Charu Chandra Deb Sarkar

Charu-Da — Bhater

(Charu Chandra Deb Sarkar)

Who will pray, he must fast and be clean
And fat his soul, and make his body lean.

Chaucer, the Summoner’s Tale

I could see his lean body, it couldn’t be leaner. But his soul was beyond my ken. Let’s hold judgment till later (if one can judge).

Who is this, another Charu Chandra? (We have already met two — C. C. Dutt, known as Dadu and C. C. Mukherji known as Bula-da.) This Charu-da is quite a bit different and quite a bit similar to the other two. The similarity, of course was — they were all devoted children of the Mother. We, the other children, gave him the title “BHATER Charu” = Charu of the Rice. Actually Dadoo and Bula-da were never referred to as “Charus”. But there were some more “Charus”, so the title “Bhater”. (The why will be clarified later.)

Charu-da was born long, long ago in 1887 in the village Mala, in Bengal, on the 17th of November. His family was quite well-to-do, and possessed cultivable lands. In 1907, at the age of 20 Charu-da was in Calcutta (Kolkata). He was a student of Arts in the Intermediate course at the Ripon College. It was about this time that he came across the paper Bande Mataram — whose editor was Sri Aurobindo Ghose. One of the students of English used to read the paper aloud to the others. A spark was lit in young Charu — he did not feel its tingle yet, though he thought that this man, the author, was a very learned man. Those were the days when Khudiram was arrested and hanged, and the country was seething with unrest. Sri Aurobindo too was arrested. Some young men were collecting money to help Sri Aurobindo’s cause. When approached for a contribution, Charu said: “I don’t know the man, nor do I know much about his principles. Why should I pay for him? Why does he do such things as to land himself in jail?” But as his friends persisted, and seeing some others give Re. 1/to Rs. 10/or even ½ a rupee — Charu said: “All right, because you have tried so hard, I will give you an anna (1/16 of a rupee = now 6 paise). If you are not satisfied I will not give you anything!”

Many of the students supported Suren Banerjee or Rashbehari Bose. (There were two factions in the Congress party then, one under Rashbehari and the other under Bal Gangadhar Tilak.) In one meeting in College square, Charu was present when Sri Aurobindo spoke. He spoke softly. Though Charu could not hear much, he was impressed. Something touched his soul. The spark was being fanned; Sri Aurobindo’s appearance and bearing also touched Charu. He found Sri Aurobindo to be simple and austere, tendencies which he had himself so admired.

Charu, though he was beginning to admire Sri Aurobindo, had more respect for the moderates — S. N. Banerjee and Rashbehari Bose. Sri Aurobindo and B. G. Tilak were in the opposite camp, extremists. Charu bought photos of S. N. Banerjee and Sri Aurobindo. He framed the first with an 8-anna (1/2 Rupee) frame and Sri Aurobindo’s with one of 3 Annas! He was as yet swayed more by S. N. B. whom he took to be the leader of the nation. But slowly the tide in him was turning in favour of Aurobindo Babu. Below the picture it was mentioned that Aurobindo Babu had given up a job of Rs. 800/and taken up one for Rs. 100/— a great sacrifice. Another event went against S.N.B. At a conference that Charu had attended, S. N. Banerjee raised a sum of Rs. 10,000/-. This was to be spent for development work in the villages. Charu had a school in his village, and was expecting some funds to reach his school. But alas, nothing came. This annoyed Charu. Then he also heard that Sri Aurobindo had written about the Vedas and the Gita. So more “advantage” Sri Aurobindo! These were but the external reasons. Some inner chords were plucked and his soul was set astir, the flame was catching. Now Charu’s heart was moving on a new and different path. Charu subscribed to the magazines Karmayogin, Bande Mataram, Dharma — and he was fully convinced that Sri Aurobindo was the man to follow, that he was the Future of the Nation. Charu even went to an astrologer to find out if Sri Aurobindo, who was in prison, would be freed — so anxious was he. (The astrologer did assure Charu that Sri Aurobindo would be freed. The man himself seemed anxious that Sri Aurobindo be freed.)

