Reminiscences

by S. N. Goenka

In War-time, as in Peace-time, a Man of Integrity

_During the month of February, 1942, the invading Japanese Imperial Army had occupied Rangoon and were advancing towards Mandalay in central Burma. The Japanese Air Force started an aerial bombardment of the city, in which the railway station was destroyed.

At this time Sayagyi was stationed in Mandalay as Accounts Officer of the railways, with responsibility for whatever funds were kept in cash. After the bombardment was over, he went to the ruined station, searched through the debris, and found still intact the iron safe in which the cash was kept. Having the key with him, he opened the safe and removed the cash contents - a substantial sum of money.

Now what to do with this money? U Ba Khin was at a loss. The British authorities had already fled in retreat from the fast-approaching Japanese. Mandalay at that moment was a "no man's land" between the two armies - a city without any government. It would have been very easy for Sayagyi to take the money for himself, without anyone's being the wiser. After all, what right did the defeated, fleeing British colonial government have to this money? It could be construed as a patriotic action to deprive them of it. At the same time, Sayagyi had great need of money at that time, since his young daughter was seriously ill, and his expenses were therefore unusually heavy, severely taxing his means.

U Ba Khin, however, could not even conceive of misappropriating government funds for his own use. It was his duty, he decided, to hand over the cash to his superior officers even though they were fleeing from the country.

From Mandalay, the British had fled helter-skelter, in every direction. The railways officers had retreated first to Maymyo, in hopes of making their way from there to Nationalist China and thence by plane to India. Sayagyi did not know whether he would be able to catch up with them in their flight. Nevertheless, he had to make the attempt. He hired a jeep taxi and made the three-hour journey to Maymyo.

On his arrival, he found that the British were still in that city. He sought out his superior officer and handed over the cash to him, breathing a sigh of relief at having been able to discharge his duty.

Only then did Sayagyi ask, "And now, sir, may I receive my salary for this month, and my travelling expenses to here?"

This was U Ba Khin, a man of perfect integrity, of unbreakable s²la (morality), of Dhamma.

Dhamma Transforms a Government Department

By introducing the practice of Vipassana meditation to the officers and staff of the Burmese Accountant General's office, Sayagyi U Ba Khin had brought about remarkable improvements in that government department. The then Prime Minister, U Nu, was an honest man and wished the entire administration of the country to be similarly freed from corruption and inefficiency. At that time, one of the most important government offices, the State Agricultural Marketing Board, was in poor shape. This organization was responsible for purchasing paddy (a type of rice) - as well as other produce - from the farmers, and arranging for milling the rice and exporting the bulk of it.

In colonial times, the entire rice export business had been in the hands of British and Indian traders. After Burma's independence, the Board had taken over this function. Most of its officers and staff had little prior experience. Although the margin of profit in the trade was huge, somehow the Board suffered a chronic deficit. There was no proper system of accounting; inefficiency and corruption were rampant. The Board officials, in collusion with the rice millers and foreign buyers, were embezzling huge amounts of money from the state. Additionally, great losses occurred due to poor storage practices and inefficient loading and transport.

The Prime Minister set up a committee of inquiry headed by Sayagyi to thoroughly investigate the affairs of the Board. The report of this committee unflinchingly exposed the entire net of corruption and inefficiency. Determined to take strong action - even though it meant overriding the opposition of traders and some of the politicians of his own party who were involved in the corruption - the Prime Minister requested Sayagyi to take the post of Deputy Chairman of the Board. U Ba Khin, however, was hesitant to undertake the responsibility of reforming the Board unless he could have clear authority to undertake any necessary measures. Understanding the problem, the Prime Minister instead appointed Sayagyi to chairmanship of the Marketing Board, a cabinet-level position normally held by the Minister of Commerce. It was generally known that this position afforded great political leverage - and now it was being given to an honest civil servant!

