The spiritual life of brahmachari marcelo Gangadhar
(New Spanish Translation here.)
[Note from the Author: Two years after writing this tribute a dear friend and brother monk, Brahmachari Francis, left his body suddenly and unexpectedly. He was the 'other monk' mentioned throughout this tribute, a dear friend of Br. Marcelo and I, whose identity I kept private because of his role as an SRF monk. He was the 'third' of our little group. I have written more about Br. Francis in another tribute, which I hope you will read after reading this one. ]
In Loving Memory of Brahmachari Marcelo Gangadhar.
Brahmachari Marcelo was a monk of the Self-Realization Fellowship Ashram (monastery) for nearly twenty years. He was one of the most reclusive of all the monks and therefore little is known about him. I consider myself blessed to have been one of his closest friends during the fourteen years that I was a monk. After his unexpected passing, I feel it is my dharma to share his life so that it can inspire other spiritual seekers.
I received a phone call telling me that Br. Marcelo had suddenly passed away in his bedroom on February 1, 2015, from natural causes. Tears filled my eyes. Memories of him have been flooding my mind ever since.
I shall write candidly, from my heart. I consider him to be a saintly soul, a treasure of the SRF Ashram. I have decided to refer to him by his adopted spiritual name, Gangadhar [gaan-ga-dhaar], and sometimes Ganga for short. He liked the meaning of his birth name, “Ocean (Mar) and Sky (Cielo).” However, being a true renunciant, he never identified with that person. He only identified with himself as a passionate sadhaka (practitioner of yoga discipline), one dedicated to his ultimate goal of perfect love and kaivalya, liberation. He was a disciple of Sri Paramahansa Yogananda, who we referred to as Master or Gurudeva. I know nothing of his life before he became a monk, other than that in Brazil he went skydiving and loved it! Our friendship was based on our spiritual goals, not on what we had in common in life. I shall write about him as a sadhu, a holy man, for that is what he truly was.
The Snow Hat
I first saw Gangadhar at the SRF Hidden Valley Ashram when I arrived there in 1996 to apply for the Monastic Order. Every Wednesday night there was a three-hour meditation. I was rather new and was very intimidated by that length. Much of the time passed with my eyes open, looking at the altar in prayer. After a month of this, I realized that each night the same person was sitting in the front row before the altar. There he sat, every week, in the exact same seat, wearing a snow hat with the yarn-ball thing on top. It was green and yellow. And it never moved.
I started to admire how he would sit there for the entire three hours without moving nor sleeping. He would spend over an hour—much longer than anyone else—with his hands in a form of the brahmari pranayama mudra, his elbows resting on a wooden support (SRF practitioners know this to be the Om Technique). Even now when I close my eyes I can see that image—the dim altar lights and the still figure of Gangadhar meditating, wearing his snow hat with that ball on top.
I was inspired by his consistent dedication and stillness. I wanted to meet him. But he was very reclusive and shy. During the day I was assigned to work in the fields while he was working in the kitchen. He was busy serving meals when I had time off, and his breaks occurred while I was working. And so months passed and I never spoke with him. But when my eyes would catch his, he always smiled at me like a child. His eyes were large and brown. His face was round and young, although a few elegant wrinkles on the sides of his eyes showed me that he was older than me—I was 19, he was probably 29-32. His laughter was from the belly, slow and calm. He was never loud. When he spoke, I could hear a thick accent. I learned that his name was Marcelo Sanitas and that he was from Brazil. That explained his green and yellow snow hat.
In Spring of 1997 I was sent to work at the SRF Mother Center in Los Angeles to continue with my application process. I never saw him for the next eighteen months, but always remembered the snow hat in front of the altar, motionless yet burning with life.
Life in the Ashram
In 1999, I entered the SRF Postulant Ashram in Encinitas, CA, a few months after Gangadhar entered. We had just completed our application period of nearly two years. The postulant phase lasted two to three years and was like spiritual boot camp, training us how to be an SRF monk. After that phase, one would be invited to take the Novice Vow, and would be assigned a position of work in the organization. After another several years, the Brahmachari Vow would be offered with further responsibility in the organization. The Sannyas Vow is possible only after one has been a monk for fifteen years, and is a vow for life, when one becomes a swami, or “Brother” as they are called in SRF.
The SRF ashram was not a dreary, morose monastery. The spiritual life indeed can be very joyous and happy, but only if it comes from within. Gangadhar and a few others taught me how to make life in the ashram joyous from within rather than from the social life and culture of the ashram.
It did not take me long to realize that Gangadhar was a black sheep. Not just culturally, but because of his temperament. And he was misunderstood for it—both by his peers and leadership. But can anyone be blamed for this? When we look at the lives of saints, they are always met with misunderstanding, even from loved ones. It is extremely difficult to understand the nature of such a soul. The mind says, "I know what a saint is," and it creates a false sense of security and knowledge. But when actual saints come along, we either fail to recognize them or we try to find some traits in them that do not meet our criteria for holiness. I do not claim that Gangadhar was a saint, but certainly a holy man. His inner joy was untouched by everyone else’s evaluations of him.
God Is In The Flowers
Our daily work was gardening and landscaping to maintain the world class SRF Meditation Gardens in Encinitas. I was first assigned to work in the Nursery as an assistant to Gangadhar.
Gangadhar worked hard, never stopping to chat. Our supervisor, a jovial monk from Austria, gave precise instructions on how to run the Nursery, including the propagation and fertilization of flowers. But Gangadhar just planted as much as he could of whatever flowers were the most colorful and he fertilized them like an Italian mother feeds her children.The result was an overgrown nursery that contained more flowers than the actual Gardens themselves. He loved flowers and he knew how to grow them—tons of them. It was more than his cultural affinity for the abundance of Brazilian tropics. He saw a spiritual quality in the flowers. I can see him now, wearing his straw hat, watering huge overgrown pots and saying to me, “Master said, ‘God is looking at you in the flowers.’ God’s beauty is in flowers.”
Happy Feelings
There was a very ugly cactus-like thing dangling from a hanging pot. There were dozens of them.
"What are these ugly plants?" I asked him.
"Happy Feelings," replied Ganga with a serious look.
For months every time I asked, that is the answer he gave me. Finally they bloomed, and it was a magnificent sight. Then I found out they are really called Epiphyllum, or an orchid cactus. He came up with that wonderful nickname, partly because of his thick Brazilian accent. Whenever I see those bloom, I think of Ganga's happiness.
His wild (literally) methods created a surplus of flowers, and so he filled up the Gardens with more color than it had ever seen before. We learned that the summer of 2000 was the most colorfully abundant period in the history of the Gardens, and that holds true even today. The senior monk in charge had a film crew capture this unusual overabundance and the photos appeared in SRF calendars and magazines. He told us, “In all my thirty years here I’ve never seen such color. Marcelo, it looks like you've succeeded in turning this place into Brazil. What’s next, guava trees?”
Brothers In God
I observed that Gangadhar ate mostly fruits and very little of the rich foods. The Postulant Ashram rule is to eat what is served, and the food is very rich, with lots of fake meat, eggs and dairy. Ganga would take the absolute minimum. During breaks, when everyone could have snacks of their choice, he would eat more fruit.
He was quiet, but never grumpy. He smiled all the time, yet avoided conversation. At times he seemed strained by all the talk and activity of the group; he just wanted to be left alone. But when the situation was natural and calm he was very fun, happy and pleasant.
I myself had entered the ashram with a desire to live according to India’s tradition of sadhana. I entered with “a strong Hindu bias” as one monk observed. I knew that Yoganandaji had to adapt his organization and teachings to accommodate American attitudes and customs. But I had expected that within the ashram an extraordinary world would exist. It was there, but it had to be discovered individually, creatively, esoterically. And Gangadhar helped me find it. For this I am eternally grateful to him.
This is the first note I received from Gangadhar, dated “Eternity.”
Over time, Gangadhar began to open up to me, sensing that underneath my youthful American personality, I was craving the yogic lifestyle that he lived. He did not disregard my enthusiasm as “youthful romanticism” or “spiritual immaturity” (as others had). And so, early in the year 2000, Gangadhar began to reach out to me by sliding inspirational notes underneath my bedroom door.
As our friendship grew, Gangadhar and I would exchange many notes, mostly containing powerful quotes from holy texts and Yogananda’s writings. Ganga’s notes were carefully written, often using a ruler so that each line was perfectly spaced, and with different colors and drawings. So much time and care was put into them that I cherish them to this day.
We continued to work in the Nursery, propagating enough flowers to supply the Rose Parade! In a short time, we realized that we could support one another spiritually. We formed a little trio—Gangadhar, another other monk (who I shall not name in order to respect his privacy) and myself. We often spoke about the great saints and sadhus and their extreme sadhana. These unconventional souls shook the heavens to receive the Divine Response, and, incidentally, shook up society and often received persecution for it. We each took a spiritual name to address our inner yogi, the atman (soul) that was yearning to reunite with Brahman (Spirit).
Original photograph of a Yogavatar, Sri Shyama Charan Lahiri Mahashaya (1828-1895). His name had been "Gangadhar" in his previous life as a Himalayan cave-dwelling yogi.
Gangadhar chose his name because the great Sri Shyama Charan Lahiri Mahasaya was addressed as “Gangadhar” by Mahavatar Babaji. Babaji told Lahiri Mahasaya it had been his name in a previous life when he was a Himalayan yogi, meditating in caves. Gangadhar is a name of Shiva and means Holder of the Ganga because the River Ganga (Ganges) flows through the jata, dreadlocks, of Shiva. Yoganandaji esoterically explained that it also refers to the Great Yogi who holds the flowing river of prana (lifeforce) within the spine, the sushumna—signifying yoga mastery.
I took the name Chandi, the name of a boyhood friend of Paramahansa Yogananda, and a name of Divine Mother. Our other friend took the name Jyoti. He was older than Ganga and I, and very intense about the spiritual life. He inspired us with his contagious devotion and perennial enthusiasm.
The postulant training program did not emphasize long meditation. (Later on this changed, and at present a lot of the monks have six-hour meditations on Sundays). We were told that too much meditation in the beginning could lead to the bad habit of sleeping. Therefore, we spent more time working, learning monastic protocol, organizational skills, study of scripture and self-analysis.
In the midst of work and activity, we were taught to “practice the presence of God,” which is the Christian way of defining japa yoga, or the repetition of mantra and devotional whispers to God during activity or meditation. Our little trio had a pact that we could remind one another to practice japa during work. Jyoti helped me more than anyone to practice this in the midst of activity, anywhere from movie nights to car drives. And Ganga helped me more than anyone to meditate deeply at night.
I was discouraged by the lack of intense sadhana and kirtan in the ashram training, and so one day, in desperation, I revealed my heart to Gangadhar. I often daydreamed that I was a boyhood friend of the young Mukunda (the name of Paramahansa Yogananda in his youth), living a spiritual life with him in India. Mukunda would gather with his friends for late night meditations, devotional rituals and yogic austerities. There are many stories about Yoganandaji living that way here in America with some of his Western disciples. I wanted to experience this kind of life, but the ashram did not directly provide it in the way I had expected. Gangadhar consoled me and said, “We can try to create that life ourselves, right here and now.” And so, we made a pact.
The ashram rule was lights out and asleep at 10:00pm. We were to wake up at 5:30am for meditation. Gangadhar’s plan was to wait until the lock-up duty was finished and all lights were out. He would meet me at 10:30pm and we would go out to the second floor deck. There we would sit, facing the ocean, and meditate all night until 5:00am. Our friend Jyoti was in full support, but he chose to stay in his room.
Sneaking out of the ashram in order to meditate was as difficult as it was an irony. The hallway of the ashram was very squeaky—the building was built in 1917 and the wood floors proved it. Gangadhar was adamant when he said to me: “Follow my footsteps exactly.”
We slowly edged alongside the floorboard, tiptoeing past the other bedroom doors of the fifty-foot long hallway. The last two bedroom doors belonged to monks on staff who would have stopped us and reported our misdeed to the monk in charge. My fear of this possibility caused me to make a wrong step right onto a loud squeak. My heart stopped beating. Ganga ran quickly into the nearby community room, waiting to see if we were caught. The coast was clear and so we proceeded out onto the small deck that had a low wall around it for sunbathing in privacy. We rolled out our mats, wrapped up in blankets, and began our sadhana. Our agreement was that we would not talk, nor sleep, we would tap the other if he was sleeping, and we would not give up trying. If our legs were tired, we would do some simple stretches on the floor. If we could not meditate, we would open our eyes and do japa yoga.
I remember the night so well. The sound of the ocean went on, hour after hour. My mind was shifting into another paradigm; the impossible was possible, the command of sleep was broken, the monotony of life became silently adventurous.
I admired Gangadhar’s stillness. Only a few times did he stretch his legs. At this time, Gangadhar had been practicing Kriya Yoga for about ten years, while I only had a few years’ practice. I looked up to him as a big brother.
At 5:00am Gangadhar’s watch alarm sounded. I followed his stealth steps back to my bedroom door. We were each bundled up in blankets made damp by the ocean mist and morning dew. I felt at peace and a sense of accomplishment even though I’m not sure how deeply I actually meditated. I joined my hands to pranam and say goodnight. But Gangadhar looked intensely up at me, reached his right hand out around the back of my head and gently pulled my head down towards his so that our foreheads touched for a few powerful moments, and then he said, “Brothers in God.” We then looked at each other intensely, and again he said, “Brothers in God. This is the way.”
It’s A Small World After All
Being tired and blissful was a new experience for me. The next day my eyes burned and my mind was a bit slow, yet I felt a reservoir of a subtle happiness and peace that lasted all day long. Sometimes I would just laugh for no reason. I was in awe that I actually stayed up all night sitting outside striving to meditate. Working with Gangadhar during the days after our nightlong meditations was special. We never talked about the meditations, we just had a silent understanding and camaraderie. Jyoti would come by the Nursery and we would talk about spiritual things. At times, we all had smiles and our eyes watered up with joy.
"After each period of meditation at night, constantly whisper to God, 'Reveal Thyself'. Forget time. Pray until you are lost in the thought of God. It is better to know God and enter the heaven maimed of sleep for the sake of a few hour's rest to suffer in Hades of misery without knowing God. — P.Y. (Paramahansa Yogananda) "Midnight, no waves, no winds, the boat is overflowing with moonlight."
Gangadhar knew the value of balance. He knew we should not overdo it in the beginning. He chose the nights carefully, usually with a purpose. In the summer of 2000, an auspicious purnima (full moon) night was approaching. I can’t recall which one it was, but I remember that it was summer time, so I now assume it was Guru Purnima. The day before the purnima it was announced to us all that we were going to Disneyland. Everyone cheered with joy. We were to awaken extra early that morning. But Gangadhar and I decided to meditate all night anyway—as he would say, “There will always be a reason not to meditate. God must come first.” His determination changed my life—he was a Godsend, inspiring me to reach out for goals that I never would have attempted to attain alone.
And so we sat out on the sun deck from 10:30pm to 4:30am. At 5:00am everyone else woke up and prepared for the long day at Disneyland. I spent that whole day with Gangadhar. It was one of the most transformative days of my life. Nothing seemed to bother me. I did not crave any special foods nor did I get excited about any rides. I did not resist anything nor fear distractions or temptations from the material world. Gangadhar and I would look at each other throughout the day and smile like two teenagers suppressing an inside joke. I would ride roller-coasters sitting next to him and we just laughed like children. When the other monks debated over which ride to go on next, or what to eat, we would just smile.
At the end of the day, the monk in charge gave us the special privilege of splitting up into groups of three for one last ride (this was quite a treat after spending the whole day stuck in one big group).
I looked at Gangadhar and said, “Let’s go on the ride It’s A Small World."
Many think that this ride is for children. The other monks looked at me and rolled their eyes. We needed one more to join us, but nobody wanted to go on that ride. Then, feeling sorry for us, a longtime monk who liked us smiled and said he would go with us. I still remember that ride at night with Gangadhar. To this day it is the best joyride I’ve ever had. The world truly was small, ever so small, as we floated by on our raft of joy.
O Holy Night
The other nightlong vigil that I will never forget was Christmas of 2000. In the 1930s, Sri Yoganandaji had set up the tradition of a meditation dedicated to Christ that lasted over eight hours. This prospect is quite intimidating to those not accustomed to long meditation. My first Christmas meditation in 1999 was difficult. But during the whole year of 2000 I had been meditating with Gangadhar during the nightlong vigils. And even though there were nights when it was very difficult to stay awake or concentrate, we experienced tangible progress. Even Ganga told me how grateful he was for my commitment. And so this Christmas, I was ready.
I am sitting with Marcelo Gangadhar, SRF Encinitas Ashram, Christmas 2000.
All fifteen of us postulants came up from Encinitas to Mother Center (in Los Angeles) the night before the meditation, and we had to share just two rooms and sleep on the floor with mats and sleeping bags. One of these rooms was a small office room that nobody wanted. And so our little trio volunteered to stay in that room so that we could have seclusion from the others.
During the all-day meditation, I sat next to Gangadhar in a backless chair that the monks used, but Gangadhar sat on the floor with just a few other monks who were able to do that for the entire eight hours from 10am-6pm, with a break halfway through. The meditation was very special for us because Sri Daya Mata (the spiritual leader of SRF, who had lived with Paramahansa Yogananda for over twenty years) led the final hours of the meditation. When it was over, we returned to our small room.
Everyone else was getting supper and enjoying the peaceful evening. But Gangadhar sat on the floor to meditate. His silent power inspired me to forsake dinner and chatting with friends, even though I was famished. Ganga, Jyoti and I all sat on our individual mats and meditated in the dark room. Soon, all was quiet. All hunger was gone and I felt so light, peaceful and content. I eventually lied down after midnight, but I could not fall asleep until I heard Gangadhar lie down to sleep. The next day, Christmas Eve, was reserved for festivities. At night, the monks had a party and gift exchange. Gangadhar came to me and said, “I found a place where we can sit and meditate tonight.”
