At Belur Math, Part 1

By Swapna Ray

I know you not; never before
And yet, my soul seeks you.
Within your infinite, I join my dots;
We build our lives anew. 

--Rabindranath Tagore

The years 2021 and 2022 have been devastating for most of us. With horror in our eyes and unimaginable grief in our hearts, we have counted the deaths of our most near and dear ones succumbing to COVID! There is this thing about tragedy – that fine line between feeling it and experiencing it – up close, and personal! From miles and miles away, we could only grapple with the feeling of personal losses, with the lump of regret lodged in our throats - of not having the power to embrace the grief with our personal experiences! No wonder I did not feel the urge to return to my roots.  But as luck would have it, I did have to visit my homeland around the end of January 2023 due to some personal work.

My younger sister had come to receive me at the airport. As the car left the gates of the airport and its wheels rolled into the city, I told myself to embrace the new reality and set free the bird that had longingly clung to the memories of a long-lost childhood! So, instead of choosing to head towards my ancestral home, I chose to stay in the empty house of a friend. There were the pictures of Sri Ramakrishna and Ma Sarada Devi placed at my bedside table. Discovering them beside me, within moments, my soul discovered familiarity in the hitherto unknown place. 

A Living Flame--Shape is Gone, Spirit Continues to Shine: Pt. 2

By Swami Yogatmananda

A correction to what has been stated in the first blog: The documented records painstakingly collected and sent to me show that I became acquainted with Father Paul in 2002; and his maiden speech here was on Sept 20, 2003, at our 75th Anniversary Celebration, alongside the late Rev. Swami Swahananda, the then head of our Hollywood Center and the Chief Guest of the 75 Anniversary Celebration. 

Father Paul came to Providence Vedanta and stayed overnight so many times. On many such occasions he would take a train from Boston South Station and myself or someone else from here would pick him up from the train station. Sometimes he preferred to walk uphill – especially when the weather was nice – so that he could get the needed exercise. He had taken up the teaching of Religious French language at Harvard. He was also running his own Church at his Somerville apartment. Occasionally, his student Louis Carlos would accompany him. We spent hours discussing spiritual matters, lives of saints. We both had this common interest: St. John of the Cross. 

He was a wonderful, jovial conversationalist and had a deep sense of humor – the humor that does not put anyone down, nor does it pull the mind down.