Chapter Nine
INNER VISIONS AND RUNNING TRAINS
Faqir Chand Meets the Tibetan Book of the Dead
One of the most remarkable aspects about the Tibetan Book of
the Dead (or, more accurately speaking, The Bardo Tho-
trol)[1] is the principle that whatever one perceives during
the dying process is ultimately illusory.
Experiences of seeing inner light, hearing wondrous melodies, and feeling
sensations of being out of the body, according to The Bardo
Thotrol, are but momentary reflections of one's own psycho-
logical condition. As such, they are not to be valued in and
of themselves, since they cannot by their nature reveal the
ultimate truth, but only--even if magnificently--obscure it.
The reason for this is simple, if profound: whatever
one sees in the dying process is a projection from one's own
self. Since this self/soul/ego in Buddhism is the root cause
of man's suffering, and not a real and permanent condition,
anything which reinforces, glamorizes, or even elevates its
status is misleading and generative of delusion. The key to
enlightenment in Mahayana Buddhism, unlike Christianity, is
not salvation of the soul, but rather its annihilation as a
continued sensation. Therefore, The Tibetan Book of the
Dead is a practical text on how to carry out the process of
death to its terminal apex: extermination of the individual
self. At first glance this may seem a bit extreme, espe-
cially to those steeped in Western religions which place a
higher value on personal immortality, but in light of
Buddha's teachings it is perfectly consistent with his phi-
losophy which views death--real death--in a very positive
light.
What is perhaps most intriguing about the Tibetan Book
of the Dead, at least from a scientific perspective, is its
thoroughly rational and skeptical character. Although the
text does instruct the neophyte to accept the clear void
light as one's own, it does not describe in precise terms
what that light is. Instead, it concentrates on what the
light is not. It is not anything which can be seen, heard,
touched or felt--even on a higher or more elevated plane of
awareness. It is, on the contrary, the suchness or context
or spectrum out of which all things operate, but in and of
itself cannot be grasped as any particular thing. Thus it is
always identified through negation (neti, neti; "not this,
not that") or through negative images: emptiness, void,
vacuity, etc. It is, if we can describe it at all, no-
thing.
The implications for the dying lama are clear: do not
accept whatever may arise in the intermediate stage just
after death, for each apparition betrays its real origin,
imputing a sense of reality and permanence upon something
which has neither. Realize, rather, that nirvana is the
source from which all visions arise and is therefore itself
not a vision. Or, put in more philosophical terms, truth is
the condition from which all conditions arise--itself not
being a secondary effect.
Surprisingly, one of the more lucid insights on the
philosophy of the Tibetan Book of the Dead comes from a
Hindu mystic, named Baba Faqir Chand, who apparently was not
familiar with the original Tibetan text or its English
translation. Although Faqir was not conversant with the
Bardo Thotrol, he was nevertheless steeped in its philosophy
as taught to him by his guru, Shiv Brat Lal of Gopiganj.
Faqir Chand, like his lama counterparts, spent much of his
life in meditation, attempting to consciously go through the
dying process in order to prepare himself for his final
exit. However, unlike others of his kind, Faqir left a
detailed account of his some seventy plus years of medita-
tion (ranging from 3 to 12 hours daily) which led up to his
enlightenment. The result is a richly detailed account
which provides a thorough understanding of how inner visions
and the like are projected in the intermediate stages
between life and death.
As the Bardo Thodol [sic] text makes very clear by
repeated assertions, none of all these deities or spir-
itual beings has any real individual existence any more
than have human beings. "It is quite sufficient for
thee (i.e., the deceased percipient) to know that these
apparitions are (the reflections of) thine own
thought-forms." They are merely the consciousness-
content visualized, by karmic agency, as apparitional
appearances in the Intermediate state--airy nothings
woven into dreams.
--Tibetan Book of the Dead[2]
Now, you see no Jesus Christ comes from without in
anybody's visions. No Rama, no Krishna, no Buddha, and
no Baba Faqir comes from without to anybody. The
visions are only because of the impressions and sugges-
tions that a disciple has already accepted in his mind.
These impressions and suggestions appear to him like a
dream. No body comes from without. This is the plain
truth.
--Baba Faqir Chand[3]
What strikes the reader almost immediately after read-
ing both the Bardo Thotrol and The Unknowing Sage is the
remarkable similarity between both texts. Whereas the Bardo
Thotrol is written mostly in second person and third person,
listing instructions for the departing soul, The Unknowing
Sage is in first person, presenting the reader with Faqir
Chand's frank autobiographical admissions about his medita-
tive life. Yet, in both texts the respective philosophies
coincide: 1) the illusory nature of religious visions; 2)
the limitations of knowledge, both rational and
transmundane; and 3) the principle that the ego/self/soul is
the real cause of man's unenlightened state.
How Faqir Chand came to this realization is an
interesting story in itself, especially for someone steeped
in the Radhasoami tradition. From a very early age, Faqir
was prone towards mystical experiences, oftentimes seeing
religious visions of Krishna and Rama, who would, we are
told, instruct Faqir on various aspects of his religious
life. Eventually, however, Faqir became so distraught in
his quest for God-Realization that he became hysterical and
stopped eating. As Faqir recollects:
Once I wept for twenty-four hours continuously for a
glimpse of the Lord. Doctors were called in. They
administered medicine to me. At about five o'clock in
the morning I saw in a vision the form of Maharishi
Shiv Brat Lal [Faqir's eventual guru]. He drew water
from a nearby well and helped me take a bath, and then
told me his address in Lahore. This experience con-
vinced me that God had incarnated Himself in the form
of Maharishi Shiv Brat Lal.[4]
Faqir's experience convinced him that Shiv Brat Lal was
an incarnation of the Lord. After ten months of correspon-
dence, Faqir received initiation from his preceptor into the
Radhasoami faith in 1905.[5] It was not until the end of
World War One, though, that Faqir received his first glimpse
of enlightenment. For prior to this time (1919), Faqir
accepted whatever inner sights and sounds he beheld in medi-
tation as true and objective. The turning point came after a
battle in Hamidia in Iraq. Working as an inspector for the
railway station, Faqir and his group came under heavy enemy
attack. Fearing for his life, Faqir prayed internally for
help from his guru, Shiv Brat Lal. Almost miraculously,
Shiv Brat Lal appeared to Faqir in his inner vision. As
Faqir recalls:
I too was shaken with the fear of death. In this very
moment of fear, the Holy Form of Hazur Data Dayal Ji
appeared before me and said, "Faqir, worry not, the
enemy has not come to attack but to take away their
dead. Let them do that. Don't waste your ammunition."
I sent for the Subedar Major and told him about the
appearance of my Guru and his directions concerning the
enemy. The Subedar Major followed the directions of my
Guru. The rebel Jawans came and carried away their
dead without attacking our positions. By six o'clock
in the morning, our airplanes came and they dropped the
necessary supplies. Our fears vanished. We gained
courage. We were safe.[6]
Though Faqir was overjoyed by this miracle, he did not
appreciate its full import until some three months later
when he realized that it was a projection of his own mind.
When Faqir asked Shiv Brat Lal about his appearance, the
guru said that he knew nothing whatsoever about it. More-
over, around the time Faqir saw the miraculous form of his
guru, Faqir's friends were also in danger and prayed to God.
But instead of Shiv Brat Lal appearing to them, Faqir
Chand's radiant form manifested and saved their lives. When
Faqir was informed about this incident he was "wonder
struck":
After about three months, the fighting came to an end
and the Jawans retired to their barracks. I returned
to Bagdad, where there were many satsangis. When they
learned of my arrival, they all came together to see
me. It was all very unexpected and a surprising scene
for me. I asked them, "Our Guru Maharaj is at Lahore.
I am not your Guru. Why do you worship me?" They
replied in unison, "On the battle field we were in
danger. Death lurked over our heads. You appeared
before us in those moments of danger and gave us direc-
tion for our safety. We followed your instructions and
thus were saved." I was wonder struck by this surpris-
ing explanation of theirs. I had no knowledge of their
trouble. I, myself, being in danger those days of com-
bat, had not even remembered them.[7]
Thus, it was through a series of remarkable events that
Faqir began to question the authenticity of his inner
visions. Instead of accepting whatever appeared to him dur-
ing his voyages out of the body Faqir doubted them and
attempted to find the source from which all such visions
arise. Faqir's adventures began to dovetail at this point
with the underlying philosophy of the Bardo Thotrol: "That
all phenomena are transitory, are illusionary, are unreal,
and non-existent save in the sangsaric mind perceiving them.
