He daily came to visit the Master, but only to pry into His shortcomings,—for that was the only work of the Puri,—while the Master did him reverence as His guru. He knew of the slanders spoken by the Puri [against Him], but welcomed and honoured him greatly. One day the Puri came to the Master's house in the morning, and noticing some ants on the floor, delivered this covert attack, "Verily sweetmeats were brought here last night, for ants are running about. A wonder sannyasis dead to the world have such gluttonous cravings!" And then he left in a hurry.
The Master now saw with His own eyes what He had only heard before, [about the slander spread against Him]. He called Govinda and told him, "From to-day my meal will be one packet of rice and curry of the pinda-bhog worth 20 cowries [i.e., one quarter-anna]. Don't accept any food above this for me. If you bring more, you will not see me here."
Half of this the Master ate and the other half He left for Govinda, and both remained famished. Then He commanded Govinda and Kashishwar to beg their food elsewhere. Thus some days passed in great hardship. Hearing of it, Ramchandra Puri came to the Master and smiling told Him, "It is not a sannyasi's dharma to gratify his appetite. He eats just enough to fill his stomach anyhow. I find you lean and hear that you eat only half your fill. This drying bairagya is not a sannyasi's dharma. A sannyasi performs true jnan-yog when he fills his stomach as far as is necessary but does not enjoy his food. (Gitá, vi. 16-17.)"
The Master replied, "I am an ignorant child and your pupil. It is my good fortune that you are teaching me." Ramchandra Puri then left.
Next day the bhaktas headed by Paramananda Puri complained to the Master against Ramchandra as a universal fault-finder and instigator of gluttony, which he afterwards censured. They urged Him not to listen to Ramchandra and famish Himself, but to return to His old diet and accept invitations. But the Master replied, "Why do you blame Ramchandra Puri? He expounds the natural dharma, and has done no wrong. It is very wrong for a sannyasi to have a lustful palate. It is a sannyasi's duty to eat just as little as will keep body and soul together." They all pressed Him hard, and yielding to their entreaty He fixed His rations at one-half of its former cost, viz. at two pan of cowries [i.e., half annaj, which was shared by two, sometimes three persons. If a Brahman whose cooking He could not eat, invited Him, He took only prasád worth two pan of cowries. If it was a Brahman whose cooking He could eat, He took a little of prasád [purchased with money] and a little of the meal cooked in His host's house. But at the houses of Pandit Goswámi, Adwaita Acharya, and Sárvabhauma, He ate whatever they asked Him, for there He had no independence; He had come down to earth to render His devotees happy.
After a time Ramchandra Ptiri left Niláchal on a pilgrimage, to the intense delight of the Vaishnavs, who felt that a heavy stone had been lifted from their heads! They now freely invited the Master to kirtan and dance, and all freely partook of the prasád.
CHAPTER XXV
The love of the pilgrims from Bengal
The Bengal bhaktas came to Niláchal [carrying loving presents,—food and preserves, for the Master]. It was the day of Jagannáth's sporting in the water of the Narendra tank. The Master came there with His followers to see the water-sport and there the Bengal pilgrims met Him. The Bengal musical parties were singing the kirtan; on meeting the Master they began to weep in love. The water-sport, instrumental music, song, dance and kirtan created a tumult on the bank, while the boats plied merrily on the water. The mingled din of the kirtan and weeping of the Bengalis filled the universe. Then the Master entered the water with His disciples and sported gleefully with them all. These water-sports have been described in detail by Brindában-das in his Chaitanya-mangal. I shall not repeat them here.
Another day the Master went with His party to behold Jagannáth at his rising from bed. There He began the berá kirtan. Seven parties began to sing, and seven chiefs danced in them, Adwaita Acharya, Nityánanda, Vakreshwar, Atrhyutananda, Shribas Pandit, Satyaraja Khan and Narahari-das. The Master visited all the seven groups, each thinking that He was with it only! The roar of the kirtan filled the earth; all the citizens came out to see it; the king came with his Court and gazed from a distance, the queens beheld the scene from the roofs of houses. The earth trembled under the influence of the kirtan. Men shouted Hari! thus adding to the din. After a while, the Master was inclined to dance Himself. Around Him the seven parties sang and beat their instruments; in the centre He danced in supreme transport of love. He recollected the Oriya verse, Jagamohan parimundá jáun! 'Charmer of the universe! I abase myself before Thee', and bade Swarup sing it. To this air He danced in ecstasy, while all the men around swam in tears of love. With uplifted arms He cried, "Chant! chant!" and they in delight shouted Hari! Hari! At times He fell down in a trance and ceased to breathe, then suddenly started up with a roar. Frequent tremour burst over His body, making it look like the shimul tree, now it was quivering and now it stiffened. The sweat burst through every pore in His skin. With faltering speech he muttered ja ja, ga ga, pari pari,—every tooth in his mouth shaking as if about to be loosened. Even in the third quarter of the day His dance did not cease. All the people in ecstasy forgot [fatigue of] body and [the distinction of] self and others. Then Nityánanda resorted to a device; he silenced the kirtan-singers gradually, and only the leaders of the seven groups continued singing with Swarup, but in a low tone. At the cessation of noise, the Master came to Himself somewhat. Then Nityánanda told Him how fatigued all were. The Master at this put an end to the kirtan and went to bathe in the sea with them all.