SRI YUKTESWAR: AHMISA / NONVIOLENCE; When to Kill or Not Kill ~ Yogananda, AY

It was the gentle hour of dusk. My guru was matchlessly interpreting the ancient texts. At his feet, I was in perfect peace. A rude mosquito entered the idyl and competed for my attention. As it dug a poisonous “hypodermic needle” into my thigh, I automatically raised an avenging hand. Reprieve from impending execution! An opportune memory had come to me of Patanjali’s aphorism on ahimsa (harmlessness). [8]

[8] “In the presence of a man perfected in ahimsa (nonviolence), enmity [in any creature] does not arise.” — Yoga Sutras II:35.

“Why didn’t you finish the job?”
“Master! Do you advocate taking life?”
“No, but in your mind you had already struck the deathblow.”
“I don’t understand.”
“By ahimsa Patanjali meant removal of the desire to kill.” Sri Yukteswar had found my mental processes an open book. “This world is inconveniently arranged for a literal practice of ahimsa. Man may be compelled to exterminate harmful creatures. He is not under a similar compulsion to feel anger or animosity. All forms of life have an equal right to the air of maya. The saint who uncovers the secret of creation will be in harmony with Nature’s countless bewildering expressions. All men may understand this truth by overcoming the passion for destruction.”

“Guruji, should one offer himself a sacrifice rather than kill a wild beast?”
“No, man’s body is precious. It has the highest evolutionary value because of unique brain and spinal centers. These enable the advanced devotee fully to grasp and express the loftiest aspects of divinity. No lower form is so equipped. It is true that a man incurs the debt of a minor sin if he is forced to kill an animal or any other living thing. But the holy shastras teach that wanton loss of a human body is a serious transgression against the karmic law.”
I sighed in relief; scriptural reinforcement of one’s natural instincts is not always forthcoming.

Sri Yukteswar and the Cobra

Master, so far as I know, was never at close quarters with a leopard or a tiger. But a deadly cobra once confronted him, only to be conquered by his love. The encounter took place in Puri, where my guru had a seaside hermitage. Prafulla, a young disciple of Sri Yukteswar’s later years, was with Master on this occasion.
“We were seated outdoors near the ashram,” Prafulla told me. “A cobra appeared nearby, a four-foot length of sheer terror. Its hood was angrily expanded as it raced toward us. Master gave a welcoming chuckle, as though to a child. I was filled with consternation to see Sri Yukteswarji engage in a rhythmical clapping of hands.[9] He was entertaining the dread visitor! I remained completely quiet, inwardly ejaculating fervent prayers. The serpent, very close to Master, was now motionless, seemingly magnetized by his caressing attitude. The frightful hood gradually contracted; the snake slithered between Sri Yukteswarji’s feet and disappeared into the bushes.
“Why Master would move his hands and why the cobra would not strike them were inexplicable to me then,” Prafulla concluded. “I have since come to realize that our divine guru is beyond fear of hurt from any creature.”

[9] The cobra swiftly strikes at any moving object within its range. In most cases, complete immobility is one’s sole hope of safety. The cobra is much feared in India, where it causes annually about five thousand deaths.

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CHAPTER 12 Years in My Master’s Hermitage
Paramahansa Yogananda. Autobiography of a Yogi (pp. 174-175). Self-Realization Fellowship. Kindle ebook Edition.