. . That in reality there are no such beings anywhere as
gods, or demons, or spirits, or sentient creatures--all
alike being phenomena dependent upon a cause. . . That this
cause is a yearning or a thirsting after sensation, after
the unstable sangsaric existence."[8]
Eventually, Faqir dismissed his visionary encounters as
nothing but subtle obstructions of maya. It was at this
point that Faqir's meditation took a new turn: instead of
enjoying the bliss of inner sights and sounds, Faqir turned
his attention to the source from which these manifestations
arose. And in so doing, Faqir no longer became attracted to
visions of Krishna, Rama, or even his guru, Shiv Brat Lal.
Comments Faqir:
O'Dayal's mother, whom you see within and whom you love
within is your own creation, your own child. You,
yourself, create the image of Shiv Brat Lal in your
center of Trikuti, while other devotees create ideals
such as Krishna, Rama, or other Gods at the same center
and enjoy their vision. Man is basically ignorant
about the reality. Mother Bhagyawati is not a lonely
example. I too suffered many hardships due to his very
ignorance.[9]
Faqir's insights, interestingly, tally with Book One of
the Tibetan Book of the Dead. As Evans-Wentz comments:
These Deities [manifestations of various gods and god-
dess in the intermediate plane] are in ourselves. They
are not something apart from us. . . In this esoteric
sense, the Lotus Order of Deities represent the deified
principles of the vocal functions of ourselves. . .
.[10]
In this new chapter in Faqir's spiritual quest, he
began to develop a dispassion for anything which arose in
his meditation--be it delightful or wrathful. Instead Faqir
began to query, "Who is it that sees the light? Who is it
that hears the sound?" In other words, what is it that
experiences this world and worlds beyond it? No doubt,
Faqir reasoned, it is consciousness. But what is that? won-
dered Faqir. The answer would haunt Faqir for the rest of
his life, for he realized that no matter what spiritual
practices he may do he would never know. It was simply
incomprehensible, a mystery without limitation. To Faqir the
haunting aspect about this discovery was that no human being
(not even avatars, saints, or gurus), he surmised, could
possibly know. Indeed, it was this very unknowability which
constituted man's enlightenment, or so Faqir intuited.
Argues Faqir:
I do not proclaim that whatever I say is correct or
final. Whatever I say is the conclusion of my experi-
ence of life. Nature is unfathomable. No one has known
it. A small germ in a body cannot know the whole body.
Similarly (a) human being is like a small germ in a
vast Creation. How can he claim to have known the
entire creation? Those who say that they have known
are wrong. No one can describe or even know the entire
creation. Up to a certain extent to which man's mind
has access, one can say something. But nobody can tell
about the entire universe. It is indescribable.
Paradoxically buoyed by this intuition, Faqir began to
immerse himself more and more into the clear void light,
forgetting himself and his quest in the process. Although
Faqir's extraordinary excursions took place while he was
still alive, and not in a near-death state, his experiences
reinforce the general philosophy of the Bardo Thotrol about
liberation.
