Hinduism has no miracles and has been clearly stated in all the Hindu scriptures. Sanatan Dharma is hard core science.When you do not understand something,you call it miracle.That is what our Yogi has to say.Uneducated, tribal people believe in miracles.Where there is no education,it is replaced by superstitions.
Superstitions in India has come because of years of invasion and destruction of the educational institution.We wish that education system be strengthened and we get rid of superstitions prevailing in the society.
“I would rather have every one of you be rank atheists than superstitious fools. There is no mystery in religion. Mystery mongering and superstition are always signs of weakness. These are always signs of degradation and of death. Therefore beware of them; be strong, and stand on your own feet.”—Swami Vivekananda
Ganesha is a symbol that needs to be decoded via meditation or visual mediation.A man in India fell in love with the statue of Ganesha.He would go to the extent of also offering him milk with a spoon.Thought and matter are co-existent.When your thoughts are very strong,it materializes.This is no miracle but science. That’s how superstitious people create heaven and hell,the temporary zones.One day he sees milk evaporating from the spoon when he used to offer milk to Ganesha.He was awed and he said O’ God,Why just me?Please accept milk from all the statues all across India.His thought materialized.The entire India saw milk disappearing from spoons of people who offered milk to the statue.This is not miracle but the game of thought. What ever you think,you create.Whatever you dream and think of, you create. If it is hell, you die and see hell. If it is evil and Satan, you get a Satan. If ghosts, you get ghosts. Whatever you think, that you become. If you have to think, think good thoughts, great thoughts. This taking for granted that you are weak little worms! By declaring we are weak, we become weak, we do not become better. Suppose we put out the light, close the windows, and call the room dark. Think of the nonsense! What good does it do me to say I am a sinner? If I am in the dark, let me light a lamp. The whole thing is gone. Yet how curious is the nature of men! Though always conscious that the universal mind is behind their life, they think more of Satan, of darkness and lies. You tell them the truth — they do not see it; they like darkness better
Why is there so much disturbance, so much fighting and quarreling in the name of God? There has been more bloodshed in the name of God than for any other cause, because people never went to the fountain-head; they were content only to give a mental assent to the customs of their forefathers, and wanted others to do the same. What right has a man to say he has a soul if he does not feel it, or that there is a God if he does not see Him? If there is a God we must see Him, if there is a soul we must perceive it; otherwise it is better not to believe. It is better to be an outspoken atheist than a hypocrite..—-Swami Vivekananda
Excerpts from Autobiography of a Yogi Chapter 5
I looked directly at the saint; his quick gaze rested on mine. He was plump and bearded, with dark skin and large, gleaming eyes.
“Son, I am glad to see you. Say what you want. Would you like some perfume?”
“What for?” I thought his remark rather childish.
“To experience the miraculous way of enjoying perfumes.”
“Harnessing God to make odors?”
“What of it? God makes perfume anyway.”
“Yes, but He fashions frail bottles of petals for fresh use and discard. Can you materialize flowers?”
“I materialize perfumes, little friend.”
“Then scent factories will go out of business.”
“I will permit them to keep their trade! My own purpose is to demonstrate the power of God.”
“Sir, is it necessary to prove God? Isn’t He performing miracles in everything, everywhere?”
“Yes, but we too should manifest some of His infinite creative variety.”
“How long did it take to master your art?”
“For manufacturing scents by astral means! It seems, my honored saint, you have been wasting a dozen years for fragrances which you can obtain with a few rupees from a florist’s shop.”
“Perfumes fade with flowers.”
“Perfumes fade with death. Why should I desire that which pleases the body only?”
“Mr. Philosopher, you please my mind. Now, stretch forth your right hand.” He made a gesture of blessing.
I was a few feet away from Gandha Baba; no one else was near enough to contact my body. I extended my hand, which the yogi did not touch.
“What perfume do you want?”
“Be it so.”
To my great surprise, the charming fragrance of rose was wafted strongly from the center of my palm. I smilingly took a large white scentless flower from a near-by vase.
“Can this odorless blossom be permeated with jasmine?”
“Be it so.”
A jasmine fragrance instantly shot from the petals. I thanked the wonder-worker and seated myself by one of his students. He informed me that Gandha Baba, whose proper name was Vishudhananda, had learned many astonishing yoga secrets from a master in Tibet. The Tibetan yogi, I was assured, had attained the age of over a thousand years.
“His disciple Gandha Baba does not always perform his perfume-feats in the simple verbal manner you have just witnessed.” The student spoke with obvious pride in his master. “His procedure differs widely, to accord with diversity in temperaments. He is marvelous! Many members of the Calcutta intelligentsia are among his followers.”
I inwardly resolved not to add myself to their number. A guru too literally “marvelous” was not to my liking. With polite thanks to Gandha Baba, I departed. Sauntering home, I reflected on the three varied encounters the day had brought forth.
My sister Uma met me as I entered our Gurpar Road door.
“You are getting quite stylish, using perfumes!”
Without a word, I motioned her to smell my hand.
“What an attractive rose fragrance! It is unusually strong!”
Thinking it was “strongly unusual,” I silently placed the astrally scented blossom under her nostrils.
“Oh, I love jasmine!” She seized the flower. A ludicrous bafflement passed over her face as she repeatedly sniffed the odor of jasmine from a type of flower she well knew to be scentless. Her reactions disarmed my suspicion that Gandha Baba had induced an auto-suggestive state whereby I alone could detect the fragrances.
Later I heard from a friend, Alakananda, that the “Perfume Saint” had a power which I wish were possessed by the starving millions of Asia and, today, of Europe as well.
“I was present with a hundred other guests at Gandha Baba’s home in Burdwan,” Alakananda told me. “It was a gala occasion. Because the yogi was reputed to have the power of extracting objects out of thin air, I laughingly requested him to materialize some out-of-season tangerines. Immediately the luchis which were present on all the banana-leaf plates became puffed up. Each of the bread-envelopes proved to contain a peeled tangerine. I bit into my own with some trepidation, but found it delicious.”
Years later I understood by inner realization how Gandha Baba accomplished his materializations. The method, alas! is beyond the reach of the world’s hungry hordes.
The different sensory stimuli to which man reacts–tactual, visual, gustatory, auditory, and olfactory are produced by vibratory variations in electrons and protons. The vibrations in turn are regulated by “lifetrons,” subtle life forces or finer-than-atomic energies intelligently charged with the five distinctive sensory idea-substances. Gandha Baba, tuning himself with the cosmic force by certain yogic practices, was able to guide the lifetrons to rearrange their vibratory structure and objectivize the desired result. His perfume, fruit and other miracles were actual materializations of mundane vibrations, and not inner sensations hypnotically produced.
Performances of miracles such as shown by the “Perfume Saint” are spectacular but spiritually useless. Having little purpose beyond entertainment, they are digressions from a serious search for God or you very own Soul.
Hypnotism has been used by physicians in minor operations as a sort of psychical chloroform for persons who might be endangered by an anesthetic. But a hypnotic state is harmful to those often subjected to it; a negative psychological effect ensues which in time deranges the brain cells. Hypnotism is trespass into the territory of another’s consciousness. Its temporary phenomena have nothing in common with the miracles performed by men of divine realization. Awake in God/Soul, true saints effect changes in this dream-world by means of a will harmoniously attuned to the Creative Cosmic Dreamer.
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