by Pradhan
at the time of Sarama's passing, 2013
I suspect the means by which I arrived at Guru’s path was not atypical: someone served as a portal. That individual “parents" you along the way. Inevitably, you develop a relationship with that person—a relationship that has some paternal or maternal feel to it. For me, that person was Sarama. I’m one of Sarama’s kids. I say that proudly.
Permit me to recollect back to those days. It was 1971. I had regularly been practising hatha yoga, which awakened a curiosity about meditation. I lived in Hartsdale, New York, and to continue my hatha yoga and hopefully learn of meditation, I called every yoga centre in the New York area. The very last place that I called was Yoga of Westchester. It was last because the name “Yoga of Westchester" frankly didn’t invoke a spiritual feeling for me. But I called and asked the woman who answered the phone whether her school offered meditation programmes. That woman was Sarama.
Unhesitatingly Sarama said, “Yes, and if you’re interested in meditating with a spiritual Master of the highest calibre"—I remember these words because I have said them over and over again—“Sri Chinmoy is offering a free public meditation.“
I attended that meditation. Were it not for that invitation, I might not be a disciple today. So my gratitude to Sarama has its beginnings back then.
Sarama brought more than one hundred disciples to Guru. Perhaps, if you joined the path after 1980, you may not know what a whirlwind Sarama was in the late ’60s and ’70s. This was before Jamaica had evolved to be the community that it is now. We were a bit more dispersed. Sarama lived in New Rochelle, New York, and was a key figure in Centre manifestation. Sarama was an official (and super-excellent) photographer. So many of the most wonderful photos that you see, still to this day, are Sarama’s photos. She produced a small album of photos called the "high-consciousness“ album that contained photos of Guru in extraordinary states of meditation. When you purchased one, Guru signed it. Guru signed mine, “Sandy, all my love and blessings."
It all happened at 16 Bancker Place in New Rochelle. It was a devotional hub. Sarama gave her hatha yoga classes there. The hatha yoga classes always ended with breathing exercises and then Sarama would invite people who were interested to stay to meditate.
I remember attending my first class and meeting Sarama for the first time. She seemed a little eccentric; she remained so until her last breath. But I was also impressed: here was this “cool" woman who taught yoga, who definitely had this other-worldly thing going on. I remember just liking Sarama; I mean, I really plain ol’ liked her.
After that first hatha yoga class, I was the only one to stay for the meditation. It was just the two of us, and I had no idea how to meditate. Nowadays we give weeks and weeks and weeks of instruction on how to meditate. But her complete instruction was simply this: “Quiet your mind and concentrate on Sri Chinmoy’s third eye." That was it—end of story! Nothing more! This was her devoted faith in Guru, which she always, always had. I followed her instruction and had a very nice experience, so I asked her if I could have one of those photos. In those days the Transcendental Photograph was given out quite readily. I took one and started meditating as Guru had prescribed.
Sarama’s New Rochelle home was entirely dedicated to Guru. On the first floor was the hatha yoga classroom and behind that was the meditation room. In her basement was a darkroom for developing her photos. At times, the entire house was strewn with second-hand items that eventually were sold in yard sales as fundraising for the Centre. Eventually, this yard-sale activity officially evolved into an enterprise called I Need This Store. The first incarnation of the store was in New Rochelle. Then, when Sarama moved to Queens, she opened a second incarnation on Parsons Boulevard.
On the second and third floors of the New Rochelle house were the residence areas, and four disciples lived there. Those would be Sunil, Pulak, Rupantar and me. We were all Sarama’s kids. She definitely nurtured all of us along. We all developed photos in the darkroom. All of us became hatha yoga instructors. We all spent hours pricing items to sell in yard sales. She started us on this road and nurtured us along as we travelled. The four of us developed a wonderful, wonderful bond. To this day, when I see Pulak or Rupantar, they are really, really like brothers to me.
Of the four of us, Sunil was undoubtedly the most disciplined. Not many people know that Sunil was my very, very first best-friend on the path. We were really inner friends. Whenever I would see Sunil, it would feel as though I was actually passing through him on some subtle plane. Once, while taking prasad, Sunil and I were in line together and when Guru saw us, he simply remarked, “Good friends." As I said, Sunil was definitely the disciplined one. He would wake up before 6:00 a.m. every morning, come out of his room, and then blow his nose. I would liken it to what I would imagine the conch shells sounded like in the Mahabharata, because Sunil’s nose-blowing served to wake up the entire household. It was quite amazing.
Rupantar would peek into my room and marvel at the fact that my shrine candles were always in perfect like-new condition. I hope he wasn’t terribly disappointed when one day he looked closely to discover that they were actually plastic candles. That’s why they never melted and were always perfect.
Rupantar’s incredibly amazing capacity as a selfless-server was apparent even back then. He would work and work and work, often until he would fall asleep on the spot from exhaustion. His other capacity, which perhaps is not as well known, was his ability to literally eat any combination of food and find it absolutely delicious. We boys had our own refrigerator in the basement. It was a typical boys’ refrigerator loaded with ketchup, mayonnaise and relish produced decades earlier. This is what guys’ refrigerators look like. I will never forget Rupantar devouring a ketchup, sauerkraut and peanut butter sandwich. He was eating it with such enthusiasm, and he invited me to join him: “Pradhan, this is delicious! You have to try this." I managed to avoid that experience.
Pulak was quirky even back then. Who doesn’t love Pulak? Even when he gathers his thoughts, Pulak is entertaining. But he is so devoted! Again, I remember the early days when on a trip to Antigua, Guru asked Pulak to fill all the potholes on Guru’s running courses. Every morning Pulak would go out and fill those potholes.
I think it is to Sarama’s credit that all four of us remained on the path all these years. Now, Sarama has left us. I know that we are all supposed to feel okay with that because she is with Guru. Yes, we know this. At the same time I remember when a disciple passed away and Guru meditated with her family members. At the end of that meditation Guru actually wiped tears away from his eyes. He said that, even though he had a free access to her soul, on a human level he felt sadness. So with Sarama’s passing, I think it’s okay to feel a little bit sad.
Whenever I would come to New York, occasionally running into Sarama was always special. We’d stop and chat and at those times, I was reminded that I was one of her kids. Having given many classes myself, I know that it’s a great feeling when you inspire someone. And should they start meditating, that’s even more wonderful. But there’s no greater gift that you can offer someone than to bring them to their path and their Teacher. Sarama gave that gift to me and to many of us. For that, I will always be so, so grateful. I’m happy to put my name on the list of those people who really love Sarama. She was a truly genuine disciple and always, always an inspiration to me.
