It was only recently I had done with an autobiography of an "accidental" journalist Vinod Mehta, Editor – in - Chief of Outlook magazine titled “Lucknow Boy — A memoir”, with a review in this column. And now I am requested to review an autobiography by my friend Dr. B. R. Pai of Vijay Wires Ltd., and of Vijay Foundation [who needs no introduction to our readers] titled rather esoterically or ambiguously as "Apprenticed to a Himalayan Master — A Yogi's Autobiography" by Sri M with an information sentence below the author's name intended, apparently, to inveigle the reader, if not gently persuade him, into contacting the author for whatever reason. The sentence reads: "We are fortunate that Sri M lives amongst us and is easily accessible." — Brigadier Narayanan.

However, here the author is not an accidental “Yogi”. The book reveals that the author Mumtaz Ali Khan was born a Muslim as his name suggests, in Tiruvananthapura, Kerala, the city of famous Ananthapadmanabha Temple. This is the story of a Muslim boy, mysteriously attracted to Hindu spiritual tradition rather than the religion, who on his own volition pursues the path to spiritual realization by going to the Himalayas at a young age of nineteen – and – a - half. Living among the Rishis in caves deep inside the Himalaya, visiting every Hindu holy place including Manasa Sarovar, he returns to the plains a transformed man. He finds his Guru in one Yogi Maheshwarnath Babaji, who transforms his consciousness totally. In matters spiritual it is usually the word “enlightened” that is used for a spiritually realized person, but here I have not found that word being used for Sri M. Wonder, if he has not yet taken that final step, quantum leap into “enlightenment” from which state of eternal bliss, God intoxication, there is no return.

1) Front cover of the book 2) Author: Sri M

Sri M was born on 6th November, 1948, as a free Indian, in an emigrant Pathan family whose ancestors had come to Kerala, apparently from Afghanistan or north - eastern part of present Pakistan as mercenaries in the army of the then Maharaja of Travancore Marthanda Varma. His father was a building contractor and a dealer in waste paper, I guess, for a supplementary income.

While still young he seemed to have developed signs of what he was to become later in life, almost similar to that of another spiritual leader of world fame, Jiddu Krishnamurti. Sri M suffered from "terrible nightmares" that drove him out of the house in the night for which various cures were tried. And in Kerala there is no dearth for the voodoo, black magic, talisman with miraculous curing power, invoking spirits etc. As for Sri M his parents tried talisman but in vain.

He was lucky to have his early education in an elite English medium school which definitely helped him in his later day life to read books by and about saints and thinkers like Swami Vivekananda, Dr. Radhakrishnan, Jiddu Krishnamurti and others. However, his encounter with a stranger in the compound of his house at dusk under the jackfruit tree and the connected experiences are all like Ripley's Believe It or Not. There are many such incidents in the book. But then, is not secrecy, mystery, magic, miracle, all part of our spiritual pursuit? It seems more so when one decides to tell his story and make it interesting. If it is so inevitable, so be it.

Some of the narrations, like about his visiting a Sufi centre in Tamil Nadu when still in his teens seems an experience born out of hallucination or fear embedded in the innermost recesses of his sub - conscious mind, manifesting itself while sleeping — a weird nightmare. Similarly, Sri M's meeting with the Yogi, whom he had earlier "met" under the jackfruit tree at his house in Kerala years ago, at Mana village in Badrinath! Sri M was variously addressed by Yogis and Ashramites as Shivaprasad and Madhu during his Himalayan travels. Sri M finds his master at last whom he calls Babaji and Babaji calls Sri M as Madhu.

The search, however, of Sri M does not end here though he was initiated into Kriya Yoga by Babaji. And if you thought the author's name in the autobiography "Sri M" is derived from the author's original Muslim name Mumtaz (Ali Khan), you are wrong. It is not even from the first letter of the name Madhu given to him by Babaji. An allusion was made to Sri M's and Babaji's earlier life and here is how “M” came in: "... the legendary Sri Guru Babaji who was your Guru then. I am one of his earliest disciples, and my name is Maheshwarnath. Sometime in the future people will call you “M” and you will be reminded of me constantly..." All this transpires in Vyasa Guha.

However, Jiddu Krishnamurti, in whose Vasant Vihar Centre in Chennai and at Rishi Valley Sri M had spent nearly 20 years, had told Mumtaz Ali Khan that he found it difficult to pronounce his name and "M could be easier." For all these reasons the author is "Sri M."

