This life-story has been excerpted from the book 'They Lived With God' by Swami Chetanananda, published by the Vedanta Society of St. Lois. To read the entire studied life, and lives of 27 other close disciples, please read this book. (Swami Chetananda has also published a book on all 16 the Monastic Disciples of Sri Ramakrishna 'God Lived With Them')

More details of his life story

It is often very difficult for people to understand that actions and behavior of the great teachers of the world. People judge these great ones according to their own mental make-up and sometimes criticize them without understanding the motive behind their actions. The life story of Buddha tells how the rulers of Vasali were disappointed when Buddha accepted a dinner invitation from the courtesan Amrapali and refused theirs. Jesus' disciples were surprised when they found their Master talking with the socially scorned Samaritan woman near Jacob's well; and again, Simon could not understand why Jesus would let a fallen woman anoint his feet.

Similarly the charge was leveled against Sri Ramakrishna that he did not show 'sufficient moral abhorrence' towards prostitutes and drunkards. On the contrary, we find that one of the marked characteristics of these great souls is that they love the virtuous and the sinner alike. In fact, just as a mother may show more affection to her handicapped child than to her healthy one, so the great teachers of the world are in some ways more sympathetic towards the wayward children of God than towards the virtuous ones. After all, what glory is there in making a good man good? Buddha, Christ, Sri Ramakrishna, and other God-men paid special attention to the fallen, the downtrodden, and the destitute, and by their redeeming power they lifted the lowly to the highest state. They transformed sinners into saints.

Girish Chandra Ghosh is just an example of the transforming power of Sri Ramakrishna. Before he meets Sri Ramakrishna, Girish Ghosh had led a reckless, hedonistic life. He was a self-proclaimed libertine and a rebel against God. Yet he had a strong mind, and was a man of tremendous heart.

The life story of Girish is very interesting. It gives hope to the hopeless, faith to the faithless and inspiration to the seekers of god. Girish was born pious parents in Calcutta on February 28, 1844, and grew up a lively, carefree soul. He inherited from his father a sharp intellect and a pragmatic approach to life, and from his mother a love for literature and devotion for God. But it was his grandmother who introduced him to the rich heritage of India's epics and mythology.

From his boyhood Girish was a voracious reader and a free thinker. With his father's permission he enrolled in one school after another, yet he was not happy in any one of them. He found the disciple confining, and their methods of teaching did not satisfy his thirst for knowledge. A year after his father's death he was married, and he then left school completely without having earned a degree.

Girish was born in a transitional period of Indian history. In Calcutta particularly, Western education and culture were thrust upon Indian society, challenging the traditional Indian culture and religions. Consequently, the youth of his generation grew up in an atmosphere of doubt, atheism, and cultural chaos. At the threshold of maturity, with little stability either in his family or in society to guide him, Girish started drifting into drunkenness, debauchery, waywardness, and obstinacy. He became the leader of a group of mischievous youths in his locality. Sometimes he would even desecrate images of Hindu gods and goddesses. Within a few years he became a neighbourhood menace. Yet side by side with his perverse behaviour, Girish would raise money to help the poor secure food and medicine, or arrange for the cremation of those in his community who had died. After studying homeopathic medicine he was able to treat people himself.

Girish would often watch the people on the street through a small opening in his door. One afternoon, when the men of the neighbourhood were at work, he observed a hypocritical astrologer, in the guise of a monk, collecting information from a maidservant about the women of the household where she worked. The man then entered that house as fortune-teller, and the simple, curious women came to him to have their palms read. Girish could not tolerate it. He grabbed a branch of a flower tree in the courtyard, broke it off, and ran and attacked the astrologer. He did not stop chasing him until the astrologer was out of the locality.

That person is indeed unfortunate who loses his mother in childhood, his father in boyhood, and his wife in early manhood. In 1874, when Girish was just thirty, his young wife died, leaving him with one son and one daughter. Shortly thereafter he lost his job. A thick, dark cloud of despair seemed to hover over him. As God created grief to subdue man, so man created wine to subdue grief. Again Girish drifted, trying to forget his sorrows with the help of alcohol. But at the same time, his pent-up emotions found an outlet in a series of exquisite poetical compositions.

Six months after his second marriage Girish became ill with a virulent type of cholera, and physicians gave up hope of his recovery. Girish was lying on his bed in a semi-conscious state, surrounded by weeping relatives, when he had a vision: A resplendent female form, wearing a red-bordered cloth, appeared before him. Her face was full of compassion and love. She sat near him and, putting something in his mouth, said, 'Please eat this Prasad (sanctified food) and you will be cured'. Girish slowly regained consciousness, and from that moment his recovery began. He later recounted this mysterious vision to his brother disciples and added, 'Sixteen years later (in 1891), when I first to Jayrambati to see Holy Mother, I found to my surprise and delight that the woman who had saved my life with the holy prasad was none other than Holy Mother herself.

In August 1884, Girish's drama on the life of Sri Chaitanya was creating a sensation in Calcutta. Sri Ramakrishna heard about the play and wanted to see it, but some devotees objected because several of the roles were played by women of bad reputation. In those days girls from good families did not become actresses in the theatre. Sri Ramakrishna told the devotees "I shall look up on them as the Blissful Mother herself. What if one of them acts the part of Chaitanya? An imitation custard apple reminds one of the real fruits."

Girish was a proud man very much opposed to the idea of bowing down to anyone. But through the influence of Sri Ramakrishna his haughtiness, rudeness, and pride gradually began to melt.