Charu reading Sri Aurobindo’s writings, came across one, wherein it was strongly advocated that “…schools should be under national control”. Charu immediately resolved never to approach the Government for help, which would amount to Rs. 25/anyway. He himself volunteered to teach without a salary and would give Rs. 3/every month to the school. Some of his friends agreed with his plan, though some were not so convinced. A dividing line was faintly appearing. Incidentally, we have here, with us, a young man Charu had recruited as a teacher in his school. He is Benoy-da; he is an old Ashramite, now 101 years old. He used to work in the D.R. (Dining Room) filling sugar tins. He was quite a good runner — light on his feet and he had a good style. Now he is bent double, but moves about on his own power. He saw and sees the world around him quite well with one eye. The other gives a glassy stare — for it is of glass.

Charu continued to work in and for the school. All the while his admiration for and faith in Sri Aurobindo grew. He even started “Japa”, i.e. repeating Sri Aurobindo’s name in the evenings. He read

“Hymn to Durga” but was not sure he understood it. At that time he read an article on Hathayoga, but concluded that it was not an indispensable part of the yoga Sri Aurobindo practised (during His imprisonment). But Charu was puzzled. He thought: “Then what yoga is Sri Aurobindo practising? Sri Aurobindo is a Rishi. But where are his matted locks, where his ochre robes, his rudraksha mala, his kamandalu?” etc. Thus questioning, it dawned on him that the present-day Rishi needed not all these external signs. His achievements may be hidden. Charu concluded too, through all these clashing thoughts, that to “preach without practising” is to fail in any endeavour, to impart knowledge of Brahma without being a Brahmagyani was an impossibility. He thought of all the difficulties that the Nation was facing: “Who can solve all these tremendous problems? It needs an ideal man, a “Rishi”. Who is that Rishi? Sri Aurobindo — was the answer — He is that ideal man, the Rishi — but where is he?”

For Sri Aurobindo had disappeared from the scene. Some said he had gone to a lonely place to continue his yoga. Some others said that he had gone to a foreign country — even Germany! There was no pucca news about him.

It was now dangerous to take Sri Aurobindo’s name, or sympathise with Him or exhibit His photograph and read his books openly. Once the police did come to search Charu’s house. Someone unfavourably disposed towards Charu pointed out to the sub-inspector a photo of Sri Aurobindo in the meditation room. The SI looked and shrugged it off saying, “Oh! That has no great bearing on our search. These photos are sold in the open market.” The SI also noticed some copies of Karmayogin and Dharma. He later took Charu aside and told him to remove them. Charu thanked the SI and sent up a silent prayer to his Guru.

Those were troubled times. Charu tried to put into practice Sri Aurobindo’s ideas of Education. Charu introduced new books like Brain of India, Uttarpara Speech, etc. as text books. New concepts such as not to impose a mass of books on the students were tried out. Some of the teachers asked: “What — no books?” “Why is religion being introduced?” Those concepts bothered them. Charu himself had found it difficult at first to grasp what Sri Aurobindo thought, wrote and spoke about. It was doubly difficult to explain to others even what he understood. Most of them (Indians) were used to think or were led to think and work under yokes — of foreign rule, or orthodoxy and tradition. Sri Aurobindo’s thoughts were new, revolutionary and scary to most then (to many even now). The students were more amenable to the new, revolutionary ideas than the teachers. The latter were stuck with some old and orthodox methods. Some parents were afraid to enrol their children in such a school. But Charu persisted.

Some “incidents” (if we may so name them) buoyed persons like Charu. One of Charu’s friends had an experience. Charu and some friends used to worship (perform pooja) before a photo of Sri Aurobindo. They offered some flat rice (chidé), puffed rice (mudi) and a banana. They often wondered how to know that the Lord had accepted the offering! One night one of them “saw” Sri Aurobindo and “heard” Him say: “I have accepted your offering.” The devotee then addressed Sri Aurobindo: “I have heard you are a portion of Sri Krishna (Vishnu). Show me your four arms, like He has.” He was amazed and through tears of joy saw Sri Aurobindo with four arms, with “Shankha, Gada, Chakra and Kamal” (Conch, Mace, Disc and Lotus). But he noticed with some consternation that the mala (garland) they had put on the photo was missing on the Lord of his vision. The dream-vision ended.