The joyous anticipation we felt was tangible. We were swept away on this adventure and everything else paled in comparison. We never told anyone about our meditations. Intimacy with God loses something if it becomes out in the open, unless it is shared with very close friends who would not obstruct our sadhana. Besides, we knew that our counselors would not permit us to do this.
I'll never forget this dear old bench.
We met on a wooden bench that was behind some trees. The bench faced the back of the large Mother Center building. We sat there and began our sadhana. We never talked or planned the sadhana, we never prayed out loud. For several hours I could hear monks happily talking and laughing in the community room. The contrast to our silent meditation was surreal. After midnight, the talking faded to a few whispered conversations. Then silence…and moonlight. Ah, the moon. As it rose higher, it illuminated the white ashram building. The silence became inflamed with sadhana, yearning, and the extraordinary world opened up for us. The momentum of the previous day of meditation and the determination of Gangadhar kept me fully charged all night. I had a burning anticipation within me that something special was happening, and that the magical and mystic experiences I had read about could actually become a reality in my own life. I felt as if Yoganandaji was with us as the young Mukunda, when he took the name Yogeshwar and formed a small group of friends that wanted to be sadhus and run off to the Himalayas. The bluish light of the moon and the cool night kept both of us fully awake and focused in our meditation.
When dawn came, it was Christmas morning, and all was silent. Gangadhar and I realized that the sun would soon rise and warm our cold bodies. And so we waited, hearing monks who just awoke for morning prayers begin to stir. The sun rose. We leaned back and sat on the bench in a relaxed contentment. My back was sore, but the pain seemed to be a faint suggestion compared to what I was feeling. Soon we went to get breakfast. Ganga found a jar of guava jam that a devotee had gifted the ashram. Guava was his favorite. Like a child he smiled at me, his face radiant with the joy of meditation, and said, "Divine Mother fulfills even small desires!”
The nightlong meditations of that Christmas are reason enough for me to be eternally grateful to Gangadhar. The experience completely changed my view on life and what was possible. It redefined my limits, set a new standard, and brought the spiritual life from books and dreams to the here and now. I was so moved by this experience that I photographed the bench, considering it to be a holy place in the journey of my life.
Sacred Ground
One late night we were walking in the gardens at Mother Center to go meditate in the outdoor Temple of Leaves. It must have been sometime in 2003, and the two of us were on another quest beyond the ordinary. We walked to the old tennis court where, decades before, a platform used to be placed for Paramahansa Yogananda to give diksha (initiation) to disciples. The significance of that place was very holy, but it was still just a tennis court.
Gangadhar looked to me and said, “Master wrote that he used to roll on the ground where saints had walked so that the holy dust covered his body.”
Then he said, “This ground is sacred. We should do this.”
Without waiting for my response he went on the ground and began rolling on the court. I followed, and for about ten minutes we silently rolled all over. Most of the monks would have thought this comical. But it was very powerful. I learned the value of taking Gurudeva’s words literally rather than taking them as merely inspirational or as a novelty.
Smoothies, Movies and Dreams
A number of monks who were very different from us would try to relate to Ganga, but only on their level, never trying themselves to adapt to him. I remember once when there was a social event planned at night, he did not show up. The leadership sent me to order him out of his room. This was the code of obedience and group spirit. This happened several times. I'd knock and he would open the door with his earplugs in, his room dark except for his little shrine where he was meditating. He was grave in expression, resenting having to leave his sadhana for a social gathering. He did not smile. He knew that I was also upset, but he was not afraid to show it. He allowed that friction breathe rather than “gloss over” it. He used it as fuel for his inner yearning and determination.
He would come downstairs obediently, but would be sure to make his point by sitting in the corner with eyes closed. He would be told to do some task, or one of the counselors would engage him in conversation. There was a sincere attempt to include him, but also an attempt to change him, to shake him out of his mood. But I saw it as a divine mood, very internalized. Others saw it as self-centered and pretentious. It was a difficult situation, but somehow he managed it.
He once told me, “You are more amiable. You will be popular in the ashram. But I will not fit in. It’s ok. You should go along, you will be a leader here, but don’t ever stop being the yogi that you are. Protect that at all costs. Never give in to being mediocre.”
I tried to coach him on how to fit in. He did not like joining the group sports, he did not like watching the sporting events, he did not enjoy the large social events, nor the rich foods. I said to him, “You have to relate with the guys, you have to talk about things that are mundane and fun. Otherwise they might think you are ‘holier than thou’.”
He laughed and said, “But talking about God is natural and very enjoyable. Anyway, I like a lot of fun things. I can talk about those things more.”
I asked him to be specific. He said, very seriously, with his thick Brazilian accent and childlike diction, “Well…I like smoothies. Guava is the best. And I like movies. Smoothies….movies…and dreams.”
I laughed. “I am surprised you like movies. You don’t consider them to be a worldly distraction? A waste of time?”
He said, “I love movies. Especially movies about saints and animated movies. But I can watch any movie, even all the action and war movies that they show us here. I like to practice being non-attached and to enjoy at the same time, just like a saint watches our lives and our world.”
I said, “Good, but don’t tell that part to anyone! Just say you like movies. And, now, what’s this with dreams?”
He said, “Oh yes, I love to dream.”
He then smiled and chuckled very deeply.“I love sleep. After meditation, I put in my earplugs and sleep and dream. Dreams are fun. I love to fly in my dreams.”
A Fruitful Life
Gangadhar was always searching for wild fruit. He found fruit growing from all sorts of hidden shrubs and trees He loved guavas and picked enough for all. He never just picked for himself. He knew that another way to be a part of the monastic community was to be generous. So in his free time he picked large baskets of fruits to share.
On Sundays we had the day off and we were to fast until 4:30pm. Then we could eat whatever supper we wanted, individually. Ganga always wanted to fast for longer periods, but fasting was against the rules—the leadership considered this and other types of intense sadhana to be extreme, or vain, or imbalanced. Perhaps for some it was so, but not for a sadhu like Ganga. In order to comply with the rules without compromising his ideals, he would make huge fruit salads for himself and eat at the table with the group.
Gangadhar introduced me to the Feijoa (pronounced Fe-joy-uh) or pineapple guava. Encinitas Ashram had a row of about forty shrubs. They would fruit in the Fall. On Sundays I had a hard time meditating in my room because it faced the noisy Highway 101. We were not allowed to go to the beach or walk in the Gardens. I felt trapped. So I eventually figured out that I could hide under the Feijoa tree, meditate, read, and eat those awesome fruits all day! As I sat there, I heard a loud sound behind me. I turned apprehensively only to see Gangadhar smiling at me.
“Good, you found this place,“ he said. “Let’s find the sweetest tree,” and we proceeded to have an elaborate taste testing session. About fifty guavas later, we awarded first, second, and third prizes. It was so fun to be with him in that way, so simple, wholesome and natural.
Years later when we were at Mother Center together, we would meet late at night after our sadhana and go to the main kitchen—Ganga liked it better when nobody was there. We would go to the fruit crates and feast. During persimmon season, he would instruct me to pick out all the overripe ones from the crates and scoop out the good part. In this way, he explained, we were doing a service to the community and we were not being wasteful. And by saving the best ones for everyone else, we were being humble and selfless, which he said was very important for a yogi.
Caves
Even though Gangadhar loved the sun and meditated for hours out in the heat (never burning, thanks to his Brazilian skin), he was extremely obsessed with caves. He found one in the Gardens underneath the canopy of a grouping of Melaleuca trees. We would go there during the day, even in the midst of duties. We would work hard bringing up flowers so that we could sneak into the Melaleuca cave and practice Kriya Yoga for 10 minutes and then jump back out into work. We would often meet Jyoti there too. The idea was to follow our Gurudeva’s metaphor that a bhakta (devotee) must be like the drunkard who always sneaks in a sip of alcohol in order to maintain a steady level of inebriation. This practice became so important to me that Jyoti and I continued it after Ganga moved.
The Nursery had several sheds made of cinder blocks. They were called "The Snake Pits" because snakes would hide in the tarps stored there. Ganga used to meditate in them. Then the sheds were demolished and he no longer had his little meditation caves. But he kept searching for new caves, and in the spring of 2001, Gangadhar happily informed me that he had discovered a magnificent tree cave.
“We must be careful because it is in the Forest Area.” This was an area near the nun’s quarters.
Gangadhar came to my door at 11:00pm. This would be an interesting challenge. First sneak out of the ashram building (not just to the sun deck) and walk all the way over to the nun’s area without being discovered by any of the monks who were free to walk around late at night. We succeeded, but then something strange happened. I shined my flashlight over to the tree cluster and I saw a white shirt move. We walked closer and saw that it was one of the newly arrived postulants. He was not very clever, wearing a white shirt!
Gangadhar said, “Don’t talk to him. We must return. Quickly.”