When the intended appointment was announced, the officers of the department became nervous that the man who had exposed their malpractices and inefficiencies was now to become their superior. They declared that they would go on strike if the appointment was confirmed. The Prime Minister replied that he would not reconsider, since he knew that only U Ba Khin could undertake the job. In retaliation, the officers carried out their threat. So it was that Sayagyi took up his appointment in an office where the executive staff was striking while the clerical and blue collar workers continued to work as usual.

Sayagyi remained firm despite the unreasonable demands of the strikers. He continued the work of administration with just the clerical staff. After several weeks, the strikers, realizing that Sayagyi was not going to submit to their pressure, capitulated unconditionally and returned to their posts.

Having established his authority, Sayagyi now began, with great love and compassion, to change the entire atmosphere of the Board and its workings. Many of the officers actually joined courses of Vipassana under his guidance. In the two years that Sayagyi held the Chairmanship, the Board attained record levels in export and profit; efficiency in minimizing losses reached an all-time high.

It was common practice for the officers and even the Chairman of the Marketing Board to amass fortunes in various illegal ways during their terms of office. But U Ba Khin could never indulge in such practices. To forestall attempts to influence him, he refused to meet any traders or millers except on official business, and that too only in his office and not his residence.

On one occasion, a certain trader had submitted to the Board a tender for the supply of a huge quantity of gunny bags. According to the usual custom, he was prepared to supplement his tender with a private "contribution" to an important Board member. Wanting to assure his success, he decided to approach the Chairman himself. He arrived at Sayagyi's house, carrying with him a substantial sum of money as an offer. During the course of their conversation, when the first hint of bribery arose, Sayagyi was visibly shocked and did not hide his contempt for such proceedings. Caught in the act, the businessman hastened to emphasize that the money was not for Sayagyi himself but rather for his meditation centre. Making it clear that the meditation centre never accepted donations from non-meditators, Sayagyi ordered him out of the house, and told him he should be thankful that the police were not called into this.

As a matter of fact, already that very day the tender of this man, the lowest one submitted, had been accepted by the Board; but this decision had not yet been announced to the trader. Since all official requirements for this transaction had already been met, a bribe could be harmlessly accepted with no need to interfere with the interests of the state. In such circumstances, it would be commonplace for an official to just accept the gratuity "in the flow of the tide" (as such a situation was popularly referred to). Sayagyi might have easily accrued these material benefits, but doing so would have been totally against the moral integrity, s²la, of such a Dhamma person.

In fact, to thoroughly discourage any attempt to influence him, Sayagyi let it be known that he would not accept even small personal gifts, despite the common practice of such exchanges. Once on his birthday, a subordinate left a gift at Sayagyi's house when he was not at home: a silk longyi (article of clothing). Next day, Sayagyi brought the present to the office. At the end of the working day, he called a staff meeting. To the mortification of the staff member who had left it for him, Sayagyi berated him publicly for so blatantly disregarding his explicit orders. He then put the longyi up for auction, and gave the proceeds to the staff welfare fund. On another occasion, he took similar action on being given a basket of fruit, so careful was he not to allow anyone to try to influence him by bribes whether large or small.

Such was U Ba Khin - a man of principles so strong that nothing could cause him to waver. His determination to establish an example of how an honest official works brought him up against many of the practices common at the time in the administration. Yet for him the perfection of s²la and his commitment to Dhamma were surpassed by no other consideration.

Soft as a Rose Petal, Hard as a Diamond

A saintly person, who is full of love and compassion, has a heart that is soft, like the petal of a rose. But when it comes to his duty, he becomes hard like a diamond. Both of these qualities manifested in Sayagyi's life from time to time. A few of the many incidents illustrating this are included here.

On 4 January, 1948, Burma became independent. Unfortunately, the newly-formed national government had to face an immediate crisis. Throughout the country, followers of different ideologies were challenging the government. The insurgents had no scarcity of arms and ammunition, because during the Second World War not only the Japanese, but the Allies also had freely distributed arms and ammunition to attract the Burmese youth towards their fold.

