"The Door Is Open"
Let us go, brother, once again to have his darshan. That great soul, that child who knows nothing other than his Mother, who has taken on a body and come for our sake—he will tell us what we must do to solve the problems of this hard life! He will tell the sannyasins, he will tell the householders! The door is open! He is waiting at Kali’s home in Dakshineswar. Let us go, let us go; let us see him.
“The one with infinite qualities, the embodiment of delight, at whose words, once heard, tears are shed!” [footnote]
Let us go, brother, for by having darshan of Sri Ramakrishna, that ocean of unconditional mercy, by beholding our beloved—who is drunk day and night with love of God, whose face is smiling—we thereby make this human life successful.
Today is Sunday, the 26th of October, 1884, the autumn season. The seventh day of the waxing moon in the month of Kartik. Around noon. The devotees have gathered in that now-familiar room of Thakur’s. West of that room is the semi-circular veranda. West of the veranda is the garden path, running north to south. West of the path is Mother Kali’s flower garden, and beyond that is the embankment, and then the pure-watered, southward-flowing Ganga.
Many devotees have arrived. Today is a marketplace of joy. The blissful Thakur Sri Ramakrishna’s love of God was reflected in the faces of the devotees. What splendor! Yet how could it be that this bliss was only reflected in the faces of the devotees? Outside in the garden, in the leaves of the trees, in the varieties of blooming flowers, on the vast bosom of the Bhagirathi, in the blue dome of the sunlit sky, in the cool breeze laden with Ganga spray issuing form Murairi’s holy feet, this bliss was residing. What a marvel! Truly, “madhumata paathirvam rajah”—even the dust of the garden is full of honey-sweetness! It is our wish to roll upon this very dust, in secret or with all of the devotees! It is our wish to stand in the corner of this garden all day long, and have the vision of these enchanting waters of Mother Ganga. It is our wish to warmly greet and lovingly embrace the plants in this garden—the trees, the bushes, the vines, the shrubs, and the beautiful leaves and flowers, all sweetly shining—knowing them to be our very own. Does Thakur Sri Ramakrishna not walk upon this very dust? Does he not ever come and go amongst these trees, bushes and vines? We wish to remain looking with uninterrupted gaze upon this radiant expanse of sky! And why not, since we see that all of heaven and earth is flooded with the bliss of divine love.