{"id":681,"date":"2021-12-04T19:01:55","date_gmt":"2021-12-04T19:01:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.yoganandafortheworld.com\/story\/?p=681"},"modified":"2021-12-04T19:01:55","modified_gmt":"2021-12-04T19:01:55","slug":"a-place-called-ananda-chapter-14-the-reaction","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.yoganandafortheworld.com\/story\/a-place-called-ananda-chapter-14-the-reaction\/","title":{"rendered":"A Place Called Ananda — Chapter 14: The Reaction"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>
\u201cIt\u2019s a wrap!\u201d Cast and crew of the film<\/em> Finding Happiness, about life in a Paramhansa Yogananda World Brotherhood Community. (2012). At center: Swami Kriyananda, director Ted Nicolaou, and actress Elisabeth Rohm
\n<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Daya Mata used sometimes to tease me<\/strong> for being what she called \u201cnaive.\u201d In one respect she was right. I trusted in friendship, and believed that ours superseded any mere organizational consideration. I often expressed myself to her without giving my words careful thought, as friends will. I couldn\u2019t help the frustration I felt at her not giving me a chance to do certain things in which I believed, and I couldn\u2019t help feeling let down when, faced with others\u2019 criticism, she often failed to back me in a project to which she\u2019d given her prior consent. But we were friends, and she knew I\u2019d stand by her always.<\/p>\n

I wrote her on May 14, 1961, about my success with the Delhi project. That date is indelibly etched on my mind. I was completely confident that there would be joyful celebrations at Mt. Washington upon the arrival of that letter. I had, after all, just completed a major campaign for Master, and had emerged victorious. From now on, Master\u2019s work in India, which had been for us such a heartfelt disappointment, would flourish. It would attract devotees and ashram members from all over by the hundreds. It would become one of the great spiritual lights in modern India. From today on, SRF-YSS would be known and revered as one ashram where principles were placed ahead of sectarian differences. Master\u2019s teachings would be practiced everywhere.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t been able to write much, previously, I explained, because there really was nothing to report except the disheartening news of a long list of adamant refusals. As a commentary on years of opposition to my ideas, I couldn\u2019t resist adding, in effect, \u201cSee, I can<\/em> get things done if I am given the opportunity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daya Mata told me later, \u201cAfter reading your letter, I passed it on without comment to the other directors.\u201d Was she telling me that she\u2019d never told anyone about the project, nor that I\u2019d been working on it with her consent?<\/p>\n

I mentioned in my letter that I\u2019d be going to Darjeeling for a needed vacation, as my time in Delhi had been exhausting to me. I\u2019d be at the vacation house of the Maharani (actually the Maharajmata, the mother of the present Maharaja) of Cooch Behar. I hoped soon, however, to get word that Pundit Nehru had given his approval to the Delhi project.<\/p>\n

Word of his approval came while I was resting and meditating in Darjeeling. That same day, I believe it was, a telephone call came from America. It was from Tara Mata:<\/p>\n

\u201cWe \u2026 do \u2026 not \u2026 want \u2026 that \u2026 property!\u201d<\/p>\n

We had a bad connection; I didn\u2019t understand her at first. \u201cYes!\u201d I shouted. \u201cWith God\u2019s grace we have Nehru\u2019s permission at last.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe \u2026 do \u2026 not \u2026 want \u2026 that \u2026 property!\u201d came the statement again, each word this time enunciated distinctly and at maximum volume.<\/p>\n

What was I to say? This completely unexpected refusal would mean a colossal humiliation for me, but what did that matter, after all? I hadn\u2019t done all that work for myself. If after everything the idea was rejected, then that was that. There would be other ways of serving the work. Without pausing even to think my thoughts through, I replied, \u201cAll right. If that is your decision, I\u2019ll abide by it willingly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe \u2026 do \u2026 not \u2026 want \u2026 that \u2026 property!\u201d she shouted a third time. \u201cYou\u2019ll be getting our letter shortly.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that was that. I hung up, then commenced adjusting my mind to these new and very different circumstances. There was no sadness in my heart, though I was probably feeling slightly numb. Whatever God and guru willed for me was my will also.<\/p>\n

The disastrous shock came the following day in the form of a letter, some twenty or thirty pages long, written and signed by Tara Mata but intended to be read as though coming from the entire Board.<\/p>\n

I was accused of deceitfulness and \u201ccrafty guile\u201d in deliberately concealing from them the work I\u2019d been doing. \u201cYou wanted to get us so compromised with the Indian government that we\u2019d have no choice but to go along with you. Your scheme was to split the work and set yourself up as the new guru in India. You lied to us. You connived for personal power. Your attitude reeks of personal ambition. You\u2019re a megalomaniac, hypocritical, treacherous to the last degree. You refused to work with Binay, who is doing everything he can in Calcutta to serve Master\u2019s work. Nothing you can ever say or do in future will permit me ever to trust you again.\u201d<\/p>\n