He got off his bed, lit a lamp and hastened to the Pooja Room. To his greater amazement he found that the mala had fallen off the photo, the string had snapped. He collected the flowers, restrung the mala and put it back where it belonged. (Some say “seeing is believing” — but often believing gives sight.)

Then there were some rumours trickling down that Sri Aurobindo had gone to Chandernagore and then “no — he has left Chandernagore and gone to Pondicherry” (out of British India). Then Haradhan Bakshi (known to us as one of the Among the Not So Great,) came over and took Charu along with some others to Chandernagore. The occasion at Chandernagore was the celebration of the 22nd birth anniversary of Sri Motilal Roy. Charu and his friends went there with an eagerness, hoping to meet Sri Aurobindo also. They were in for a great disappointment — for He was not there.

After the celebration Charu and friends returned to Mala. Haradhan Bakshi accompanied them. They brought some new land under cultivation. Charu himself ploughed the fields. He was full of enthusiasm for he thought the produce could be sent to Sri Aurobindo. They (Haradhan too) wanted to start a new school named “Prabartak Sangha Vidyapith”. Then Haradhan slowly revealed to them that Aurobindo Babu had cut himself away, right from the roots, from all those Sanghas. They heard too that Sri Aurobindo had asked Motilal to stay back at Pondicherry. But Motilal went back to Chandernagore. Matters did not go so well and Charu broke off from the Sangha. A plan for Haradhan to go to Pondicherry to sort out matters also fell through. One Mr. Kirti Chandra Gangopadhyaya said he could go to Pondicherry — but had no money. He was given Rs. 15/to go, but he did not go. Nothing seemed to be working. Then after all these efforts and false starts, Charu along with Haradhan left for Pondicherry on the Vijayadasami Day of 1925.

That was Charu in Bengal in the earlier part of the past century. It was but a preparation — a ploughing and a sowing. We will come to the “harvest” — reaped what? Who harvested? Maybe what follows could reveal the answers!

Charu-da at Pondicherry

Charu-da sallied forth from his old familiar haunts and origins towards his avowed Gurus and a new life. Charu-da came to Pondicherry on the 3rd of October, 1925. He met Sri Aurobindo and a new chapter opened. There is an interesting, very tellable story — could be related to this “new chapter opening”. Charu-da met Sri Aurobindo and was talking to Him. He (Sri Aurobindo), educated as he was in pucca British ways, kept repeating, at appropriate intervals: “I see… I see.” This puzzled and alarmed Charu-da, a pucca Bengali, much steeped in the traditions of rural bengal. Charu-da thought: “What is He seeing? Something perhaps not so good inside me.” (The story goes a step further — Charu-da, the next day, buttoned his kurta higher up so that Sri Aurobindo would not “see” too much. But, the Guru kept saying, “I see… I see” all the same! It was much later that Charu-da came to know that it was quite an innocent “Angrezi” way of letting the speaker know that he was with the speaker, that he was listening. Thus did Charu-da come under Sri Aurobindo’s scrutiny and care.

Charu-da was lodged in the room in Atelier near the Gate — to the right (ground floor). Next to him was another old-timer, a Telugu gentleman, the late Krishnayya — an interesting man himself. Charu-da did not stay too long, then left for Bengal. When in Bengal Charu-da fell quite ill. At that time, when he lay feeling physically miserable, he had a darshan (vision) of Lord Narayana. Charu-da identified Him as Sri Aurobindo. He returned to Pondicherry in 1928. During his first stay here, a Frenchman named Barbier Saint Hilaire arrived. He was later named “Pavitra” by Sri Aurobindo (all would, or should be knowing him. He was a great man by all accounts. Suffice it to say he was very close to the Mother, a yogi, Her “sarathi”, and the first Director of Education of our school. He was a scholar and scientist. He had already searched far and wide for a Guru — from France to Mongolia and finally found them (Mother and Sri Aurobindo) here — but all that is another story for another day. When Pavitra-da arrived, he was put to work for Charu-da!! (Can anyone imagine such a scenario now: a newly arrived sadhak given to work for another older sadhak!?) Pavitra-da humbly went about doing the work assigned to him. But Charu-da was not completely pleased. He did not very much relish the fact that a “Christian” should be his worker — specially touch his drinking water (kuja). He did allow the water to be brought, but later discreetly threw away that water and brought some himself! Then Charu-da left for Bengal, maybe to settle and finish some halfdone work there. He came back in 1928 on the 4th of April. (Sri Aurobindo had arrived here on the same day 18 years earlier.) Charu-da came and enquired: “Kothai amar shaheb chakor?” (where is my white servant?) But by then Pavitra-da had passed his test and moved on, to be closer to and serve the Mother. (Pavitra-da had started a workshop — the precursor of present Atelier.)

