BRAHAMANASPATI KSHETRAM- THE MOTHER AND SRI AUROBINDO

Brahamanaspati Kshetram – The Mother & Sri Aurobindo Centre.pdf

Brahamanaspati Kshetram – The Mother and Sri Aurobindo Centre

Rajan was born in Tindivanam in February 1980 and grew up in Pondicherry under the care of his grandmother. After losing his mother at the age of four and a half, his childhood was marked by hardship, including a period when he and his grandmother lived on the streets. During these difficult years, many people connected with the Sri Aurobindo Ashram showed him kindness and support. He often spent time at the Ashram Library, where the images of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo remained deeply impressed in his heart.

In 1991, Rajan came to Auroville, where he was given the opportunity to begin his education and rebuild his life. His childhood devotion to Ganesh gradually developed alongside a deeper connection with The Mother and Sri Aurobindo. A significant dream in 2003 brought him the clear realization that he had to start a centre dedicated to Their work and vision.

The Centre was named Brahmanaspati Kshetram, meaning “field of action for the power and expression of the divine soul.” Rajan felt that this meaning beautifully linked the Centre with the work of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo … and so, he therefore added “The Mother and Sri Aurobindo Centre” to its name.

On 29 March 2014, the centenary of the first meeting of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo, Rajan, Kasthuri, their daughter Sunrita and devotee friend Saravanan went for Darshan in Pondicherry. At 3 pm, the same hour at which The Mother and Sri Aurobindo had originally met, the four of them inaugurated Brahmanaspati Kshetram with a simple and beautiful silent meditation.

What began as a quiet meditation room became a Centre dedicated to aspiration, study, meditation and service to The Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Read the full story of the manifestation and journey of Brahmanaspati Kshetram:
https://auromaa.org/brahmanaspati-kshetram-a-quiet-seed

A Newcomer’s Encounter by Purvi Bhanot

Purvi Bhanot was born and raised in Kenya. Although living outside India, she grew up with a deep connection to The Mother and Sri Aurobindo through both sides of her family, whose roots lie in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. She came to Auroville in July 2025 with the aspiration of becoming an Aurovilian and now volunteers in the Matrimandir Gardens, where she sees gardening and landscape development as both her field of work and her path of inner growth, inspired by the teachings of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

I came to Auroville in July 2025 with the aspiration of becoming an Aurovilian.

Like many newcomers, I arrived carrying questions. I was searching for a place to belong, for a deeper understanding of the ideals that had drawn me here, and perhaps most importantly, for a living connection with the spirit that continues to animate Auroville.

I did not expect that one of my deepest impressions would come through a modest place in Edayanchavadi called Brahmanaspati Kshetram.

An Unexpected Meeting

I first met Rajan in October 2025 through my aunt, and cousin.

What began as a simple introduction gradually became something more.

At first it was difficult to identify exactly what I was responding to. It was not a building, nor a programme, nor even a particular conversation.

It was a feeling.

A warmth.

An atmosphere.

Over time I realised that my experience of Rajan and my experience of Brahmanaspati Kshetram were inseparable. Through him I found myself sensing something of the presence of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo—not through philosophy or explanation, but through the quiet sincerity with which daily life was approached.

Atmosphere

One day Rajan remarked:

“The atmosphere changes all along and around the Brahamanaspati Kshetram.”

The statement stayed with me.

The more time I spent there, the more I began to understand what he meant.

There were spaces that naturally encouraged silence. Corners that invited reflection. Areas where one instinctively lowered one’s voice.

The flowers seemed carefully placed.

The incense was never overwhelming, yet somehow always present.

Objects were looked after with affection rather than display.

Nothing felt grand. Everything felt cared for.

As a newcomer, I found myself slowly learning that atmosphere does not emerge by accident. It is built through countless acts of attention repeated over many years.

Care

As I got to know Rajan better, I gradually learned something of his own journey.

It was not an easy beginning.

There were periods during childhood when he and his grandmother lived on the streets of Pondicherry. Resources were scarce. Stability was uncertain.

