RAMANA SMRTI Sri Ramana Maharshi Birth Centenary Offering - Part 3
























RAMANA SMRTI
Sri Ramana Maharshi
Birth Centenary Offering
1980
SRI RAMANASRAMAM



SRI RAMANA’S BOYHOOD IN MADURAI
By N.R. Krishnamurti Aiyer
AFTER the passing away of their father Sundaram Iyer at
Tiruchuzhi, the boys Nagasami and Venkataraman (later to be
known as Ramana Maharshi) were brought up by their paternal
uncle Subbier residing at Chokkappa Naickan Street (now
known as Ramana Mandiram) in Madurai. The brothers, who
were robust and ardent sportsmen in their early teens, gathered
around themselves a circle of sturdy young friends among
whom M.S. Venkataraman, Suppiah Thevar and Narayanasami
were most prominent. All these three predeceased the Maharshi.
The writer of this article knew these persons in the early thirties,
and could get from them the following accounts of their personal
relations with the boy Ramana.
The following account was given by M.S. Venkataraman
who was a clerk in the Health Department of the District Board
in Madurai.
M.S. Venkataraman was then just about ten years old, too
young to participate fully in the outdoor adventures of the
company. Nevertheless he had his share in them. The members
of his family were co-tenants of the house with Subbier’s
family. Every night, when the whole house was silent in sleep,
Nagasami and Ramana whose beds were in a remote corner
of the house, would appropriately adjust their pillows and
cover them up with their bedsheets so that it would create the
impression of their presence in their beds. It was the duty of
little Venkataraman to bolt the door of the house when the
brothers went out at about 11 p.m., and to admit them on their
return at about 4 a.m.
Now let us turn our attention to Suppiah Thevar. At the time
the author saw Suppiah Thevar he was employed in a firewood
depot. He also conducted during the cool hours of the morning
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and evening a physical training school in which young men
had training in silambam in which Thevar was an adept.
Silambam is a sort of quarterstaff, a very hard bamboo stick of
about five feet, to be whirled about so that the wielder could
knock out any opponent who dared to come near. The stick
was an instrument of defence as well as of attack. Strength of
body and muscle was also developed by physical training in
the school. Suppiah Thevar was a master in this field.
The following account was obtained from Suppiah Thevar
who was himself an active participant in those activities.
The venue of the activities, fixed well in advance, would be
either the sandy river bed of the Vaigai or the Pillaiyarpaliam
Kanmoi (rain fed tank) close to Aruppukottai road, the outskirts
of Madurai city. Every member of the group would, while
passing the house of Ramana, leave a pebble at the door step.
Nagasami and Ramana, as leaders of the group, would be the
last to sally forth from the house after a check of the pebbles
showed that all their friends had gone to the place of the meeting.
There was rarely a defaulter. Ramana and his playmates had a
jolly time playing games on the sandy bed of the Vaigai river
or engaging in swimming contests in the Pillaiyarpaliam tank.
They would then return sufficiently early to their beds without
exciting the least suspicion of their absence from home.
The next account was obtained from Narayanasami. When
the author met him he was Librarian in the Town Hall of
Madurai, known as Victoria Edward hall.
Usually, the terrace of the house and the small room in
which the boy Venkataraman made his “Self-enquiry” were
vacant and rarely used by the families in the ground floor.
Here the youngsters played. One of the games they played
was what they called ‘throw-ball’. Young Ramana would roll
his body into something like a ball and the sturdy group of
youngsters would throw him from one player to another.
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Sometimes the human ball fell down when the player failed
to catch it. The wonder of it was that for all this rough tossing
and dropping, there was not the least scratch on the skin, let
alone any muscular sprain or bone fracture!
Narayanasami said that he used to see his friend sitting still
for long stretches of time in the small room on the first floor.
Narayanasami asked Ramana whether he could also do likewise.
Forthwith Ramana told his friend to squat on the floor with his
legs crossed (as in the semi-padmasana posture) and pressed a
pencil point midway between his eyebrows. Narayanasami lost
sense of body and world and sat still in a trance for more than
half an hour. When he came to himself he saw Ramana sitting,
with his face wreathed in smiles. Narayanasami said that he
failed when he tried to repeat the experience by himself.
Bhagavan’s Teaching in America
By Dennis Hartel
We young devotees in the West, striving and gasping for a
breath of air in the stormy sea of this world, have found not
only pure fresh air but a vessel to carry us to the shore of
immortality and truth, in the life and teachings of Bhagavan
Sri Ramana Maharshi.
To be deposited in what we consider to be HIS Ashrama in
the Western Hemisphere, to dedicate our lives to the ideal of the
Ashrama, and to have the warm friendship and support of those
who have no other ideal, no other goal but to realize the truth as
taught by Sri Bhagavan, is for us the greatest gift of grace in
which we find an incomparable wealth of inspiration and joy.