I am paraphrasing her words. The letter, as I say, went on, single-spaced, for at least twenty pages, all of it vitriolic, accusatory, and utterly damning.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t believe my eyes. I took a long walk, and, in Tara\u2019s jeering words later on, \u201cwept buckets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can do what you like with the Delhi proposal,\u201d I wrote back. \u201cI am not attached to it. But please,\u201d I pleaded, \u201cplease<\/em> don\u2019t misjudge my motives.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShame on you,\u201d came the angry reply, \u201cfor trying to justify your actions, first, and now your motives. Master never<\/em> let us try to justify ourselves. Your motives are impure, and worse than impure. They are completely self-motivated. You are a traitor to your guru. You are his Judas. You are so disobedient, so insulting, so unbelievably presumptuous that Master drew you to him only near the end of his life to spare you getting the bad karma you\u2019d certainly have received when you left him, hurling insults as you went. You\u2019ve lied, you\u2019ve cheated so often that you can no longer even faintly tell the difference between right and wrong. Your delusions of grandeur have inflated your ego to the point where your head is likely to burst. There isn\u2019t anyone living in any of our colonies who isn\u2019t more spiritual than you. And unless you do something to improve that atrocious personality of yours, you will make nothing but enemies wherever you go.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told Nehru we aren\u2019t a sect. I admit Master said we aren\u2019t one. Well, we are<\/em> a sect.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now you say you\u2019re tired. No true disciple would ever admit he\u2019s tired. Sometimes Master worked us to the limit of our strength, but he never<\/em> let us say, \u2018I\u2019m tired.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Again, this is only a paraphrase. Tara\u2019s answer was much longer, and much more vitriolic.<\/p>\n

I will not detail the events of the following year. They were many, and very painful, marking as they did my slow, inexorable descent into total disgrace. I tried valiantly to keep on serving Master to the best of my ability. Nothing else mattered to me. But no matter what I did, I was told I should not have done it. And no matter what I didn\u2019t do, I was told I should have done it. I was so utterly bewildered that I wondered if I understood anything<\/em> any more. Whatever I did or didn\u2019t do was denounced categorically. Still, I kept the flag of my divine resolution high. I was determined to go down trying my best, if go down I must after all.<\/p>\n

And so it appeared: that I must. For months I could feel Tara\u2019s thoughts hurled at me in anger from America as she demanded that I be ousted from the work. Later I learned that she\u2019d kept on insisting, \u201cUnless we get rid of him, fifteen years from now he\u2019ll be strong enough to divide the work.\u201d<\/p>\n

In July, 1962, I received a cablegram summoning me to New York. Why New York? I wondered. Our centers were in California. Why a safe 3,000 miles from Los Angeles? Deep down, I knew the answer. Yet I was determined to play my part as a disciple, let come what would.<\/p>\n

I landed in New York on Saturday, July 28th, 1962. Tara and Daya were at the airport to meet me. During the taxi ride to the Pennsylvania (now the Penta) Hotel, where we had reservations, not much was said. Tara looked up into the sky and said something about Jupiter\u2019s and some other planet\u2019s positions in the heavens. Clearly, she saw this as the astrologically appropriate time for whatever bomb she intended to explode. But I blocked the thought out of my mind. I couldn\u2019t, I wouldn\u2019t<\/em> believe what I knew I must soon face.<\/p>\n

The following morning a large manila envelope was shoved under my door. I opened it and found it to contain a document some thirty pages in length by Tara, and a number of letters by other people. The gist of it all was that I was through forever in SRF, and a very good riddance to me.<\/p>\n

Later, when I asked to see them, they agreed. I spent two hours on my knees in front of them, my hands crossed on my breast in an expression of unbearable anguish, incapable of assimilating the enormity of this tragedy. I pleaded with them to reconsider their decision, in which I\u2019d had no say at all.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll do anything. Write it down and I\u2019ll sign it that I\u2019ll never do anything anymore in the work but wash dishes. I didn\u2019t come here for position. I didn\u2019t come here to be vice president. I came here only to serve my Guru and find God. Why can\u2019t I just render him some small service? What I do doesn\u2019t matter to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNever!\u201d was Tara\u2019s reply. \u201cThe least toehold and you\u2019d only worm your way to the top again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe only \u2018top\u2019 for me,\u201d I protested, \u201cis serving my guru and God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNever!\u201d she repeated. \u201cFrom now on we want to forget that you ever lived.\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused, then tilted her head back and gazed at me deeply as if reading my entire life. \u201cCan you tell me,\u201d she demanded, \u201cwhy everything you\u2019ve ever done has ended in disaster?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The question surprised me. I thought I\u2019d been successful at quite a number of things, and couldn\u2019t think of any failures, what to speak of disasters.<\/p>\n

After a puzzled pause, I inquired, \u201cWould you give me an example?\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment she was nonplussed. Then she quickly dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. \u201cThat\u2019s your technique, see? Asking questions to get the other person confused. But don\u2019t you know it takes spiritual power to attract the money you wanted for building things?\u201d She continued: \u201cYou can never succeed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t want you ever to lecture again in public. We don\u2019t want people to know Master ever had such a despicable disciple.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are never again to set foot on any SRF property.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are never again to contact any SRF member.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are never to tell anyone you are Master\u2019s disciple.<\/p>\n

