(The following is a translation of an article published in the November 1998 issue of the Hindi Vipashyanā Patrikā.)

"How extraordinary!"

Speaking in his customary soft voice, Dr Om Prakashji repeated, "It is really extraordinary. I have seen so many people die, but never like this." He was referring to my aunt and adoptive mother, Rami Devi. Truly, her illness and death were extraordinary. At the age of 75, about 15 days before she died, she was chatting with Illaichi Devi (Mataji) and happened to remark that for several months she had felt constant pain in her abdomen. She was able to endure it and remain equanimous, but she mentioned the fact in passing.

At once I called our doctor and my close friend, Dr Om Prakashji, who had become an inseparable part of the family. He examined my mother and then, taking me aside, he said, "It might be cancer of the liver. The signs all clearly point toward this diagnosis, except for one fact: in such a case the pain is intolerable, and the distressed patient keeps crying and weeping. No person could suffer from the pain of this cancer for months and not so much as mention it to anyone. Even now your mother is so peaceful. I shall have to investigate further."

Two days later, Dr Om Prakashji came with Col. (Dr) Min Sein, a well-known doctor in Rangoon. After examining Mother, the colonel said much the same thing: "All the signs suggest an advanced stage of cancer. But the patient is so peaceful, so free from distress; it is difficult to accept that she is suffering from cancer. We shall have to carry out further tests before making a diagnosis."

After they left, Illaichi Devi asked Mother, "What is the pain like that you feel?" The reply astonished everyone; Mother said, "It is much more severe than the excruciating pains of childbirth. But what is the use of crying? I observe the pain with equanimity. After all, isn’t this what Guruji [Sayagyi U Ba Khin] taught us to do?"

Mother was an outstanding Vipassana meditator. At the meditation centre of my revered teacher, only one ten-day course was held each month, starting on the first Friday of that month. Ever since she had started walking on the path of Vipassana six or seven years before, there had not been a single course in which Mother had not taken part. Just recently she had completed a special 30-day course. Her equanimity had become so established that there was no possibility of her giving way to lamentation.

After many tests, both doctors concluded that it was definitely cancer and that it had already advanced to the terminal stage. They believed that Mother had only a few days left. Any kind of treatment would be useless and would only increase the suffering. Nevertheless, they continued with palliative care.

At 3:00 a.m. on her last night, Mother told the nurse that the time of her death was approaching, and she asked for her children to be called. We all went to her room. I immediately telephoned Dr Om Prakashji. He had not yet gone to bed; just two hours before, he had been called out to see another patient who was dying. Even so, he came at once. I also called Sayagyi, and fortunately he too came with Mother Sayama.

Dr Om Prakashji checked and could not find a pulse. Mother had only a few minutes left. Shortly before her death, she said, "I want to sit up." Dr Om Prakashji forbade it, saying, "It would be better for her to keep lying down. The pain will worsen if she sits up." But Mother insisted and, understanding this as her last wish, I supported her so that she could do as she wished. To our astonishment, she made the effort to sit up cross-legged and started meditating. Truly this was remarkable Dhamma strength.

A few minutes before, her pulse had been undetectable, and now she was sitting cross-legged and meditating! To reinforce her resolve in meditation I said, "Tai mā, ‘anaissā, anaissā’," pronouncing anicca as they do in Burmese. She lifted her right hand and, touching the top of her head, said, "Yes, son, anaissā, anaissā." Then she lowered her hand. She looked at me, she looked at Dr Om Prakashji, she looked at Sayagyi and Mother Sayama, and then she looked upward and breathed her last.

The sight of such a death had astonished Dr Om Prakashji. It was about 4:20 a.m. Mother’s body had been removed from the bed and placed on the floor. We would have to wait for the others to arrive before the funeral could take place. Relatives living in Rangoon and other members of the community would arrive by 8:30 a.m. In the intervening hours, all of us remained in a sitting room nearby, including Dr Om Prakashji. We kept talking of this unusual death.

Finally the hour of 8:30 a.m. approached, when we would proceed to the cremation ground. Before the body was placed on the bier, it would have to be bathed and dressed in new clothes. Illaichi Devi went to Mother’s bedroom to perform this task, but she returned immediately and startled us all by saying that Mother was still alive. Dr Om Prakashji said, "How can this be?" Illaichi Devi explained that Mother’s body was still soft and warm, unlike a dead body.

We all went to Mother’s room with Dr Om Prakashji. He examined the corpse carefully and said that though Mother was certainly not alive, it was true that the whole body was still warm. Her face was exceptionally tranquil and illuminated by some divine radiance. It seemed as if she was in deep sleep. And this was the moment when Dr Om Prakashji remarked, "How extraordinary!" There was no doubt that she was dead but what marvel was this? I was at a loss for words.