The rebels started fighting on so many fronts that it became impossible for the newly-formed national army to handle the crisis. The situation threatened the ability of the new government to peacefully administer the country. Soon the insurgents gained the upper hand, and were masters of the situation. They had different causes and slogans: some were communists, some socialists, some provincial secessionist groups. A chaotic situation prevailed throughout Burma, as the different groups with their different causes each occupied and ruled a different territory.

A time came when the federal government of Burma was in fact only the government of the city of Rangoon. Soon even this nucleus of control was imperiled when one group of rebels started knocking at the door of Rangoon itself. The insurgents occupied a village ten to twelve miles from the city. There was no rule of law anywhere in the country; the continued existence of the federal government was hanging in the balance. If the government of Rangoon fell, then the existence of the Union of Burma would also disintegrate, as the whole country became divided up into competing factions.

The government was distressed, the army was distressed - but what could be done? There seemed to be no hope of a way out.

Sayagyi was deeply devoted to his country, and wished peace, harmony and prosperity for Burma, but what could he do? His strength was only Dhamma strength. So, at times he would go to the residence of the Prime Minister and give mett± (meditation of goodwill and compassion for all). At other times in his own home, he would generate deep mett± for the security of his country.

In a situation such as this, his heart was very soft, like the petal of a rose. But it became, on occasion, hard as a diamond. It so happened that during the same crisis, the government appealed to a neigh-bouring country for assistance. This friendly country agreed to come to Burma's aid in this emergency. But whatever items were to be given had to be transported by air. The government of Burma did not have adequate air transport. The airplanes required for the purpose would have to be procured outside the country. To succeed in this plan, the government made a hurried decision which did not fall within the framework of the country's laws.

At that time U Ba Khin was the Accountant General, and he declared the decision to be illegal. The government was now in a dilemma. The Prime Minister knew very well that Sayagyi was a man of principle, that he would not compromise where principles were concerned. (Sayagyi always asserted: "I get my pay for one purpose only: to see that not a single penny of government funds should be used in a way which is contrary to the law. I am paid for this!")

The Prime Minister had great respect for Sayagyi's integrity, his adherence to duty. But the situation was very delicate. He therefore called Sayagyi for a private discussion, and told him: "We have to bring these provisions, and we must make an expenditure for the air transportation. Now, tell us how to do this in a legal way."

Sayagyi found a suitable solution, and the government followed his advice to save itself from using a wrong means for a right action.

The situation of national crisis continued, but one after another the rebels were overpowered by the national army. In most of the country except the remote mountainous areas, the rebels were defeated. The government then started giving more importance to social programmes for the improvement of the country. Thanks to the diligence of the Bhikkhu Saªgha in bringing reading and writing to the villages throughout Burma, there was never a problem of illiteracy in the country, except for a few hill tribes. Though there was a high rate of basic literacy, higher education was lacking in Burma.

The Prime Minister undertook to address this situation. In a large public gathering, he announced a scheme to implement adult education throughout the country. He authorized a large sum of money for this purpose to be given immediately to the ministry concerned.

Sayagyi was fully sympathetic to the virtues of the plan, but he determined that the amount specified did not fit into any section of the national budget. He therefore objected. The Prime Minister was placed in a very embarrassing situation, but U Ba Khin's objection was valid: according to law, the announced amount could not be directed to its proposed purpose.

Sayagyi's determination was accepted, but the announcement had already been made, and something had to be done. So the Prime Minister sought another solution. He called the officers of the Rangoon Racing Club and requested their cooperation in helping to implement the adult education programme. He suggested that they sponsor a special horse race with high entry fees; whatever money earned would be given as a donation to the noble cause. Who could refuse the Prime Minister's request? The Racing Club agreed, and all went according to plan. The Racing Club earned a huge amount from the special race.

Once again, a large public meeting was organized, and with great pomp and ceremony, a cheque containing a large amount was presented to the Prime Minister by the officials of the Racing Club. The Prime Minister, in turn, handed the cheque over to the minister concerned.