\u201cNever again,\u201d she added with a loud sigh of relief, \u201cwill we have to listen to the projects concocted in that fertile brain of yours.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think your motives are pure. Well, I assure you, they are most impure.<\/em> You tried by careful scheming to get yourself made the new SRF president. Well, it didn\u2019t work \u2026 did it?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d stop at nothing short of murder to get what you want!\u201d she then repeated herself with careful deliberation, emphasizing each word: \u201cnothing \u2026 short \u2026 of murder!<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I will see to it before I die that others see you the way I do. You shall never<\/em> get back into the work. I have the power to know you better than you know yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Daya said little during this interview, though at one point she interjected a few words in support of Tara\u2019s position.<\/p>\n

Tara returned to the fray: \u201cYour things will be sent to you from Mt. Washington.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut,\u201d I protested, \u201cI don\u2019t want anything!<\/em> All I own I\u2019ve given to Master.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh!\u201d she cried, sneeringly. \u201cHow dramatic! Well, I\u2019ll tell you what you do. If there\u2019s anything you don\u2019t want, just drop it in the trash can in the corridor of this hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n

She asked me how much money I had.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have about a thousand dollars left from my travel expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou may keep that.\u201d<\/p>\n

She then produced a letter she\u2019d written for me to sign, resigning my membership on the Board of Directors and my vice presidency. I signed it readily; those positions had meant nothing to me. Smugly she took the letter from my hand and gazed at it, then at me, with an expression of relief as if to say, \u201cWell, that\u2019s over with. We\u2019ve got what we came for.\u201d<\/p>\n

After the meeting, pleased with how it had gone, they decided between them to give me another $500. Tara flew back to Los Angeles that same afternoon.<\/p>\n

The following morning, bright and early, the phone rang in my room. It was Tara. \u201cWere y\u2019able to get the check cashed?\u201d she inquired brightly. I hadn\u2019t yet learned there was to be a check. Perhaps she thought I\u2019d dashed to the nearest bank to cash it before they could stop payment.<\/p>\n

Coincidentally, my parents had just landed in New York from a vacation in Europe. They were staying in Scarsdale, north of the city, and I\u2019d been able to get in touch with them.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust think!\u201d Tara exclaimed. \u201cIsn\u2019t it wonderful how Master has worked this whole thing out?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was too amazed at this example of insensitivity to reply. Tara, on finding that I didn\u2019t share her enthusiasm, demanded, \u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s wonderful? Why are you silent?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d rather say nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s your trouble, see? You\u2019re secretive. You\u2019re a schemer.\u201d She started in on another long diatribe delineating my innumerable imperfections.<\/p>\n

I saw Daya again briefly that day. She regretted that I\u2019d already paid my hotel bill, but I wouldn\u2019t let her reimburse me.<\/p>\n

[The original printing contained the following paragraph, which was replaced by the next four paragraphs of text.<\/p>\n

My father took the train in to New York to fetch me. We had lunch together. \u201cWell, well,\u201d was all he could think to say when I told him my tale of woe. I accompanied him to Scarsdale. From there, a few days later, Dad, Mother, and I drove across the country to their home in Atherton, California.]<\/p>\n

My father took the train in to New York to fetch me. We had lunch together. \u201cWell, well,\u201d was all he could think to say when I told him my tale of woe. Mother was more vocal in her outrage, when I saw her later in Scarsdale.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy,\u201d she cried, \u201csince the time you were a baby, you never once<\/em> told a lie!\u201d<\/p>\n

What could I say? I knew she was right. To give voice to my agreement, however, would have been tantamount to taking sides, when it seemed to me that what was needed was for me to remain open to any possibility of truth in the disastrous accusations that had been made.<\/p>\n

From Scarsdale, a few days later, Dad, Mother, and I drove across the country to their home in Atherton, California.<\/p>\n

It was excruciating agony to find myself living a non-ashram life again, in an ordinary family albeit the family of my birth, serving my parents instead of serving my guru.<\/p>\n

It seemed to me that I was being asked to bear the karmic weight of all those who had ever betrayed Master, whom he himself had forgiven, while his disciples raged at those people\u2019s treachery.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Daya Mata used sometimes to tease me for being what she called \u201cnaive.\u201d In one respect she was right. I trusted in friendship, and believed that ours superseded any mere organizational consideration. I often expressed myself to her without giving my words careful thought, as friends will. I couldn\u2019t help the frustration I felt at … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-681","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nA Place Called Ananda — Chapter 14: The Reaction - Swami Kriyananda: Lightbearer<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"A direct disciple of Paramhansa relates the brutal facts of his dismissal by Self-Realization Fellowship.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.yoganandafortheworld.com\/story\/a-place-called-ananda-chapter-14-the-reaction\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta 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