At the end of an hour his hands trembled a little and he breathed once very deeply.
There was a silence for a minute or two, and again he breathed in the same manner. His
eyes became fixed in the centre of his eyebrows, his face assumed a divine expression,
and eternal silence fell.
'There was,' said a brother disciple of the Swami, 'a little blood in his nostrils, about his
mouth, and in his eyes.' According to the Yoga scriptures, the life-breath of an
illumined yogi passes out through the opening on the top of the head, causing the blood
to flow in the nostrils and the mouth.
The great ecstasy took place at ten minutes past nine. Swami Vivekananda passed
away at the age of thirty-nine years, five months, and twenty-four days, thus fulfilling
his own prophecy: 'I shall not live to be forty years old.'
The brother disciples thought that he might have fallen into samadhi, and chanted the
Master's name to bring back his consciousness. But he remained on his back
motionless.
Physicians were sent for and the body was thoroughly examined. In the doctor's
opinion life was only suspended; artificial respiration was tried. At midnight, however,
Swami Vivekananda was pronounced dead, the cause, according to medical science,
having been apoplexy or sudden failure of the heart. But the monks were convinced
that their leader had voluntarily cast off his body in samadhi, as predicted by Sri
Ramakrishna.
In the morning people poured in from all quarters. Nivedita sat by the body and fanned
it till it was brought down at 2 p.m. to the porch leading to the courtyard. It was
covered with ochre robes and decorated with flowers. Incense was burnt and a
religious service was performed with lights, conch-shells, and bells. The brother monks
and disciples took their final leave and the procession started, moving slowly through
the courtyard and across the lawn, till it reached the vilva tree near the spot where the
Swami himself had desired his body to be cremated.
The funeral pyre was built and the body was consigned to the flames kindled with
sandalwood. Across the Ganga, on the other bank, Ramakrishna had been cremated
sixteen years before.
Nivedita began to weep like a child, rolling on the ground. Suddenly the wind blew
into her lap a piece of the ochre robe from the pyre, and she received it as a blessing. It
was dusk when the flames subsided. The sacred relics were gathered and the pyre was
washed with the water of the Ganga. The place is now marked by a temple, the table of
the altar standing on the very spot where the Swami's body rested in the flames.
Gloom and desolation fell upon the monastery. The monks prayed in the depths of their
hearts: 'O Lord! Thy will be done!' But deep beneath their grief all felt that this was not
the end. The words of the leader, uttered long before his death, rang in their ears: