Stories of Yogananda s Youth
68 pages
English

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68 pages
English

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Description

Stories from the youth of Mukunda Lal Ghosh, later known to the world under his monastic name of Paramhansa Yogananda, author of the bestselling spiritual classic Autobiography of a Yogi. Even in his youth the greatness of this master of yoga was revealed. Complements beautifully Yogananda's own autobiography.

The author, Swami Kriyananda, a direct and close disciple of Yogananda, writes: "In this book I have tried to depict Yogananda's spirit; a spirit ardent with love for God, tender with sympathy for all men, forgiving, kindly, humorous, yet resolute and forceful when strength was needed."

From the preface: "Paramhansa Yogananda was born in India in the last decade of the nineteenth century. His father, a high official in the Bengal-Nagpur railway, was in a position to offer his children worldly security and success. Mukunda's heart, however, was set on another kind of security and another, higher, kind of success: final victory over ignorance through loving union with God. Spurning earthly comforts, he sought rigorous training under one of India's greatest living gurus, Swami Sri Yukteswar, of Serampore, Bengal.

"People often make the mistake of equating the spiritual life with dullness and prudery. These stories should help to dispel that illusion. Mukunda's keen sense of humor and love of pranks often startled his more sedate neighbors out of their mental ruts. The personality that emerges from these episodes is joyous, compassionate, childlike yet fiercely determined, loyal, deeply in love with God, and capable of standing alone in his convictions against the very world.

"These stories have been written from true episodes in the master's life from approximately the ages of six to seventeen. Some of the accounts were related to me by his relatives; others, by childhood friends. But the greater number were told me by the master himself. I have taken no liberties with those accounts beyond adding superficial details for poetic emphasis, an occasionally combining separate episodes (too brief to stand alone) into a single story."


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Publié par
Date de parution 15 novembre 2017
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781565895737
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0040€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Stories of Yogananda’s Youth
Paramhansa Yogananda 1893–1952
Stories of Yogananda’s Youth
True Episodes from the Boyhood of the Author of Autobiography of a Yogi

by Swami Kriyananda
© Copyright 1976, 2017 by Hansa Trust
Second Edition, 1976 Second Printing, 1977 Third Printing, 2017
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN-13: 978-1-56589-317-7 eISBN-13: 978-1-56589-573-7
Cover designed with love by: Amala Cathleen Elliott
Interior design & illustrations by David Jensen

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kriyananda, Swami, author.
Title: Stories of Yogananda’s youth : true episodes from the boyhood of the author of Autobiography of a yogi / Swami Kriyananda.
Description: Nevada City, California : Crystal Clarity Publishers, 2017.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017030744 | ISBN 9781565893177 (quality pbk. : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Yogananda, Paramahansa, 1893-1952. | Yogis--India--Biography.
Classification: LCC BP605.S43 Y6354 2017 | DDC 294.5092 [B] --dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017030744

14618 Tyler Creek Road Nevada City, Cdalifornia 95959
Contents
Author’s Preface
A Letter to God
The Goldfish Tragedy
A Double Victory
The Living Kali
A True Devotee’s Zeal
God Is in Everything
“Ghosts” to the Rescue
The Warrior
The Youthful Guru
Krishna Comes!
The Wave and the Ocean
Forty-Eight Hours in Eternity
Divine Mother’s Motorcycle
“This Body Belongs to God”
About the Author
Preface
Paramhansa Yogananda was the author of one of the classics of modern spiritual literature, Autobiography of a Yogi . Mukunda Lal Ghosh (his pre-monastic name) was born in India in the last decade of the Nineteenth Century. His father, a high official in the Bengal-Nagpur Railway, was in a position to offer his children worldly security and success. Mukunda’s heart, however, was set on another kind of security and another, higher, kind of success: final victory over ignorance through loving union with God. Spurning earthly comforts, he sought rigorous training under one of India’s greatest living gurus (spiritual teachers), Swami Sri Yukteswar, of Serampore, Bengal.
In 1920 at the age of twenty-seven, Mukunda—now the monk Yogananda—was sent by his guru to America. Here, his extraordinary blend of dynamic joy, deep wisdom, delightful humor, and all-embracing love attracted throngs to his lectures. His appearance in America marked the first time that a great Indian yogi actually made his home in the West. Westerners by the tens of thousands showed themselves eager to drink at the fountain of India’s timeless wisdom.
In 1925 Paramhansa Yogananda established his headquarters atop Mt. Washington in Los Angeles, California. I myself met him in 1948, at the age of twenty-two. From that time on I was associated closely with him until his death in 1952. During those years I conceived a keen desire to make his life better known to the world. This little volume, though relating only to his boyhood, is a step in that direction.
People often make the mistake of equating the spiritual life with dullness and prudery. These stories from the master’s childhood should help to dispel that illusion. As the boy Mukunda, his keen sense of humor and love of pranks often startled his more sedate neighbors out of their mental ruts. The personality that emerges from these episodes is one joyous, compassionate, childlike yet fiercely determined, loyal, deeply in love with God, and capable of standing alone in his convictions against the very world.
These stories have been written from true episodes in the master’s life from approximately the ages of six to seventeen. Some of the accounts were related to me by his relatives; others, by childhood friends. But the greater number were told to me by the master himself. I have taken no liberties with those accounts beyond adding superficial details for poetic emphasis, and occasionally combining separate episodes (too brief to stand alone) into a single story.
A Letter to God



