In
the article “A Few Comments Apropos of The
Lives of Sri Aurobindo” by Auroman at
http://www.mirroroftomorrow.org/blog/_archives/2009/1/9/4051044.html
there is a statement as follows:
A rumour about kidney trouble as the cause of Sri
Aurobindo’s illness and ‘death’ has been included. Is this another example of
meticulous scholarship? It creates doubt in the mind of the reader that perhaps
Sri Aurobindo had kidney trouble all his life, in spite of his assertions to
the contrary. It is worthwhile to go through the accounts of the doctors who
actually attended on Sri Aurobindo.
Here is
the first account of Dr Prabhat Sanyal from
Then it
came to me—is Sri Aurobindo ill?—Why otherwise would the Mother send such a
telegram? Other thoughts crept into my mind and I could not decide how best to
equip myself for the errand.
The next
morning, 30th November, I flew to
It took
me an hour to obtain a permit from the Police authorities, who looked me over
thoroughly, trying to decide whether I was a smuggler or some thirsty drinker
wanting a joy ride to French India. They finally decided however that I could
go. The driver being assured of extras, my car literally flew along the roads
to
On the
way Dr. Nirod of the Ashram and my young colleague Dr. Satya Sen acquainted me
with the history and present condition of the Master. Softly but quickly I
ascended the stairs and entered the room. There I looked on the Master, my
divine patient, semi-recumbent on His bed, seemingly unconcerned, eyes closed,
like a statue of massive peace. I approached the bed, knelt by His side and
made my pranams at His feet. Champaklal called : " Look, Master, who has
come. " There was a quiver on His face; heavy eyelids opened a little—then
all was still again. But again Champakial called: "Master, see, Sanyal has
come." This time He opened His eyes fully, looked at me and smiled—Oh such
a smile, serene and beautiful, it carried one to ecstasy, lighting the
innermost corners of the heart.
He placed
His hand on my head and lovingly patted it a few times—all thoughts vanished,
it seemed my heart had stopped. I was overpowered with a mighty peace and calm.
He had closed His eyes—except for His respiration all was still and a great
silence reigned. Then Champaklal whispered delightedly, "He has given you
a Darshan Smile and Blessing."—It was a blessing no words could describe;
only one who has seen it and known it in his heart could appreciate what it
meant, it for it was an experience of the soul.
I waited
for the opportunity to become the doctor. I asked Him what the trouble was and
whether I could give Him any relief. I put to Him the regular professional
questions, perhaps then forgetting that my patient was the Divine housed in a
mortal frame, and He answered: "Trouble? Nothing troubles me —and
suffering! one can be above it." I mentioned the urinary difficulties.
"Well, yes," He answered, "I had some difficulties but they have
been relieved, and now I do not feel anything." Again there was silence.
We
retired to the next room and I had a consultation with Nirod and Satya. His
urine analysis report had arrived, showing slight albumen and sugar, specific
gravity a little above normal. The Mother now entered the room and stood in
silence near the foot of the bed and watched Sri Aurobindo. Soon She called me
out into the next room where I explained the position to Her, that He was
suffering from a mild kidney infection—otherwise there was nothing very serious
as far as could be judged from the urine report.
We
thought that, deo volente, continuous
drainage would suffice and antibiotics would gradually improve the rest.
The
following morning, 1st December, was very encouraging; our Lord was absolutely
alert and responsive and His temperature was normal. After His sponging He took
His simple breakfast and even cracked jokes with us. I was giving Him a scalp
massage and enquired if He was liking it or not. He remarked: "I know you
went to
The next
day, 2nd December, there was little change except for a rise of one degree in
temperature towards the evening. The day was a heavy one for the Mother as it
was the second day of the annual display in the playground; but as soon as the
activities were over She came to His room and stood at the foot of His bed. Her
countenance was very grave but She did not say anything. I suggested, as the
urinary infection was again flaring up in spite of continuous drainage, that we
should try Antibiotics and Infusion therapy. Mother then warned me that
orthodox methods of treatment were unsuitable for Him—not only would Sri
Aurobindo not like them but they would be harmful. She also reminded me that my
patient was the Divine, "He will work out whatever is necessary." I
could only give some simple medicines to allay symptoms if any.
We
doctors were in a state of perplexity; true, our patient was an Avatar; true,
He had cured innumerable ailments in the sadhaks as also in Himself several times—would
He not now cure Himself?
Champaklal
once entreated Him in a favourable moment: "Why don't you use your force
and cure yourself, Master?" He kept silent and showed rather a dislike for
such questions.