We performed the funeral ceremony and returned home. Everyone in the family was a Vipassana meditator, and so no one cried. I meditated most of the time to maintain a Dhamma atmosphere. By early evening all the Vipassana meditators in the city had assembled for a one-hour group sitting. Sayagyi and Mother Sayama were also present. After the hour, other members of the community who were not Vipassana meditators came and, with Sayagyi’s permission, I gave a one-hour Dhamma discourse. Immediately afterwards, Dr Om Prakashji came to me and said that he wished to sit a course. "Tell me when the next course will be held," he requested. It was scheduled to be held after about fifteen days. I assured him that I would inform him well in advance. Next day again there was a Dhamma discourse in the evening. Again at the end, Dr Om Prakashji came to me and said, "The next course will not be held for some days; I wish to sit as soon as possible." Sayagyi was standing nearby. Seeing the strong Dhamma impulse that had arisen in Dr Om Prakashji, he agreed to hold a course immediately. We were astonished that Sayagyi would conduct a course for just one person, but he directed me to come to the meditation centre on the following day with Dr Om Prakashji.

The next day Dr Om Prakashji came to the meditation centre himself. I also arrived there on time, and one or two other people joined the course. After the giving of Anapana, I returned home, and Sayagyi went to his office. As usual, he returned to the centre in the evening, and later came to my home for the group meditation. On completion of the Dhamma discourse, Sayagyi told me that Dr Om Prakashji was making excellent progress. I was very pleased to hear this.

The next morning I received a summons from Sayagyi: "Your friend is endowed with abundant pāramīs. After only one day of Anapana, he has become worthy of Vipassana. Come immediately; he must be given Vipassana now." I went to the centre for the giving of Vipassana to Dr Om Prakashji, and once more returned home. Sayagyi came again for the evening meditation and discourse. There was no limit to his happiness. He said that after only one day of Vipassana, Dr Om Prakashji had attained the state of bhaṅga (dissolution) and was now working on the bhavaṅga ("centre").

The next morning he called me again and said, "Come at once. The progress of your friend is extraordinary. It seems that he has abundant pāramīs of many lives. He has reached close to the state of nibbāna. He will have to be given the necessary instructions now." Overwhelmed with great joy and wonder, I went to the centre and took my seat near Sayagyi. Dr Om Prakashji was given the requisite instructions. There was no limit to my happiness when he immediately experienced nibbāna, the state transcending the senses. Sayagyi was also happy. He examined closely and found that all the signs indicated this was the state of nibbāna. What limit could there be to my happiness! My dear friend had entered the stream of liberation, had become a sotāpanna, an ariya (noble person).

Even in worldly terms he could be called an ariya. In appearance he was tall-statured and of fair complexion, with large eyes and long nose. He was the president not only of the Arya Samaj of Rangoon but also of the Akhil Brahmadeshiya Arya Pratinidhi Sabha [All-Burmese Delegation of Arya Sabha]. For these reasons, he had been called an ariya. But now he truly deserved the title.

*****

My first contact with Dr Om Prakashji was at a public meeting in Rangoon after the Second World War in 1947. We were immediately drawn towards each other. Fortunately the friends whom I met socially were good people and I had affectionate relationships with all of them. But of them all, Dr Om Prakashji was closest to me. We used to work together in various fields. In the post-war period, we re-established the Akhil Brahmadeshiya Hindi Sahitya Sammelan [All-Burmese Hindi Literature Society], and branches opened in many places throughout the country. A symposium on Hindi literature was organised every week in Rangoon. Hindi colleges were established for the primary, secondary and post-secondary levels of study of the Hindi Sahitya Sammelan, and many students took part. Work was also done on exchanges between Burmese and Hindi literature. Hindi textbooks were written and published. The Indo-Burmese Cultural Centre was established, and through it many cultural programmes were organised. Together, both of us set up an orphanage and took responsibility for its management. Thus, after working together in several public service activities, now we had the opportunity to dedicate ourselves in the field of Vipassana.

Dr Om Prakashji had also treated me for my migraine headaches. When other medications proved ineffective, he started giving me morphine injections. But he himself worried that I might become addicted to morphine, and so he urged me to go abroad for treatment. "Even if you do not find a cure for migraine," he said, "you will at least free yourself from dependence on morphine. You will certainly find some other effective painkiller abroad." Heeding his suggestion, I travelled to many countries for treatment, but in the end I returned disappointed. Dr Om Prakashji shared my concern. Subsequently, when I joined a Vipassana course and became free from my disease, he shared my happiness.