After this event, however, the case came before Sayagyi, and again he raised objections. The Prime Minister was nonplussed. It was, after all, a question of his prestige. Why was Sayagyi now stopping the payment of the cheque? - this is not the government's money; what right has he got to stop it? But Sayagyi pointed out that the income of the race course included a tax for the government. If the government tax was taken out, the rest could go towards supporting the adult education programme. The Prime Minister was speechless, but he smiled and accepted U Ba Khin's decision.

There are very few people who are free

from fear or favour, or who have a love

which is paternal, yet detached.

Just as Sayagyi was fearless in disposing his official responsibilities, so he was free from favouritism. The following incident is one amongst many incidents illustrating this trait.

In the Accountant General's department, one of the junior clerks was also one of Sayagyi's Vipassana students. This man was very humble, always willing to lend a helping hand. He was always very happy to serve Sayagyi, and Sayagyi had great paternal love for him. Even paternal love, however, could not become an obstacle to Sayagyi in his fulfilling his appointed duty.

It happened that at the end of the year it was time for staff promotions. The name at the top of the list prepared by the staff was the name of this junior assistant. He was next in line for rightful promotion because he had the greatest seniority in the department. If Sayagyi had wanted, he could easily have recommended this promotion, but he did not do so.

For him, promotion should not depend only on seniority. It should also take into consideration one's ability to work efficiently. The assistant, who had many other good qualities, was unfortunately lacking in this area. Sayagyi called him and lovingly explained that if he was able to pass a certain accountancy examination, he would get the promotion. The disciple accepted the advice of his teacher, and it took him two years to study and pass the examination. It was only then that Sayagyi granted the promotion.

As with fearlessness, lack of favour was one of Sayagyi's rare qualities. There are very few people who are free from fear or favour, or who have a love which is paternal, yet detached.

Soft as a rose petal, hard as a diamond. I feel fortunate to have learned Dhamma from such a teacher. I pay my respects, remembering these shining qualities of his.

Teacher of a Non-sectarian Path

One of the things which kept attracting me closer and closer to my teacher was his non-sectarian interpretation of Dhamma. The teaching of Buddha is so universal that people from different sects and communities can follow it and experience its benefits. I never found Sayagyi interested in converting people to the formal, organized Buddhist religion. Of course he himself was Buddhist by birth, and proud to be so. But for him the essence of Buddhism was Dhamma, and a true Buddhist was one who practised Dhamma. He was interested in helping people to establish themselves in Dhamma - that is, in s²la (morality), sam±dhi (concentration) and paññ± (wisdom); to show people how to convert themselves from misery to happiness. If someone who had undergone this conversion from impurity to purity then wished to call himself a Buddhist, Sayagyi was pleased; but the important point was the change which had come in the person's life, not merely the change in the name he called himself.

Sayagyi would even admonish enthusiasts who were eager to convert others to Buddhism, saying to them, "The only way to convert people is to become established oneself in Dhamma - in s²la, sam±dhi, paññ± - and to help others similarly to get established. When you yourselves are not established in s²la, sam±dhi, paññ±, what is the sense in your trying to convert others? You may call yourselves Buddhists but unless you practise s²la, sam±dhi, paññ±, to me you are not Buddhists. But if someone practises s²la, sam±dhi, paññ±, then even though he may not call himself a Buddhist, nevertheless he is a true follower of the teachings of the Buddha, whatever he may label himself.

One incident, illustrating this non-sectarian attitude, occurred when a staunch Christian came to take a course under Sayagyi. While the opening formalities were being explained, this man became frightened that he was being asked to convert from Christianity to Buddhism; and out of this groundless fear, he refused to take refuge in Buddha. "I can take refuge in Jesus Christ, but not in Buddha," he said. "Very well," replied Sayagyi smilingly, "Take refuge in Jesus Christ - but with the understanding that you are actually taking refuge in the qualities of Christ, in order to develop these very qualities in yourself." In this way the person began to work; and by the end of the course he realized that his initial objection had been unnecessary, that his fears of conversion had been without cause.