December
3rd—after a rather quiet and restful night He looked better that morning and
when the usual morning routine was over Nirod offered Him some fruit juice
which He enjoyed.
The
temperature had dropped to normal and so much was our relief that at 11 a.m.
while making my pranams to the Mother I ventured to suggest that as the Master
was steadily improving I might perhaps leave that evening. The Mother remained
silent; She looked very grave. I looked into Her eyes and felt a quiver, a pain
in my heart. What had I said? Was She not willing? Why did I suggest my
departure instead of waiting for Her to tell me? I felt a wrench at my heart
and I blurted out: "I would rather stay a few more days." A smile lit
all Her face. "Yes," She said. In the afternoon the picture rapidly
changed. The temperature had risen to 101 degrees`. There was a definite
respiratory distress. The Mother came into the room at 4 p.m. and stood
watching. All the afternoon we had found it difficult to get Him to drink water
or fruit juice, so now we sought Her help. She brought the spoon near His lips.
Immediately He opened His eyes, took a few sips and lapsed back into
unresponsiveness. The Mother came with us into the ante-room and then for the
first time declared: "He is fully conscious within but is losing interest
in Himself." We could understand very little and dared not question
further. Satya was restless as energetic treatment could not be instituted. The
Mother simply said: "It all depends on Him."
As the
darkness closed in upon us our hearts grew heavier. At times Nirod or
Champaklal would offer Him sips to drink and He would even remark on His choice
of tomato or orange juice or something of that sort, then would lapse back into
a state of unresponsiveness.
Not once
would He say or at any time indicate that He was uncomfortable or thirsty, but
if we changed His position or offered Him a drink He smilingly accepted it. The
Mother came at 11 o' clock at night as usual; the moment She offered Him a
drink He was all alert and obediently drank a cupful of fruit juice—then again
He lapsed into a state of repose.
The
distress continued now with little sign of abating and The Mother took me into
the ante-room remarking: "I don't know, He has no interest in Himself."
I suggested intravenous medication from the next day onwards, but She advised
me not to disturb Him.
The long
night passed, a long and worrying night. Nirod and Champaklal kept watch
throughout.—If there is a quiver of the lips, it may be that He wants a drink—If
a shake of the hand—perhaps He needs His handkerchief. They are there to serve
Him; that is their sadhana—life dedicated to the service of their Master.—I
remembered Sri Aurobindo one day telling me of his early days of sadhana, when
he used to sit up all through the night. Champaklal, then a mere boy, would lie
on the stairs below, waiting for any summons. On another occasion some time
before, I mentioned to Sri Aurobindo that Dr. Nirod would change the medicine
when needed; He remarked. "Nirod is no doctor to me."
We
continued keeping a careful watch on the urinary flow and He was still passing
50 ozs. in 24 hrs. at specific. gravity of 1012-1010. Nirod would sit by the
bottle and watch each drop as it fell and if there was any delay, which was
often the case, he would immediately draw my attention to it.
December
4th—at dawn His temperature had dropped to 99 degrees. The respiratory distress
was negligible and He seemed bright and responsive.
The
morning duties were over and we settled Him in His usual sitting position.
There He sat majestic and serene. At about 9 a.m., The Mother came and helped
Him to take a light breakfast. As She walked into the ante-room, the room used
for our consultations, I smiled to Her and said; "The Master seems
cheerful again and taking interest." The only answer She made was "Mmm"
and then went out of the room.
I settled
by the side of the bed and gently massaged the Master's body while Nirod and
Champaklal were attending to their duties. After a little while He opened His
eyes and asked the time. I told Him 10 o'clock, I saw He was in a mood to talk
so I ventured: "How do you feel?" He replied, "I am
comfortable." There was a pause; He looked at the clock and then asked how
But alas,
it was only a brief lull—a belied hope. From midday the respiratory difficulty
reappeared with greater amplitude and the temperature went up to 102 degrees.
This time signs of distress could be seen in the face but there was not a word,
not a protest.
The
Mother came about 1 p.m. She watched for some time before entering the
adjoining room with me. Then She said, "He is withdrawing."
Though He
looked apparently unconscious, whenever He was offered drinks, He would wake up
and take a few sips and wipe His mouth himself with His handkerchief. To all of
us it seemed apparent that a consciousness came from outside when He was almost
normal, and then withdrew when the body quivered and sank down in distress. He
was no longer there!