The next morning, the monk in charge held a meeting to tell us all that a postulant monk had been spotted walking around the ashram grounds at night after 10:00pm, and this was against the rules. He scolded the entire group and said we are our brother’s keepers and should not let another monk break the rules. He said that the animal who leaves the pack is the first one to be killed by the predator. Conformity and staying with the group is our only security. He then went on to say that any of us who wants more meditation is just being egotistical, because if we can’t experience God in the scheduled meditations, how will we expect to in our own meditations? It was a heavy talk.
Gangadhar came to me afterwards and said, “We have to be careful. Don’t let the others know.” I realized that the talk did not make even the slightest impression on Ganga.
He then cracked a little joke, pretending to whip me, and saying in a dramatic voice, "You must sssssuffer!"
We laughed. This was his way of taunting the archaic (yet often still present) religious idea that self-imposed suffering is necessary and happiness is egotistical. So we laid low.
In a few weeks, Gangadhar and I successfully made it to the new tree cave he had found. We had to crawl on our bellies in the dirt for about ten feet. Then, the cave was reached. Surrounded by dense branches, many of them dead, hardly any light came in. We broke more branches so that both of us could sit up straight. We set up a small altar with pictures of our Gurus. I brought a candle, but Gangadhar said, “You light the candle when you are alone here. This place is for you also. But when I am here, no light. Darkness is the light.”
I loved that cave, but my favorite spot was on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. We went there a lot too, though it was totally against the rules and off limits. I went there alone often, especially near the Hermitage caves. Even after Gangadhar was transferred to Mother Center in Los Angeles, I kept up my night vigils along the cliffs—all those wonderful, prohibited places are forever holy in my memory.
Seclusion
Two to three times a year, monks are given a weeklong retreat for more meditation and a break from the demands of cloistered life. Gangadhar took this to the extreme and refused to talk to anyone during these retreats. The ashram rule is that a monk can never be alone on retreat. But Gangadhar somehow figured out a way to be alone. He would get reprimanded, but it did not deter him. For a few years he managed to fool the ashram managers. There was an orchard near the Hidden Valley Ashram that was owned by SRF but operated by some other people. On that property there was a tiny shed that was converted into a bedroom with a toilet and sink. Gangadhar managed to spend his weeklong retreats confined to that cottage, eating only fruits, surrounded by Nature that he loved so much. Once he even managed to combine his two retreats into fourteen days straight in that little cottage.
The few times when I visited him there during those retreats, he always greeted me with love and offered me fruit to eat. He was never unkind to me. This showed me that he truly loved the brotherhood of an ashram. He was a true sadhu because he only enjoyed human interaction that was peaceful, non-possessive and humble. Conversation, if any, was enjoyable if it was about saints that were on fire for God, or if it was simple talk about Nature. Jyoti and I were philosophers and we would get into long talks. Gangadhar would lose interest and say, “You both have so much knowledge. It gives me a headache.”
We laughed, but I got his point.
Kechari Mudra
Being serious about various yoga practices and kriyas, Gangadhar dedicated himself to perfecting the Kechari Mudra. This mudra is not for everyone and it is not encouraged or taught within the ashram, even though Paramahansa Yoganandaji wrote about it. Gangadhar never paid attention to what the ashram counselors said, he did what Yoganandaji wrote and what he read about in books about saints and sadhus. And so he and Jyoti were convinced that Kechari Mudra would help us go deeper.
The mudra is described in several shastra that are accessible to the public. Some of its principles are important in the more advanced practices of Kriya Yoga. My explanation here is not breaking any of the codes of secrecy. Basically, the yogi must be able to strengthen and stretch the tongue so that it can curl back to touch the uvula (little tongue) and even further back up into the nasal passage. In some variations, the yogi can close off the nasal passage with his tongue in order to regulate breathing and direct prana for certain pranayama and kriya methods. Gangadhar decided to use every opportunity to develop this ability—including meetings!
I first noticed his strange facial expression as he started practicing during meetings. The skin between his neck and chin would expand almost like a blowfish as he curled back his tongue within his mouth By this time in his monastic life, everyone already knew that he would not participate in the meetings, even though he had to sit there for the sake of obedience and conformity. And so nobody else paid attention to what he was doing. Or maybe they just thought he was doing some neck exercises!
I chuckle now remembering when we were having lots of these meetings. The ashram leadership was trying new processes of communication to change the culture of the organization. One outside consultant was training us in his patented Synthesis method. We were at the Lake Shrine in the Summer of 2001, with about forty graduated and older monks. In a huge half circle we all faced the moderator who guided the meeting. I sat a few seats away from Gangadhar and Jyoti. I was my usual self, participating just enough to avoid ruffling feathers. But they were both meditating with eyes closed. Gangadhar was sitting cross-legged (he always sat cross-legged, even on chairs.)
At one point, about two hours into the meeting, the moderator asked everyone to introspect deeply and read all the notes that were projected on the big screen before us During the pervading silence, I heard a loud snorting sound. I looked over at Gangadhar who had apparently got his tongue stuck up in his nasal passage during Kechari Mudra. I was on the verge of laughing out loud. He opened one of his eyes and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Evidently, no one thought much of it other than a strange sound. Then he caught my eyes and I winked at him. He smiled and closed his eyes and resumed the Kechari Mudra.
In 2009, Ganga wrote a brother monk (who gave me a copy of the email and permission to publish it) about the Kechari Mudra. Until the end of his life, Ganga was always supporting others to experiment and excel in yoga sadhana.
Only Love
The Synthesis meeting lasted a grueling five hours. I cannot remember much of it, save for my own controversial statements which I was terrified to utter, and for Gangadhar’s occasional snorts. Towards the end he made an unforgettable comment. Though the moderator tried unsuccessfully to include Gangadhar (the Synthesis rules prohibit forcing someone to speak), he finally managed to kindly persuade Gangadhar to say something. It was part of a brainstorming session about Core Values for monastic life. Gangadhar ceased his practice of Kechari Mudra in order to speak. His voice was strong, very slow and calm, resonating from the abdomen upward. His diction was still childlike and his accent very Brazilian.
He said, “Only Love.”
It was quiet. Synthesis rules prohibited anyone from commenting, and so Gangadhar had a rare moment free of any verbal ridicule or laughter that usually follow radically spiritual comments. About ten long seconds followed and then he added, “Meditation…and…Simplicity.” Then he closed his eyes, which seemed a sufficient signal to the moderator. But then, before the moderator began to speak, Gangadhar opened his eyes and added, “Thank you,” smiling at the moderator, and then closing his eyes. He was so thoughtful.
Saints
Gangadhar loved saints. He read books about the unconventional and radical saints, sadhus, and yogis from all various traditions and religions. He would find rare photos of them and email them to me. And he also loved emailing me PowerPoint slideshows that he found on the Internet of very colorful pictures with fluffy music and Portuguese text, all about spiritual ideas. He told me that he liked the beauty and devotion of the slideshows. This was so typical of Gangadhar—on one hand an intense cave sadhu from India, on the other hand a childlike lover of flowers and beauty.
The First Prayer
Ganga wrote this note to one of the monks, who later shared it with me after he read the first version of this article.
Gangadhar took his Novice Vow in the later part of 2001 and moved out of the Postulant Ashram and into the larger monastic community at Encinitas. He was reassigned to work in the Monk’s Kitchen, which was separate from the Postulant Ashram. I missed him a lot, but Jyoti and I carried on without him. During that time, he was assigned to lead the morning group meditation for the monks one day out of the week. I remember how I was worried that he might not do well because of the pressure to do everything correctly in front of the all the monks, including the ones in charge. But he did well. The monk leading meditation has the freedom to choose his own prayer to lead the group in. The first prayer Ganga chose was a simple one of Sri Yoganandaji's that he had memorized. Then the meditation went on for the usual 35 minutes. At the end, I could see that Ganga had gone very deep.
As we all stood for the closing prayer, I remember how beautiful his voice became. His eyes remained intently closed.
His prayer came from his heart and he said, “Beloved God, may all beings be eternally happy.”
It was so simple and profound, the shortest prayer I had ever heard in a group. He said it with such sweetness and inner strength. It reminds me of the ancient Sanskrit prayer: Lokaha samastaha sukhino bhavantu.
Together Again
Gangadhar was eventually transferred to live at Mother Center and he was assigned to work in the Archives Department. Not long after, I was transferred to Mother Center in the spring of 2002. There were thirty-two rooms in the large dorm, and about ten were open for me to choose from. I found out where Ganga lived and was overjoyed to find an empty room across from his. At the new location, we did not meditate out at night anymore because of the bad mosquitoes. During the cold months, we went out a few times, but we seemed to be content with meditating in our rooms across from each other. Sometimes we did meet, however, especially around Christmas.
During the day on Sundays, I would often sit in the monk’s orchard, where the weightlifting gym was built. Ganga would be in his small shorts rolled up to look almost like a loincloth, basking in the sun, meditating for hours. He would walk over to one of the trees or shrubs and pick a few fruits. I loved joining him on these sunny days. He loved the pomegranate tree nearby. One day, one of the monks cut the tree severely in order to make room for one of the pieces of exercise equipment that was part of the gym. Gangadhar was so sad and did not understand how they could do that.
