Diwali, which literally means festival of light is among the most important and beloved spiritual celebrations in India. Celebrated on the darkest hour of the darkest night of Indian lunar calendar, devotees light hundreds of lamps and place them on every wall, windowsill, threshold and lintel. These little lights, it is believed, serve as beacons to welcome Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity. Diwali reminds us to actively banish the darkness of the heart affirmations of light and joy; and in doing so, to awaken to our true nature as children of Light.
We invite you, your family, and friends to celebrate this wondrous festival with Ananda this Sunday. Listen to a musical performance of the famous story of Shabari, the humble devotee of Rama. Drawn from the Ramayana, and narrated by Murali, this uplifting performance includes music by Saiganesh (our guest Lightbearer from Ananda Palo Alto, CA), and Srividhya; and a Bharatanatyam performance by Janeni & Muthurani.
Good morning, everyone.
It’s a joy to be sharing this morning with all of you. As Hriman introduced, my name is Saiganesh. I live and serve with Beyond and the community in Palo Alto, California. Today we are honoring and celebrating this holy occasion of Diwali.
Yogananda came to the US in 1920. It’s fair to say he looked rather odd. He landed in Boston as a short, dark-skinned Indian man with long black hair, wearing long orange silk robes, walking the streets of Boston. Little did people know at that time the message and the new age that he was ushering—one where East and West were going to come together in this way.
We are now sitting here in 2024. Looking out at the room, I see many familiar faces, those from this country and where I come from, India, as well as those of every other nationality represented just in this small room here in our temple at Ananda.
What Yogananda was talking about when he came was this coming together of East and West. He was looking into the future of the planet and the way in which a new age was going to be ushered. Now, here in this day and age, it might seem that there is a tech industry and Indians are educated in that space, creating jobs that set up where different nationalities live in urban areas. But computers and electronics didn’t exist in 1920.
What Yogananda was talking about was something much more than that. He was talking about India being the spiritual Guru of this planet, paving the way for a true understanding of what it meant to be in connection with spirit, with God. For those of you who have read the Autobiography of a Yogi, Babaji and Christ Together are planning the salvation of this age. Yogananda came in their name.
He was bringing an expression of spirituality, the teachings of the East, without necessarily bringing all the different cultural contexts—the Sanskrit songs, mantras, beautiful clothes, and garlands. As beautiful as all of them are, and we’ll have fun with some of them this morning, what he brought through the practice of Kriya Yoga, given to him by Babaji, was this understanding that spirituality was an inner experience. That it was in our own hands to make that personal contact with God.
We are at an age now where, whether or not you read it somewhere or somebody told you, all of us are naturally coming to that understanding. Religion is a beautiful thing. I don’t have anything against religion. As a wise man once said, “It is a boon to be born in a religion, but a curse to die in one,” which means we don’t want to be limited by that identity, the gift of religion; as Swami Kriyananda writes in his book, The Hindu Way of Awakening: Religion is filled with symbols, a lot of powerful symbols, not arbitrary ones. These symbols have a lot of power in them because they can inspire us and take us closer to our own inherent reality, our own identity with spirit. The Hindu religion, of course, is filled with its share of symbols. The symbolism in Diwali is not all that mysterious. It’s pretty clear. Some symbols are specific to a context, to a culture, like the Cross in the Christian religion. For an Indian person who has no exposure to Christianity, it wouldn’t mean much. In India, as many of you may know, often when you meet an elder, you bow down and touch their feet as a symbolic gesture of paying respect. For someone who has never seen that, in the West or in a different country, it wouldn’t mean anything. It would be inspiring for those who have that kind of attunement with that culture.
But the symbol we are honoring today is not specific to one culture or religion. This idea of light and darkness is as old as human civilization, as awareness, as consciousness because it represents something that is so easy for us to see and feel. Even an earthworm can recognize light. A sunflower turns towards the light. This symbolism, embedded in all major religions, speaks to an extremely important reality of our own lives. And that’s really what we are honoring today. Diwali is the Festival of Lights.
Yesterday, some of us were discussing, you know, I come from sunny California and in the Pacific Northwest, it also happens to be the weekend when we moved away from daylight savings. So, we’ll probably start losing the light sooner than yesterday, and it will go on until we go through the holidays and come out of it again next spring. This interplay of light and darkness, even for us to honor this occasion, this festival at this particular time, which happens to be the day exactly when we are going to miss some of the daylight later on this evening and afternoon, is such an occasion for us to tune into this idea of this inner light and of the light in all our lives.
Diwali, as those of you from India already know, is not a one-day festival. It is celebrated for four or five days depending on where you come from. All the themes around Diwali, there are many stories and myths about why Diwali is celebrated and what is honored on each day. The first day, often referred to as Dhan-Te-Ras in the northern part of India, is the day when people worship wealth and also worship Dhanvantari or the form of Vishnu, the cosmic physician, the doctor who gives us the gift of good health, the healing of the body.
He is honored because it is a form of wealth. It is a form of light to invite into our lives. Rama and Krishna are honored all over India. It is the day when Rama is said to have returned to Ayodhya, his kingdom, after killing the demon Ravana and rescuing Sita. Krishna is said to have killed another demon named Narakasura, along with his consort, who is a form of Lakshmi.
The main Diwali day is often the time when we honor the Divine Mother in the form of Lakshmi. Lakshmi is a very popular goddess, understandably, as she represents wealth and good fortune. She represents much more. Swami Kriyananda writes that Hinduism is not about idol worship, which is often mistaken as an aspect of the culture and of Sanantana dharma. He calls it ideal worship. This means we are honoring aspects of the divine and vibrational qualities that we are trying to draw into our lives.
Lakshmi, the word itself, obviously refers to the goddess, but the earliest descriptions of Lakshmi are not necessarily of a woman dressed in beautiful clothes, wearing gold, or with four hands, but rather as a luster of gold. The word Lakshmi can mean many things: glory, good fortune, abundance, prosperity—all of which we associate with the light and goodness we are trying to draw into our lives.
As with all Hindu gods and goddesses, there are many names and epithets used to refer to that same form. There are so many names for Lakshmi. I’ll name a few of my favorites. Lakshmi is often referred to as Tushti. We all had a dear friend named Tushti who left her body some years ago. Tushti is a name for Lakshmi, and it literally means contentment. If you were to pause and think about that, what is wealth if not entirely subjective and relative? The vibration of contentment, of being fulfilled irrespective of outer circumstances, is the vibration of Lakshmi.
She is also referred to as Pushti. Pushti means nourishment on all levels: the motherhood that feeds us when we are a baby, the physical nourishment of the body, but also of the mind, soul, and heart in all ways that we seek to be fulfilled. Annapurna is an aspect of the Divine Mother worshipped all across India as the form of the nourisher. She is a presiding deity of the ancient city of Varanasi. During Diwali, there is a huge celebration honoring the Divine Mother in the form of the nourisher. There is a procession that takes place in Varanasi, where she is taken on a chariot throughout the city with an abundance of food and other offerings that are shared.
One of my favorite names is Kamakshi, which also happens to be my grandmother’s name. There are many ways in which it is translated, but the one I like the most is “the form of the Divine Mother whose eyes are filled with so much compassion that her mere gaze would sublimate all our desires.”
Divine Mother represents a very specific vibration for all of us because she does not necessarily teach dispassion in the same way as the Heavenly Father would. She fulfills our desires, either by giving us the feeling of fulfillment or sometimes outwardly fulfilling them. There is nothing inherently wrong in seeking outward fulfillment for righteous desires, and that’s really what guides our lives most of the time.
Divine Mother is honored in all these forms. On this day, we are celebrating that light within and without. She represents goodness in all its shapes and forms. She represents joy and happiness; she represents all that we are seeking and the fulfillment that we know belongs to us.
Our understanding of Diwali wouldn’t be complete without acknowledging that we are Yogis. As Krishna says in the Bhagavad Gita, “What is day to the worldly man is night to the Yogi.” Sometimes, when you commit yourself to a serious spiritual quest, things take an opposite direction. Outer realities become inner realities. What means something here means something else because we are not just trying to make things work on this plane but rather trying to transcend the plane of duality.
In that sense, the light we are talking about, truly, is the inner light. Many of you may have performed fire ceremonies and are familiar with the Gayatri Mantra. If you have not seen it, I highly recommend it. The mantra is very simple, very ancient. Om bhur bhuvaha svaha, Tat savitur varenyam, Bhargo devasya Dhimahi, Dhiyo yonah prachodayat.
We are honoring the tradition in India of worshipping the supreme sun, the source of all glory and light. You offer yourself into that light. Ritualistically, it is practiced in the morning. You face the direction of East and offer water as an oblation facing the sun.
For the Yogi, all of this takes on a whole other dimension because once you learn to direct your energy inward, even the word for sun changes. The word the Gayatri Mantra uses is “Savitur.” For the worldly man or the spiritually oriented man who can only tune in through outward symbols, he offers an oblation of water facing east. What does the Yogi do? The Yogi offers Prana to the Savitur, the sun that is inside, the source of light. We realize, as taught by our own Gurus, that the true offering is that of Prana. This is exactly what Lahiri Mahasaya taught, given to him by Babaji, the sacred science of Kriya Yoga that was made well known by Yogananda throughout the world. In that sense, the highest expression of Diwali is the practice of drawing all that we are and offering it into the light.
One of the stories we will explore this morning is related to the story of Rama. He is said to have returned to the kingdom of Ayodhya, where he belongs as the king, and the lights are lit as he walks into his palace into the kingdom. What does that mean for all of us? In its highest expression, spirit is returning to its true place in the higher spinal centers. What is lit are all the chakras as we walk up our own spine with the energy being drawn. Then Rama takes his throne, and that is the true Diwali we are honoring and celebrating.
So, in that spirit, let Divine Mother’s light shine in all our lives, and may we find full fulfillment in all ways—body, mind, spirit, and soul.
I’ll invite Murali for the main presentation that will begin shortly.
Thank you, Ganesh, for that wonderful talk. It’s wonderful to have you here. Welcome, one and all, to our celebration of Diwali. My name is Murali.
What we’ll be doing is narrating a story. These stories are meant to reach the heart. There’s a lot of magical things that happen in the story, so suspend your logic, suspend your disbelief, and allow your heart to open. Hidden behind all the magic and mayhem is a way of perceiving the truth that is inaccessible to the head. That is why, traditionally in India, stories were always told with music. They were not separate but interspersed; they would come and go because it’s all a way to awaken the heart to something that would not yield to a linear way of thinking. The dance you are going to see today, you will see a couple—pay attention to the expressions and the movements and how they meld with the story and especially with the song accompanying it.
Okay, so with that, let’s begin. All good stories worth their salt begin the same way. A long, long time ago, there lived a demon. His name was Ravana. Ravana was a very evil man and he was also very strong. He was so strong that he could lift an entire mountain with his bare arms. Now, demons generally are very fierce-looking people. They’re not the kind of people that you want to take with you to a party, unless it’s a Halloween party, in which case it’s perfectly fine to take a demon with you. But even by the standards of a demon, Ravana was particularly fierce-looking. You know why? Because he had ten heads. Imagine that—having ten heads! Each head, each face, had two large red eyes, and he had long razor-like teeth that hung down from his mouth over protruding lower lips. When you have ten heads, the rule is that you have to have twenty arms, otherwise things don’t work well. That’s how the brain is built.
So, Ravana had twenty long, powerful arms, and he was a master of all magic. There was no piece of magic, wizardry, sorcery, spells, incantations, or hexes that he did not know. And there were many that he knew that nobody else knew. So, in each of his arms, he held a powerful weapon, each arm holding a more powerful magical weapon than the other. He had amassed an indomitable army of other demons who were vicious and fiendish, and they loved to terrorize and torment people. They lived in dark forests and would come out only in the middle of the night. They would invade villages and cities and took great pleasure in killing, especially kind people. They would torment the old, the infirm, and the weak. The hearts of all men grew dark with fear.