Girish would say, 'I have drunk so many bottles of wine that if you were to place one bottle on top of another they would reach the height of Mount Everest'. It is true that he drank a great deal and he had once been addicted to opium. He also would visit brothels often. But one should not think that he was a seducer, an exploiter, a cheat, or given to actual cruelty. His strength of character kept him above hypocrisy and other such evils.

Girish wrote: 'Sri Ramakrishna instructed everyone to abstain from telling lies. I told him: "Sir I tell numerous lies. How shall I be truthful?" He replied: "Don't worry about that you are above truth and falsehood". When I feel tempted to tell lies I at once visualize the Master's form, and lies will not come out. Sri Ramakrishna has full sway over my heart - he has it by the power of his love. Lust, anger, and all the terrible passions vanish if one feels this transcendental love of his - no other spiritual practice is required. This realization is the highest goal of human life.

Where there is love there is faith. Girish's passionate love for Sri Ramakrishna endowed him with what the master himself described as one hundred twenty-five percent faith. He loved to talk about Sri Ramakrishna to his friends and bring them to the master to be blessed.

On January 1, 1886, Sri Ramakrishna felt strong enough to take a walk in the garden. It was a holiday and many devotees had come from Calcutta to visit the Master that afternoon. He began walking slowly through the garden, and the devotees followed him. Suddenly Sri Ramakrishna said to Girish, 'Well, Girish, what have you found in me that you proclaim me before all as an Incarnation?' Falling to his knees before the Master and saluting him with folded hands, Girish responded with a great emotion: 'Who am I to speak of him? Even the sages Vyasa and Valmiki could find no words to measure his glory!'

Sri Ramakrishna was deeply moved. He blessed Girish and the assembled devotees saying: 'What more need I tell you? I bless you all. Be illumined!' Then he went into Samadhi and began to bless the devotees, touching them one by one. With each touch he gave spiritual awakening.

Sri Ramakrishna passed away on August 16, 1886. A devotee brought the sad news to Girish, but Girish would not believe it. He said to the man: 'This is a lie. The Master cannot die'.

Girish later said: 'I heard of the Master's passing away, but I did not go to Cossipore to see him. I knew it would be hard for my weak mind to maintain faith in the Master's immortal nature if I were to see his dead body. Moreover, my eyes stand against my faith and would tell me: "Sri Ramakrishna is dead. Did you not see it with your own eyes?" For this reason I intentionally kept a conflict within my eyes and ears about the Master's passing away. If my ears tell me, "Sri Ramakrishna is dead", I shall tell them: "you have heard so many rumours about the Master. Are you going to believe everything you hear?" Let people say whatever they want. I did not witness the Master's death, so I do not believe it.

Soon after the Master passing, misfortune again hovered over Girish. He lost his two daughters. His second wife died in 1887, and few years later a young son, who had been very devoted to Holy Mother, also passed away. In the words of one of his dramas, Girish summed his feelings: 'Life is painful. The world is empty. A beautiful flower garden has withered away. A blazing fire of renunciation was growing in Girish's mind, burning up all his attachments, desires and impurities. The garlic cup was being heated and the odour was disappearing. One day Swami Niranjanananda, a monastic disciple of the Master, said to him: 'The Master made you a monk. There is no need to stay at home'. Girish took the advice of his brother disciple as an order from the Master. He left home barefoot, wearing only a single cloth, and went to the Baranagore monastery. However, his other brother disciples sent him again because they knew his body would not be able to bear the austerities of a monk's life. Girish then went visit Holy Mother in Jayrambati, her village home. Girish asked her permission to embrace the monastic life, but Holy Mother persuaded him to remain a householder, devoting himself to writing plays depicting the Master's life and teachings. After sometime Girish returned to Calcutta with new hope and inspiration. Later, when Holy Mother was staying in Calcutta she went to see his acting a few times and she enjoyed immensely.

There have been many books and articles written about Sri Ramakrishna's influence on Girish's plays. Girish himself acknowledges the fact: 'When I wrote the play Vilwamangal, several of his (the Master's) devotees questioned me about it. I told them I had learned the art of playwriting from Sri Ramakrishna. Swami Vivekananda read Girish's Vilvamangal many times and said that each time he got new light from it.

Girish introduced among the performers a custom, which is practiced even today. Before making an appearance on the stage, each actor and actresses bows down to a picture of Sri Ramakrishna. Thus, Sri Ramakrishna has become, in a sense, the patron saint of the Bengali theatre, and his photograph can be found hanging backstage in nearly every theatre of Calcutta.

Girish's self-surrender was truly unique and phenomenal. Swami Vivekananda once remarked: 'In G.C. (Girish) alone I have seen that true resignation-that true spirit of a servant of the Lord - I have not met his parallel. From him have I learnt the lesson of self-surrender.'

Sri Ramakrishna had asked Girish to continue acting and writing dramas, and he did so until the end of his life.

He breathed his last on February 8, 1912. His last words were: 'Master, you have come. Please destroy my worldly intoxication. Victory to Sri Ramakrishna! Let us go'.

Girish left the stage of the world as he had left the stage of the theatre-with the flourish and heroism of a seasoned actor. Like a drama in itself, the story of his miraculous transformation has traveled from person to person, place to place, and country to country. His acting, writing, love for art, feeling for the poor and the fallen and above all, his faith in his guru, have made him immortal.

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