Biography From
Pathways To Joy

Swami Vivekananda was born Narendranath Datta on January 12, 1863. The Datta family was wealthy and respectable, and renowned for their charity, education, and strong spirit of independence. Naren's grandfather was well versed in Persian and Sanskrit, and was skilled in law, but after the birth of his son, he renounced the world and became a monk. He was then only twenty-five years of age.

Naren’s father, Vishwanath Datta, was an attorney-at-law in the Calcutta High Court. He was proficient in English and Persian, and took great delight in reciting to his family the poems of the Persian poet Hafiz. He also enjoyed the study of the Bible, and of the Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit. Charitable to an extravagant degree in sympathy for the poor, Vishwanath had a rationalistic as well as progressive outlook in religious and social matters, owing perhaps to the influence of Western culture. Naren’s mother, Bhuvaneshwari Devi, was a deeply religious and accomplished lady, with a regal bearing.

In his early childhood, Naren had a great attraction for spiritual matters, and would play at worshiping or meditating on the images of Rama-Sita, Shiva, and others. The revered spiritual stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, which his mother taught him, left an indelible impression on his mind. Traits such as courage, sympathy for the poor, and attraction towards wandering monks appeared spontaneously in him. Yet even in childhood, Naren demanded convincing arguments for every proposition. With these qualities of head and heart, he grew into a vigorous youth.

As a youth, Naren’s leonine beauty was matched by his courage. He had the build of an athlete, a resonant voice, and a brilliant intellect. He distinguished himself in athletics and music, and among his colleagues he was the undisputed leader. At college he studied and absorbed Western thought, and this implanted a spirit of critical inquiry in his mind. His rational mind and sharp intellect were now at war with his inborn tendency towards spirituality and his respect for ancient religious traditions and beliefs. In this predicament, he tried to find inspiration in the Brahmo Samaj, the popular socio-religious movement of the time. The Brahmo Samaj believed in a formless God, denounced the worship of idols, and addressed itself to various forms of social reform. Naren also met prominent religious leaders, but could not get a convincing answer from them to his questions about the existence of God. This only accentuated his spiritual restlessness.

At this critical juncture, he remembered the words of one of his professors, who had mentioned that a saint lived at Dakshineswar, just outside Calcutta, who had experienced the ecstasy described by Wordsworth in his poem, The Excursion. Thus came about, in 1881, the historic meeting of these two great souls; Ramakrishna, the great prophet of modern India, and the future Vivekananda, the carrier of his message. Naren asked, "Sir, have you seen God?" Sri Ramakrishna answered his question in the affirmative, "Yes, I have seen Him just as I see you here, only more intensely." At last, here was one who could assure him from his own experience that God existed and could be realized. The disciple's training had begun.

While Sri Ramakrishna tested him in so many ways, Naren in turn tested Sri Ramakrishna in order to ascertain the truth of his spiritual assertions. Gradually, Naren surrendered himself to the Master. And Sri Ramakrishna, with infinite patience, calmed the rebellious spirit of his young disciple, and led him forth from doubt to certainty, and from anguish to spiritual bliss. But, more than Sri Ramakrishna's spiritual guidance and support, it was his love which conquered young Naren, love which the disciple reciprocated in full measure.

With Sri Ramakrishna's illness in 1885 came his removal from Dakshineswar to Cossipore for treatment; and so began Naren's final training under his Guru. It was a time remarkable for the intense spiritual fire which burned within him, and which expressed itself through various intense practices. Ramakrishna utilized the opportunity to bring his young disciples under the leadership of Naren. Three or four days before his passing, Sri Ramakrishna transmitted to Naren his own power, and told him, "By the force of the power transmitted by me, great things will be done by you."

After the passing away of the Master in August 1886, many of the young disciples gathered together in an old dilapidated house at Baranagore, under the leadership of Naren. Here, in the midst of a life of intense austerity and spiritual practices, the foundation of the Ramakrishna brotherhood was laid. It was during these days that Naren, along with many of his brother disciples, took the vow of sannyasa, renunciation. The days at Baranagore were full of great joy, study, and spiritual practices. But the call of the wandering life of the sannyasin was now felt by most of the monks. And Naren, too, towards the close of 1888, began to take temporary excursions away from the monastery.

The Wandering Monk

A remarkable change of outlook came over Naren between the end of 1888, when he first left on his temporary excursions, and 1890, when he parted from his brethren and traveled alone as an unknown mendicant. He began to assume various names in order to conceal his identity that he might be swallowed up in the immensity of India.

Now the natural desire of an Indian monk for a life of solitude gave way to the understanding that he was to fulfill a great destiny; that his was not the life of an ordinary monk struggling for personal salvation. In July 1890, under the influence of his burning desire to know India better and the appeal rising all around him from oppressed India, the Swami took leave of his brother monks with the firm resolve to cut himself free from all ties and to go into the solitude of the Himalayas. In the words of Romain Rolland, "This was the great departure. Like a diver he plunged into the Ocean of India and the Ocean of India covered his tracks." Among its countless people he was nothing more than one nameless monk in saffron robe among a thousand others. But the fires of genius burned in his eyes. He was a prince despite all disguise.

His wanderings took him to various places of pilgrimage and historical interest. Everywhere he went, the glory of ancient India vividly came before his eyes, whether political, cultural, or spiritual. In the midst of this great education, the abject misery of the Indian masses stood out before his mind. He moved from one princely State to another, everywhere trying to find ways to relieve the suffering of the poor. Thus he came to meet many leading personalities and rulers of the princely States. Among them was the Maharaja of Mysore, who gave him the financial support necessary to travel to the West to seek help for India, and to preach the eternal religion to the modern world.

Wherever he went, the terrible poverty and misery of the masses caused his soul to burn in agony. He had traveled through the whole of India, often on foot, for nearly three years, coming to know India first hand. Now he had reached the southern tip of India. The vast panorama of his experiences during his travels passed before his mind's eye. He meditated on the past, the present, and the future of India, on the causes of her downfall, and the means of her resurrection. He then made the momentous decision to go to the West to seek help for the poor of India, and thus gave shape to his life's mission.

With this decision, he journeyed on to Madras, where a group of young men were eagerly awaiting his arrival. To them he revealed his intention of visiting America to attend the Parliament of Religions that was being convened at Chicago. His young disciples forthwith raised a subscription for his passage. At this juncture, the Swami had a symbolic vision in which Sri Ramakrishna walked out into the sea and beckoned him to follow. This, coupled with the blessings of Sri Ramakrishna’s holy consort, Sri Sarada Devi, settled the question for him. His journey to America commenced on May 31, 1893.

On the World Stage

Swami Vivekananda traveled to America at the young age of 30, reaching Chicago in July of 1893. To his disappointment, he learned that the Parliament of Religions would not be held until September, and, worse, that no one could be a delegate without credentials! Resigning himself to the will of Providence, he went to Boston, where he was told it was less expensive to stay. On the train to Boston, he happened to become acquainted with Miss Katherine Sanborn, who invited him to be her guest in Boston. Through her he came to know Professor John Henry Wright of Harvard University, who gave him a letter of introduction to the Chairman of the Parliament of Religions. In the course of this letter, Dr. Wright said, "Here is a man who is more learned than all our learned professors put together."

The Swami returned to Chicago a couple of days before the opening of the Parliament of Religions, but found to his dismay that he had lost the address of the committee that was providing hospitality for the oriental delegates. After a night's rest in a boxcar in the railway freight yard, the Swami set out in the morning to find somebody who could help him out of this difficulty. But help for a dark-skinned Indian man in 1893 America was not readily available. Exhausted by a fruitless search, he sat down on the roadside, resigning himself once again to the divine will. Suddenly, a lady of regal appearance emerged from a fashionable house across the street, approached him, and offered him help. This was Mrs. George W. Hale, whose house was to become the permanent address of the Swami while in the United States, for the Hale family became his devoted followers.