Just when it was the darkest, and they didn’t know what to do, Ravana and his hordes were so powerful, committing heinous atrocities on all people. They didn’t know what to do, so they looked skyward and called to the spirit beyond all creation. The great God, Vishnu, they called. They looked skyward and said, “Oh Lord Vishnu, you are infinitely powerful. Your compassion and love are boundless. Why are you letting us be tormented and tortured by this scourge of evil? Will you not eliminate it from this earth? Will you not come down?”
As this cry of anguish went up from earth, God responded. How did he respond? It says:
“Yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata Abhyutthanam adharmasya tadatmanam srijamyaham paritranaya Sadhunam vinashaya chadishthitam dharmasamsthapana thayasam bhavani yuge yuge”
And what that means is the Lord has promised that when evil goes out of balance and rises on the ascendant, he will recreate himself through the consciousness spread out in every atom of creation. It coalesces together to form the consciousness of God, and he walks among us in flesh and blood.
And so it was that the Supreme Spirit Vishnu incarnated on this earth. He was born in the great kingdom of Ayodhya as Prince Rama. Rama was brave and powerful. He had a great bow so mighty that it was said only he could wield it. So indomitable was Rama’s will and so mighty was the bow that when he launched an arrow from it towards an evil man, it didn’t matter where the man ran—he could climb to the top of a mountain, jump into the ocean, or hide in the forest—but guided by Rama’s will, the arrow would find and eliminate him.
Rama was also compassionate and kind, especially towards people who were good and loving. But when faced with evil, he was merciless. It was said that there was so much love in Rama’s presence that people’s hearts forgot their fear, and they felt that everything would be all right. The entire kingdom of Ayodhya, starting with Rama’s own father, could not wait for Rama to ascend the throne and become the king, eliminating evil from the earth. It was as if the entire kingdom was singing, “Victory to Rama, victory to God!” Shri Ram Jay Ram!
The entire city of Ayodhya was rejoicing at the imminent ascension of Rama to the throne. However, God had other plans. Rama had a wicked and wily stepmother. On the eve of his coronation, she managed to arrange it so that Rama’s own father called him into his room and said, “Rama, you are banished into the forest for 14 years. After that, you may come back and rule the kingdom.” With a single twang of his mighty bow, Rama could have silenced both his father and stepmother, but he was a dutiful son. So, he immediately and unhesitatingly said, “Yes, I will go to the forest.”
Accompanied by his gentle and beautiful wife, Sita, and his loyal and indomitable brother, Lakshmana, Rama went into the forest. This was not an ordinary forest but the deep, dark rainforests of southern India, occupied by great predators and wild beasts. These were also the forests where the mighty evil hordes of Ravana came out at night.
As Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana ventured into the forest, they encountered highly refined spiritual men and women of great realization. These individuals had turned their backs on the temptations of civilization and had gone into the forest because their longing for God was so great. If God walked into this room, would we know? Maybe not, because there’s no fanfare. But these men and women, with minds so still, boundless wisdom, and selfless service, knew the moment Rama entered the forest. They felt a thrill of joy tugging at their heartstrings, resonating through their bodies, that God was amongst them.
Then the question became, which of us is he going to visit first? Even among the exalted society of high spiritual achievement, the competition for God’s attention was fierce. There was a Yogi in an ashram. He looked about 16 years old, but in reality, he was 216 years old. He thought to himself, “I have been meditating for 200 years. My mind is so still that surely Rama will come to me first.”
There was a Rishi, an old, wise person who performed fire ceremonies known as yajnas. This exchange of energy with the gods kept prosperity in the kingdom. This Rishi was so accomplished and powerful that he had performed hundreds of yajnas. He thought, “Because of me, there is prosperity in the kingdom. There is neither famine nor flood, nor pestilence nor pandemics. Surely Rama will come to me first.”
Then there was a Gyani who had contemplated God’s nature all through his life. He said, “I understand fully the nature of God and the nuances of creation, and I know Purusha and Prakriti and dharma and karma. Surely God is going to come to me.”