Charu-da too moved on, he was put in charge of the Dining Room counter. He served then as faithfully as any. The brand of faith that some of the old-timers mustered, which ruled their lives here, which saw them through many ups and downs, would seem to us now too rigid, cumbersome and somewhat straight-laced. But then who draws, or where to draw the line between “good” and “too good” in such matters? Let’s move on with the story. Then came along a young man — (late) Ravindra-ji. He was made the “in-charge” of the counter in D.R. Charu-da stepped down and continued working, without even a whisper of resentment or dissent. It seems some know-all, a worldly-wise man, pointed out this irregularity in “appointments”. Charu-da snuffed such talk saying, “Ma ekta kukoorke rakhleo ami amar kaj korbo.” (Even if the Mother appoints a dog, I will continue my work.) At the D.R. counter was the place I first saw Charu-da, the day I arrived. I think he was serving bananas at breakfast time. At lunch he served RICE — unfailing, punctual and meticulous, thereby earning his title “Bhater”. I don’t remember seeing him at night, i.e. when we the young ones went there after the Mother’s Distribution at the Play Ground. (It is interesting to note that long before, in the days when the Mother was not coming to the Play Ground, the D.R. closed down by maybe 6.15 p.m. We had our dinner before 5.30 p.m., before going to the Play Ground. We were home by 7 p.m. — and off to bed.)

Charu-da, the man, whom I saw on that first day of my arrival, (nigh 60 years ago) was not very impressive; very soon I had to change my views. What I saw was an old wisp of a man. (He seemed the “same old” person decades later. He never through all the years changed size or shape.) He was quite tall — and not much else. An emaciated body may sound a bit strong, but it was so. High cheekbones, a cage of ribs and thin arms and legs all covered by a healthy skin. The eyes held anybody who cared to look and more so when someone happened to rouse his temper. That temper was ever ready to erupt (common in some of the Among the Not So Greats!). He wore quite a respectable beard and long flowing hair — always neatly groomed. Neither the eyes nor the lips held any promise of a smile — until years later. Rather they saw red and showed red when the temper blew. He wore a simple dhoti and a chaddar covering his upper body. A cloth was tied on his head during his serving in D.R.

(Could we, after all these years, dare a knowledgeable guess as to the reasons for the “short-fuse-tempers”? It was perhaps that they threw themselves at their Gurus’ feet with full faith and conviction. In simple terms — to serve them only, the best they could — as a means of progress in their sadhana. They surrendered everything, and expected all to do the same. So they could not tolerate any lapses or half-way measures in themselves or in others. Any move out of the straight path (narrow) in terms of discipline, timings, quality and quantity of work and even incapacity, were taken as weaknesses to be severely and instantly dealt with, without pity or self-pity. They got used to “no compromises”. Of course, short tempers are not uncommon now, nor were they ever non-existent. Only their triggering-off reasons are different.)

Charu-da was, for a long time, living “alone” here, as did most other sadhaks, i.e. with no other family members. But at the back of his mind he had an idea that he would offer his lands (at Mala — and he did) and bring in 101 devotees from Mala to the Ashram. He did attract many from that area. Many of his family members also were drawn in, nephews, nieces, grand-nieces and grand-nephews and...) Many of these had not even seen Charu-da. Arriving here they had their first glimpse and taste of him. They may have heard of him in awe if not plain fear but now (meeting him) the feeling was justified. Take that first meeting Sukhen (grand-nephew) had with him. The poor chap had just arrived from Mala and went to see Charu-da as a mark of respect. Charu-da didn’t give him a chance even to enter his room. He asked: “Samadhi hoye eshchho?” (have you been to the Samadhi?) Sukhen said, “No.” Then Charu-da, with signs of some rising heat, “Why then have you come here, — go, go to the Samadhi first.” Sukhen hurried off to the Ashram. Before Sukhen’s arrival (a very recent event), his aunts and many others from Mala were already settled here — many were here before 1945 — Benoy (teacher in Mala — sugar-tin filler here), Abinash, Surendra (Dairy), etc.

