (1927). We felt blessed that he was with us. Mother and I were aware of his great spiritual stature, yet his simplicity of manner allowed our very special respect for him to blend naturally with the friendship he gave us. He brought an atmosphere of joyousness.

During his visit, Mother and I motored with him to Santa Barbara and stayed at our home there. The town had a very leisurely feeling at the time; no one ever seemed in a hurry, which gave a sense of tranquility that we liked. The days were lovely and warm. Swami swam at the beach. We went on some of the nearby scenic drives, which were very beautiful and were settings for spiritual inspiration.

One afternoon while driving, my Guru went into a state of Samadhi. He was outwardly still, inwardly absorbed in God—his consciousness completely interiorized. I was aware of this and when the car arrived at the house, and Mother and chauffeur went indoors, I hesitated, not knowing if he wished anyone to remain, or to be alone. So I stayed for a little while, very quiet, and then went inside. He came in later. I realized, some time after, that when he entered into a state of deep communion, a disciple was privileged to remain and meditate with him, and receive the blessing of being near.

He brought with him a harmonium—an Indian instrument with organ tones and a piano-like keyboard. He used it to accompany his chanting at our evening meditations.

Once we drove to Pismo Beach, many miles up the coast, and had dinner there. We always found Swami dear to be with, and his sense of humor was a kind that seemed to bubble over and everyone enjoyed things twice as much.

On our return drive to Manhattan Beach he told me that he had seen many of his past lives and from them he had learned that the soul would accept nothing for long that was not perfection. He said: No human being can give the joy that God can give; go to God always; give Him your life.”

During these summer days friends occasionally stopped by and met Swami. In all environments he was gracious and quiet in manner. Through this quietness he imparted a warmth and sweetness felt by all.

I asked Swami what I could do in addition to the Yogoda lessons which I followed. He told me, “Meditate longer, with greater intensity, for otherwise the mind only nibbles and no realization will come.”

He suggested that I go on a specific type of diet for a time and I did, benefitting tremendously in health and energy. He also penciled this list:

1. Meditation 2. Dignity 3. Perfect Cooperation 4. Diet 5. Giving no cause of criticism 6. “Make yourself better and serve to please.” 7. Seclusion is the price of spiritual greatness.

Shortly afterward Swami left with his driver for Pismo Beach to meditate. The now-thriving little sea town was then mostly rolling sand dunes. He remained there a few days. When he returned, the chauffeur said to Mother in a perplexed tone: “I don’t know what he was doing, but he just sat out there among the sand dunes, facing the ocean, and stayed there every day, all day long.”

Swami returned after these days in God-communion with the effulgence of that time upon him, and as he came into the room I remained quiet, sensing his inner rapture. He spoke words to God, of me, precious and sacred; then said solemnly, “Only speak to me of God.” In that vibrant bliss in which he had remained in unbroken communion, it would have been painful and restricting to turn his gaze from his absorption in the Infinite to any other topic.

One facet of his true saintliness lay in his willingness and ability to meet the noisy world of constant public life and cope with every duty and yet stay permanently in the sanctuary of inner beatitude. Here, now, he could roam in the Cosmic Vastness without even a part of his mind having to turn to the multitudinous affairs of daily life. As Jesus went to the mountain top to pray, my Guru had gone by the ocean to commune with the Heavenly Father.

A few days later Swami left California. He bade us goodbye and said he would keep us in his prayers. His fall itinerary included Minneapolis, St. Paul, and Philadelphia.