O Son of noble family, (name), listen. Now the pure
luminosity of the dharmata is shining before you;
recognize it. O son of noble family, at this moment
your state of mind is by nature pure emptiness, it does
not possess any nature whatever, neither substance or
quality such as colour, but it is pure emptiness; this
is the dharmata. . . This mind of yours is inseparable
luminosity and emptiness in the form of a great mass of
light, it has no birth or death, therefore it is the
Buddha of Immortal Light. To recognize this is all that
is necessary.[11]
What exactly this emptiness or luminosity is cannot, by
definition, be described. In the Tibetan Book of the Dead
the emphasis is on recognizing one's true nature, that which
is no-thing in particular but rather the field in which all
things arise--itself being visionless, though producing
visions; itself being structureless, though exhibiting
structure; itself being non-existent, though producing
existence. The clear void light is absolutely paradoxical,
since the "I" cannot grasp it, nor can the mind by its
subject/object dualism conceive it. Ken Wilber, a well
regarded transpersonal theorist and practicing Zen Buddhist,
describes it this way:
The Absolute is both the highest state of being and the
ground of being; it both the goal of evolution and the
ground of evolution, the highest stage of development
and the reality or suchness of all stages of develop-
ment; the highest of all conditions and the Condition
of all conditions; the highest rung in the ladder and
the wood out of which the ladder is made. Anything
less than that paradox generates either pantheistic
reductionism, on the one hand, or wild and radical
transcendentalism on the other. . . .[12]
Thus Faqir, following his Tibetan counterparts,
eschewed even the pure light and sound which was beyond
form, and attached himself to no-thing, allowing himself, as
he so astutely put it, to "hang on the gallows." But in so
doing, Faqir broke with Radhasoami tradition, which advo-
cates surat shabd yoga (lit., "uniting the soul with the
divine inner sound"), and eventually became regarded as a
"heretic."[13] Near the end of his life, Faqir grew closer
to the philosophical principles of Buddhism, particularly
Mahayana, as outlined in the Bardo Thotrol. Indeed, if one
were only to look at his later writings, one would come away
with the impression that Faqir came from a lineage of
Tibetan lamas. The following passage is particularly
relevant in this regard:
O' Faqir these satsangis have taught you the method of
hanging at the gallows. Only this experience of the
manifestation of my form at different places, of which
I am never aware, has changed my life. . . My experi-
ences prove that Yogi, Meditator, Guru, Disciple and
even the aspirant of salvation are in bondage. . .
These people who create my form with their mental
forces to fulfill their worldly desires are not
interested to know the Truth. They do not hang them-
selves on the gallows, because they depend on the sup-
port of my Form. Whereas to a man on the gallows there
is no support. This is the highest stage.[14]
It is precisely this letting go--both of the objects
which entice the mind and the mind itself--which constitutes
the final meditation in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. When
this is done, no rebirth is possible, since there is no one
left to reap experiences. But what happens to those who can-
not let go into the clear void light? What is their plight?
According to the Bardo Thotrol, such beings have a series of
lesser options, whereby they can take new births in higher
or lower dimensions of awareness. Regions upon regions
exist where departed beings are enjoying the fruits of their
karmic actions. Their fall, so to say, from the empty lumi-
nosity is due to one simple, but devastating mistake: they
took the apparitions, the lights, the colors, the sounds,
and the sensations of the intermediate plane to be real, and
not as projections of their own self-created karma. In a
phrase, they bought the dream as reality and were thus
duped. Concerning these beings, the Tibetan Book of the
Dead says:
O son of noble family, if you do not recognize them
[the various lights and apparitions] as your projec-
tions, whatever meditation practice you have done dur-
ing your life, you have not met with this teaching, the
coloured light will frighten you, the sounds will
bewilder you and the rays of light will terrify you.
If you do not understand this essential point of the
teachings you will not the recognize the sounds, lights
and rays, and so you will wander in samsara.[15]
Faqir Chand also reiterates the teachings of the Bardo
Thotrol on this issue of karmic propensities (the principle
that karma sways one away from the clear void light at
death, if one is not attached beforehand in the empty lumi-
nosity). Faqir's frank autobiographical admissions reveal
that even a sage as steeped in meditation as he could occa-
sionally fall from the truth and get caught in the whirlpool
of attachment. For instance, when Faqir Chand went to sleep
he usually attached himself to the light and sound within,
but occasionally would get caught up with dreams, falsely
believing that he was seeing his father, his son, his wife,
trains, and so on. As Faqir points out:
This night I had a dream in which I saw running trains.
An accident occurred; I carried my luggage; my father
(whom I was afraid of) met me ahead. Then I met my
mother; my first wife was also sitting there. I
inquired from my wife, "What about your wounded leg? Is
your leg now alright? Are you not my wife?" Meanwhile
I awoke and attuned my Self to the Shabd (Inner Sound
Current). . . All these deeds, thoughts and feelings
where selfish motives are involved shall positively
have their reaction upon the individual concerned,
either in the waking state or in sleep. Why do I say
so? This is my experience. Ever since the establish-
ment of Manavta Mandir I have never dreamed about it.
Why? Because my Self is neither attached to Mandir nor
to any of you. But why do my father, mother, wife and
railway trains appear time and again in my dreams?
Because my Self was attached to them.[16]
Faqir's observation of what occurs in the dream state
also holds true for what happens in the intermediate plane
after death, since both involve the same fundamental rule:
attachment creates repetition and thus the cycle of samsara
continues. Liberation, both in the Tibetan Book of the Dead
and in The Unknowing Sage, is non-attachment to anything or
anyone. Only then can the bubble or knot of self-existence
be undone.
