How to record my impressions about Prof Nadkarni’s talks and their impact on me? Words seem to distort the true feelings. But I see Nirodbaran’s gentle smile. He has accurately formulated what I feel but cannot express:

 

As much as the talks it was the atmosphere created by them that was the magnet. I felt a Presence pervading the room. The reason that struck me for it, if any reason can be given for an occult phenomenon, is that, by the lecturer’s own admission, Savitri was a madness and a passion with him. If that was so, the Aurobindonian “God-touch” was bound to be there. And the passion was felt in every word, each expression of his, either in interpretation or in elucidation or in reading of relevant passages. This made everything living. His fluent, spontaneous delivery with a masterly command over the language combined with his easy and simple manner accounted further for the Presence, and the great success resulting from it came extra graceful because of his handsome appearance.

 

Nirodbaran made the above observations on Dr Nadkarni’s talks on Savitri in his valedictory speech at the Society Beach Office. 1 In a simple compact passage, Nirod-da has described the quintessential features of Nadkarni’s sessions on Savitri. It explains the vibrant and sublime delight that we used to feel during his talks. As Nirod-da remarks in the concluding part of his speech: “He [Dr Nadkarni] has made us enter into the divine beauty of Savitri.”

 

Nirod-da says that it is not that Prof Nadkarni opened any magic casement on Savitri; he spoke of the usual themes: the Divine’s Love for humanity, of the Truth, Beauty and Felicity at the core of the universe, the great promise held forth by the Poet about the human race while notable thinkers were beset with gloom and saw nothing but absolute failure for it. But what made his talks special was the unfailing energy and conviction with which such familiar themes were brought home to us in the audience. Nirod-da also emphasises the importance of Savitri recitation:

 

One thing especially I learnt from his talk: that to enjoy poetry, one must read it aloud. Particularly great spiritual poetry like Savitri, full of mantric vibrations, cannot be appreciated by a mute reading. Sri Aurobindo, I am told, read aloud not only to the Mother but also to himself what he had written. Dr Nadkarni brought a fine ringing voice to his recitation.

 

The entire speech is reproduced in the August 1990 issue of Mother India.

 

In his inimitable style, Nirod-da then gives an occult allegory involving the author of Savitri, its scribe and its messenger. Seeing that the world is in a big mess, Lord Vishnu called for Narada in Heaven and announced his plan to take birth as a poet and compose an unprecedented epic whose mantric utterance will bring about a great change in the consciousness of the world and give it hope and courage. Narada was to accompany the Lord as a scribe. Lord Vishnu also told him that

 

...one day you will meet a remarkable person who, steeped in the lore of Savitri, will be spreading its message in the dark corners of the globe. He will seek you out and you will recognise each other as kindred souls.

 

I would now like to share my thoughts on the role of the messenger. Mangesh Nadkarni was a sadhak but he deliberately confined his study camps and lectures to an apparently intellectual approach to the study of Sri Aurobindo using primarily the language and idiom prevalent in the contemporary academic and cultural world. Dr Nadkarni’s task was focused: to spread something of Sri Aurobindo’s consciousness to “dark corners” of a certain type: the shallow confused minds in contemporary intellectual circuits, the modern versions of the Philistine so vividly described by Sri Aurobindo in The Human Cycle. He had a rich sense of humour and irony which he used to judiciously make sure that the audience do not lose their concentration.

 

There was a cultured aggression in his approach. Did not Sri Aurobindo say in a certain context: “Knowledge must be aggressive, if it wishes to survive and perpetuate itself...”

 

Dr Nadkarni was to rescue and restore some receptive minds before they get putrefied by the asuras in the mental world. For this mission, Prof Nadkarni’s academic achievements, professional stature, sharp intellect, vast scholarship and impressive personality made him a powerful warrior in the services of the Mother.

 

To those of us who are raw aspirants and students of Sri Aurobindo, staying geographically away from Pondicherry in an ambience that is mentally active but spiritually underdeveloped, Nadkarni’s lectures have imparted a clarity of thought and strength of intellect and made it possible that we hold more of Sri Aurobindo at least by way of intellectual illumination. This holds not only for his camps on Savitri and Gita but also on his thought-provoking talks and writings on miscellaneous themes like the Indian intelligentsia, the ideal of the Rishi and the ideal of the monk, India’s Destiny, and so on.

 

To illustrate the role played by Prof Nadkarni, I mention a few of my own experiences. During the early 1990s, I was doing my PhD in mathematics at Tata Institute of Fundamental Research (Mumbai). Somehow I happened to visit the Churchgate centre in Mumbai, a quiet centre for meditation and silent study without much of outward activity. I got drawn to the centre and began visiting it as and when I could.