What more is there for us to do but to strive with all our strength
and might to realize the truth of our Master’s teachings. Then
only may we be worthy recipients of his grace. Then only may
we be called true devotees of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.
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BHAGAVAN RAMANA – THE SVARAAT
(SOVEREIGN OF THE SELF)
By K. Sivaraj and Smt. Vimala Sivaraj
IF Sri Bhagavan Ramakrishna ushered in the spiritualresurgence
of India in the last century, Sri Bhagavan Ramana helped establish
firmly man’s spiritual identity and the eternal truth of sanatana
dharma. His advent as a jnani was particularly timely for
twentieth century man, obsessed with his scientific and
technological progress and his crass materialism.
Having attained atmanusandhana at the tender age of 16,
a fatherless son being educated in an uncle’s house, he sought
out Arunachaleswara and with sublime vairagya, he lived on
and in the vicinity of the hill of the holy beacon, from 1896
till his Maha Nirvana in April, 1950. Out of infinite
compassion born of strength and Brahmic bliss, he revealed
the truth in an inimitable manner to all devotees. His very
active, open and lustrous life was one prolonged revelation
of the truth of the Upanishads. He wore only a loin cloth but
was a sovereign master (svaraat).
Witnessing the changes of body and mind,
Naught but the Self within him beholding,
Heedless of outer or inner and middle,
Blest indeed is he in the loin-cloth. 1
The core of his teachings consists in the fact that between
the luminous Self (or Pure Consciousness or Isvara) that we
truly are and the jada (insentient) body, a spurious ‘I’ or ego-self,
formless like a phantom, arises; our little self limited by the
body struts about in the world of nama and rupa. This ego-self
is an impostor and has only a shadow reality and if investigated
will flee. The elimination of this phantom which is the cause of
1 Kaupina Panchakam.
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all illusion, is the goal of all religions. When the little ‘I’ recedes
and ‘dies’, and ‘I-I’ current emerges and stands revealed, that
is the poornam or the plenitude, eternal and perfect. To be that
‘I-I’ is the aim and purpose of human life.
Ramana constantly urged that Self-realisation or jnana is
our true nature. Realisation consists only in giving up as unreal
what is unreal. There is nothing new to be sought or gained.
You are the Self always. The jiva, jagat and Isvara — all
three of them (the interrelationship amongst which has been
the subject of all religions) do not exist apart from ‘I’. Seek
your true Self and you shall know the truth. To the curious
who asked him about God, he would say, “Leave God alone.
Do you exist or not? Find out who you are”.
Bhagavan repeatedly emphasised that the Self-enquiry (Atma
Vichara) method is the only direct or infallible means to realise
the unconditioned, absolute Being that one really is. All other
kinds of sadhana presuppose the retention of the mind as the
instrument for carrying on the sadhana and without the mind,
they cannot be practised. If the sadhana itself assumes the
existence of limitations, how can it help one to transcend them?
The ego may take different and subtler forms at different stages
of one’s practice, for myriad are the hues of the veil of maya,
but is itself never destroyed. When King Janaka exclaimed,
“Now I have discovered the thief who has been ruining me all
along; he shall be dealt with summarily”, the King was really
referring to the ego or the mind.
The attempt to destroy the ego or the mind through
sadhanas other than Atma Vichara, is just like a thief turning
a policeman to catch the thief that is himself. Atma Vichara
alone can reveal the truth that neither the ego nor the mind
really exists, and enables one to realise the pure
undifferentiated Being. Yes, in vichara also a small portion
of the mind is used for the enquiry, but is like the pole used to
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stoke the embers in the funeral pyre, which eventually gets
consumed in the fire. Having realised the Self, nothing remains
to be known, because it is perfect bliss, it is the all.
Man is constantly seeking happiness, but does not realise
that it comes from within. What is required is to remove the
cause of misery which is not in the life without but in us as
the ego. We impose limitations on ourselves in the first
instance and then make a vain struggle to transcend them.
What happiness can be got from things extraneous to
ourselves? When we get it, how long will it last?
Bhagavan was a perfect guru who made no distinction
between one disciple and another. Many have actually
experienced a single look from him breaking through many
coverings or encrustations of their ego and have felt the radiant
Presence in the core of their being. His gaze was so powerful
that it churned the interior of the seeker beyond the latter’s
own comprehension. Silence, he would say, is more powerful
than the spoken word. And as Dakshinamurthi incarnate, he
could by a single gaze dissolve the doubts of his devotees.
The fetters of the heart are broken, all doubts are dissolved
and one’s works melt away when he that is both high and
low is seen. 2
Such is the direct result of his grace which is ever-flowing.
Bhagavan says, “What does it matter if one is a hundred or a
thousand miles away; IT ACTS”. The Sun is ever shedding
its lustre. Why should we see darkness? All we have to do is
to turn in the right direction.