First, Rama walks in the forest. As God walks, the muddy forest floor spontaneously blooms with flowers, converting it into a bed of flowers. There are jasmines, roses, hibiscus, and hyacinths. In still, tranquil ponds, exotic varieties of lotuses begin to bloom. The sun reduces its intensity, and the wind blows softly to caress the face of Rama.
As Rama walks through the forest, his love is so great that wild beasts lose their predatory and fierce instincts. A great lion comes and kneels in front of Rama, opens its big mouth, and falls on its back to be caressed by the Lord. A great Bengal tiger begins to play with a deer, and a great cobra opens its hood to give shade to a pregnant frog. As God walks, Mother Nature sings and dresses up for him, and the hearts of all people dance with joy. Rama’s infinite compassion destroys the dire mortal fears of all sentient beings.
Rama’s infinite compassion expanded to encompass all beings. In these ashrams, the Yogi, the Rishi, and the Gyani were waiting, wondering if Rama was going to come to them. But Rama walked right past them. They were shocked and thought, “Who could be better than us?” They got up and walked behind Rama, wondering where he was going.
Rama walked deeper into the forest, and soon they built up like a caboose behind him—all these people of high spiritual attainment wondering where Rama was going. Rama went deeper into a very dark corner of the forest where nobody had been. There, suddenly, they saw a very small hut. Inside the hut was a frail, wind-bent, stooped old woman named Shabari. She was sitting there as Rama, a tall man, stooped down to enter the hut. Shabari looked up at him, and outside, the entire mass of Yogis and Rishis were waiting, wondering how God would speak to his devotee.
There was a hushed silence. Rama and Shabari, God and devotee, looked at each other. With a voice that rang like a temple bell, Rama spoke and said the most unusual thing. He said, “Shabari, where is my basket of fruit? I’ve been waiting my entire life to eat fruit. I turned my back on the kingdom. I ran through the forest, ignoring great Rishis and Sadhus. I’ve waited all my life. Don’t make me wait any longer. Give me my basket of fruit.”
All the Sadhus and Yogis were scratching their heads, wondering, “Who is Shabari? What’s the deal with the basket of fruit?” Let me tell you what the deal is.
In her youth, Shabari was a very beautiful woman. Many people lined up to marry her, and her father wanted to get her married off. But her longing for God was so great that she said, “I don’t want this life. I want to go into the forest because there is a great Guru, a man of self-realization, named Matanga. I want to become a disciple of Matanga.”
So, beautiful Shabari went into the forest, into this deep, dark corner. There, Matanga received her. He had very high standards for whom he would accept, but the purity of Shabari’s heart was so great that he immediately accepted her as a disciple. She served him sincerely for over 50 years. By now, the blush of youth had left her face, and wrinkles had begun to show. One day, Matanga called her and said, “My child, it is time for me to leave this body.”
Tears welled up in Shabari’s eyes, and she said, “My Lord, you are my anchor. Without you, how can I find God?” Matanga looked at her with eyes filled with great love and said, “Shabari, my child, do you not know? Do you not feel it? God has incarnated on earth as Prince Rama. Love him, serve him, seek him, worship him. He will come to this forest and give you salvation.” From that day on, Shabari, a woman of very simple faith, was very happy. She went into her hut and loved Rama with all her breath. With every waking breath, she sought and worshipped him.
She asked, “How shall I serve you, Rama, my Lord, my God, with every breath that I breathe? How shall I love the Lord with every breath I breathe?”
In her little hut, Shabari was loving, seeking, serving, and worshipping Rama with every breath she took. But she had a problem. Let’s double-click on her situation. She’s waiting for God to come, and when God comes, you can’t just say, “Hey, I’m so glad you showed up. I’ve waited for you for a long time. I’m glad you could make it. Grant me liberation.” It doesn’t work that way. An important part of this transaction is that you have to give God something, not just anything. You have to give God the best of what you have. This was her problem. She had nothing.
