
Why are such heavy prices demanded of exemplary lives? Today is the 150th birthday of a modern Hindu saint. Hark at her tale. One day, Shyamsundari, the wife of a poor but pious priest, Ramchandra Mukhopadhyay, made her way back from her father8217;s house to her married home at Jayrambati, a village by the Amodar stream, in the southeast corner of Bankura district, West Bengal. Resting under a tree in a wood, she heard the jingle of anklets and looked up. A little girl clambered down and tenderly hugged her. Shyamsundari fainted and remained unconscious for a long time. Her relatives took her home, and when she came to, she felt the little girl was curled up within her own body.
Sarada Devi was born on Thursday, December 22, 1853. Her father, too, had a portent of an unusual birth. Nodding off after lunch one day, he dreamt that a beautiful young girl wearing precious ornaments, hugged him affectionately. When he asked who she was, she said in a soft, musical voice, 8220;You see, I have come to your family.8221; Sarada was 8216;married8217; at the age of five to Ramakrishna, a 23-year-old from nearby Kamarpukur. At 18, his elder brother Ramkumar had taken him to Kolkata, where he was appointed Mother Kali8217;s priest at the famous Dakshineswar temple built by Rani Rashmoni. It is almost impossible for most people to relate to Sarada Devi8217;s trials, the denial of every normal womanly comfort: her husband8217;s enforced celibacy, the stuffy little room at Dakshineswar where she spent years and years of her life with a door so low that she banged her head each time she forgot to duck. If too many visitors thronged about, she could not even see her husband for up to two months, though his room was 75 feet south of hers. Conditioned by the Hindu ideal of all-sacrificing womanhood, she was happy listening humbly from afar to Ramakrishna8217;s bhajans.