{FN40-4} Mental training through certain concentration
techniques has produced in each Indian generation
men of prodigious memory. Sir T. Vijayaraghavachari,
in the Hindustantimes, has described the
tests put to the modern professional “memory
men” of Madras. “These men,”
he wrote, “were unusually learned in Sanskrit
literature. Seated in the midst of a large audience,
they were equal to the tests that several members
of the audience simultaneously put them to. The
test would be like this: one person would start
ringing a bell, the number of rings having to be counted
by the ’memory man.’ A second person
would dictate from a paper a long exercise in arithmetic,
involving addition, subtraction, multiplication, and
division. A third would go on reciting from the
ramayana or the mahabharata a long series
of poems, which had to be reproduced; a fourth would
set problems in versification which required the composition
of verses in proper meter on a given subject, each
line to end in a specified word, a fifth man would
carry on with a sixth a theological disputation, the
exact language of which had to be quoted in the precise
order in which the disputants conducted it, and a
seventh man was all the while turning a wheel, the
number of revolutions of which had to be counted.
The memory expert had simultaneously to do all these
feats purely by mental processes, as he was allowed
no paper and pencil. The strain on the faculties
must have been terrific. Ordinarily men in unconscious
envy are apt to depreciate such efforts by affecting
to believe that they involve only the exercise of
the lower functionings of the brain. It is not,
however, a pure question of memory. The greater
factor is the immense concentration of mind.”
CHAPTER: 41
AN IDYL IN SOUTH INDIA
“You are the first Westerner, Dick, ever to
enter that shrine. Many others have tried in
vain.”
At my words Mr. Wright looked startled, then pleased.
We had just left the beautiful Chamundi Temple in
the hills overlooking Mysore in southern India.
There we had bowed before the gold and silver altars
of the Goddess Chamundi, patron deity of the family
of the reigning maharaja.
“As a souvenir of the unique honor,” Mr.
Wright said, carefully stowing away a few blessed
rose petals, “I will always preserve this flower,
sprinkled by the priest with rose water.”
My companion and I {FN41-1} were spending the month
of November, 1935, as guests of the State of Mysore.
The Maharaja, H.H. Sri Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV,
is a model prince with intelligent devotion to his
people. A pious Hindu, the Maharaja has empowered
a Mohammedan, the able Mirza Ismail, as his Dewan or
Premier. Popular representation is given to the
seven million inhabitants of Mysore in both an Assembly
and a Legislative Council.
Copyrights
Autobiography of a Yogi from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