We visited Encinitas together one weekend and hoped to meditate in our special tree cave in the Forest Area, but we found that it was all trimmed, the dead wood removed, and the cave all gone.
Again, he was disappointed and said, “This is what they like. They take away all the places where yogis sit and animals live.”
For a time he and I were plotting some way of secretly digging caves on one of the hillsides at Mother Center, but we never took action!
Dark Versus Light, Silence Versus Song
During my first year at Mother Center, I began to settle into the freedom there (after the training period in Encinitas) and began to chant more. I have always loved kirtan and bhajan, and this was a time for me to rekindle that fire after having it suppressed in the postulant ashram. I also began practicing simple arati in my room, which involved the ringing of a small bell. But dear Gangadhar found all of this distracting.
He would tell me, “Silence is the gateway to God. Silence and loneliness.”
But I would say, “Chanting is also a gateway to God.”
We tried to find a compromise, but it was hard. Ganga felt that his need for seclusion and silence was malnourished in the ashram, and my need for devotional chanting and ritual was also underfed. This created a tension in our lives, and the little free time that we were allotted became something to fiercely guard. And so for the first time Ganga and I were faced with the need for “conflict resolution.”
During this time, he showed me his bedroom and it was pitch black inside. “I need your help sealing the window off.”
He asked me to reach up to tape over a crack of light that peaked through a huge black canvas curtain that he hung over his window. He proudly told me how he figured it out and offered me a roll of canvas to do the same. I accepted. I tried to be like him. I lived in complete darkness for a few weeks, without chanting much. But then I realized it’s not my temperament.
Finally I said, “I need to talk with you.”
We both became uncomfortable. It was difficult, I have to be honest. I’m a natural communicator, but he was not. And his English was limited. Yet we loved and respected each other, and that is the key. With a lot of patience and trust, we spoke for an hour. At the end of the talk, we both reached a mutual understanding that we were different types of yogis, both paths were valid, and we had to support one another.
Then we touched foreheads and said, “Brothers in God.”
Soul-itary Confinement ~ Ganga's Tapasya
A few weeks after our talk, Gangadhar came to me told me that he needed me to help him perform a special tapasya (intense discipline). I promised him total support and secrecy But now I can openly share this.
One of our favorite photographs of Sri Yogananda, taken in India during his time of intense sadhana, before his journey to America.
Gangadhar had found a small cement storage box. It was strange, I’m not sure what it was for. It was behind the Mother Center building, covered in ivy on the hillside It was solid cement, and very small—about 4 feet by 4 feet square, with a wooden padlocked door. He brought me to this thing and told me his plan. I would lock him inside on Friday night and hold the key until I would come to let him out on Sunday night. He would make sure he had no duties that weekend, and his hope was that nobody would look for him. I was to cover up for him if and when someone asked me his whereabouts.
I agreed with one condition: that I would check on him several times by secretly approaching and saying “Om Guru” and he would either knock three times or say “Om Guru” in return so that I would know he was okay. Agreed.
During the year of 2002-2003, I helped him about five or six times with this tapasya. He would bring only a blanket and a small photo of our Gurus. No water, no food. For 48 hours.
When I would open the small door for him on Sunday night, I would help him out and walk quietly back to his room, making sure we did not cross paths with anyone. He would take the key from my hands and we would touch foreheads and pranam. No words were exchanged.
Several times I had to cover up for him. He was assigned a counselor who was instructed to make him more social. The ashram was determined to make him more balanced and prevent him from becoming a reclusive. I would like to think that if the highest leadership knew of his sadhana, they would have supported him. I believe that an ashram should strive to nourish its saints and sadhus, however eccentric they may be. Therefore I supported his secrecy with full faith that his determination and tapasya were pleasing to Gurudeva and Divine Mother.
I know that the few white lies I told to his counselor about his whereabouts were totally justified, and if I have to pay some karmic debt for those lies, I gladly take responsibility for the payment. It is an honor that I could lock that wooden door and protect the tapasya of my dear brother in God.
A Clever Hobby
Gangadhar began to support my love for sacred music. He himself tried to learn some chants on the harmonium. He had a tiny one that was half broken. I would hear him trying to play it. Whenever he was around me and a harmonium, he asked me to chant Om Song, his favorite chant. He also drew, by hand, a cheat-sheet guide for reading music for me to use. I wish I had saved that. Sometimes he would smile at me and say, "Sri Chaitanya found God through chanting. It's good."
During this time, Gangadhar was working as an office assistant in the Archives Department, and as far as I knew, he was enjoying his job and the department supervisors where happy with his work. Most of the time he was alone, labeling boxes and files and entering data. This was perfect because he loved to be alone. But his spiritual counselor was still after him, trying to pull him out of seclusion and giving him a lot of extra duties. One day his counselor told Ganga that he must adopt a hobby. This was a common practice—my counselor also gave me the same instructions. Their intention was to prevent us from becoming isolated and depressed, which they assumed was likely to happen if we stayed too focused on sadhana or chanting. Gangadhar resisted as long as he could, but then he had to give in.
Gangadhar, after the ceremony for taking the vow of brahmacharya.
To my surprise, he chose violin. It took me some months to realize the brilliant “chess move” he played. By choosing violin, he more than appeased his counselor, and by engaging in such a loud hobby, the rest of the community quickly learned of “Marcelo’s violin playing,” which everyone thought was charming. It had the effect of diverting everyone’s attention away from his extreme spiritual practices. There was only one place he could practice without disturbing the community—in the small office beneath the kitchen, which belonged to the Archives Department. It was sound proof and totally dark. Gangadhar would play violin and then meditate. He learned only a few simple songs, but far more importantly, his counselor left him alone and Ganga kept his little cave!
Moving Forward
My life drastically changed in December 2004 when I was assigned to be the Assistant Housebrother (Assistant Director) of the Postulant Ashram. This assignment was a divine blessing and the best years of my ashram life. The position was normally given to monks much more senior to me. The newly appointed Director whom I was assisting brought in many of the very changes that I was hoping for.
Living in Encinitas prevented me from seeing Gangadhar more than a few times a year. I kept in touch with him, and he seemed to be doing well. During the annual Convocation event in LA, I would see Gangadhar more active in administrative tasks, or acting as a translator with the Brazilian and Portuguese devotees. Our monastic careers were moving forward.
When we would talk, we exchanged words of spiritual encouragement. We mostly talked about the risk of getting too satisfied with our roles in the organization, rather than “burning up the ether with longing” as Sri Yoganandaji said. Work could so easily become an excuse to forsake deeper sadhana. As we found our place in the ashram and "moved up in the ranks," we reminded each other that position, name and seniority were all meaningless in the spiritual life. As Yogananda once said, "The minutes are more important than the years."
We both took the Brahmacharya Vow together in March of 2006, along with Jyoti. It was a very sacred and joyous occasion for us all. Ganga was very happy to take the Vow because he always wanted to be a sannyasi (a Swami). His renunciation was powerful, his dispassion was evident, and his childlike joy and sweetness were genuine.
Parting Ways, United Hearts
Some busy years sped by and we didn’t have much communication. But when we would reunite, it was fun. At times we would be able to spend a weekend retreat together at the Lake Shrine, or at Hidden Valley. We would always meet to meditate at night, either outside if the weather was nice, or in a secluded place like a small chapel.
In 2010 I began to make my decision about leaving the ashram life. I talked briefly with Ganga about it and he was very simple: "Love God and deeply meditate, wherever you go."
He knew me well and he had a sense why I was leaving. He was envious that I could go to India. He really wanted to go. I am sad that he never made it to our spiritual motherland.
I left the ashram on the Fall of 2010 with support from my superiors and at the same time with indescribable grief, because I knew that the monks would be encouraged to cut off communications with me. This is the SRF rule. I was essentially losing my friendships and the ashram brotherhood, and a career which were all developed over the span of fourteen years. And they were also feeling great loss because I was much loved and was helping the leadership in the ashram. But Ganga never saw it as a loss. He saw everything in terms of sadhana. If someone continued to meditate more deeply and expand his love for God, there was no loss—even if that person was not living in the ashram. And if someone lessened his spiritual desire and practice, becoming mediocre, there was a great loss—even if that person lived in the ashram.
In the Fall of 2011, I saw Ganga in Encinitas. We were so happy to reunite. He smiled and said to me, “You look happy. You are a free spirit. I am glad you went to India.”
Then he looked more deeply into my eyes, and he could see that I was still grieving having left the ashram and being away from my spiritual brothers.
“Your sadness will pass. Your sadhana is strong. That’s all that matters. Gurudeva is in your heart and you are his. We are yogis first and always.”
I asked how he was doing. He sighed, “They transferred me here to Encinitas. They are strict with me. I was happier at Mother Center. But this is part of life.”
Then I smiled at him and said, “You must ssssuffer!” and we both laughed.