Yet whenever he spoke of those years, what remained most vivid was not hardship.

It was care.

One story stayed with me.

As a child, he owned only a single set of clothes. Each day his grandmother would wash them. The following day he would wear them again.

There was no drama in the telling.

Yet that simple image seemed to capture something profound.

Love is not always expressed through grand gestures.

Sometimes it appears in repetition.

In showing up every day.

In doing what needs to be done. Again and again.

As Rajan’s life unfolded, others appeared who extended similar care.

Ashramites offered support.

Friends opened doors.

Teachers encouraged him.

Ursula played a significant role in bringing him to Auroville and supporting his education.

My aunt, became part of the wider story through her work connected with Sri Smriti and through the many quiet ways she has supported others over the years.

Listening to these stories, I was struck by a recurring pattern.

At each difficult moment, someone extended a hand.

Seeking

Life, however, rarely follows a straight path.

One chapter involved a misunderstanding surrounding a Ganesh Puja, which eventually led to a period of uncertainty and instability.

For many people, such moments become turning points.

The familiar structures that once provided certainty fall away, leaving only questions.

For Rajan, this led to a year spent frequently at the Samadhi.

Not searching for explanations. Not searching for solutions.

Simply searching. Listening.

Waiting.

Allowing something deeper to emerge.

It was a reminder that spiritual journeys are shaped not only by moments of inspiration but also by periods of uncertainty.

Daily Rhythm

If Rajan introduced me to the story of Brahmanaspati Kshetram, Kasthuri introduced me to the life that quietly sustains it.

I learned that Kasthuri came from one of the early integrated Auroville families. Over time she and Rajan built a life together centred around family, work, service, and a shared devotion to The Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Long before visitors began arriving, their home already contained a small space dedicated to The Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Family and friends would occasionally gather there on significant days.

Looking back, it seems fitting that something which began within the intimacy of a family home would eventually grow into a place where others also felt welcomed.

What strikes me most about Kasthuri is not any single achievement.

It is the sense of quiet continuity she brings to daily life.

One day she may be preparing her renowned masala chai.

Another day she may be making hair oil from scratch.

On another she may be tending the garden, welcoming visitors, caring for the family, or helping coordinate the countless small tasks that accompany everyday life.

Each morning she creates a kolam at the entrance.

By afternoon it may have been walked across.

By evening it may be fading.

The following morning she begins again.

There is something beautiful in that rhythm.

Not permanence.

Presence.

An Inward Smile

Throughout all of this, Kasthuri seems to carry what I can only describe as an inward smile.

There is warmth, but also humour.

One afternoon an important constitutional question arose within the household.

Their six-year-old son confidently declared that he was the boss of the family.

Rajan immediately disagreed and announced that he himself was the boss.

The matter was referred to the highest authority available.

Without looking up from preparing sambar for lunch, Kasthuri calmly delivered her verdict:

“am the boss of the house.” The discussion ended.

The rest of us were left laughing.

The story remains one of my favourite memories – not simply because it is amusing, but because it reveals something of the spirit of the family itself.

There is affection. There is humour.

There is room for everyone.

Spirit Of Education

There is one member of the household who, from time to time, offers observations that seem to belie her young years. Following a recent frisbee tournament, she quietly shared some thoughts about the experience.

There was no criticism in her voice, merely a natural tendency to observe and learn from what had taken place.

Listening to her, I found myself reminded of the spirit of education that The Mother and Sri Aurobindo envisaged – one in which life itself becomes an opportunity to observe, reflect and grow.

Belonging

As a newcomer, I often arrived at Brahmanaspati Kshetram expecting to learn something about a place.

Instead, I found myself learning about people.

A grandmother washing a single set of clothes.

Friends extending a hand when it was needed most.

A kolam appearing each morning at the entrance.

A family gathering around The Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Children debating who runs the household.

Tea being served. Flowers being arranged. Gardens being tended.

Taken individually, these may seem like small things.

Yet together they create something difficult to describe and impossible to manufacture.

They create atmosphere. They create belonging.