By 5 O'clock
again He showed signs of improvement. He was quite responsive. We helped Him
out of His bed. After which He walked to the armchair to rest. For the moment
He seemed a different personality. He sat there with His eyes closed—calm and
composed with a radiating consciousness. We remarked on the majestic beauty of
His form as He sat there; such calm and beatitude brought to my mind the Vedic
Rishis. But this did not last long. After three quarters of an hour He became
restless and wanted to be back in bed. Respiratory distress appeared with
redoubled momentum. From midday onwards the urine output which had been good
all these days definitely diminished and the distress was very prominent.
Though He seemed to be unconscious He was not, which was evident by the fact
that He drew Champaklal several times to His breast and kissed him lovingly and
this Divine compassionate embrace was extended to Nirod and myself. It may be
mentioned that this emotional behaviour was evident here for the first time;
but He had taken nothing to drink the whole day.
The
Mother came back after Her usual attendance at the playground. She laid her
garland at the foot of the bed, a thing which She does daily, and stood
watching Sri Aurobindo. She looked so grave and quiet that it almost distressed
me. I went to the ante-room to wait for Her. She entered and I gave Her the
report and told Her that Glucose had been given by Satya and we wanted to
arrange for intravenous infusions etc. She said quietly and firmly, "I
told you this is not necessary, He has no interest in Himself, He is
withdrawing."
We sat
round His bed, wondering why He was losing interest in Himself; He, if He so
desired, could certainly cure Himself as He had done on so many other
occasions,—Nirod has seen Him curing the illnesses of others. But now at this
crucial hour He had no interest in Himself! Was He going to sacrifice Himself?
At about
11 p.m. the Mother came into the room and helped Sri Aurobindo to drink half a
cup of tomato juice. A strange phenomenon—a body which for the moment is in
agony, unresponsive, labouring hard for breath, suddenly becomes quiet; a
consciousness enters the body, He is awake and normal He finishes the drink,
then, as the consciousness withdraws, the body lapses back into the grip of
agony.
At
midnight the Mother came again into the room, looked intently for some time as
if there was a silent exchange of thought between them; then She left.
At 1 a.m.
(5th) She returned and again looked at the Lord and stood at the foot of the
bed. There was no sign of agony, fear, or anxiety on Her face. Not a thought,
not a feeling could I fathom in Her expression. With Her eyes She asked me to
go into the other room and She followed me in. She asked, "What do; you
think? Can I retire for one hour?" This is a significant hour: The Mother
retires—Her consciousness leaves Her body, none are to call or enter Her room
then. This is imperative.—I murmured, "Mother, this is beyond me."
She said, "Call me when the time comes."
I stood
behind the Master and started stroking His hair which He always liked. Nirod
and Champaklal sat by the side of the bed and were caressing His feet. We were
all quietly watching Him. We now, knew that anything might happen, any time,
only a miracle could save us and the world. I perceived a slight quiver in His
body, almost imperceptible. He drew up His arms and put them on His chest, one
overlapping the other—then all stopped. Death, the cruel death that was waiting
so long—we had been keeping vigil for it—had descended on our Lord. I told
Nirod to go and fetch the Mother.
It was
1-20 a.m.
Almost
immediately the Mother entered the room. She stood there, near the feet of Sri
Aurobindo: Her hair had been undressed and was flowing about Her shoulders. Her
look: was so fierce that I could not face those eyes. With a piercing gaze She
stood there. Champaklal could not bear it and sobbingly he implored, "Mother,
tell me Dr. Sanyal is not right, He is alive." The Mother looked at him
and he became quiet and composed as if touched by a magic wand. She stood there
for more than half an hour. My hands were still on His forehead. My mind
wandered. He lay, my Guru, Rishi Sri Aurobindo, Avatar of the new era of the
dawn, a thing past! Only a few seconds ago I was watching and hoping for a
miracle to happen; could there be a more appropriate time than this? Sri
Aurobindo is no more! He was alive, and now He is history. Thoughts
kaleidoscoped in my brain. I could almost see thousands of people passing by
the bed, whispering aloud—"Here lived Sri Aurobindo." But it cannot
be; I am standing here by His side, my hands almost touching Him, I am watching
Him breathe, yes, every movement, all is much more quiet now,—I could not
think; any more. A sharp pain went through my head. I looked at the Mother.
Softly She came to me and touched my head, stilled my thoughts, quietened my
mind. No trace of agony was left, I could now think normally. I asked Her,
"What is to be done, we have to arrange for the last offices." She
quietly said, "He will be given Samadhi, under the Prayer tree. in the
pace where the giant maidenhair plants are arranged." So, this place had
been earmarked beforehand; such is the way of the Divine!