The last time I saw him was a year ago, in 2014. We bumped into each other on the street near the ashram. We smiled lovingly at one another while talking, as if underneath our casual talk our souls were gratefully reminiscing of our times together. I thanked him for all he had done for me.
He then asked me a lot about India. With resignation in his voice he said, “I will never go to India in this life.”
He knew that very few monks are ever permitted a trip to India. SRF only sends a few, and most of the ones that go have already been in the ashram for over twenty or thirty years. There is a possibility that his comment was a premonition of his early passing.
Ganga longed to live with the sadhus and yogis in India, away from the world, away from the rules and complexities of an organization. Yet here he was, a Brazilian, dressed in the SRF monastic outfit of brown slacks, yellow polo shirt, leather shoes and nicely trimmed haircut. But inside he was a cave dwelling yogi, keeping his sadhana and his ideals burning vibrantly in his heart while playing a role in his Guru’s organization. Even Paramahansa Yogananda deeply missed India during his years in America.
In the crucible of adversity, Ganga proved his spiritual strength and devotion. I have written about the challenges in the ashram in order to show Ganga's resolve. There were many beautiful aspects in ashram life. I met exceptional friends that I still cherish to this day, even though many of them are encouraged not to communicate with me. There are saintly souls in the ashram, Gangadhar was certainly not the only one! Some of my close friends are thriving there, while some have recently left. Every organization is "a hornet's nest,” as Yoganandji said. Yet he founded one, with full knowledge that it would have flaws, but do much greater good. Just like all of us, an institution is a mix of flaws and virtues and is always evolving.
The Passing of a Sadhu
I feel it is important that Br. Marcelo Gangadhar is known for what he truly was, a sadhu, a yogi, a holy man, right here and now in modern times. As I have written, he changed my spiritual life forever. If he had lived in India, or in a traditional ashram, he would have already become a swami, not because of an organizational promotion or for reaching a set number of years to prove loyalty, but because of his intense sadhana, his dispassion for the ways of the world and society, his love of Nature and simplicity, and his disciplined tapasya that came from his own will rather than from a rule or a schedule.
He was like an exotic wildflower that suddenly sprouted up and bloomed, not fitting or blending into the garden. Some people admired the flower and recognized its auspicious appearance, while some tried to move it, trim it and make it blend into the landscape. This flower brought joy and inspiration to many people, and I hope that these stories I've shared from my heart will be a continuation of his encouragement to all.
As with all holy personages in India, the time and day (on the Lunar calendar) of their passing is made public, therefore I have done my very best to estimate it. Based on information from some of the monks who live in the same dorm as he, he passed away in the late afternoon of Sunday February 1. In the Vedic calendar his passing occurred on Magha Chandramasha, Shukla Paksha, Chaturdashi Tithi.
Swamis and holy men and women are not cremated in India. Although Gangadhar's body was cremated, in my mind he is buried in the ground underneath one of the tree caves in Encinitas. His spirit soars in the “ocean of sky,” forever in my memory, ever urging me to “Rest not till th’eternal freedom is won.”
Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya
Om Namo Gangadharaya Shivaya Namaha
Om Sri Gurave Namaha
Comments (67)
(Copied from the original blog post of 2015)
Mahadevan 3 years ago
You have a gracious flow in your writing. I believe it emerges from your clear conscience. I appreciate that you don’t have a biased tone when you speak of the challenges faced in a spiritual organization.
This is a blissful portrait of a beautiful soul and I cherish this. I had the good luck of watching you perform Kali puja at the Ramakrishna Mutt(thanks to FB live) And I had the good fortune of reading this as well.
Karl 3 years ago
Thank you for sharing your experiences with Br. Ganga. Our true soul connections in this lifetime are so few. May we always experience the true essence of every soul we meet. May we seek guidance from Master's Ray through all things, in all places, and see his love reflected in all. What a beautiful life!
Sharmila Chakravarty 4 years ago
Thank you for sharing your precious memories of Br.Gangadhar. Reading the tribute was very intense, highly inspirational and blissful. Resolutions got rejuvenated. It was so vivid as if I was living through the whole journey. Divine mother's blessings be on you. Jai Maa, Jai Guru!
Dirk 4 years ago
I remember Marcello well from the time we were serving both in the kitchen at Hidden Valley in early 1998. He was so very sweet and tender, anxious to become a monk. He did like fruits already then; whenever the truck came with deliveries, he took the chance to pinch that good sweet apple from new zealand. Then he left to join the ashram in Encinitas to become a postulant. We gave him a poncho as farewell gift, and I gave him my HV cheque of that month. He was so grateful for it, and ran off like a child to the the monk in charge in order to ask his permission to accept that little pocket money. May he rest in peace, and have shelter with the great Ones in the Himalayas, so he can progress further on the spiritual path he has chosen, because I know he will never give up the quest. OM CHRIST GURUS
Anon 4 years ago
If Divine Light is hidden in physical darkness, Divine Healing should be hidden within the suffering self.
Is the self imposed suffering perhaps then just an attempt to 'keep churning the ether' to prevent the self from becoming too comfortable in its bodily role? <=>Just as "No candle for me" implying total darkness keeps physical eyes from their roles.
In other words :darkness is Light is a corollary to suffering is Bliss.
Therefore, 'You must sssuffer' may be archaic hidden blessing rather than a modern taunt.
paul 4 years ago
He had obviously attained Nirbikalpa Samadhi in this or a recent incarnation and you and the other "friend" not far behind. Such brief lifetimes, but long enough to inspire others with such intense and high vibrations. I hope that meditating all night and locking ourselves in a box is not a requirement for, but comes after, Nirbikalpa Samadhi, ha.
Pamela 4 years ago
Thank you Naren, jam packed full of inspiration.
Absolute beauty shared through only love.
A wink and a smile aimed at you my dear friend.
yingbing 5 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you for sharing this. It is really inspiring and encouraging.
one of Master's children 5 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you for this beautiful memorial. We reread it for inspiration and hold it close. Bri Marcelo continues to inspire from the astral. You have given him this opportunity. What a blessing. Jai Guru.
Maria Paula Sanitá 5 years ago · 0 Likes
Meu querido irmão, quanto orgulho de ter participado um pouco da sua vida terrena. Sempre iluminado e com tantos conselhos bons. Na minha gravidez me auxiliou bastante e não podia ser diferente de ter o meu filho como afilhado. As lembranças ainda são presente em nossas vidas. Nossa infância, quantos momentos e recordações. Mas nada é comparado a sua grandeza espiritual o seu amor a Deus e a criação do Todo Poderoso. Meu querido a dor da saudade sempre estará conosco, mas a certeza de que você está nas mãos de Deus nos conforta. E um dia poderemos nos encontrar e ceiarmos juntos. Deus e a Virgem Maria sejam sua companhia por toda a eternidade. Te amo até o infinito.
Maria de Lourdes Sanitá 5 years ago · 0 Likes
Meu querido irmão Marcelo!
Quando Deus está prestes a fazer alguma coisa grande ELE começa com uma dificuldade. Quando ELE está prestes a fazer algo verdadeiramente magnífico, ELE começa com uma impossibilidade. Quando a jornada é longa e o alvo parece muito distante, o que realmente importa é que ele estava prosseguindo em sua caminhada. A cada dia mais perto do seu sonho. Nunca houve razões suficientes para que ele se desencorajasse . Pelo contrário, ao pensar na caminhada que tinha pela frente, sempre grato a Deus por lhe haver dado um sonho, bem como saúde e a oportunidade de prosseguir rumo ao alvo, ser um filho digno de Deus estar a cada dia mais próximo a ele.
Fazendo dele uma pessoa que fez uma enorme diferença, não apenas na sua vida, como de muitos ao seu redor. Que DEUS te abençoe meu irmão grandiosamente a seu lado.
Muitas saudades....
5 years ago · 1 Like
As lembranças fortes que tenho do meu irmão de sangue Marcelo são:
- Quando o Marcelo decidiu-se a seguir a Deus, Nosso Senhor; sentia na alma um desejo enorme de abandonar a vida secular. Lembro-me que ao comprar o jornal da cidade com o intuito de vender um objeto no qual precisava se desfazer para viajar aos EUA, verificou somente a parte dos classificados e torceu o restante do jornal como se torce um pano sujo, não se interessando por nada mais no que havia de noticias do mundo; dai percebe-se que sua alma já estava amargurada como a de Ló:
"O justo Ló, deprimido com o comportamento dissoluto daqueles perversos - porque esse justo, que morava entre eles, afligia diariamente a sua alma justa com as obras iníquas que via e ouvia -, e certamente porque o Senhor sabe libertar os piedosos da tentação e reservar os injustos sob castigo à espera do dia do Julgamento, sobretudo aqueles que seguem a carne, entregando-se a paixões imundas, e que desprezam a autoridade do Senhor." 1ª Pedro 2, 4-10
E decidida em duas dimensões:
1ª) No que se diz respeito a abandonar o mundo:
"Exorto-vos, portanto, irmãos, pela misericórdia de Deus, a que ofereçais vossos corpos como hóstia viva, santa e agradável a Deus; este é o vosso culto espiritual. E não vos conformeis com este mundo, mas transformai-vos, renovando a vossa mente, a fim de poderdes discernir qual é a vontade de Deus, o que é bom, agradável e perfeito." Romanos 12, 1-2
2ª) No que diz respeito a seguir a Deus em santidade:
"Sede santos, porque eu, vosso Deus, sou santo" Levítico 19, 2
- Com o tempo vimos brotar nele um desejo enorme de unir-se a Deus, ou seja, um Desejo Santo de morrer. O Desejo de morrer simplesmente porque o mundo é ruim de se viver é um desejo egoísta, porém, o Desejo Santo de morrer que o Marcelo aparentava ter é um Desejo Santo de se unir ao Santo, o quanto antes.
