Swami Krishnananda Shashtyabdapurti Mahotsava Commemoration Volume

A Souvenir released on Swami Krishnananda's 60th Birthday

Some Reminiscences of Swami Krishnananda

by Swami Shivapremananda

Over a time-span of twentyone years and from a vast distance, it is not easy to visualise a person. Yet, I could honestly say that hardly anyone had evoked a greater feeling of regard and respect in me than Swami Krishnanandaji, during my residence of sixteen years in the Sivanandashram. Going back there, in 1968 and 1975, I found Swamiji to be the same decent, compassionate, understanding and honest soul that I knew him to be. Time and position had not changed him. Gandhiji used to say, "If you want to know the nature of a person, give him power". In Swamiji's case, his executive authority and being showered by praise and acclaim in recognition of his learning and wisdom, did not turn his head. Lord Acton, a prime minister of Britain at the turn of this century, once remarked, "All power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." Swamiji has not fallen a victim to it. What I liked best about him, when living in the Ashram next to the room he then occupied in the Yoga-Vedanta Forest Academy building, was his unpretentious nature and that he was not a "glory-hopper."

In the first year of my stay, Swamiji (then known by his former secular name) was a resident of about two years' standing. We were insignificant novices in every sense, trying to find our feet in the Ashram, and seeking to figure out a meaning to our life and the purpose of being there at all. Even then he was a detached soul, a renunciate, as he showed in wanting to withdraw from the Ashram and enter into the deeper Himalayas. But fortunately, he returned after a few days, realising that there was more to life than in the mental struggle of the moment. Sometime or the other, most of us have passed through such phases. It is said that "your first duty is to face yourself" and that a person lacks strength of mind because he is neither to himself, nor honest with others. This is a remarkable thing about Swamiji: at least he tries to be honest with himself and with others.

When I joined the Ashram, Chidanandaji (also known by his former secular name at that time) and Krishnanandaji always helpful to their juniors. Krishnanandaji was then in the correspondence department and Chidanandaji the an editor of The Divine Life magazine. Both used to ghost-write replies to the letters from spiritual aspirants on behalf of Gurudev Sivanandaji. Krishnanandaji's answers were forthright, with a no-nonsense approach, even to the point of having cutting edges for the sake of avoiding self-delusion. Although Krishnanandaji seemed unimportant to the then authorities of the Ashram, I found him to be clear-headed, lucid in expression and an inspired spiritual seeker. And I could see traces of these qualities in the manuscripts of his first-ever literary work, Mariner in Tempest, so far unpublished, which he once gave me to read. It is about the spiritual struggles of a man who eventually found his master.

Salient Qualities

The two great qualities of Sivanandaji that have found their identity in Krishnanandaji are: boundless patience and a profound understanding of the generally comples human nature. Sivanandaji was out-going, with an inner reserve of calm, rarely losing his balance. I saw him really angry only twice during the entire length sixteen years of living and working with him, and it can be said so only in one case among hundreds of thousands. As to Krishnanandaji, I have seen him provoked many times and he was irritated of course, including by me, but I never saw him rattled, even once.

Animus is unknown to Swamiji. For his big heart, life is far too precious and the focus of human relationship too transitory to be sullied by little grudges and pettiness. It is refreshing to see also that he is not image-conscious, and does not have the predilection to be a performing holy man; for self-image, carefully shined up, can be mercilessly contradicted by one's actions that reflect upon it. This explains as well the reason for his competence, both in spiritual and temporal fields, because people are incompetent due to their inclination to self-delusion, the main impediment to learning anything good.

Just as simple peasants cannot distinguish between intelligence and cunning, or between dignity and vanity, the spiritually primitive cannot differentiate between tolerance and indifference, or detachment and being impervious to responsibility. Ethics is the essence of spirituality, because it is only integrity with oneself and with others that makes integration with God viable at all. I have found an abiding honesty in Krishnanandaji. Duplicity is absent in his deep intelligence, and his tolerance of the defects of others is full of compassion, while his inner detachment makes his sense of responsibility all the more effective.