So, she thought, “Rama is going to come. My Guru said so, but what should I give him when he comes?” Then, aha, she had an idea. “I might not have anything, but this entire forest is mine, isn’t it?” In these Indian forests, it’s true even today, there are bushes of berries. They usually produce very sour berries, but every now and then, you’ll find a good one. When you do, it is so extraordinarily flavorful.
Shabari decided that she would give Rama these sweet berries when he came. Every morning, she carried a little jute basket and went into the forest. She picked a berry, tasted it—oh, sour—spit it out, and threw it down. She repeated this process again and again. Every fiftieth or hundredth berry she tasted was sweet and flavorful, so she kept those in her basket for Rama. So, she puts it into her basket. It takes her all morning to fill up her basket with half-eaten sweet berries to be offered to Rama when he comes. She contentedly waits in her hut every afternoon and does this again the next morning. This goes on for about 20 years. A woman of very simple faith, she’s very content waiting.
One afternoon, she’s thinking, “I hope my Rama comes today because the berries are especially sweet.” She has her jute basket and is sitting in her hut, sideways to the door. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is streaming through the open doorway. Dust mites are dancing in the air. You know how, when you are facing sideways, you can sense what’s going on in your side vision? Then she sees the sunlight darken a little, as if someone is entering. She looks up, and Rama has just stooped down and entered her hut. He straightens to his full height, and Shabari, for the first time, beholds the form of Rama. Rama is tall, muscular, and well-proportioned. A great bow is slung over his shoulder, vibrating with the potential infinite power of the entire universe. He has a broad forehead, and his curly hair dances on it. His skin is the radiant blue, the deep blue color of a monsoon cloud pregnant with water. Beneath his broad forehead are perfectly arched eyebrows, and beneath them are Rama’s eyes, which are so beautiful, so enchanting, and so filled with love that one look at them is enough to satisfy all desires, both current and past.
Shabari gazes at her Lord, and Rama gazes back. “Stain my eyes forever, Lord,” Shabari says. She does not want to stop staring at the beloved form of her Lord. Outside, the entire troop of sages, Rishis, and Yogis are hushed, waiting to see what Rama will say and how he will speak to Shabari.
For the first time, Rama spreads his arms, white palms facing up, and says, “Shabari, where is my basket of berries? I have been waiting for it all my life. I left my kingdom, ran through the forest, bypassing all the sages and Rishis. Don’t make me wait any longer. Please give it to me.” With trembling hands, Shabari gives him a little jute basket filled with half-eaten but verified sweet berries. Rama sits down on the floor of the hut and eagerly eats fistfuls of these berries. Juices run down his chin, but he doesn’t mind. He makes contented noises. What could be dearer to him than the simple offering of Shabari’s love?
After he eats them and is fully contented, he gives back the basket to Shabari. As Shabari takes the basket, Rama’s hand touches hers. In that divine touch, her sins of lifetimes are cleansed, and she becomes pure. She falls at Rama’s feet. Outside, the Yogi says, “Greater than all my meditation techniques is the humble devotion of Shabari.” The Rishi, he of a hundred sacrifices, says, “More powerful than all my offerings is the offering of the heart in love to God.” The Gyani says, “The greatest wisdom in this universe is that God is love.”
As Shabari touches Rama’s feet, her body becomes ethereal. It transforms into energy. This body of light rises up into the heavens, soars beyond the heavens into the abode of Vishnu known as Vaikuntha. She goes through the seven golden doors of Vaikuntha, walks across the ocean of milk, and sits at the feet of the Supreme Spirit Vishnu. She is fully liberated.
A few months after this, Rama kills Ravana in an epic battle that lasts seven days and seven nights. The scourge of evil has been eliminated from the earth. Rama returns to Ayodhya to occupy his throne. That’s what we celebrate as Diwali. We too have banished God from our kingdom. We have to pick the sour berries, the negative emotions of ignorance, fear, anger, hatred, and jealousy. Spit them aside day after day, like Shabari did, and retain in our simple jute basket of the heart the sweet berries of love, compassion, and devotion to God. When we do, one day, Rama will walk through the open door of our hearts and grant us liberation from lifetimes of sin and suffering.