You could get into trouble with Charu-da for no apparent reason at all. (He must have had some reason.) This incident took place within 2-3 days of my arrival. I was very “kuchcha” (unbaked, innocent). I, along with my brother and two or three others (more pucca baked) entered the Ashram, going in for the general daily Blessings of the Mother. As we went past the “gateman” who happened to be Charu-da at that hour, one of my older companions whispered to me, “say loudly ‘Charu-daa’.” I did as bid. Then someone said, “run.” I was bewildered, but ran and looked back. There was Charu-da, red-eyed, making straight for me. I was frightened; I ran, took the Rockery passage and ran out of the Ashram. He followed me out to the corner and there left off the chase. I think I sneaked in later. This was my first encounter with Charu-da. He soon forgot and forgave — must have, — for he never took up the chase nor the topic again.

I have described Charu-da as “emaciated” for want of a better word. Thin and long as he was (when Sri Aurobindo said “I see...”, He must have seen right through him), he amazed me and my brother every once in a while. He was a friend of my uncle, Pantulu (another Vesuvius — see Among The Not So Great, chapter 5). Every time (on occasions) my aunt made some Payas, my uncle would keep aside about a litre of it and ask us to go deliver it to Charu-da. He could put it away in one go or two. This was before the days of fridges and before the arrival of any of his kin. Where did it all go? Apart from this luxury, he had only what was given in the D.R. Later, his nieces would make him some Luchi, fried brinjal and/or toast for breakfast. But you could never even speak of non-veg in his presence (including eggs). Sukhen again was at the receiving end when, unthinking, he said he would go and get some eggs. “Beriye jao” (get out) was the order given.

Charu-da worked on in the D.R. a long long time. I heard it said that he was never late, not a single day. But he was getting old. It was probably not easy for him to stand for long hours, all the while chopping up lumps of rice and serving queues of people. It was thought to ease him out of his work in the D.R. But how? He was too deeply attached to this work. He would be most unhappy to leave. But finally it was done — the Mother too cajoled him — a new job was found for him and She gave him a pair of new special dhoties & kurtas to wear when on duty — he was to be the gate-keeper (Dwarapalaka) of our Play Ground. So he was not retired completely. Then began the sweetening and softening of Charu-da. He came into contact with children and the youthful. This was a new atmosphere, a new current which soaked and softened Charu-da. Yet it was not as if a magic wand was waved and “behold”! an overnight transformation. Neither was it (the change) complete — but there was a beginning and a movement towards mellowing. We have heard and seen Charu-da of old. Now — for the new Charu-da.

New Charu-da

We the young befriended him and could now talk to him on somewhat equal terms. On occasions he would even concede a point in an argument — all with relative calm and a smile — quite unthinkable a few years back. Children who had not experienced the “Charu-da of old” were more free. Some of them even could stroke his beard, and one young girl even wove his beard into plaits!!

Once our first prime minister, Pandit Nehru came to visit the Ashram. In the evening he arrived at the Play Ground Gate with his retinue. Charu-da could recognise Nehru, his daughter Indira Gandhi, and make out that some others, Lal Bahadur Shastri and the Consul General, Kewal Singh were of the entourage. He let them in. Then came an ordinary looking man, dark-complexioned, in a plain white shirt and dhoti (South Indian style). He didn’t look “official”. Charu-da stopped him. It was his bounden duty. Fortunately for all concerned, someone noticed the happening and succeeded in convincing Charu-da (it must have taken quite a lot of convincing) that the man was a V.I.P. — in fact it was the chief minister of Madras State (now Tamil Nadu) — Mr. Kamaraj. Charu-da stepped back and Kamaraj being what he was, all humility and understanding (I gathered so from a book on Kamaraj), smiled and entered the Play Ground and took his seat.