The
Mother also reminded me of the formalities that had to be observed, a French
doctor must certify the death first. Then only members of the Ashram and the
public could be informed. Nolini Gupta and Amrita were called and stood there
as if stunned. Pavitra stood at the feet of the Master, tears rolling down his
cheeks.
We were
busy in dressing the Lord. The Mother had already agreed to my request to
call the Ashram photographers (sadhaks) to take the last pictures.
The
French physician of the Hospital, Major Barbet, examined the Master's body and
we both signed the death certificate.
Now the
sadhaks of the Ashram were to be informed. It was now dawn, the eastern sky was
slowly getting clearer and clearer, a shaft of light appeared over the horizon.
Quietly I left the Ashram.
As I sat
by the window, bewildered, in my room at Golconde, I saw the hurried but silent
progress of the Ashramites towards the Ashram.—Sri Aurobindo has passed away—I
felt a violent pang in my heart. I looked at the sky. Look!...There, Sri
Aurobindo is rising again—the eternal Sun bursting forth with a million rays.
As the
day wore on, longer and longer became the stream of people, eager but calm and
patient, to have a last Darshan of the great Rishi. In the afternoon I again
entered the room where our Lord lay serene and majestic. A never-ending stream
of people, laymen, clergymen, doctors, lawyers, rickshaw pullers, labourers,
rich men, poor men, all filed past the sage, silent but inspired. At dusk the
Ashram door was closed. The Mother blessed me, asking me to come again early in
the morning. I left for Golconde. Champaklal and Nirod were keeping vigil night
and day.
December
6th—I entered Sri Aurobindo's room before dawn. Mother and I had a look at Him;
how wonderful, how beautiful He looked, with a golden hue. There were no signs
of death as science had taught me, no evidence of the slightest discoloration,
or decomposition. The Mother whispered, "As long as the supramental light
does not pass away, the body will not show any signs of decomposition, and it
may be a day or it may take many more days." I whispered to Her,
"Where is the light you speak of—can I not see it?"
I was
then kneeling by Sri Aurobindo's bed, by the Mother's feet. She smiled at me
and with infinite compassion put her hand on my head. There He was—with a
luminous mantle of bluish golden hue around Him.
With the
morning came the procession of people, taking a last glimpse of the Divine
Master. The Mother said to me, "People do not know what a tremendous
sacrifice He has made for the world. About a year ago, while I was discussing
things I remarked that I felt like leaving this body of mine. He spoke out in a
very firm tone, No, this can never be. If necessary for this transformation I
might go, you will have to fulfil our yoga of supramental descent and
transformation!'"
After
that night, there dawned on us the third day of Sri Aurobindo's passing. The
Mother and I had a look at His body. As yet there was no sign of decomposition.
The French surgeon corroborated the findings, this being required by the law of
the state.
I was
talking with the Mother, in Her room. In my own foolish way I voiced my
apprehension for Her health and the strain She put on her fragile frame. She smiled
at me, and asked, "Do you think I get all this energy from my frugal
meals? Of course not, one can draw infinite energy from the universe when
needed!" She also added, "No, I have no intention of leaving my body
for the present. I have yet a lot of things to do. So far as I am concerned, it
is nothing to me. I am in constant contact with Sri Aurobindo".
Sri
Aurobindo's sudden decision of withdrawal stirred the minds of us all. Was it a
retreat? Or was it a means used by Him to attain something for the earth? Who
can answer?
With our
limited mental logic, whatever we try to explain will only be part of the
truth, or may even be a distortion. What we need is a supreme faith in Him that
if many a battle is apparently lost the ultimate victory of the war is
inevitable. Sri Aurobindo has no doubt withdrawn from us, from our physical
eye, but the Mother is continuing the fight for humanity as the Mahashakti.
While we
all feel as if we were sliding down the incline to disappointment,—for the
world torn with dissension, distrust, hatred and greed, looking for a ray in
the sky, a divine gesture—for the uplift of humanity—a transformed humanity—the
Mother holds out HOPE.
I took
leave of the Mother on the 7th evening—taking a last look at the Master's
luminous body,—the Divine in a mortal frame, beautiful, calm, and still without
a sign of decomposition. I naively asked the Mother, "Why was I not
allowed to treat the Lord as I would have done in the routine way, and why was
I called in?" Mother consoled me by saying, "We wanted you to be
here, not so much for treatment." The Mother blessed me three times and
all my sorrows, my disappointments, my doubts vanished, and my mind was aglow
with hope. I bowed at Her feet, and looked up to see the Divine Mother, the Mahashakti
smiling at me.