The Nine-Day Ram Katha of Pujya Morari Bapu
London, UK · 12–20 August 2017
Across these nine days in London, Morari Bapu set a single word at the centre of the Vyaspeeth and let the whole Ramcharitmanas gather around it: *mahima*, glory. This 816th katha, Manas Mahimna, borrows its name from the Shiva Mahimna Stotra of the gandharva king Pushpadanta, and its governing insight is that the glory of Ram is itself sung by Shiva — so at the root, the glory of the Manas is the *mahima* of Mahadev. "Manas is Mahadev," Bapu says, and reads Tulsi's seven kands as seven sutras of that one glory: the *tapa* of Balkand, the *tyag* of Ayodhya Kand, and on through the *tarunya* of Kishkindha, the yearning of Sundar Kand, the *tej* of Ravan in Lanka Kand, and the *tripti*, the contentment, of Uttar Kand. The word *mahima*, he notes, sounds through the Manas fifty-two times.
The katha's quiet foundation is a single line of Tulsidas — *dekhi charit, mahima sunat*: character is seen, but glory is heard. Glory is never seen; it is felt, as peace is felt and not seen. This, Bapu says, is why Ram Lila and Krishna Lila are staged — in those few hours one beholds the *charit* and hears its *mahima*. The supreme tattva itself, Shiva sang to Bhavani, walks without feet, hears without ears, acts without hands: the child Ram crawls unseen into the shrine and eats the bhog, Vali is answered by one who hears without ears, the bow at Janakpur breaks with no hand seen to break it. Glory, Bapu adds, is of three kinds — *laukik*, the worldly; *paralaukik*, the heavenly; and *alaukik*, the extraordinary that only Ram can know.
Pushpadanta was so devoted that he stole flowers and bilva-leaves from the royal garden for Shiva's worship — until the emptied garden betrayed him, and, caught, he lost his *vidya*. From this Bapu draws a sutra Gandhi lived by: however pure the goal, it cannot be reached by impure means. Pushpadanta's *bhav* was pure but his means were not; so too Shurpanakha, who desired Ram, and Ravan, who desired Sita, both by crooked paths. And he widens *bhajan* itself beyond chanting — the poet who inspires, the musician who illumines, even *vivek*, are all bhajan; with Rumi, silence is the language of God.
Because the glory of Ram is Shiva's own, Shiva is the very doorway to the katha — as Hanuman, an avatar of Shankar, guards Ram's door, one who offends Shiva can never truly love Ram. Bapu unfolds the charit of Shiva and Sati: their journey to hear the katha, Sati's doubt rising as she sees Ram grieving in his human *lila*, her taking Sita's form to test him, and Shiva's withdrawal into *samadhi* for thousands of years, rising with Ram's name on his lips. Sati gives up her body at Daksha's yagna and is reborn as Parvati, who through unmatched *tapa* wins Shiva again. Their marriage is the heart of the early days — Shankar, who has nothing, adorned by his *bhut-pret gana*, while Narada lifts the veil to reveal the bride as the Mother of the world; from the union the six-faced Kumara is born.
On the first day, Bapu performs the introduction of the Granth: he distinguishes Valmiki's Ramayan from Tulsi's Ramcharitmanas, explains the Manasarovar metaphor that gives the Manas its name, and names its four ghats — *Naam*, *upasana*, *sharanagati* and *karma*. He walks through Tulsi's *mangalacharan* of seven Sanskrit shlokas and the *panchdev* — Ganesha, whom he reads as *vivek* or discernment, then Surya, Shiva, Durga as *shraddha* and Vishnu — before the Guru vandana and the vandana to Hanuman, Pavanputra, "the God of Hindus and Muslims" alike, golden-hued and beyond all division. Through the days he sings the glories the Manas itself names — the glory of *satsang*, in whose company crows become cuckoos and cranes swans; the glory of the *sadhu*, who eats not to fill his own stomach but to gladden yours; the glory of Ganga, drawn down by Bhagirath's *tapasya* and held in Mahadev's matted locks; and the immeasurable glory of Chitrakoot, where the Lord's true home is the heart that desires nothing but loves with *sahaj* affection.
Coming to the story, Bapu recounts the reasons the Manas gives for the avatar — the curses on Jaya and Vijaya and on Vrinda, the *tapasya* of Manu and Shatarupa, and Pratap Bhanu reborn as Ravan. Under Ravan's tyranny the Earth takes the form of a cow; Brahma counsels invoking the Param Tattva, and the sacred *kheer* of Shringi's yagna brings the three queens of Ayodhya to conceive. On Chaitra's bright ninth the four-armed Lord appears before Kaushalya, who begs him to become a small child. Vashishtha names the brothers — Ram, whose name brings rest; Bharat the nourisher; Shatrughna, destroyer of enmity; Lakshman — and from them Bapu draws three rules for one who chants Ram-naam: never exploit, never hold enmity, support as many as you can. Then Vishwamitra comes for Ram; Tadaka falls to a single arrow that grants her *nirvana*, the yagna is guarded, Ahalya is lifted from stone by a compassion above the ledger of karma, and Prabhu reaches Janakpur.
The nine days carry a living *seva*. Moved by the floods that struck Gujarat and much of North India, Bapu gathers relief funds as *prasad* of the katha — more than two crores from the assembly — to be carried to those who suffered, insisting always that he is "not a man of management" and keeps nothing. And on the fourth morning, falling on both Janmashtami and India's Independence, he reads the tricolour by his own three words: white as *satya*, saffron as *prem*, green as *karuna*, with the chakra as their union and the staff as *sharanagati*.
The final days sweep to the sea. Ram, who opens the temple door to all and lets the boatman Kevat wash his feet, establishes Shiva at the ocean's edge as Setubandha Rameshwar — the heart of the katha's *mahima*. The bridge over the water, Bapu teaches, is no work of the wave but the glory of the Name; *Rameshwar* means the Ishwar of Ram, the ideology that builds bridges and unites all — mandirs and murtis may be broken, but *vichar* and *vishwas* cannot. Ravan falls and his *tej* is absorbed into Prabhu, Vibhishan is crowned, and Ram is seated on the *singhasan* of Ramrajya. As Mahadev completes the katha for Parvati and her sorrows dissolve, Tulsi gives the closing sutra: in this age, remember Ram, for none can sing without *prem*, and one who loves, sings.