Matree Leela Pictorial biography of Holy Mother Illustrated from the Panels displayed in the Holy Mother's Exhibition at Ramakrishna Mission – New Delhi

RAMACHANDRA AND SHYAMASUNDARI Jayrambati is a small village in Bengal. Vast fields of paddy stretch round a few mud- houses with thatched roofs. Ponds and tanks dot the area, some of them blooming with lotus and lily. Amodar, a small, winding stream, flows by on the north. A poor Brahmin named Ramachandra Mukherjee lived here nearly a century and a half ago. He was virtuous and kind-hearted, and lived a simple life. Smoking his ‘Hookah’, he would be sitting in the verandah of his house ad would invite passers-by to have a smoke. His wife Shyamasundari was like him simple and kind. Everything she did was done neatly and tidily. She would enjoy looking after and feeding people and would go out of her way to help anyone in distress. They yearned for a child, and they had not long to wait.

VISIONS OF RAMACHANDRA AND SHYAMASUNDARI Life in Jayrambati was quiet and peaceful. The day passed joyously; farmers’ boys worked and whistled in the fields; birds of various kinds flew in and flew out with each season. Once Ramachandra went on a visit to Calcutta, the big city seventy miles away. There he had a dream. He dreamt that radiant little girl of golden complexion was clasping his neck. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. She replied: ‘Well, you see, I have come into your family.’ Ramachandra returned to Jayrambati musing about his dream. On his return he told Shyama about it. She was surprised, for she too had had a vision. She described it thus: ‘One day, as I was going to the river, I sat down under that big tree yonder. Suddenly, I was a charming little girl coming down from the tree. I was frightened at first, but she was full of angelic beauty and clasped my neck with her tender arms. I lost consciousness, and people carried me home. I feel she has entered my body.’ The incidents made them feel that they would soon be blessed with a child.

SARADA IS BORN It was the harvest season. The fields were golden with ripened paddy. Labourers were busy reaping and threshing, while women boiled and dried the grain in the mellow winter sun. The countryside put on a festive look. Men and women forgot their miseries, and looked forward to at least a few months of carefree life. On 22nd December 1853 there was great rejoicing at Ramachandra’a house; for on that day Shyamasundari gave birth to a daughter. The child was first named Thakurmani, but later came to be called Saradamani.

SRI RAMAKRISHNA, THE FUTURE HUSBAND Three miles from Jayrambati is Kamarpukur, where Sri Ramakrishna was born. He was a saint filled with such an extraordinary love of God that people said he was mad. As a young man, he lived in a Kali temple at Dakshineswar, a suburb of Calcutta. Day and night his only thought was of the Divine Mother. His mother and brothers at Kamarpukur became worried about him and called him back. It was at this time that he happened to attend a Jatra (village drama) at Sihore, a village three miles form Jayrambati. In such plays the stage is in the center and there is no backdrop; the actors come in from the green-room through the spectators. Everyone was watching the play intently. The women of Sarada’s family were sitting there too, one of them holding in her lap Sarada, then two years old. One of the women merrily asked: ‘Child, when you grow up, whom will you marry?’ The child unhesitatingly pointed her tiny fingers at Ramakrishna, sitting in the crowd. The women had a hearty laugh and exclaimed, ‘Oh, you are going to marry that mad boy!’ They little thought it would come true after all!

COMPASSION FOR THE POOR Sarada’s parents were not rich, but they were happy and contented. She was a serious and active little girl, helping her mother cook and looking after her little sister and brother. Sometimes she would take them along for a bath in the Amodar river. Once locusts destroyed the paddy in the fields. At this time of distress little Sarada would go from field to field and collect the grain. She was never tired. When farmers worked in the fields, she would carry puffed rice to them as refreshment. She was a busy little girl, full of compassion for the poor and ever ready to serve them.