Producing a posthumous book of poems of their gifted friend, the late Swamini Aaradhanananda, was a most joyous and energizing experience for Suma Varughese and her Zen Pens, a group of writers she mentored.
What kind of person could inspire 22 people to put aside personal duties and obligations for six long months to bring out a book on her behalf?
The question isn’t academic. Swamini Aradhanananda, a renunciate of the Chinmaya Mission (one of India’s largest and most reputable spiritual organizations teaching Vedanta), was that person, and the 22 people included me and 21 friends from Zen Pens, a writing group that I had started 10 years ago. And the book is the newly launched Raadhaa Rhythms, a compilation of poems written by Aaradhana, as we called her.
Aaradhana had joined my Zen Pens group a few months after I started it, and it soon became abundantly clear that she was a gifted writer. The flair and flourish with which words arranged themselves at her behest, the effortlessness with which she wrote, the honesty and depth of her content, and her powerful capacity to feel contributed to submissions that were generally outstanding.
The heart of a poet
More than a writer, Aaradhana was a poet, and a wonderful one at that. The fervent flow of her words caught inspiration from almost anything – people she admired, the innumerable little joys of life that a sensitive heart and mind was quick to catch, and the gurus she so loved– Swami Chinmayananda, the great founder of the Mission, and Swami Tejomayananda, who had taken over as global head of the vast organization. She wrote about nature, women’s power, and most often, about the trials and travails of a difficult life journey. Whatever the subject matter, her style was always open, honest, and vulnerable – sharing the angst without holding back. Perhaps this, more than anything else, is the gift Aaradhana was meant to leave behind. By sharing her wounds with us, she revealed the real person behind the Swamini avatar, enabling us to recognize that being imperfect and struggling is a human experience.
But what really set her muse singing was her beloved Radha, her chosen deity. Her poems to Radha were loving, tender, adoring, and full of surrender. Here is a sample:
The Divine Game
As Krishna, I feel You
As the Boss,
Proving to me
That nothing, and no one,
Not even this body or mind,
Is mine.
As Raadhaa, I experience You
As the Divine,
That Softens often,
Feeling every loss and pause of mine,
As Thine.
The Source is the same,
Yet the force You apply,
Depends on the game.
Such was the power of her words and poetry that almost anyone who joined Zen Pens felt obliged to write a poem, whether they could or not. It was almost like a rite of passage. Over time, Aaradhana became the Poet Laureate of our group.
She was the most unlikely swamini it was possible to imagine. A free spirit, it was not always easy for her to submit to ashram life. Thanks to this, it was her destiny to be an outsider. Frequently judged and misunderstood, many of her poems are tinged with the anguish of her lot. In Zen Pens, she found a sanctuary that fed the writer, poet, and human in her. In us, she had found her tribe, and she gave us her total fidelity.
Here is a candid snippet from one of her poems:
The Outlier’s Path
Call me an outlier,
Call me a rebel!
As long as I don’t step on your toes,
What’s the trouble?
I’m no coy monk, I don’t pretend,
Though criticism of me,
May never end.
I’ve held my own in a traditional town,
I march to my own drumbeats,
My own song I sing,
I do my own thing,
If you sting me,
Of course, I may retort,
But later, I pray and bless
You from my heart.
She was every bit an artist: Dreamy and impractical, passionate and emotional. Any animal in distress, or indeed human beings themselves, would cause her to weep bitterly. In appearance, she was tiny, plump, and pretty, her Tam Brahm blood gifting her with a radiant complexion and fine features.
An Enduring Dream
When I held my first writer’s retreat in Rishikesh in 2017, Aaradhana’s project was a long-cherished one – to finally compile her body of work on Radha, and publish it. Having been daily nourished with her poems and prose shots, we did not doubt that it would be a collection worth possessing.
In November 2019, she was tragically diagnosed with cancer. And sadly, she passed away before she could realize her heart’s dream. Her Radha book, unfinished, tugged at our heartstrings. It had taken a palpable presence among us because she had talked about it so often. Some of us had even promised her donations to help her publish it. Above all, we believed in her poetry and wanted at least her words to survive her.
When we attended her funeral last year on March 23, it seemed most natural to approach Swami Tejomayananda with the proposal that we compile, edit, and produce her book if the Mission would consider taking it forward by printing and marketing it as one of their titles. Guruji (as he is called) readily agreed.
