To The Fourth Of July

Behold, the dark clouds melt away,
That gathered thick at night, and hung
So like a gloomy pall above the earth!

Before thy magic touch, the world
Awakes. The birds in chorus sing.
The flowers raise their star-like crowns-
Dew-set, and wave thee welcome fair.

The lakes are opening wide in love
Their hundred thousand lotus-eyes
To welcome thee, with all their depth.

All hail to thee, thou Lord of Light!
A welcome new to thee, today,
O sun! today thou sheddest LIBERTY!
Bethink thee how the world did wait,
And search for thee, through time and clime.

Some gave up home and love of friends,
And went in quest of thee, self banished,
Through dreary oceans, through primeval forests,
Each step a struggle for their life or death;

Then came the day when work bore fruit,
And worship, love, and sacrifice,
Fulfilled, accepted, and complete.
Then thou, propitious, rose to shed
The light of FREEDOM on mankind.

Move on, O Lord, on thy resistless path!
Till thy high noon o’erspreads the world.
Till every land reflects thy light,
Till men and women, with uplifted head,
Behold their shackles broken, and
Know, in springing joy, their life renewed!

Bhuvaneshwari Devi, Mother

“I am indebted to my mother for the efflorescence of my knowledge.”

Swami Vivekananda

It was customary in those days—and still is—for one living a long distance from Varanasi who was in dire need, or desirous that some special event should come to pass, to make offerings and sacrifices to Shiva through any relatives and friends who might be residents of Varanasi. So Bhuvaneshwari Devi wrote to an old aunt of the Datta family in Varanasi to ask her to make the necessary offerings and prayers to Vireshwar Shiva that a son might be born to her. When word came that this was being done she was content to wait in perfect assurance that the prayers would be answered. She spent her days in fasting and meditations, her whole soul given over to constant recollectedness. her entire heart fixed in love on the Lord Shiva. Often did her mind go to Varanasi, uniting in thought with the venerable aunt as she poured the sacred water of the Ganga on the symbol of the Most High or as she worshiped Him with flowers and Mantras. One night she had a vivid dream. She had spent the day in the shrine, and as evening deepened into night she fell asleep. Hushed in silence was the household, hushed in silence and rest. Then in the highest heavens the hour struck—the time was come for the saintly woman to touch the feet of the Lord. And in her dream she saw the Lord Shiva arouse Himself out of His transcendent meditation and take the form of a male child who was to be her own son. She awoke. Could this ocean of light in which she found herself bathed be but a dream? Shiva! Shiva! Thou fulfillest in various ways the prayers of thy devotees! From the inmost soul of Bhuvaneshwari Devi a joyous prayer welled up, for she was confident that her long months of expectancy were over and that the vision was but an announcement that her prayers were to be answered. Her faith was justified. And in due time her son was born.

Swami Saradananda wrote of Bhubaneswari and the period of time following her husband’s untimely death in February 1884:

“Fallen on bad days after her husband’s death, she was put on her mettle and showed wonderful patience, calmness, frugality and adaptability to sudden change of circumstances. She who was used to spending a thousand rupees monthly to manage the household had now only thirty rupees to maintain her sons, daughters, and herself. But never for a day was she seen dejected. She managed all her family’s affairs with that meagre income in such a way that those who saw how things went on took her monthly expenditure to be much higher. One shudders indeed to think of the miserable condition into which Bhuvaneshwari fell at the sudden death of her husband. There was no certain income with which to meet the needs of her family; yet she had to maintain her old mother her sons and daughters brought up in opulence, and meet the expenses of their education. Her relatives, who had lived well by her husband’s generosity and influence, now found an opportunity to their liking and, far from helping her, were even determined to deprive her of her just possessions. Her eldest son, Narendranath, possessed of many good qualities, failed to find a job in spite of his best efforts in various ways; and losing all attraction for the world, he was getting ready to renounce it for ever. One naturally feels respect and reverence for Bhuvaneshwari Devi when one thinks of the manner in which she performed her duties even in these straitened circumstances.”

Holy Mother Sri Sarada Devi, Guide

“To me, Mother’s grace is a hundred thousand times more valuable than Father’s. Mother’s grace, Mother’s blessings are all paramount to me. . . . Please pardon me. I am a little bigoted there, as regards Mother. If but Mother orders, her demons can work anything. Brother, before proceeding to America I wrote to Mother to bless me. Her blessings came, and at one bound I cleared the ocean. There, you see. In this terrible winter I am lecturing from place to place and fighting against odds, so that funds may be collected for Mother’s Math.”

Sarada Devi (22 December 1853 – 21 July 1920), born Saradamani Mukhopadhyay , was the wife and spiritual counterpart of Ramakrishna Paramhansa, a nineteenth-century mystic of Bengal. Sarada Devi is also reverentially addressed as the Holy Mother (Sri Maa ) by the followers of the Ramakrishna monastic order. Sarada Devi or Sri Sri Ma is one of the notable woman saints and mystics of the nineteenth century. She paved the way for the future generation of women to take up monasticity as the means and end of life. In fact Sri Sarada Math and Ramakrishna Sarada Mission situated at Dakshineshwar is based on the ideals and life of Sri Sri Ma. Sarada Devi played an important role in the growth of the Ramakrishna Movement.