In the Midst of Power, a Man of Virtue and Simplicity

In Burma of Sayagyi's day, certain high government posts ensured comfort for the remainder of an appointee's life - not particularly due to the level of salary, but rather to the pervasive practice of padding all transactions with bribery. No one came out of these offices as a poor person. Sayagyi, however, entered his retirement with meagre life savings and no home of his own for his family, since they had lived in government housing all his career. Even though he had worked in as many as four government departments simultaneously, he had accepted only one salary - and, of course, avoided all illegal gains.

Wanting to build a house for his children, he asked me to help him arrange for the construction. As work on the house proceeded, we found that 10,000 rupees were lacking for completion. Where was Sayagyi to get this money? He would, of course, not ask for it. Since such a sum was so easy for me to give, I suggested this to him. But he refused, insisting that any money from a student is d±na (donation) and therefore to be put to proper Dhamma uses. Trying a different angle, I offered to lend him the money, thinking that later I could just tell him to disregard payment. He accepted my offer, and the house was completed.

However, each and every month thereafter, when his pension cheque arrived, he took not one paisa (penny) of it, but immediately passed the whole thing to me. This was so painful for me to accept. These 10,000 rupees meant so little to me, and here each month I had to receive my teacher's only income. Eventually 5,000 rupees remained to be paid.

During this time, my aunt (who had adopted me as her son and who had been a longtime student of Sayagyi's) was dying. She had made great progress in her seven years of meditation with Sayagyi, and he was quite fond of her. Now, it is a custom in the Eastern countries not only to care for one's parents during their lifetime, but also to remember them by making contributions in their name after death. So as I passed the last days with my adoptive mother, I asked her to tell me where she wished to give this d±na. She said, "Wherever you want," and I named several hospitals, charitable organizations, and so on. "And where else would you like to donate?" I asked. When she said that she wanted 5,000 rupees to go to Sayagyi himself, I was delighted. Here was the chance to be relieved of this terrible position of having to receive money from my teacher. Surely, I thought, Sayagyi would accept the d±na as a last wish of a devoted dying student and then be able to use it for repayment of the loan.

As it happened, a few days later Sayagyi was present at the time of her death; he knew that she had died peacefully and consciously, with awareness of anicca (impermanence) at the top of her head. He went around the centre telling everyone how her final minutes were filled with paññ±, with anicca. When I informed him of her volition to give him the 5,000 rupees he was delighted. "Look," he said, "she has given these 5,000 rupees as d±na" - and he began distributing it to this Dhamma cause and that Dhamma cause! I was so surprised to see my hopes ended.

Each month thereafter, as I received my teacher's pension cheque until, at last, the final payment, I was reminded of the high principles of this person who was such an example of moral rectitude in public office.

Having passed through the corridors of power, which were rampant with corruption, where fortunes were often easily amassed, here was a singular man of modest means who died with the wealth of his integrity fully intact.

My Teacher's Boundless Mett±

Sayagyi was the epitome of compassion and loving-kindness. Although deeply engrossed in official duties, he was full of enthusiasm for giving Dhamma service to the maximum number of people. He taught Dhamma to any person who approached him, even if it caused him much inconvenience. Sometimes he would hold a course for even one or two students, and would exert as much effort for them as for a larger number. His mind remained suffused in love for every student. They seemed like sons and daughters to him. Only three days before he passed away, he completed a course. And until the day before his demise, he was still teaching Dhamma.

He had immense love and compassion for all creatures. All creatures at his centre, even snakes and scorpions, were affected by his boundless mett±(loving-kindness). Every particle of the centre radiated with his love. He tended the trees and plants there with great compassion. It was because of his strong mett± that the fruits growing in that sacred piece of land came to have an exceptional sweetness and flavour. The flowers also had a distinctive hue and fragrance.

One year something unusual happened in Burma. A situation bordering on famine developed. This was a shock for a country like Burma, which had always produced an abundant harvest. Food production was diminished and the government had to introduce rice rationing. The people were deeply affected by this. At that time Sayagyi's compassion for his afflicted countrymen knew no bounds. Not only from his lips, but from every pore of his body seemed to resound the sentiment: "May the people be prosperous, may the ruler be virtuous!