- Esta disposição de alma do Marcelo ficou bem clara em sua última visita a nossa família no Brasil. Na despedida, no aeroporto, demonstrava grande alegria e despediu várias vezes juntando suas mãos e baixando em forma de despedida e respeito conforme sua crença.
- Só entendemos um santo a partir do momento que temos intima união com Deus e lemos várias histórias dos santos; são pessoas comuns que desejam a união com Deus; desejam agradar e servir a Deus e não agradar aos homens; por isso muitas vezes não entendemos e não somos entendidos por eles.
O Marcelo, por motivos que somente Deus sabe, não seguiu a Tradição Católica da família, porém, cumpriu a Palavra de Deus em suas atitudes de conversão e deserto que viveu.
Com grande respeito e devoção, abençoo meu irmão Marcelo e espero sua benção e oração que vem do céu.
Lindaura T Sanitá 5 years ago · 1 Like
Meu amado filho, que hoje goza as Bençãos no Paraiso ... Eu, sua mãe terrena, sabia que seu desejo de ser Monge era grande. A conquista foi árdua, e sei que era exatamente o que sempre buscou.
Quantas vezes perguntei ao Marcelo se estava feliz e ele respondia que: "Plenamente Feliz" - ser monge foi seu ideal. Amou intensamente a Deus e Virgem Maria e assistiu a muitas histórias dos Santos, a quem tinha grande respeito e exemplo de vida. Gostava e tirava muito exemplo de Jesus Cristo, Santo Antão e São João Batista - sempre citava seus exemplos dizendo que: O Céu já era um Paraiso aqui mesmo na terra" - era querido na SELF e amava em particular a cada um dos Monges e seus Superiores. E aí permaneceu até o último instante de vida. Quando "partiu para outra vida", acredito que estava, de modo especial, muito ligado a Deus.
A SELF o acolheu com todo amor e o ensinou a ser um grande homem e um exemplo de Monge. Um Santo aqui mesmo na terra !
"Nós Vos damos graças, Senhor Deus Todo Poderoso, que nos fizeste chegar a esta hora: aceitai bondoso, qual sacrificio vespertino, nossas mãos erguidas em Oração, que confiantes Vos apresentamos: Por nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo, Vosso Filho, na Unidade do Espirito Santo".
Em homenagem a todos da SELF que calorosamente o acolheu e vos agradecendo esta linda homenagem que fizeram ao Br. Marcelo. Ele está junto de todos nós, partilhando desta lindas citações, onde o vejo que realmente, conforme descreve acima, era um Santo aqui mesmo na Terra. Acreditamos nisso !
De sua mãe que tanto o amou e o amará eternamente. Lindaura
Ana Isabel Sanita Zambonini 5 years ago · 0 Likes
Br Marcelo, meu irmão amado e generoso. Saudades e ao mesmo tempo feliz por ter alcançado a maior Vitória que é a contemplaçao da Face de Deus. Hoje, está mais estreitamente junto aos Sagrados Corações de Jesus e Maria Santissima, intercedendo por todos nós. Muitas recordações boas, sobretudo nesta última visita que veio ao Brasil, para deixar seu último adeus e a mensagem " que tudo nesta vida é passageiro - nada nos pertence - somos um grão de areia, neste mundo que só um sonho e que nada temos e nada levaremos...."
Aguarde meus irmãos Marcelo e meu irmão Jorge Alfredo que o antecedeu para a Eternidade. Logo mais estaremos ceiando na Mesa do Pai, na presença dos Santos e Anjos de Deus ! Saudade sem fim...
Robert 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Naren: i have just today come across this article. Thank you so much for such a heart felt tribute. The lives of saints are so important for all of us to know, so as to be inspired by them. Jai guru!
Patrick O. 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Kenny, please forgive me for using your old name, but it's by this name that I remember the beautiful life & friendship we shared. This is deeply moving, inspiring, joyful, hopeful, & heart heavy all at once. I did not know of our loss until reading this. Hearing these inspiring stories opens my heart to remembrances personally shared with each in your holy trio. The last 5 years have missed such divine friendship and the intensity it inspires. Thank you Naren for reminding me. Please contact if moved to do so.idf, pk
Artur Cunha 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Obrigado Naren K e Bramachari Marcelo pelo vosso exemplo de amor a Deus. O relato de parte da vossa vivência em ambiente Monástico é de elevadíssimo valor para o meu caminho em busca de Deus. Tendo sido eu iniciado em Krya Yoga em 22 março de 2014, tive uma entrevista de aconselhamento espiritual pelo telefone com Bramachary Marcelo, cerca de 6 meses antes da minha iniciação e é com muito carinho que guardo os seus conselhos espirituais. Que Deus, o Guru e os Mestres os abençoem e iluminem. Se o destino um dia o levar até ao Porto em Portugal, seria uma grande honra estar na sua presença. Jai Guru
Antonio Claudio Vendruscolo 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Bramachari Marcelo comentou sobre vc Sr Naren K. ! , ele me disse sobre vc ter saído da Self R. F. , nascemos juntossou primo dele, fiquei muito feliz em ler sua homenagem , muito sincera e fantástica, a família dele toda leu sua mensagem , não conhecíamos este outro lado do Marcelo Br. Tivemos uma infância linda , alegre e feliz , nadamos em rios e lagos , escalamos montanhas e formamos juntos na Faculdade de Engenharia Civil, a família dele gostaria de te conhecer um dia se tiver pelo Brasil venha nos visitar , Jay Guru
Janet Shea 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Naren: A fellow forum member on yoganandaji.org sent me this and I treasure it, rereading it at regular intervals and always finding a new message and depth of meaning. Marcelo is for me the ideal devotee, focusing on what Master called the highest activity we can perform in life - meditation. He validates what I'm now doing in my own life, as I enter this last "Senior" chapter - which is, to perform the duties expected of me, do it all with love, hang out with spiritual, like-minded God seekers, and use the precious opportunity of my earthly life to seek out the Beloved.The outer world is such a violent mess right now, that this kind of Interiorization makes more sense than ever. Jai guru.
anhad 6 years ago · 0 Likes
thanx dear narenji for touching and inspiring account........wonderful.........going to share with my mentor and devotees friends....jai guru.....
Robert Roestenburg 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you Naren for this illumination on Br. Marcelo's life. Indeed the minutes are more important that the years (which are slipping by quickly!)
Cheery 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Lovely story, thank you for posting. Have you written elsewhere in detail about your experience at the SRF ashram?
Thunderground Samurai 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thanks for the inspiring story. A great blessing to have a friend like that. What a relief to know that there were those who successfully ignored postulancy's strict rules and regulations in order to live the spiritual life closer to the example set by the Master! Heartfelt congratulations for sneaking out at night to meditate in caves or on the cliffs. The risk involved (of being asked to leave) may be lost on some readers. Go yogis! Jai Guru!
Ramesha 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naren, Your article deeply inspired me. I've read it twice already! Thank you for reminding us the essence and the real reason for being on the spiritual path.
Much love, in Master, Ramesha
claudiadose 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Beautiful and inspiring! Thank you for sharing Naren. Blessings...
Omkari 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Om beautiful captivating wonderfilled inspiring. Om Tat Tvam Asi <3
Mukti 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naren, Just want to add that being a Jyotishi I was able to deeply enjoy reading your astrological information about the time of Br Marcelo's passing. Guruji also had Magha Nakshatra in his kundali lagna. Jai Guru
Puru 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Hi Naren, Puru here. Devarshi, Brahmachari Lynn's brother, sent me the link to your story. It was sweet and inspiring. It also gave me a glimpse into the person you have become since the days when I knew you as Yogesh's friend. Thank you for sharing your Divine romance.
Blessings, Puru
Mukti 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naren, God speaks to us unexpectedly through unexpected people in unexpected places. Your touching account of Br Marcelo's life and your relationship with him represents one of those times. It came to me through a long-time fellow devotee from India and at synchronistic time. Reading it was not merely inspiring as it was filled with lessons to be learned. Much appreciation for letting the truth shine. Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya
Nayaswami Pranaba 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you Naren for this loving tribute of Gangadhar. He was obviously a deep devotee with a clear understanding of his goal of merging with Master and the infinite. Your description of Gangadhar brought tears to my eyes. May he bless us all from the astral realms.blessings, Nayaswami Pranaba
JUGAL 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Very touching...brought tears to my eyes. Two great souls united in love of Gurudeva.
