Nicola Barker - The Cauliflower

Nag Mahashay lived by the holy maxim that “He who has controlled his tongue has controlled everything.”

He never applied sugar or saltto his food in case it might excite his palate into desiring more.

Nag Mahashay could not bear to hear Sri Ramakrishna challenged or criticized. On one occasion he was present when a wealthy denizen of Calcutta was insulting Sri Ramakrishna. He gently asked the individual to desist. This approach did not work. The insults continued. So Nag Mahashay ripped a shoe off the man’s foot and beat him with it, frenziedly, until he fled.

Girish Chandra Ghosh, the great Bengali playwright, once, out of love and pity, presented Nag Mahashay with a blanket, even though he knew that Nag Mahashay was too full of the spirit of renunciation and humility to accept gifts. Nag Mahashay accepted the gift so as not to insult Girish, promptly placing it, neatly folded, upon his head. A while later, a mutual acquaintance of Nag Mahashay and Girish went to visit Nag Mahashay in his humble village home. Throughout their meeting Nag Mahashay kept the blanket gift of Girish’s balanced on his head. It transpired that Nag Mahashay had felt unable to remove the blanket from his head since his first having taken receipt of it. Girish was then obliged to invent some subtle ruse whereby he might take the gift back again without offending Nag Mahashay. There is little doubt that Girish’s literary skills will have played a helpful role in successfully resolving this curious escapade.

Nag Mahashay’s spiritual worldview meant that he had an inordinate respect and empathy for all other creatures, including plants. He would feel their hunger and their thirst. Although agonizingly poor, he would buy live catches of fish from fishermen and then release them back into the wild. A group of European hunters once came to Nag Mahashay’s village to hunt birds. Nag Mahashay asked them to stop, but they did not understand his native tongue. So Nag Mahashay — alone and unarmed — attacked them, singlehandedly relieved them of all of their rifles, and promptly absconded with them.

Nag Mahashay would never kill an insect and was especially protective of ants. On one occasion a dangerous cobra entered the courtyard of his home. He spoke to it gently and then accompanied it back to the jungle. On another occasion he was washing his feet when a water snake violently bit his toe. Nag Mahashay refused to withdraw his foot, just left it where it was and muttered, “He means no harm. He has simply mistaken my toe for his food.”

Toward the end of his life, although he often suffered from extreme ill health, if anyone visited his home Nag Mahashay would instantly invite them to stay and give up his meager bed. He would offer his hospitality so humbly that people would generally feel compelled to accept it. Nag Mahashay and his wife would then sleep on the kitchen floor. On one such occasion a feral cat jumped onto Nag Mahashay’s head and clawed his eye as he was sleeping. His eye was badly scratched, but instead of being enraged he happily exclaimed, “God visited me in the form of a cat to punish me for my bad karma ! This is truly the grace of God!”

When a young devotee visited Nag Mahashay’s home during the monsoon season and Nag Mahashay realized that they had no dry firewood to prepare him a warm meal, he took up an ax and commenced cutting down one of the supporting poles of his cottage so that he might burn it as fuel. On being asked to desist he exclaimed, “What kind of a person would I be if I could not give up my attachment to this humble cottage for someone who has visited me in such terrible conditions?”

When the Holy Mother (Ramakrishna’s wife, or “spiritual consort”) gave Nag Mahashay a piece of mango to eat, instead of placing it into his mouth he delightedly rubbed it all over his head. The Holy Mother was then obliged to feed him what little then remained, calmly but firmly, by hand.

Such was Nag Mahashay’s sensitivity to all life that he refused to cut back the large clumps of bamboo that were persistently growing through the walls of his home. He’d say, “How can I destroy something which I have not the power to create?”

Nag Mahashay would never let others serve him. If he paid for a river crossing he would always insist on taking the oars himself. On one occasion, when the roof of his cottage was collapsing, his wife took the opportunity of hiring a thatcher while he was away, knowing that while present, Nag Mahashay would refuse the service of others. Unfortunately he returned home early and became so distressed at the sight of the roofer — hitting his own head, repeatedly — that the roofer was obliged to climb down from the roof, where he was then fanned by Nag Mahashay, served tobacco, paid in full, and sent away.

During Ekadashi (or the eleventh day of the moon, an excellent time for fasting) Nag Mahashay went to visit Sri Ramakrishna but would not eat. To get around this, Sri Ramakrishna touched the food, to sanctify it so that Nag Mahashay could eat it in the form of prasad . Such was Nag Mahashay’s devotional fervor, though, that he not only ate the food but he promptly — much to everyone’s profound consternation — consumed the palm-leaf plate on which it was served.

The thatched roof of a close neighbor’s home once caught on fire, and the flames threatened to engulf Nag Mahashay’s cottage, too. Other villagers were frantically trying to locate and quench the flying sparks, but Nag Mahashay merely stood calmly by and watched. When his wife ran inside to try and save a few of their meager possessions, Nag Mahashay roundly chastised her. “What is this?! The great Brahma, God of Fire, has come to visit us, and instead of worshipping him you think only of worldly possessions? Shame on you!” He then yelled “Victory to Sri Ramakrishna!” and danced, exultantly, around and around the courtyard.

Like — as they say — attracts like.

Diamond cuts diamond.

Victory to Durga Charan Nag! Victory to Sri Ramakrishna!

( Nag Mashahay now rapidly exits, stage left, pursued by a tiger .)

1860. Sri Ramakrishna earnestly entreats:

“Oh please, Ma Kali,

Find a rich benefactor

To fund all my needs!”

Winter 1858, at the Dakshineswar Kali Temple (six miles north of Calcutta)

Uncle will never tell me what he sees during his many trances. Because I, Hridayram, am insignificant, I suppose. And I ask Uncle all of the wrong questions. I am ignorant in such matters. I irritate Uncle. Uncle insists that mystical experiences and visions cannot be described in words. Language both cheapens and tarnishes them. And these things are very precious to Uncle. They are his great secret.

What I can say for certain, though, is that after Uncle’s deep trance following his exploits with the ceremonial sword in the Kali Temple, he found himself unable to perform even the most basic of tasks for many weeks. Because Uncle was drunk on spiritual bliss. He could not walk in a straight line. And what few rules still remained in his mind concerning the arati Uncle now completely abandoned.

I tended to Uncle as though he was a baby. I cleaned Uncle and I fed him. I patted Uncle’s back when he had indigestion. And Uncle burped. I took over most of Uncle’s worship at the Kali Temple. Uncle was a full-time job.

Mathur Baba had been informed about the incident with the sword and he often came to the temple to visit Uncle. He was infatuated by Uncle. He would sit at the back of the shrine room and watch Uncle singing, hour after hour, to the Goddess. Uncle wooed the Goddess with the holy songs of Chaitanya. Uncle would have lengthy conversations with the Goddess. Uncle was flirtatious. Uncle was often full of mischief and girlish sass. He would touch the offerings to his own head and hands and feet and then offer them to the Goddess with a coy giggle. Uncle would dance and jiggle around. Uncle would feed the Goddess bits of food. He would say, “Will you take this lovely bit of luchi , Ma? No? Not until I eat some myself? You want me to try it for you, Ma? Like this? Do you see? I am eating it, Ma. It is delicious! Are you happy now, Ma? Will you eat some now, Ma?”