Sometime later a famine also occurred in India, continuing for two years. Sayagyi's compassion was enlivened once again. In one corner of his centre he had arranged to have erected a model of the lofty peaks of the Himalayas. He was very fond of this reminder. He would meditate beside it every day, sending his goodwill to India with the wishes: "I cannot recall how many times I was born in India and remained in that snow-clad region for such a long time, developing my meditation. Today the people of that country are in distress. May peace and tranquillity come to them. May all abide in Dhamma!

He Wished to Return the Dhamma to India

Sayagyi had a strong belief in the prophecy that the Vipassana-Dhamma would arise once again 2,500 years after the time of Buddha, that it would appear again in India, and would spread from there around the world. He often used to say, The time clock of Vipassana has struck! Now it will go forth from Burma and spread afar. He himself was very eager to undertake the task of spreading Dhamma - that is, to come to India and start giving courses here, and then to travel to other countries in order to serve suffering people throughout the world. He often used to say, Burma owes a great debt to India which must be repaid; from there has come the jewel of the Dhamma. Today this jewel has been lost in India and is sorely needed. A large number of people in India with good p±ram²s (virtues) from the past would willingly accept the jewel of Vipassana. But despite his eagerness to go to teach Dhamma in India, he was unable to do so, since at that time it was extremely difficult for a Burmese citizen to get a passport for foreign travel.

During this period, an invitation came from Mah±thera Nandeshwar, head of the Maha Bodhi Society in Madras, inviting Sayagyi and his assistants to come to India and give a few Vipassana courses. This seemed to Sayagyi to be his hoped-for opportunity to go abroad for Dhamma service. Accordingly, he applied to the Burmese authorities for a passport.

The minister in charge was faced with a dilemma. The government policy was to issue passports to its citizens for only a limited number of reasons: if someone was planning to leave Burma and not return, or going to take up employment abroad; or, in case of extreme illness, if someone had to leave for medical treatment. Therefore he sent word through a high government official (who was also a disciple of Sayagyi) advising that, to satisfy government requirements Sayagyi should state one of these reasons. Further, it was advised that Sayagyi obtain a pro forma letter offering him such employment or else claiming that he needed medical care.

All this was merely to satisfy government formalities. Had he complied, Sayagyi would have been able to realize his long-standing dream of repaying Burma's debt to India and helping miserable people around the world. But my teacher could never compromise his s²la in such a way. He adamantly refused the proposal, saying that he could not teach Dhamma from a base which was false. He preferred to give up his much-cherished dream, rather than to abandon the fundamental principles by which he lived - the principles of Dhamma.

The Statue of Buddha

The traditional pagoda in Burma is a solid structure, used by devotees for paying respect and making offerings. But Sayagyi had no use for such a structure at his centre. His idea was to build a hollow pagoda, with cells inside built for meditation. In spite of some objections from traditional Buddhists, he had this done. He also felt no use for a statue of Buddha in the pagoda, as the meditators were not supposed to use the shape or form of Buddha as their object of meditation. The technique he taught was universal - observing the respiration and body sensations. Hence, for two years he ran the centre without a statue. But it was against the conventional practice to have a pagoda without a statue of Buddha, and opposition started mounting from traditional Buddhists, including some of his own companions in the Accountant General's office. Finally, he agreed to establish a Buddha-r³pa (statue of the Buddha) in one of the eight cells of the pagoda. However, the teaching was always kept universal. When anyone paid respect to the Buddha statue, he was asked to remember the qualities of Buddha for inspiration and to remember the Dhamma of anicca, dukkha (unsatisfactoriness) and anatt± (egolessness) while doing so. Dhamma always remained the main object of his teachings.

