Nirodbaran

Correspondence with Sri Aurobindo

The Complete Set

You are fine, you are wonderful, Sir! How the dickens am I to make the exceptional circumstances reappear when I don't know what they are? I asked you what the “exceptional circumstances” were, and the only reply I extracted from you was “You are widening, scopening” – a most vague, misty reply too.

Well, but that's just it. Widen, widen, scopen, scopen and the poetry may come in a torrent roaring and cascading through an enlarged fissure in yours and the world's subtle cranium.

Now I don't find poetry anywhere on the horizon.

How do you know? It may be hiding behind a cloud.

Maybe this disappearance of poetry is the unexpected that has happened as a result of Darshan! But the result of Darshan in some other quarters leaves me staggered and staggered! I can't imagine such an incident taking place in the Ashram – I mean, of course, N's gripping M's throat. It makes me rather aghast. Coupled with that the incident of R rushing to shoe-beat P. Good Lord! but I suppose they are all in the game!

You seem to be the most candid and ignorant baby going. We shall have to publish an “Ashram News and Titbits” for your benefit. Have you never heard of N's going for K's head with a powerfully-brandished hammer? Or of his howling challenges to C to come out and face him, till Mother herself had to interfere and stop him? Or of his yelling and hammering in a rage at C's door till Dyuman came and dragged him away? These things happened within a short distance of your poetic ears and yet you know nothing??? N is subject to these fits and has always been so. The Darshan is not responsible. And he is not the only howler. What about M herself? and half a dozen others? Hunger strikes? Threats of suicide? not to mention rushes to leave the Ashram etc., etc. All from the same source, sir, and apparently part of the game.

Difficulties of individual nature rushing up?

Individual and general. The subconscient, sir, the subconscient. Brilliant irruptions of the subterranean Brahman into the dullness of ordinary life. avacetanāya brahmaṇe namo namaḥ.

R writes that there is a spare pestle and mortar in the Dispensary lying in the cupboard and not being used – he needs one for his work. If this is not in use, it can be given to him.

26.02.1936