At the time of his departure from the body, Shri Khemalaratnaji was fully alert by Prabhu's kripa. But tears flowed abundantly. His son Ramrayanji asked: "Please tell openly, what is the cause of your sorrow? If you command, we will perform any punya-dana. Immeasurable wealth lies stored."
The old man replied with his unfulfilled longing. Hearing those words, his sons and all others fell silent, understanding: this was his own calling, not ours.
But his grandson Shri Kishorsinghji stood up, folded his hands, and said: "If you give me the command, I will carry on both daily observances with great enthusiasm for as long as I live, by the kripa of Shri Hari."
Hearing the young man's loving pledge, Shri Khemalaratnaji rose and embraced him to his chest, attaining the greatest joy. Thereafter he departed from the body and attained Prabhu.
Shri Kishorji faithfully upheld that very commitment. Singing the glories of Shri Yugala-sarkara, his mind became saturated in prema, and he performed bhakti. At a young age itself, his heart overflowed with anurag. Seeing his condition, the assemblies of saints honored him with great regard.
Ramrayanji's love for Shri Hari, Shri Guru, and the bhaktas was genuine and filled with true priti. He held firmly in his heart the upadesa of noble persons. He embraced priti in the navadha and dashadha forms of bhakti, forgetting all karmic obligations. In the Achyuta-kula Vaishnava tradition, he considered prema alone as the supreme purushartha.
Servitude to the Shri Yugala-sarkara, ananyata, and generosity in the seva of saints: these three qualities were most dear also to his bhakti-filled wife. Once, Raja Ramrayan came to Shri Mathuraji with his dharma-patni and stayed for some days. Whatever money he had, he gave it all to sadhus and brahmanas. So generous was he that he kept nothing even for the journey home.
When they thought of returning, his wife's eye fell upon the bangles on her wrists. She took them off and said: "Sell these." They were worth five hundred rupees. He took them, came, and placed them on the lotus-hands of Shri Nabhaji.
Seeing this, that devoted wife was overjoyed. She called her husband and said: "You did exceedingly well. I am greatly pleased." Hearing this, he too was drenched in prema. Then, borrowing money, they returned home and sent that borrowed sum back to Shri Mathuraji.
In the Rathor clan of Shri Khemalaratnaji, the vine of aspiration bore the sweetest fruit. Such bhaktas were born in his lineage that they became the pinnacle-kalasha of the temple of bhakti. Their hearts, ripened through bhajana and bhavana, became as pure as the waters of the Ganga. Just as the ocean rises in delight upon seeing the full moon, so too they blossomed with ananda upon meeting bhagavad-dasas.
Bhakti Passes Through Generations Like Rain
The story of Khemalaratna and his son Ramrayan shows us that devotion is not a private inheritance. It flows outward. Ramrayan Ji was a raja, a man of rank and wealth, yet from his father he received not titles but the upadesa of noble souls, held firmly within the heart. He absorbed the teachings of navadha bhakti, the nine-fold path of devotion, not as stored knowledge but as a living grammar for his daily life. What we receive from those who walked before us is a seed. What we do with that seed, how carefully we tend the soil of our own hearts, determines whether the vine bears fruit for those who come after us. The Bhaktamal calls the lineage of Khemalaratna a "vine whose aspiration bore the sweetest fruit in bhakti-bhumi." Your own practice today is planting something for a generation you may never meet.
Bhaktamal, Chappe 121-122 (Khemalaratna / Ramrayan)
The Ornament That Serves the Saint Is the Only Ornament Worth Wearing
When Ramrayan Ji and his wife came to Mathura on pilgrimage, they gave every coin they carried to sadhus and brahmanas. When the time came to return home, they had nothing left, not even money for the road. His wife looked at her wrists and saw her gold bangles, worth five hundred rupees. Without hesitation she took them off and said: sell these. Ramrayan Ji carried them directly to Shri Nabhaji, the great poet-saint, and placed them upon his hands. His wife, seeing where they had gone, called her husband to her and said with joy: you did exceedingly well. She had given the bangles. Yet she did not claim the giving. She simply rejoiced in the rightness of where they had landed. This is what the tradition means by udarata, generosity that has no ego wrapped around it. The ornament that adorns a bhakta means nothing if a saint stands in need. Give without keeping score, and the giving becomes its own joy.
Bhaktamal, Tika 233 (Ramrayan Ji at Mathura)
Das-bhava: The Courage to Be a Servant
Ramrayan Ji was celebrated in the assemblies of saints for three qualities above all: das-bhava, the disposition of servitude; ananyata, undivided and exclusive devotion; and udarata, generosity toward the saints. Of these, das-bhava asks the most of us. To see oneself as a servant of the Lord, not a manager, not a negotiator, not someone who has earned special consideration, but simply a servant whose joy is to serve: this requires a particular courage. The world honors rank, achievement, and accumulation. Das-bhava asks you to lay all of that at the threshold and enter as someone whose only qualification is love. Ramrayan Ji was a raja. He had every reason to carry his station with him into the sabha of the devotees. Instead, the Bhaktamal tells us that what he was among the saints was exactly what he was in his palace: a servant of Shri Hari, nothing more, nothing less.
Bhaktamal, Chappe 120 and Vartika Tilak (Ramrayan Ji)
Unfulfilled Longings and What They Teach
When Shri Khemalaratnaji lay dying, those around him saw that he was weeping. His son Ramrayan Ji asked gently: tell us the cause of this sorrow. We have wealth in abundance. Whatever punya or dana you wish, we will do it. The old man then named his two unfulfilled longings. He had always wished to carry water for the Lord's abhisheka on his own head, a humble seva. And he had wished to tie ankle bells on his feet and dance before the Lord. The grandeur of royal life, its many honors and distractions, had deferred these simple acts until the body itself was departing. Here is the teaching: no external grandeur will ever fill the space of an unexpressed longing of the heart. Not all regrets can be undone. But Khemalaratna's tears were not wasted. They became the vow of his grandson Kishorsingh, who kept both observances without fail for the rest of his life. Even an unfulfilled longing, when spoken honestly, can become a gift to the one who hears it.
Bhaktamal, Tika 233 and Chappe 121 (Khemalaratna's departure)
A Vow Made in Love Cannot Be Broken
When Kishorsingh heard his grandfather Khemalaratna name his two unmet desires at the moment of death, the elders in the room fell silent. They understood: these were the old man's own longings, not anyone else's duty to fulfill. But young Kishorsingh rose, folded his hands, and said quietly: give me the command, and by the grace of Shri Hari I will carry on both these observances with great eagerness for as long as I live. Khemalaratna rose from his bed, drew the boy to his chest, and then departed from the body in peace. Kishorsingh kept the vow. He tied ankle bells on his feet and danced before Giridharji. He carried the water vessel on his head each day without missing once. Singing the glories of the Lord, his young heart became saturated with prema. The saints who witnessed his condition honored him deeply. A vow made in love, not in fear or obligation, carries within it the energy of its own fulfillment. It does not need to be forced. It only needs to be kept.
Bhaktamal, Chappe 121 (Kishorsingh's vow)
Hindi text from OCR scan (Khemraj Shrikrishnadas Prakashan, CC0). May contain errors.