His Loving-kindness Supports Me

For a number of years Sayagyi was training me to undertake the great responsibility of a Dhamma Teacher, but I remained unaware of his true intention. I assumed that he requested my assistance merely as an interpreter to help with Indian students who might not clearly understand the meditation instructions given in Burmese. In fact, however, my teacher was preparing me for future responsibilities.

As part of this preparation, I accompanied him to Mandalay and Maymyo in Upper Burma, to give courses at temporary sites outside an established, sanctified meditation centre. In the future, for the courses in India, where there were no centres for Vipassana, such temporary sites would have to be used: schools, dhar±ms±las (rest houses), hotels, hostels and so forth - places without any Dhamma vibrations. Thus in this tour to Upper Burma, I was being given a preview of what I should soon have to face and deal with.

During these courses, Sayagyi suddenly asked me to give discourses to the Indian students in Hindi. This again was part of my training for the future task. Though well accustomed to giving public speeches, I felt rather hesitant to speak on Dhamma, especially in the presence of my teacher. Nevertheless, I did as requested.

Some time after this teaching tour to Upper Burma, a course started at the meditation centre in Rangoon, in which three young Indian students were participating. When Anapana was to be given, I went into the central room from which Dhamma was taught, and found my teacher lying down. To my surprise, he told me to give the Triple Refuge, Five Precepts, and Anapana to these students. And to encourage me and allay my feelings of nervousness, he said that I should not worry, as he would be present at the time. Despite my initial hesitation, I performed the duty assigned to me and my teacher was very pleased.

On the fourth day it was time for the giving of Vipassana, but to my great surprise, Sayagyi went to his room and told me to go ahead without him, as he could not be present. I felt quite nervous about giving Vipassana without the presence of my teacher. But again he encouraged me, saying that although he would not be there, his mett± would be present to help me and protect me. Strengthened and encouraged by his words, I gave Vipassana independently for the first time to these three students.

In the middle of the giving of Vipassana, suddenly one of the students started shaking violently. I was shocked to the depths for a few moments, and my first thought was to call for help from my teacher. But to do so would totally disrupt the atmosphere of giving Vipassana. I was in a quandary until I remembered the words of Sayagyi, his smiling face full of mett±, and the presence of Dhamma all around me. I understood that there was no need to call for his help; it was with me all the time. With the support of mett±, my mind became tranquil and composed; and in a few minutes the student calmed down. The first course in which I gave Vipassana proved successful.

Since then, whenever I give Dhamma to anyone, I feel the presence of my Dhamma father and his mett± vibrations, and I feel that I am just a humble representative of him, assisting to spread Dhamma to suffering beings everywhere, in fulfillment of his very wishes.

Do You Share Your Merits

The practice of Vipassana should not become a mechanical process, a rite or a ritual. One has to apply it in day-to-day life, keeping a balanced mind amidst all the vicissitudes. This was always strongly emphasized by my teacher and hence had a very strong impact on my mind.

When all my business concerns were suddenly nationalized and my industrial establishments were taken over by the Burmese government, Vipassana was of great help to me in maintaining equanimity. My teacher was pleased to see this.

One day he asked whether I was regularly sharing my merits with others after meditation. I replied in the affirmative. Then he asked me with whom I shared my merits. I replied that I shared them with my elders, and then with all those who have been responsible for helping to strengthen me in Dhamma directly or indirectly - including the ministers of Trade and Industry and the officials in the government, and all the others. He was extremely pleased to hear this.

I explained by saying, I am very intimate with some of the members of the Cabinet, and through them I am fully convinced that the government has not nationalized the trade and industry with malice towards anyone. They have done so as a policy which they feel will be good and beneficial for the whole nation. Hence, I too have no malice towards them. On the contrary, I am extremely grateful to them because they have relieved me from all the responsibilities of my trade and industries which kept me so busy all the time. Now I can devote most of my time to practising pariyatti (theoretical study) and paµipatti (practice) Dhamma which would otherwise have been impossible for me. My teacher said, S±dhu, s±dhu, s±dhu (well said, well said), and encouraged me to continue to share my merits with them, which I continue to do even today.