Home »
Farewell, Sri Chinmoy

Farewell, Sri Chinmoy

 

There are as many sorts of tears as types of rain, so I found in the 48 hours following my Guru's passing. Tears of grief, sorrow, pain, shock, bewilderment, self-pity, world-pity, joy, thankfulness, wonderment, sympathy, empathy, numbness; torrents, floods, showers or steady mists.
 
I arrive at night to pay my respects at our outdoor meditation area, Aspiration-Ground, and I am glad of that; night glows with a softer peace than day. Many are still there at midnight, white clad, in varying states of sorrow and stoicism, but everywhere a gentleness.
 
Some warm themselves by a wood-burning brazier on the driveway of Aspiration-Ground. The 76-foot Record-Breaking pencil Sri Chinmoy received for his 76th birthday just weeks ago, wrapped in blue tarpaulin, still sits alongside. The world has changed much in so short a span of time.
 
As soon as I step inside, I know he is still here. The tangible sense of peace from his meditative presence still pervades Aspiration-Ground like an indelible fragrance. His voice still singing gently over the loud speakers as if he were just composing a new song.
 
White flowers spring in full bloom from low pots on the ground, candles in tall jars glowing amongst them. I wait for almost an hour before I gain the emotional strength to stand in line and offer a candle at his casket. Hundreds of them glitter there already, like a golden haze.
 
But it is joy I feel, to my very great surprise; only joy, for the inspiration he has given me. Pausing at a photograph of Sri Chinmoy when he was full of life and strength, I remember a moment during his birthday, that happened on the very spot on which I stand. A most beautiful warm smile from my Guru: his last outer gift to me, and one I will now treasure forever.
 
The next day, Sunday, many words are read out from countless luminaries; beautiful messages of support and gratitude. The trees at Aspiration-Ground weep their green tears early. The sun shines warm out of season.
 
Then for the first time, a song Sri Chinmoy wrote in 1974 to be sung after his Mahasamadhi:
 
“When I am gone away
Remember me, O children sweet,
 
No, not because I failed,
No, not because I cried,
No, not because I tried,
 
No, not because I saw my Lord in you,
No, not because I served my Lord in you,
No, not because I fulfilled my Lord in you,
 
No, not because I was your Pilot true,
No, not because I was your Infinite blue,
 
Oh, but because my life was all gratitude,
Gratitude, gratitude
To you, to you, my sweet children, to you.”
—Sri Chinmoy
 
A red, orange, gold, yellow barrow of long-stemmed roses is brought out. Each person places one at the feet and side of the casket, bloom upon bloom in a growing, shining fragrant mound. Sri Chinmoy sings the word “Gratitude” over and over through the sound system. A gong is sounded as we all pay our silent respects. The constant stream goes on for eight hours, one after another offering a last farewell.
 
Buckling grief returns to me then like a familiar song.
 
The joy is as real as the grief though, and will last longer. I hold to a little card for strength, offered to each person: a picture of Sri Chinmoy's smile and his last published poem:
 
“My physical death
Is not the end of my life —
I am an eternal journey.”
—Sri Chinmoy
 
That is the real reality.
 
Dear Guru, this is not farewell; your life lives on, portioned in all who love you. May my love be as wide as the world, just as you have taught me.

Sumangali's home

A Day of Joy in Wales
Farewell, Sri Chinmoy
Sumangali Morhall's Poems

Related stories

Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.

Breaking the world record for the longest game of hopscotch

Pipasa Glass & Jamini Young Seattle, United States

It does not matter which spoon you use

Brahmacharini Rebidoux St. John's, Canada

The very first time I heard about my spiritual Master

Banshidhar Medeiros San Juan, Puerto Rico

Now you are in the boat

Kaushalya Casey Toronto, Canada

My inner calling

Purnakama Rajna Winnipeg, Canada

If I can smile like that, it's worth becoming a disciple

Mahatapa Palit New York, United States

A spiritual name is the name of our soul, and what we can become

Nayak Polissar Seattle, United States

Your life's responsibilities compel you to develop inner strength

Pradhan Balter Chicago, United States

'I could find out myself, but it was so much easier asking your soul'

Mridanga Spencer Ipswich, United Kingdom

In the Whirlwind of Life

Pradeep Hoogakker The Hague, Netherlands

A love that was thick like butter

Mahatapa Palit New York, United States

The day I saw my Guru's Third Eye

Vidura Groulx Montreal, Canada

A Truckload of Humanitarian Aid Sails through Customs

Arthada Platzgummer Vienna, Austria

Suggested videos

interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students

Finding your spiritual Master

Gannika Wiesenberger Linz, Austria

No prior experience needed

Samalya Schafer Berlin, Germany

How I got my spiritual name

Pradeep Hoogakker The Hague, Netherlands

Starting a spiritual café

Toshala Elliott Auckland, New Zealand

Siblings on a spiritual path

Pranlobha Kalagian Seattle, United States

How I became interested in meditation

Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic

Humorous moments with Sri Chinmoy

Toshala Elliott Auckland, New Zealand

Europe

Americas

Oceania