Satyam Eva Jayate. Truth alone triumphs. Who knows how much truth is there in any autobiography. Though an autography should be like a Confession. Who would like to suffer self - goals? Who would say anything that is self - incriminating or that tantamounts to self - deprecation and abuse. And yet there are those who hold on to truth even in an autobiography, like Bertrand Russell. And if Sri M has triumphed, as is obvious from what we see of him today, it is because of the truth he has pursued according to his own light. Satyam Eva Jayate.

The three chapters that interested me most were, chapter 22 titled "Lighting the Kundalini Fire," not because of the enigma that it is, but because of the best description of fire I have ever read. The other one is chapter 44 titled "Vasant Vihar" (of Jiddu Krishnamurti) and chapter 46 titled "The Passing Away of 'K'" (Jiddu Krishnamurti). These chapters are simply beautiful to me. I was lost reading these chapters, written as it were in such flowery, beautiful, immaculate language. For the immediate benefit of our readers, let me reproduce a part of the text relating to just fire, not “Kundalini Fire”:

The very first learning session with Babaji took place in the evening just as it was turning dark. We sat facing the Dhuni with the flames dancing in front of us.

"Fire," said Babaji, "has been sacred to all ancient civilisations. Agni, the God of fire was invoked every day in the Vedic times. Have you thought about why fire is so important?"

"One needs fire to cook food," I said, "and in winter, fire keeps you warm and keeps wild animals away. So probably the ancients respected fire."

Babaji laughed. "Yes, yes, but there is much more to it. In ancient times, there were no match boxes. To produce fire, one went through the elaborate ritual of rubbing dry sticks together with invocations to the fire God. When the spark appeared, it was indeed a miracle. Where was this fire, before it manifested, asked the ancient thinkers. Surely, it was hidden in the wood always and needed the right conditions to manifest. So, fire became a symbol of the spirit, all pervading, yet manifesting only under certain conditions.

Another reason fire was used as a symbol of the spirit, is that fire always burns upwards. Try holding the firewood downwards, the flames always move upwards. Also, just one spark is enough to set a whole forest on fire. You can light a thousand candles from one flame with no loss to the original mother flame. What better symbol of the spirit? "When it turns destroyer, it burns everything to ashes, reduces everything to dust. The sacred fire of love and compassion burns all self - centredness to ashes. The ascetics apply ashes on their bodies, to show how they are free of limitations.

"It is not only the visible fire which is called Agni. All forms of combustion are Agni. Even the catabolic and anabolic processes that sustain the human body are called the digestive fires; as also, the fire of desire, higher or lower.

"If you had a lover, don't you call her your “old flame?” Nobody says “old water” or “old air”. Because love, desire, inspiration, all these are a kind of fire. So also is imagination. Therefore, fire has been worshipped for ages. For us, who belong to the Nath tradition, fire is part of our self. We light the Dhuni and sit for hours looking at the flames. The fire becomes our friend and protector. Our minds merge with the flames and we are one. Believe me, fire, like all of nature, has a mind of its own, and our minds are linked intimately with Agni, the Lord of Fire, so much so that the flames fulfill any wish that we have..."

The book running to 329 pages, beautifully produced with his family pictures, of some yogis and VIPs is a good read for those who are spiritually oriented with interest in life here as also hereafter. As for me, I loved the book for the same reason as also for the reason that Sri M had also worked as a journalist for a time in Delhi holding a Press Accreditation Card. It is indeed a readable book of a married "Yogi" with a happy family life. But one last parting shot to our "Yogi" from a carping cynic of a journalist, if one wishes to call me.

On page 289, Sri M writes about his one – to - one meeting with Jiddu Krishnamurti. He asks Jiddu: "I have heard your story about how even “Truth” when organised, loses its truthfulness; and yet, you head an organisation called the Krishnamurti Foundation. Babaji had nothing. He was an independent human being."

Jiddu Krishnamurti agrees. But then it is intriguing that the same Sri M is now presiding over an organisation called "Satsang Foundation."

Osho Rajneesh was never tired of reminding his congregation of inherent contradictions in his preachings as it is in life. That is the paradox with which both the saint and the sinner will have to live in this world! Amen.

By K. B. Ganapathy
Editor in Chief
e-mail: kbg@starofmysore.com
Courtesy: Star of Mysore