Somewhat overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task, I lay low for several months, but it was not a promise I could easily forget. Around the middle of November, I invited all those who wanted to help with the project to step forward. Twenty-one people volunteered, and Raadhaa Rhythms was born.
The first task was to compile the poems, which the content team of the Mission, who were working with us on the project, had agreed to do. Aaradhana had given me to understand that she had as many as 600 poems ready to be printed, but they were nowhere to be found. Eventually, the team dredged up 80 poems. One of our members reviewed the Zen Pens submissions from the last four years and winnowed out an additional 80 poems. With 160 poems in hand, we decided that we would select the best 108 among them.
Just when we were moving into illustrating and designing the book, the Mission team informed us that one of their printers had told them that 15 days before her death, Aaradhana had sent him some poems, the title of the book – Raadhaa Rhythms – and the design, and asked him to flow some pages. The whole episode was uncannily timed, and we could feel the presence of Aaradhana guiding us from the other side.
Matters moved briskly thereafter. The illustrator and graphic designer came aboard. We pored over the illustrations and suggested changes, approved of the elegant design, discussed the cover threadbare, and proofread the pages innumerable times. By the end of May, we were ready to hand over the designed pages to the Mission publishing team.
Symphony of Harmony
Looking back, I could not help marveling at the symphony of harmony with which we had accomplished the task. Every single person was eager and enthusiastic to do their part for Aaradhana. Compiling, editing, and design teams were formed and dissolved. There were always willing volunteers to take on any new task. Even raising the money to pay the illustrator and designer was a natural process, with members generously sending their contributions once they learned that we were open to receiving them.
There was also a rare level of cooperation and concord among the group. There were no arguments, no one voice insisting on being right, and no one storming out of the project. The enthusiasm never dimmed, even during the days when it seemed as if the production process was interminable.
This, to me, was the best part of the entire project, and I put it down to the power of volunteerism. Strangely, not being paid to do what we were doing seemed to release us completely from transactional thinking. We had nothing to gain, and therefore we had everything to give. The fact that we had chosen to do this voluntarily seemed to fill us with enthusiasm and joy. It was no one’s project, and therefore, it was everyone’s.
As editor at Life Positive, when visiting various ashrams, I was simply amazed at the joy and willingness with which members gave of their time and energy. The same people who may have twiddled their thumbs at work were capable of extraordinary acts of service. My experience with Raadhaa Rhythms further reinforces my conviction that human beings perform better when driven by a motive higher than money.
Finally, at the perfect time, the apogee of all our efforts was at hand—the grand book launch day on July 10th, Guru Purnima.
The Launch Day
The excitement was immense. And the occasion was sublime. The Saraswati Nilayam at the Central Chinmaya Mission Trust, located in Powai, Mumbai, the headquarters of this vast organisation with centres worldwide, was the venue. The stage was chastely decorated with marigold garlands. Three portraits were placed on centrestage. The first was of Adi Shankaracharya, the legendary proponent of Advaita Vedanta, which is the philosophy propagated by the Mission. The second was of Ved Vyasa, considered to be the original guru, and the third was of Swami Chinmayananda. Vedanta students, dressed in white robes, led the ceremony with profound Sanskrit chants and beautiful bhajans. The environment was charged with devotion and a sense of sacredness.
Aaradhana’s book was launched amidst this divine ambiance. It was simplicity itself. I gave a small talk explaining how we came to publish the book. Then the book was ceremoniously brought in, wrapped in brocade cloth. Swami Tejomayananda took the wrapping away, and there it was, our beautiful Raadhaa Rhythms in majestic purple, with a picture of Radha and Shri Krishna dancing atop a lotus, which was upheld by a pen.
Aaradhana’s book was finally out into the world. Her dearest dream had come true.
Rest well, Aa. Your task on Planet Earth is done. Now let your book speak for you.
If you would like to purchase a copy of Raadhaa Rhythms, please click on the following link to buy it online from Chinmaya Mission:
https://eshop.chinmayamission.com/search/Radha%2520rhythmsThe book is also available on amazon: https://www.amazon.in/Raadhaa-Rhythms-Collection-Spiritual-Aaradhanananda/dp/8175978619
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