 

I used to read at random the Ashram and Society journals and booklets. It was at this juncture that Prof Nadkarni delivered a series of lectures on Savitri, at Mumbai, in September 1993. That was the first time I heard anyone speak on Sri Aurobindo’s work for a considerable length. Prof Nadkarni’s sessions provided a quick coherent overview of the epic and Sri Aurobindo’s work about which I was having only some diffused ideas through occasional and haphazard studies. It was as if someone knocking at the periphery was brought close to the centre-stage.

 

And, further, he became largely influential in infusing a bit of Sri Aurobindonian dynamism in my intellectual personality. Initially the two aspects of my life were sort of partitioned: there was the Churchgate-centred life which gave a sense of quiet inner joy; but there was the professional world of science where spirituality was taboo and one had to, as it were, hide such leanings to avoid ridicule. But then gradually the shyness and timidity gave way to a bold intellectual robustness. The compartmentalisation disappeared. And no longer did the achievers in science and academics have any stifling effect on me by their attitude to spheres outside their provinces of expertise. As I look back upon the human influences which made the change possible, Nadkarni’s visit to Mumbai was a definite turning point. It got further consolidated by my subsequent visits to Pondicherry and meetings with sadhaks like Nirod-da and Arindam-da.

 

Those of us in the outside world, who have got identified as devotees of Sri Aurobindo in our respective social and professional world, have a responsibility to represent the ideals and works of Sri Aurobindo as faithfully as possible. We have to do it in two ways: whenever the occasion arises in our academic and social interactions, we have to accurately represent Sri Aurobindo’s perspectives before people unfamiliar with his vision; and, more importantly, we have to become worthy examples of his influence. And, in this regard, Prof Nadkarni has been an example before us—at least for those of us in the “highly qualified” academic circles.

 

The name “Nadkarni” stirs up not only the image of a gifted orator, a grand scholar and a bold and forthright commentator, but also the image of a kind human being who had been exceptionally considerate to all his acquaintances, irrespective of their stature. It is a joy to recall little incidents of interactions. I mention one.

 

I used to attend his Savitri camps in Mumbai in September 1993 and May 1994—but at that time I did not have any interaction with him. In May 1995, I was on a short visit to Indian Institute of Science in Bangalore. One morning, I visited Sri Aurobindo Bhavan at Bangalore and was pleasantly surprised to discover that there would be a talk by Nadkarni in the evening. I went for the lecture well before time. People at the Bhavan knew each other; however, I did not know anyone there.

 

Nadkarni noticed me in the Bhavan complex, recognised me (not as an acquaintance but as a member of his Mumbai audience) and struck a conversation with me. He talked as if with someone long acquainted with him; he also enquired about my professional work. The programme began at the scheduled time. And Nadkarni began his lecture by telling the audience that they might not be aware that they have amidst them a young... and introduced me in glowing terms. In one stroke a non-entity—who was a complete outsider in the Bhavan complex, almost a trespasser—became an honoured Guest! That is Mangesh Nadkarni.

 

Nadkarni was not only a great speaker, he was also a keen listener. During my visits to Pondicherry, I had opportunities of brief meetings with him. We had various discussions, especially on issues about which he was quite concerned. He used to listen with all seriousness whatever an immature youngster had to say.

 

We are now reconciled to putting the prefix “Late” before his name, but it is difficult to believe that Mangesh Nadkarni is no more with us. But then is it really true for us, the students of Sri Aurobindo who have been fortunate to hear him? In the context of the Mother’s statements on the Supramental Manifestation, do we not hear his anguish: why do we act as if she has not made the statements? Do we not hear his “ringing voice” repeatedly remind us that our consciousness gets purified in the atmosphere of Savitri, that every word of Savitri has a vibration of optimism, joy and love, that behind the words there is a Force to realise the words, to make them come true, that Savitriis the key to feel the presence of Sri Aurobindo, that the text vibrates with Sri Aurobindo’s consciousness!

 

There is a saying that the Bhagavat begins where the Gita ends. In one of his talks, Dr Nadkarni once referred to the two aspects of the legacy of Sri Krishna: (1) the author of Gita, and (2) the Flute-Player. And he drew an analogy: while The Life Divine and other major works (of the Arya-phase) give the gospel of Sri Aurobindo, Savitri is the playing of His Flute. To those of us who have participated in his camps, Dr Nadkarni ceaselessly beckons us to wake up from our slumber and listen to the Flute.

 


Here is the photo of Mangesh V Nadkarni taken on 14 April 2007 at Savitri Bhavan, Auroville. He was there to attend the first meeting of its Advisory Group of which he was one of the members. For further details and other articles connected with him reference may be made to Invocation # 27 of Savitri Bhavan. If I'm not mistaken, this was his last visit to the place.