the process of embracing sallekhana . He asked Prayogamati if she was sure, and she said yes. When he learned that she would anyway probably not have very long to live, he gave his assent.
‘Throughout 2004, Prayogamati began gradually reducing her food. One by one, she gave up all the vegetables she used to eat. She began eating nothing at all on several days of the week. For eighteen months she ate less and less. Normally sallekhana is very peaceful but for Prayogamati, because of her illness, her end was full of pain.
‘My job was to feed her, and look after her and read the prescribed texts and mantras. I was also there to talk to her and give her courage and companionship. I stayed with her twenty-fours hours a day, and took the leadership of her samadhi. Throughout she tolerated everything, all the pain and discomfort, and stayed completely calm – such calmness you can hardly imagine! I always enjoyed her company, and always learned from her, but never more than towards the end. She showed how it is possible to keep quiet and smilingly show acceptance no matter how much you are suffering. Such a person will not be born again.
‘By September 2005 she was bedridden, and I remained continually by her side for three months, until the beginning of December. By this stage she was eating only five things: pomegranate juice, milk, rice, mung dal and sugar. Every day she would eat a little less. In the last weeks she was given protein injections by a Jain doctor, but she was very weak. She had to summon all her strength to perform the observations that have to be followed during sallekhana . Despite not eating, and hardly drinking, her body had somehow swelled up because of the disease, and she continued to lose a lot of blood every time she performed her ablutions. At the end, she was also running a terrible fever of 105 degrees, and was covered in sweat. In the afternoon she would feel cold; in the evening she would burn. I asked the doctors, what is the reason for this? They did some tests and said that she had caught malaria as well. They gave her some injections, but it didn’t really help.
‘During these last days our guruji was not there – he had gone away for a function. So for the last days I was the only person she knew in that temple, though many munis were there to sing and chant and support her.
‘The next day the fever was still there. Again the doctor came, and she asked for some food, but she could not stand – in fact she could not even open her mouth. He advised her to drink half a glass of milk, and this she took. For some reason she wanted to clean her teeth, but she didn’t have the strength, and the doctor advised her to rest. She was very frustrated by this.
‘Just after 1.30 p.m. I went to take my food, and was just about to start eating when Prayogamati cried out loudly. I rushed to look after her – it was clear her condition was not good at all. There was no one around except a boy at the gate, so I sent him off for the doctor. When I came back, I held her hand and she whispered that she wanted to stop all remaining food. Her suffering was too much for her now. She said that for her death was as welcome as life, that there was a time to live and a time to die. “Now,” she said, “the time has come for me to be liberated from this body.”
‘By that time, our guruji had returned, and he gathered the community. By early afternoon all the gurus and matajis were there guiding her and sitting together around the bed. Others came to touch her feet. The room was full of people, and so was the veranda outside. Everyone was chanting the namokara mantra, singing bhajans and kirtans and reading the Jain texts which explain the nature of the soul. Everyone was there to support Prayogamati, to give her courage as she began to slip away.
‘Around 4 p.m., the doctor said he thought she was about to die, but she held on until 9 p.m. It was very peaceful in the end. It was dark by then, and
‘Throughout 2004, Prayogamati began gradually reducing her food. One by one, she gave up all the vegetables she used to eat. She began eating nothing at all on several days of the week. For eighteen months she ate less and less. Normally sallekhana is very peaceful but for Prayogamati, because of her illness, her end was full of pain.
‘My job was to feed her, and look after her and read the prescribed texts and mantras. I was also there to talk to her and give her courage and companionship. I stayed with her twenty-fours hours a day, and took the leadership of her samadhi. Throughout she tolerated everything, all the pain and discomfort, and stayed completely calm – such calmness you can hardly imagine! I always enjoyed her company, and always learned from her, but never more than towards the end. She showed how it is possible to keep quiet and smilingly show acceptance no matter how much you are suffering. Such a person will not be born again.
‘By September 2005 she was bedridden, and I remained continually by her side for three months, until the beginning of December. By this stage she was eating only five things: pomegranate juice, milk, rice, mung dal and sugar. Every day she would eat a little less. In the last weeks she was given protein injections by a Jain doctor, but she was very weak. She had to summon all her strength to perform the observations that have to be followed during sallekhana . Despite not eating, and hardly drinking, her body had somehow swelled up because of the disease, and she continued to lose a lot of blood every time she performed her ablutions. At the end, she was also running a terrible fever of 105 degrees, and was covered in sweat. In the afternoon she would feel cold; in the evening she would burn. I asked the doctors, what is the reason for this? They did some tests and said that she had caught malaria as well. They gave her some injections, but it didn’t really help.
‘During these last days our guruji was not there – he had gone away for a function. So for the last days I was the only person she knew in that temple, though many munis were there to sing and chant and support her.
‘The next day the fever was still there. Again the doctor came, and she asked for some food, but she could not stand – in fact she could not even open her mouth. He advised her to drink half a glass of milk, and this she took. For some reason she wanted to clean her teeth, but she didn’t have the strength, and the doctor advised her to rest. She was very frustrated by this.
‘Just after 1.30 p.m. I went to take my food, and was just about to start eating when Prayogamati cried out loudly. I rushed to look after her – it was clear her condition was not good at all. There was no one around except a boy at the gate, so I sent him off for the doctor. When I came back, I held her hand and she whispered that she wanted to stop all remaining food. Her suffering was too much for her now. She said that for her death was as welcome as life, that there was a time to live and a time to die. “Now,” she said, “the time has come for me to be liberated from this body.”
‘By that time, our guruji had returned, and he gathered the community. By early afternoon all the gurus and matajis were there guiding her and sitting together around the bed. Others came to touch her feet. The room was full of people, and so was the veranda outside. Everyone was chanting the namokara mantra, singing bhajans and kirtans and reading the Jain texts which explain the nature of the soul. Everyone was there to support Prayogamati, to give her courage as she began to slip away.
‘Around 4 p.m., the doctor said he thought she was about to die, but she held on until 9 p.m. It was very peaceful in the end. It was dark by then, and
Similar Books
