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Date Posted: 12:17:19 05/19/05 Thu
Author: Anon - 8 Apr 2005
Subject: Touched by Fire Part I

Excerpted from
Touched by Fire
by
Pandit Rajmani Tigunait, Ph.D.



The Power of Mantra

One evening when I visited Swami Sadananda, I found his ashram unusually quiet. He was sitting on his wooden cot under the tree by himself. Despite the natural quietude that always surrounded him, he was in a jolly mood. I did not want to disturb his peace, but as soon as I offered my respect and sat before him, he said with a chuckle, “People come here with all kinds of questions. You are the only one who has no questions for me.”

“The love and guidance that you have given me so generously has taken care of all of my questions. But still, I have a great deal of curiosity,” I said.

“What is that curiosity?”

“What is the source of miracles? How do miracles work? You are a treasure-house of miracles—I wish I could learn something from you.”

“Be more precise,” Swamiji said. “Tell me, exactly what kind of miracle do you want to see and learn?”

“Especially that which pertains to spiritual healing,” I said.

Swamiji answered, “I can teach you. There are techniques that can be used for a quick fix. Practicing such techniques does not require too much preparation. However, they require that you are disciplined and that you follow the instructions without the slightest deviation. But remember, healing performed through such techniques does not address the main cause. What you see as a spiritual cure is simply momentary relief.

“There is another form of healing that requires a great deal of preparation. Inner purification is at the core of that preparation. Coming in touch with the divine will is the prerequisite for practicing this higher form of spiritual healing. In this form of healing, the healer himself is the first recipient of the fruits of his practice. The healing force spontaneously flows from him. His selfless love carries the healing force to all those around him. It takes very little time to learn but a long time to practice. So tell me, which kind of healing do you want to learn?”

I said, “Swamiji, first, please teach me the quick one. Once I see its result and how it works, I will have a greater motivation to learn something higher.”

Swamiji said, “I’ll teach you, but promise that you will not misuse it—that you will not use it to earn money and that you will not show off.”

I gave my promise. He continued, “A long time ago, I went on an extensive pilgrimage. I traveled throughout India, the Himalayan kingdoms, and Tibet, all the way to the Middle Eastern countries. Returning from Mecca and Medina, I was passing through Sindh, which is now part of Pakistan. There, I met a fakir [mystic]. For a few days I stayed with him. When I was leaving, he passed on a healing mantra to me, along with instructions for how to practice it. Today, I am going to pass on the same mantra to you. From now on, it will become yours.” With this, he closed his eyes for a few moments, and then whispered a mantra in my right ear.

The mantra was in Hindi. It included the names of gods, goddesses, saints, and mystics from both the Hindu and Islamic pantheon. Since the mantra was in Hindi, I understood its meaning. At first, I found both the mantra and its meaning bizarre. But because I respected Swamiji and had full faith in him, I accepted this long piece of prose as a mantra. Swamiji explained how to assimilate the power of the mantra into my psyche. This assimilation procedure, too, sounded bizarre. He told me to memorize the mantra and to go to the cremation ground during the next lunar eclipse, fix my seat, sit in a cross-legged position, and recite the mantra for as long as the eclipse lasted. Once I started the practice, I must not get up. That’s what I did.

Not too far away from Swamiji’s ashram, there was a cremation ground. Cremation grounds in India are normally located in desolate places, such as on riverbanks or at the outskirts of human settlements. Even today, you may find jackals and wild dogs roaming around these grounds at night. These places are said to be the abode of ghosts, spirits, and goblins. The cremation ground I chose was no exception.

I selected the spot in the light of day. Then, with flashlight, incense, and matchstick in hand, I arrived at the spot almost an hour before the eclipse started. It was late at night. As instructed by Swamiji, I drew a protective line around my seat with proper rituals. When the time came, I burned incense and began the recitation of the mantra. During the practice, I heard strange sounds that I attributed to the howling of distant jackals. I also saw some images appearing here and there. I told myself that I must be hallucinating. I concluded the practice with disappointment. I had been hoping that I would have an unusual or startling experience. “All I experienced,” I said to myself, “was the howling of jackals and some images appearing in my mind due to the fear of being in a lonely place.” The next day, when I told Swamiji about my uneventful practice, he assured me that I had assimilated the power of the mantra, and that it would definitely work whenever I used it.

Two years passed, and I almost forgot that I had ever done this practice. Then, one day during the month-long Magh Mela on the banks of the Ganga, I visited a holy man. The next day was a special bathing day and his campsite was full of pilgrims. Among them was a farmer from a nearby village who planned to spend the night at this holy man’s camp, take a bath early in the morning, and leave before the crowds pushed in. But by the time he arrived at the camp, he had fallen sick. The holy man learned that, due to sickness, this pilgrim could not eat his dinner. So in the late evening, the holy man sent a servant to this pilgrim with a glass of milk. The servant returned with the undelivered milk, informing the saint that the gentleman was possessed. By chance, I was present when the servant returned with the news that the pilgrim was possessed. I had never seen a possessed person. I wanted to see how such a person looked, so I quietly walked out of the saint’s tent and went to find the pilgrim.

By the time I reached him, it had turned into a real scene. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot, and he was rocking violently. From time to time, his whole body rose three to four feet in the air and then dropped to the ground with a thud. The poor fellow was bruised all over. A score of people stood around him, watching and making remarks to each other. Suddenly, I remembered the mantra I had practiced at the cremation ground. This was the perfect time to test it. I recited the mantra in my mind. In the middle of this long, prose-like mantra, there was a blank space. I was supposed to fill this blank space with the phrase requesting the mantric energy to heal the person the way I wished. As soon as I did that, the pilgrim returned to normal, although he was still feeling very weak.

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