The Parliament of Religions opened in September of 1893. The spacious hall of the Art Institute was packed with thousands of people representing the best culture of the country. On the platform every organized religion from all corners of the world had its representative. The Swami had never addressed such a huge and distinguished gathering. When his turn came, he mentally bowed down to Sarasvati, the goddess of learning, and then began his address with the words, "Sisters and Brothers of America." Immediately there was thunderous applause from the vast audience, and it lasted for a full two minutes. The appeal of his simple words of burning sincerity, his great personality, and his bright countenance were so great that the next day the newspapers described him as the greatest figure in the Parliament of Religions. The simple monk with a begging bowl had become the man of the hour.

All the subsequent speeches of the Swami at the Parliament were listened to with great respect and appreciation. They all had one common theme –– universality. While all the delegates to the Parliament spoke of their own religion, the Swami spoke of a religion that was vast as the sky and deep as the ocean.

When the Parliament ended, the days of quiet had ended for the Swami. What followed were days of hectic lecturing in almost every part of the United States. Having signed a contract for a lecture tour with a bureau, the Swami had to be constantly on the move, speaking to all sorts of audiences. He lectured in most of the larger cities of the eastern, midwestern, and southern states, including Chicago, Iowa City, Des Moines, Memphis, Indianapolis, Minneapolis, Madison, Detroit, Hartford, Buffalo, Boston, Cambridge, Baltimore, Washington, Brooklyn, and New York.

Swami used the lecture tour to acquire funds in order to help relieve the suffering and poverty in India, as well as to bring to the West the ancient Indian wisdom of Vedanta and practices of Classical Yoga. He had decided to earn money for India only through his own labor, without appealing publicly for contributions. Of course, as a renunciate and monk, not a penny ever went to Vivekananda himself.

This first stay in America, which was to last more than three years, was packed with intense activity. Though the lecture tour provided him with opportunities of knowing the different aspects of Western life first hand, he wanted to form a group of earnest American disciples, and so he eventually left the lecture bureau and began classes, free of charge, for sincere students. Besides giving numerous lectures and classes in New York during this time, he founded the first Vedanta Society in America there. He also trained a group of close disciples at Thousand Island Park, wrote Raja Yoga, and paid two successful visits to England, where he gave the lectures which now form Jnana Yoga. The results of his work produced such an impression that he was offered the Chair of Eastern Philosophy at both Harvard University and Columbia University.

He had labored hard to give to the West his message of Vedanta as the universal principle basic to all religions, and his efforts had by now resulted in the establishment of the first center for Yoga work on a permanent basis in the United States. But his motherland was calling him, eager to receive his message, and so, at the end of 1896, he returned to India. Besides his American disciples, he left behind his brother disciples Saradananda and Abhedananda to carry on the work.

Triumphal Return

Swami Vivekananda left for India in December of 1896. The news of the Swami's return had already reached India, and people everywhere throughout the country were afire with enthusiasm to receive him. At Madras he delivered public lectures, every one of which was a clarion call to rise to build a new India. He emphasized that in India "the keynote of the whole music of the national life" was religion, a religion which preached the "spiritual oneness of the whole universe," and that when that religion was strengthened, everything else would take care of itself. He did not spare his criticism, however, castigating his countrymen for their blind adherence to old superstitions, for their caste prejudices, and so on.

From Madras the Swami traveled to Calcutta, and arrived there in February of 1897. His native city gave him a grand welcome, and here the Swami paid a touching tribute to his Master, Paramahamsa Ramakrishna:

If there has been anything achieved by me, if from my lips has ever fallen one word that has helped anyone in the world, I lay no claim to it; it was his. If this nation wants to rise, take my word for it, it will have to rally around his name.