N 6 years ago · 0 Likes
I'm very sad to hear of his passing. Not because he is "gone". I know he is with Master, but I just wish Master had kept him around a little longer. He was my roommate at Hidden Valley when he first came there (1995 or 1996, I don't remember exactly). He was a pure soul, spoke hardly any English and was determined to become a monk :-) We were close in age and and we got along very well. He was a childlike old soul, and as for me, I was what some might call rather immature :-) We were both rather introvert personalities, but when walking by each other during daily chores, whether in the kitchen or outdoors, we would often make a small joke in passing and then both crack a little smile :-) It was nothing crazy, just a little something. There was always respect between us.
I left HV in 1996, returned 1998 and saw him when he went for postulant training. After that, I left HV again and life, karma, ego pushed me around the world and away from the SFR centers. Eventually I returned for good to Southern California and moved closer to Encinitas. A few months ago, 15 years after we last saw each other, we met again. I was visiting the hermitage on a Sunday and he was the monk outside on the lawn. Both of us weren't the talkative nature and I was very mindful of his privacy, ready to leave at any moment if he chose to end the encounter, but somehow we ended up talking almost the entire time the hermitage was open :-) Well... it's not like we talked back and forth constantly! I don't know... I guess we simply enjoyed each other's company.
He was a wonderful soul and human being, and I will miss him on this side.
Thank you, Naren, for sharing.
diane Stacey 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Hi Naren thank you so much for sharing your stories of time with Marcelo..The few times I worked with him at the farm, while Keith was there and abit afterwards, I recall his soft brown eyes, that always remined me of a Angel..So kind, so present, beyon judgements...Only Love...healing and calling apon the spirts of nature to bless our lives He will always live on inside of my heart and I know the few times I would see him walking in Town, Encinitas, It was as if he had to trod the path just a bit more..but now he is free and His Soul lives on in all that were blessed to be close to him.. He was truely a ray of light sent to us, to bring the true spirt of Masters Teachers..yet the wisdom of Love is the song of the Universe..filling all of us to recall this Soul Song...Marcelo to me was more then just a Holy Man..he was holyness in form... Diane Stacey.
The Cosmic Mother 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you for sharing the story of this wonderful child of Master's!~ Nayaswami Devarshi
devotee 6 years ago · 0 Likes
I am a devotee from India. Saw you at the Ranchi Ashram in 2011.Thank you for sharing such an inspiring life. God bless his soul :)
Tysu Jung 6 years ago · 0 Likes
The article was very inspiring and touching at the heart and soul level. Thank you for sharing your experience with a saintly personage as Gangadhar! You too are a Saintly soul by keep on keeping on for the love of God and Gurudeva.
Nia 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you so much for sharing these stories and pictures. I felt like I was reading the Autobiography of a Yogi. I was deeply inspired by Bri. Marcelo's desire & determination to meditate, regardless of rules or circumstances, just like Master. Those cards he made you are so nice. What a beautiful, divine friendship you had! It was very insightful to read about life in the ashram, too. Throughly enjoyed every word ~ Jai Guru!
David Joyce 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Only love, meditation and simplicity...beautiful.What a beautiful tribute and sharing, Naren. Thank you. Jai guru.
“Beloved God, may all beings be eternally happy.” Lokaha samastaha sukhino bhavantu.
and thank you for sharing this, too. An ancient prayer, so very timely, these days. David Joyce
bryonroberts 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Hi Naren,I met your father at Hidden Valley Ashram during 2004-2005. Wonderful devotee. Bought his CD too! Thanks for sharing the inspiration and love from your friendship with Br. Marcelo. Jai Guru, Bryon
pberq 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Many thanks for taking the time to post this. I has inspired me to deepen my spiritual practice. Jai Guru!
psmurthy 6 years ago · 0 Likes
I am touched by your account of Brahmachari Gangadhar. I feel blessed to have learnt of a saint's life. Thank you for sharing. He is certainly an inspiration to us - Gurudeva's disciples. How inspiring would it be to all, if such accounts were published in Self-Realization and saadhakas such as Brahmachari Gangadhar blossomed within the monastery!
His message of "Only love, Meditation and Simplicity," should be a constant reminder for all of us, for, a saadhaka can easily get distracted in the spiritual path. .
mejda das 6 years ago · 0 Likes
a deeply inspiring life thanks for sharing now he is free in master! :)
Sadhana 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Having no words, or perhaps too many words, I am moved to tears by your story. Jai Guru! Jai Naren! Jai Br. Marcelo Gangadhar! Victory and Divine Cosmic Consciousness to all beings. Aum, shanti, shanti, aum.
Keith 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Very Nice, I was an employee at the farm where they sent Marcello, he had a great sense of humor, we were both in need of at that time support we supported each other in any way we could, and he was the bright spot in my final year there after almost 8 years. I was sad to leave him, but I needed to take care of some family issues. The last time we talked he seemed in good spirits and at peace. I acctually can't think of a better place to be if you are a monk than the farm which overlooks the Pacific and is out in nature. The neighbors are friendly and Marcelo was kind and helpful to everyone. He was mostly by himself and I think for the most part liked being on his own. You should have seen how happy he was when the treditional monastic gift was given to him at Christmas. Usually all the devotees who serve at the farm give a card and monetary gift to the monks in charge, he was so happy because he was going to be able to buy a bike that he wanted. Well I will always remember him, how could you ever forget a person like this!
Alessandro 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Very inspiring,love and blessings,JAI GURU
Venu 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you so much for sharing, I am really moved and touched. God Bless. Jai Guru!
Jutta Hecht 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Naren, thank you for taking your time and your efforts sharing your experience with Gangadhar. I was very touched reading about him and it gives me so much hope and joy that even in our modern urban lives here in the West there are real Sadhus and Saints around us! Very divinely touching. Om Namaha!
Paul 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naran, Thank you for this incredible inspiring tribute! Very respectful, understanding. A wonderful insight in the ashram life and your beautiful, loving spiritual friendship! Very well written! Deeply touched! Thanks a lot! Paul
Jack 6 years ago · 0 Likes
What a beautiful tribute to a Divine soul from a divine soul ever wrapped in the Love and the light of Gods pure unconditional love and friendship. I was blessed tobe of service to this Saint in the Gift shop.
Rigo Muniz 6 years ago · 0 Likes
On 24th January 2015 I suffered a cardiac arrest. It was in my Father's birthday. I realized that God is giving me a third chance. The doctor said that years ago I suffered another silent heart attack. These last few weeks I began to intensify my sadhana. I am still weak but I am practicing God's precense. All I need it is a little spiritual push. I found in this story what I was looking for. That's all I have to say.., thank you with big letters ...
jayati 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you so much for sharing the story. And happy also that saint Gangadhar will be enjoying silence for ever with our Gurus. RIp. On Guruji. He was true lover of Guruji and now Guruji is taking care of Him. Ommm...
Michael 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naren,What a beautifully inspiring tribute to the spiritual life of Br. Marcelo Gangadhar. He was a mystery to me during the two years I spent at Mother Center in 2001-2003, and now for the first time I feel an appreciation-- and upliftment-- in knowing something of who he is. I had no idea the two of you were so deeply God-drenched, sneaking around to find secluded meditation areas... Reading about your adventures and rebelliousness toward "the rules" in order to seek God more deeply truly reminds me of Master during his years in India. Thank you so much for publishing this revelatory, sweet, thoughtful glimpse into the yogi-soul of Br. Marcelino Gangadhar. Jai Guru, Michael Warren
Beatrice Hines 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Dear Naren, I can't tell you how much your tribute to Bri. Marcelo has meant to me. I had no idea until now that he had passed away. Until about year ago, he and I crossed paths several times when I worked in the garden on Summit Street in Encinitas. I loved his sweet, loving nature and kind words. I grieve that I will see his smiling face no more but rejoice that God and Guru have taken him Home; that the goal of his life has been gloriously fulfilled. Thank you so much for taking the time to reveal intimate details describing his spiritual backbone and the divine friendship the two of you shared. May I suggest that Keith Larson (keithtoons@gmail.com), the only paid SRF employee at the Summit Street garden until March 2014, would undoubtedly appreciate receiving directly from you a copy of your tribute to Bri. Marcelo.
Jai Guru,
Beatrice
phil ragno 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Love You "Kenito"I'll never forget you.Great job on this article.Friends always,Phil
Laurette 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Thank you for sharing the inspiring life of a humble spiritual soul.
premdassills 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Narenji, Thank you for this incredible tribute and memory. Beautifully written with Love and Respect. You honor him and the Divine that is in him. Jai Guru! Jai Ma!
Roberta 6 years ago · 0 Likes
Very well thought out and well written, Naren. You have given us an idea of what it was like to be in the ashram for so many years. You and Ghangadhar faced quite a few challenges. From your memorial piece, it seems as if he was a saint. It was a privilege reading about him.
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