M UKUNDA FELT DEEP TENDERNESS whenever he thought of God. In his mother’s love for him, in his father’s sage but gentle discipline, in the kindness of all good people, in the joy of sunlight and the sweet solicitude of rain, he saw manifestations of divine, infinite Love. Everything that he did or thought, he shared with his Heavenly Friend.
Once, when still a little boy, he wrote a letter in Bengali to God, pouring out his heart’s feelings. He addressed the letter, simply, “God in Heaven,” and mailed it trustingly.
Two days passed. Then he began looking for a reply. Day followed day. Letters came—for his father, his mother, his older brother Ananta, but—none for little Mukunda.
“Surely He must have had time to answer by now,” Mukunda thought anxiously. “I know He’s busy, but can’t He spare just a few minutes to write me?” Every day the child waited eagerly for the postman. Alas, no letter came.
“Dear God,” he prayed lovingly, “You simply must answer my letter. It said so many things— so many important things!”
Weeks passed. His longing never abated.
Finally one day Mukunda saw a brilliant light. Within it was a letter in the Bengali script: To his indescribable joy, every part of his letter had been answered.
God had been won by His little friend’s refusal to give up a loving expectation.
The Goldfish Tragedy


O NE OF M UKUNDA ’ S MOST remarkable traits as a child was his steadfastness. At times it was awe-inspiring. Long after others had given up on some worthy idea, Mukunda would cling to it with unswerving devotion. It was enough for him to be inwardly certain that it was worthy, that the cause was just and good.
Love was what moved him most often to steadfastness. In this little story we see how his love expressed itself as tender concern for a fellow creature.
When he was six years old, Mukunda brought home one day a goldfish that an aunt had given him. The fish was placed with solemn care into a tank where water was kept for domestic purposes—cleaning, scouring, and the like. One of the first things Mukunda did every morning was go to the tank to watch the colorful flips, turns, and splashes of his little friend as it sported about in the water. In this daily visit he was often joined by Ananta and Roma, his older brother and sister.
One morning Roma was the first to get up. She went to gaze into the tank. The goldfish was missing! Anxiously she searched about. And there she discovered it at last, on the cement floor some distance from the tank: dead! Her horrified outcries roused the rest of the family.
A new servant confessed that, in his haste to draw water from the tank that morning, he had forgotten about the fish. Capturing it inadvertently in his bucket, he had spilled it with the water onto the floor as he cleaned. No, alas, he hadn’t noticed his mistake until it was too late to save the poor creature’s life.
Mukunda appeared on the scene. “My little fish!” he cried. “My poor little fish!” Alternately weeping for the goldfish and storming at the servant for his carelessness, his grief eclipsed that of the rest of the family. Unpacified by anything the others could think of to say, Mukunda left the scene of the tragedy. Silently he climbed the stairs to the top floor. There his sobs continued. He would not look at his Bengali and English primers, nor touch any food.
His father felt the child’s sorrow deeply. A strict disciplinarian, he informed the servant that there could be no room in his household for such a negligent worker. But the dismissal was no consolation to Mukunda. What, alas, could replace his lost goldfish, his dear little friend?
His father at last had to leave for the office. Ananta departed for school. Mukunda’s mother and older sister were left with the problem of consoling him.
The mother, seeing her child refusing all food, would take none herself. She asked Roma to try once more to speak with him. Mukunda by now was in hiding, but Roma found him at last, sitting on the topmost stair by the door leading out onto the roof. His face was darkened with sorrow; his eyes were still wet with tears. Soothingly his sister tried to reason with him. He appeared not to hear her. Then she explained that their mother also was fasting, because of him. At this, the child yielded. Roma lifted him in her arms to carry him downstairs. As she did so, she saw him holding his fists tightly clenched against his body.
“What are you hiding there, little brother?” she asked, softly.
“Please,” Mukunda begged her, “don’t ask me.”
“Do just let me look, won’t you?”
“No, no, please don’t,” he implored, hiding his little fists from her gaze.
But at last, reluctantly, he revealed his secret. When he opened his hands, she saw in one of them a small pencil. The other held a tiny diary, on one page of which had been written a little poem in English, rhymed:
my red fish is die
Mukunda, whose later poems were to thrill the souls of God-seekers in many lands, had struggled for the first time with words to lament the loss of a dear little friend, the goldfish.
A Double Victory



J USTICE , TO M UKUNDA , WAS not something he could dismiss easily as “ their responsibility.” His compassion was too deep, and at the same time too practical, to be expressed as mere sympathy. Most people will at least weigh the risks before daring to try to right a wrong. But in Mukunda’s eyes justice was a divine issue, not a human one. If he felt inwardly so inspired, he would take up a cause unhesitatingly that others, though physically stronger than he, would have shunned in fear. Mukunda felt that the Infinite Power would sustain him against all odds.
For some time Mukunda attended a school in which a certain boy, his senior by several years, took pleasure in tyrannizing the younger children. One day, as the bully was inflicting on tiny Bharatam a brutal beating, Mukunda felt a surge of righteous indignation.
Striding up to the bully (who was easily twice his size), Mukunda instructed him to leave Bharatam alone.

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