When Faqir Chand was asked what would happen to him
after death, he frankly remarked, "I don't know." When
asked to elaborate, he proceeded to give a gist of his
entire philosophy of life; not surprisingly, as I have
attempted to point out in this paper, Faqir's outlook echoes
almost point by point The Tibetan Book of the Dead:
So what I have understood about Nam is that it is the
true knowledge of the feelings, visions, and images
that are seen within. This knowledge is that all the
creations of the waking, dreaming and deep sleep modes
of consciousness are nothing but samskaras (impressions
which are in truth unreal) that are produced by the
mind. What to speak about others, even I am not aware
of my own Self (in dreams). Who knows what may happen
to me at the time of death? I may enter the state of
unconsciousness, enter the state of dreams and see
railway trains. . . How can I make a claim about my
attainment of the Ultimate? The truth is that I know
nothing.[17]
Evans-Wentz, writing some forty years earlier than
Faqir, makes the following observation concerning the Bardo
Thotrol:
It is not necessary to suppose that all the dead in the
Intermediate State experience the same phenomena, any
more than all the living do in the human world, or in
dreams. . . As a man is taught, so he believes. . .
.[18]
In the end, Faqir's death was an untypical one. In
April of 1981 he installed his spiritual successor, Dr. I.C.
Sharma, at Manavta Mandir, Hoshiarpur, and then proceeded to
fly to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in the United States to
conduct his fifth world tour. He was ninety-five years old.
But just prior to departing from the Delhi airport, Faqir
was asked in a tape-recorded meeting by a long-time friend
and devotee when he would be coming back. Faqir, in an
unusually prophetic reply, responded: "When I come back, it
will be in black box." And so it was. Several weeks later in
a Pittsburgh hospital Faqir after undergoing a cardiac
arrest and suffering in a coma for several days died.[19]
Days later his body was sent back to India in a casket for
final cremation rights.
One can only wonder if the unknowing sage melted into
the empty luminosity or into the dream world of running
trains.
---
[1] I will be using two translations here for my ar-
ticle: Evans-Wentz's famous work, The Tibetan Book of
the Dead (New York: Causeway Books, 1973); and Frances-
ca Mantle's and Chogyam Trungpa's The Tibetan Book of
the Dead (Berkeley: Shambhala, 1975).
[2] Op. cit., pages 32-33.
[3] Op. cit., page 4
[4] Op. cit., page 22.
[5] For more on the Radhasoami tradition, see Radha
Swami Teachings by Lekh Raj Puri (Beas: Radha Soami
Foundation, 1967).
[6] Op. cit., page 26. Also see Lane's "The Himalayan
Connection" (Journal of Humanistic Psychology, Fall
1984) for more on the psychological implications of
Faqir's visionary experiences.
[7] Op. cit., page 26. It should be pointed out that
just prior to leaving to Iraq, Shiv Brat Lal informed
Faqir that the ultimate guru was within one's self, no-
where on the outside. In fact, during this meeting,
Shiv Brat Lal appointed Faqir as his spiritual succes-
sor, blessing his disciple with the following words:
"Faqir, you are yourself the Supreme Master of your
time. Start delivering spiritual discourses to the
seekers and initiate them into the path of Sant Mat. In
due course of time, your own satsangis [followers] will
prove to be your "True Guru," and it is through your
experiences with them that the desired secret of Sant
Mat will be revealed to you." [Op. cit., page 25.]
[8] Evans-Wentz, op. cit., page 66
[9] Op. cit., page 48.
nd healthy mind. But, as Lane
points out in his recent study The Politics of Guru
Successorship, gurus have a vested interest in preserv-
ing their territory; Faqir Chand, regardless of age,
was obviously a a threat to orthodox Radhasoami doc-
trines.
[14] Op. cit., page 50.
[15] Freemantle el al, op. cit., page 41.
[16] Op. cit., page 45.
[17] Op. cit., page 47.
[18] Evans-Wentz, op. cit., page 33.
[19] For more on Faqir's death, please refer to I.C.
Sharma's Hindi biography of Faqir Chand entitled Sidha
Satpurusha Faqir Baba.
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