To establish Ramakrishna’s work on a firm basis, Vivekananda, along with all the monastic and lay disciples, formed the Ramakrishna Mission in May of 1897. The aims and ideals of the Mission propounded by the Swami were purely spiritual and humanitarian. He had inaugurated the machinery for carrying out his ideas.

In January 1899, the monks moved to a new monastery, the now famous Belur Math. The Nivedita Girls' School had been inaugurated earlier. The Bengali monthly Udbodhan was also started at this time. And the Seviers, two of Vivekananda’s Western disciples, fulfilled the Swami's dream of having a monastery in the Himalayas by starting the Advaita Ashrama at Mayavati, Pithoragarh, in March 1899.

During this period, the Swami constantly inspired the sannyasins and brahmacharins at the Math towards a life of intense spirituality and service, for one's own emancipation and the good of one's fellow men –– Atmano mokshartham jagadhitaya cha, as he put it. But the Swami's health was failing. So his plan to revisit the West was welcomed by his brother monks in the hope that this would improve his health.

Across the World Again

Swami Vivekananda left India in June of 1899. After spending two weeks in London, he sailed for New York. Arriving there, he stayed at Ridgely Manor, on the Hudson River, until November, when he went to the West Coast.

The Swami traveled and lectured extensively on the West Coast until June of 1900. He compensated, as it were, for his omission of the West Coast during his earlier visit. His work during this period was of a tremendous magnitude and significance. Some of his most famous lectures were delivered during this period. Great enthusiasm was created in the cities of Los Angeles, San Francisco, Pasadena, Alameda and Oakland. The Swami's health had improved after the sea-voyage, and once again he poured out his soul in giving his great message to the American people.
Now the conviction that the East and the West ought to be mutually helpful and co-operate with each other grew stronger within him. The mere material brilliance of the West could not dazzle him, nor could the emphasis on spirituality in India hide her social and economic drawbacks. Now East and West must work hand in hand for the good of each other, without destroying the special characteristics of each. The West has much to learn from the East, and the East has much to learn from the West: in fact, the future has to be shaped by a proper fusion of the two ideals. Then there will be neither East nor West, but one humanity.

During this time, Swami founded the Vedanta Center of San Francisco, and the Shanti Ashrama in Northern California was opened. In spite of tremendous activity, the Swami was becoming more and more aware of the approaching end. In April of 1900, he wrote to one of his disciples: "My boat is nearing the calm harbor from which it is never more to be driven out."

In August of 1900, he arrived in Paris to participate in the Congress of the History of Religions. He left Paris in October, and went on to visit Hungary, Rumania, Serbia, Bulgaria, Constantinople, Athens, and Cairo. In Cairo, the Swami suddenly became restless to return home. He took the first available boat to India, and reached the Belur Math in December of 1900. It was a surprise to his brother monks and disciples, who greatly rejoiced at his return.

The Journey's End

Returning to Belur Math, the Swami tried to lead a carefree life at the monastery. He would roam about the Math grounds, sometimes clad only in his loin-cloth; or he would supervise the cooking; or he would sit with the monks singing devotional songs. Sometimes he would be seen imparting spiritual instruction to visitors, at other times engaged in serious study in his room or explaining to the members of the Math the intricate passages of the scriptures.

Towards the end of 1901, he went to Varanasi, where he was delighted to see how some young men, inspired by his call to service, had started nursing the poor and the needy. Their work formed the nucleus of the future Ramakrishna Mission Home of Service.

The Swami knew his end was nearing. All his actions during the last days were deliberate. He said that smaller plants cannot grow under the shade of a big tree. On July 4, 1902, he meditated from 8 to 11 in the morning. In the afternoon, he went out for a walk, and in the evening, he retired to his room and spent an hour in meditation. Then he lay down quietly, and, after some time, took two deep breaths and passed into eternal rest. His followers lived to see the truth of the words he uttered not long before about his future: "It may be that I shall find it good to get outside my body –– to cast it off like a worn-out garment. But I shall not cease to work. I shall inspire men everywhere, until the world shall know that it is one with God."