The Autobiography of an Indian Monk

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The Autobiography of an Indian Monk by Shri Purohit Swami is a spiritual memoir chronicling the author's journey from a traditional Indian household to becoming a revered Hindu monk. The book details his inner quest for enlightenment, encounters with spiritual teachers, and reflections on the philosophies of Hinduism. Purohit Swami shares personal challenges, including the renunciation of family life, and his efforts to bridge Eastern spirituality with Western audiences. The work serves as an inspiring narrative of self-realization and spiritual devotion.

Shri Purohit Swami (1882-1941) was an Indian monk, spiritual teacher, and author. He renounced his early family life to pursue a spiritual path, becoming a disciple of Shri Bhagwan Maharaj. Known for translating Hindu scriptures like the Bhagavad Gita, he worked to introduce Eastern spirituality to Western audiences.

Dr. W. B. YEATS said he wanted from me a "concrete life, not an abstract philosophy"; here is the result. Had it not been for him, I do not think I would ever have persuaded myself to attempt this autobiography. If any readers find enlightenment in the following pages, let them join me in thanking the greatest living Irish poet.

Mr. T. Sturge Moore gave much time and labour to the clarifying and arranging of this book, and I thank him.

Sir Francis Younghusband, whose interest in Indian affairs is well known, kindly went through the manuscript and made some very valuable suggestions. I am indebted also to Mrs. Gwyneth Foden, the novelist and journalist, whose affinity with our spiritual life Indians have recognised, for she has secured a place in their hearts as though she were one of themselves to her I owe the title of this book; to Mr. Paul Brunton, who had gone to India in search of his soul's peace; to Mr. Durga Das of the Associated Press of India; Lady Elizabeth Pelham and Mrs. Margot Foster for their keen interest in my misson; and Mrs. Rennie Smith, who made the typed copy for me.

I WROTE an introduction to the beautiful Gitanjali of Tagore, and now, twenty years afterwards, draw at tention to a book that may prove of comparable importance. A little more than a year ago I met its author, but lately arrived in Europe, at Mr. Sturge Moore's house. He had been sent by his Master, or spiritual director, that he might interpret the religious life of India, but had no fixed plan. Perhaps he should publish his poems, perhaps, like Vivekananda, go to America. He had gone to Rome thinking it was but courteous to pay his respects to the Holy Father, but though the Abbots of the most orthodox Hindu shrines had given him their blessing, and "the organiser of the Bharat-Dharma Mahamandal .. a general letter of introduction", he was not received. Then he had come to England and called upon the Poet Laureate, who entertained him. He is a man of fifty, broken in health by the austerities of his religious life; he must have been a stalwart man and he is still handsome. He makes one think of some Catholic theologian who has lived in the best society, confessed people out of Henry James's novels, had some position at Court where he could engage the most absorbed attention without raising his voice, but that is only at first sight. He is something much simpler, more childlike and ancient. During lunch he and I, Sturge Moore, and an attaché from the Egyptian Legation, exceedingly well read in European literature, discussed his plans and ideas. The attaché, born into a Jewish family that had lived among Mohammedans for generations, seemed more Christian in his point of view than Moore or myself. Presently the attaché said: "Well, I suppose what matters is to do all the good one can." "By no means", said the monk. "If you have that object you may help some few people, but you will have a bankrupt soul.