But when I started taking repeated courses, meditating daily, and attending group meditation every Sunday at the centre, he became worried that I might become a Buddhist, an atheist. He often tried lovingly to dissuade me. I would explain to him, "With the deep influence of the Arya Samaj, I cannot be trapped in any blind belief. I have examined the teaching of the Buddha very objectively on the basis of experiential truth, and I have found it to be completely faultless. For centuries, erroneous conditionings had led the people of India to shun the stainless teaching of the Buddha. I myself was the victim of this false propaganda. But now I have found by experience that there is no trace of blemish in this teaching. I am amazed that this pure, invaluable technique of India became lost in the country of its origin." I do not know what effect my words had on him, but after my mother’s death his immense pāramīs were awakened and he became eternally dedicated to this technique.

I came to India in 1969, and Vipassana courses started to be held here. But Dr Om Prakashji stayed in Myanmar for some years longer. Even after he passed through some extremely painful experiences, his mind was not tinged with bitterness. He did not even report the misconduct of certain officials to the president of the country, who had been his classmate in college. His mind continued to be full of mettā and equanimity. Vipassana was his bulwark. Even before, his nature had been calm and stable. Now Vipassana made it more so. After some years he came to India, and became engaged in Vipassana activities.

He had been one of the leading doctors in Myanmar, but because of his generous nature, he used to practise medicine in a spirit of service. He did not charge any fixed fees. He gladly accepted whatever payment the patient offered after regaining health. He took nothing from many poor patients. Instead, to some he used to give free medicines. This was his natural disposition. After coming to India, whenever he was in Delhi, he regularly served two hours a day at the Arya Samaj free clinic; the rest of the time he devoted to the service of Vipassana. Even at the age of 87, he travelled to different places and conducted courses with unflagging enthusiasm, outdoing those much younger than himself. He also went abroad quite a few times.

Recently, he again visited America to conduct numerous courses. His itinerary brought him to Los Angeles, with the next stop to be Kansas City, followed by courses in Dhamma Kuñja (near Seattle) and Dhamma Sirī (near Dallas). While in Los Angeles, however, he suffered a stroke. When brought to the hospital, he explained his condition to the attending doctors with complete lucidity, but while doing so he entered a coma. He was in this state in the intensive care ward for some days.

During this time I myself was on a Dhamma tour of Southeast Asia. When I reached Singapore, I received the news of his illness. I telephoned and gave him mettā, but his son-in-law, Dr Soni, who was then with him, said that there was no physical sign by which it could be said that the mettā was effective. He said, "His brain is not functioning at all, and so no sense organ is functioning." I was very sad to hear this. But a few minutes before death, he seemed to regain his sense of hearing. Tapes of dohās and Dhamma discourses were being played continuously nearby. His son, Dr Rajiv, said that near the end his eyes opened slightly, his lips moved a little and he seemed to be looking at something above. Then his breathing started becoming slower only nine breaths in one minute. His respiration gradually kept slowing until he breathed his last peacefully. His face was glowing with a divine radiance. From this we may conclude that the inner consciousness had really been present all along, but he had been unable to make any physical movement though he may have wanted to. In the end his Dhamma strength arose, his eyes opened, and his lips moved proof that the inner consciousness was awake.

*****

When I returned to Mumbai after a long Dhamma tour of seven countries, I saw that among the pile of papers awaiting me was a letter he had written on 26 August. In it he described his journey up to Los Angeles, gave details of future courses, and asked for mettā.

His Dhamma service was most effective. Many Vipassana centres were eager to have courses conducted by him. In America as well, people awaited him with great eagerness. But midway in the journey he departed and attained a great promotion. The people were kept waiting. After reading his letter, I drew a deep sigh and spontaneously these words came forth:

Baḍe gour se sun rahā thā zamānā,
tumhi so gaye dastān kahte kahte!

The world was listening very intently,
but you fell asleep while narrating the story!

*****

The world Vipassana family is increasing day by day, but my Dhamma brothers are dwindling in number. How many Dhamma brothers now remain who received the teaching directly from Sayagyi U Ba Khin? This Dhamma brother also carried out his mission:
"Anta samaya taka dharma ki, seva hoti jaya
Let me serve the Dhamma until my final moment."

I was extremely fortunate to have such a Dhamma brother.

The ideal that Dr Om Prakashji set for all Vipassana meditators and teachers will serve as a beacon in future. This inspiration will bring welfare to many, happiness to many. India will regain its ancient glory and dignity, leading to immense welfare for the entire world.

Incomparable Refreshing Tranquillity

Once, while on a Dhamma tour of North India, I stayed at Dr Om Prakashji’s residence in Delhi for two days. He gave us his own bedroom and slept in another room nearby. The morning after our arrival, I meditated together with him on the bed in his bedroom. Near the end of the one-hour sitting, suddenly an incomparable nibbānic cooling tranquillity emanated from him and spread throughout the room. On completion of the sitting he said with great humility, "Meditating with you today, I have become blessed. I experienced incomparable refreshing tranquillity." I replied, "You know best about your own experience, but after experiencing your nibbānic cooling tranquillity I have become truly blessed!"

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