By western standards, Swamiji can be rated as a traditional interpreter of Indian philosophy, who tries to bring its substance into focus, unlike some other philosophers, ancient and modern, who are like sculptors whose material is fog. He is not an addict to false modesty and does not have the unfortunate habit of an elaborate display of humility to impress others. Vanity and arrogance are the twin companions of renown and power. I have not found them by the side of Swamiji, not even dressed up in a more presentable form.

Distinction of Progress

During the time I lived in the Ashram, Krishnanandaji mostly kept to himself, minding the work that was given him. He was almost never seen among the entourage of Sivanandaji, was too honest to be a court panegyrist, and never performed to the gallery for self-enhancement. The Master regarded him highly for his personal qualities as well as for his learning. By 1957, circumstances pushed Krishnanandaji to administrative responsibility, and in 1959, he became the General Secretary of The Divine Life Society, a position he still holds. To the surprise of many, he proved himself to be an able administrator. He did not become an ego-balloon, and this is among the best of his memories I retain. Pressure of work did not make him lose sight of spiritual values, which he poured out in his writings. As a teacher of the Vedanta philosophy, even as early as 1948, when he first started giving classes, he made such an impression that Sivanandaji himself made it a point to attend his classes.

It is said that there are two levels of progress in a person's life: the outer and the inner. Outer progress is a product of ambition and will, and an insatiable hunger for renown and achievement. It is a result of initiative and tireless perseverance, as well as the capacity to exploit the circumstances to one's best advantage. I have found such an urge to be absent in Krishnanandaji. The inner progress consists in the cultivation of a spiritual conscience, and in being true to it in one's daily life. Life is what one makes of it, with the resources one has within oneself and utilising the circumstances which are, in part, a self-creation. Swamiji's is an example good enough as to what life can be, on the inner level.

In 1949, I succeeded Chidanandaji as editor of The Divine Life magazine. When Sivanandaji sent me to the West in 1961, Krishnanandaji took over the editorship rather reluctantly, not because he did not like that kind of work, but because it was to be another burden on top of his many other duties. I could not think of anyone but him in my recommendation to Gurudev, although the latter's preference was another Swami. In 1968, when I was visiting the Ashram, Krishnanandaji still complained to me that I had put the magazine on his "head" and left!

In 1975, I found him to be in ill health, valiant and stoical, and yet laden with ad-ministrative chores. Left to himself, he would probably be happiest in a contemplative life, peacefully engaged in writing work, giving spiritual advice to those who came to him, and occasional classes on philosophy. It is his high sense of duty that has kept him tied to the role of a top executive, bearing the burden of running a great Ashram, having to cope with so many mundane egos, financial pressures, even the petty conflicts of the rootless. How can this noble soul fail to evoke one's regard and respect?

Reality Inside Mist

Twenty-one years are a long time for the distant hills of reality to melt into the mist of reminiscences, but I am sure that those who know Swamiji well, and have been able to break through his rather abrupt exterior into his kindly heart, would not say that I am exaggerating. It is said that "dreams are private myths and myths are public dreams", both being necessary to communicate between the known and the unknown, between individual and public psyches and the reality of human nature. Around a public figure, the weaving of myths is inevitable. As long as they do not mislead people, are not blatant lies and are done in good taste, they serve a useful purpose. But, in any case, I have not tried to be a weaver.

In the spirit of the ancient sages of India and China, Krishnanandaji will probably agree that:

The path is more, important than goal, for if the path is good, so will be the goal.

Walking is more important than reaching, for if you know how to walk sensibily you will surely reach the destination.

Doing is more important than achieving, for if you act well, the result will certainly be good.

Means are more important than the end, for the end will verily bear the consequences of the means.

Being is more important than leading, for if your example is good, it will always draw a following.