It made a very interesting, if not prophetic, photo of the Mother, Jawaharlal Nehru, Indira Gandhi, Lal Bahadur Shastri, Kamaraj and the Consul General of Pondicherry — i.e. one Prime Minister, two future Prime Ministers, a Chief Minister and a Consul General — all lined up with the Mother!

Charu-da was a man of rules — all very hard and very fast. Ideas and principles having once entered him found it hard to come out. But he was fair in that he imposed them on himself as much as he tried to impose them on others. There was a strip of lawn on one side of the entrance passage in the Play Ground. It was with some effort that it was grown there, on a slope, to prevent erosion of the Ground. To keep it green, effective and beautiful there was a strict rule: “DO NOT STEP ON THE GRASS.” But rules very few like, and understanding, obey them. The others have to be coaxed to obey. Charu-da had a busy time on this score. Some of the boys, just to tease him, would run right up to the edge and jump and cross over. This kept Charu-da on the red alert. He was a bit puzzled — was this jumping over within the law or not? Once in a way, someone blundered — he/she did step on the grass — by chance, by a studied chance, or plain ignorance, whatever the case, for Charu-da it made no difference. He would pick up his dhoti and give chase. I hate to think what could have been the outcome IF Charu-da had been strong and fast. As it was, if he could stop the miscreant there was a bit of verbal and moral scorching with a stiff dose of “discipline”. I was witness once when the trespasser was a new man, a visitor. He was standing with a foot on the grass. Charu-da came at him with burning eyes and gesticulating said something in some language. The poor man could not understand much as to what was happening, but he moved off in a hurry. I then approached Charu-da and said: “Charu-da, the man is new to this place, does not know our rules. So, you could forgive him.” Charu-da agreed and added: “amio na jene ekbar pa rekhechilam.” (I too stepped on the grass once, not knowing the rule.) I sympathised and said, “It’s O.K., since you did it unknowingly.” But Charu-da disagreed saying: “na, na, Sri Aurobindo bolechen — agyan ekta pap.” (Sri Aurobindo has said: “ignorance is a sin.”) The dialogue had to end there.

One of our ex-students, Prabhat, was often at the receiving end of some practical jokes played by his friends. He was (is) an affable type, usually wore a smile, except when he had to discard it for a look of bewilderment. On this day Prabhat was seen approaching the Play Ground for his group activities. The friends (group members) went up to Charu-da and told him “one of our group boys (Prabhat) is coming. He has the habit of drinking! See his eyes — red and drooping, and his sleepy smile.” Charu-da was convinced and ready. Prabhat stepped in and Charu-da called out, “beriye jao” (get out.) Prabhat probably thought it was a joke or the order was for someone else, so tried to skirt Charu-da and enter, making matters worse. An angry Charu-da now made it quite clear that it was Prabhat whom he was ordering out. Prabhat was now a bit shaken out of his reverie — he looked helplessly on. The friends then came to “see” what the trouble was. They pleaded with Charu-da and assured Charu-da that they would take Prabhat in and see to it that he made no trouble. They explained to Charu-da that Prabhat was actually a good and gentle boy. Charu-da then let him in.

Charu-da continued the Gate duty for as long as he could. Then that body, wasted as it was, could not keep pace with that fire-spirit within. It was slowly losing ground and gave up — Charu-da passed away on the 8th of February, 1974. The fire was extinguished, the embers glowed for a while, the ashes would soon cover them. But, we — some of his many relatives and I, could blow on our “long ago” memories, blow away some ashes — a few embers were alive… so were we able to bring back Charu-da to the warmth of our Present.

This was Charu-da who fattened his soul and made his body lean. There was not much that he had for people to sit up and take note. It would seem rather that he did much, went through a great many travails to arrive at the feet of his chosen Guru. Once there he melted into the melange of sadhaks. It was only the Guru who said, “I see..., I see…” Charu-da was right when he suspected the Guru is “seeing” something more than meets our eyes. Perhaps Charu-da himself did not “see”, yet fattened his soul — that led him surely and safely to this Haven.