Bhagavan never asked anyone to shun the world or give up
family responsibilities, as true sannyasa is in the mind and not
in the change of robes or location of the body. The mind alone
is the cause of bondage and liberation. Self-realisation is not
2 Mundakopanishad, 2-2-8.
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something to be sought in the distant future by the chosen few;
it is the goal of all sadhana and man’s ineluctable destiny. It is
near at hand, nay, here and now, for the earnest seeker.
While living on this earth we realise that;
Realising Him thus, one becomes immortal here;
He realises Brahman here; then the mortal
Becomes immortal, and attains Brahman here. 3
In the Ramana Gita, all aspects of human life and
endeavour are succinctly described and many abstruse topics
clarified. To sum up: the universe is nothing but the mind and
the mind is nothing but the Heart. Thus the entire story of the
Universe culminates in the Heart.
This is the Hridaya Vidya to be learnt by the new technique
of Atma Vichara. No doubt, such Self-enquiry is referred to
in older texts, but the technique of using it for removing the
upadhis or sense of separation and reaching the Centre of
Being, was taught by Bhagavan throughout his whole life,
coupled with the outpouring of his grace to evoke the actual
experience in his devotees.
He is the one God hidden in all beings and
pervading all things; He is the self within
of all creatures, the ordainer of all deeds, the
dweller in all beings, the witness, the knower,
the Alone, the One who is devoid of all qualities.4
He made no distinction of caste or creed, neither did he
regard animals and birds inferior to man; he did not
differentiate between different religions. The pure Self that
he was, his samadrishti is as exemplified in the Gita:
The knowers of the Self look with an equal eye on a
Brahmana endowed with learning and humility, a cow, an
elephant, a dog, and an outcaste.
3 Brihadaranyaka Upanishad
4 Svetasvatara Upanishad
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He used to decry his mother’s insistence on outer purity
and ideas of pollution; in his own life, many of his attendants
(how fortunate they were indeed!) were the so-called
untouchables and he treated them on an equal footing. His
teachings crossed the man made frontiers of denominations.
He assured everyone that their own religion, if properly
understood, would take them surely to the goal.
The jnani is in the permanent state of Pure Awareness
absolute, the state of jagrat-sushupti and his mind is like the
moon in the noon-day sky or like a burnt rope, a form to see
but none in reality.
As early as in 1902, answering a question by Sri
Sivaprakasam Pillai, Sri Bhagavan described the nature of
the Self with clarity and authority:
The Self is that when there is absolutely no ‘I’-thought.
That is called Silence The Self itself is the world; the Self
itself is ‘I’; the Self itself is God; all is Siva, the Self.
The quintessence of our vast Vedantic literature is enshrined
in this simple and direct sutra of Bhagavan. He has described
elsewhere how as one progresses with the Atma Vichara, the
frenzied thought-processes slowly subside and one reaches a
calm expanse of Consciousness which is the region of the
Self .5 It is not a void; it is the plenum or infinitude, a state of
vibrant Silence, in which all things are so to say like beads
strung on a thread.6
The old meditation hall where Bhagavan held his Chitsabha
is more hallowed than ever before and his grace is ever
available to the earnest seeker. It is open to anyone to visit
this shrine of eternal peace and glory and imbibe his vibrant
grace. Like the moth which seeks the light and is consumed
5 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, p. 256.
6 Bhagavad Gita, 7-7
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by it, we can lose our identification with the ego and the
phenomenal world and the sense of separation from him.
In this vast cosmic wheel in which all things live and rest
the soul flutters about as long as it thinks that it is different
from the Mover. But when it is blessed by Him then it
gains immortality. 7
Bhagavan, you allow every one to follow the path best
suited to him or her, for you know very well that they all
reach you at last, as all rivers flow finally into the sea!
7 Svetasvatara Upanishad, 1-5,
“Can a man ever understand God’s ways? I too think of
God sometimes as good and sometimes as bad. He has kept
us deluded by His great illusion. Sometimes He wakes us up
and sometimes He keeps us unconscious. One moment the
ignorance disappears, and the next moment is covers our mind.
If you throw a brickbat into a pond covered with moss, you
get a glimpse of the water. But a few moments later the moss
comes dancing back and covers the water. One is aware of
pleasure and pain, birth and death, disease and grief, as long
as one is identified with the body. All these belong to the
body alone, and not to the soul. . . Attaining Self-knowledge,
one looks on pleasure and pain, birth and death, as a dream”.
— Sri Ramakrishna
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RAMANA MAHARSHI AS
A VEDIC SEER
By Patrick Lebail
THE January 1968 issue of The Mountain Path included a
paper by Professor Abinash Chandra Bose under the title “The
Vedic Hymns”. It was and stays extremely interesting. I would
like to stress here how relevant it was for this paper to sound
a few chords of the Vedic symphony as an accompaniment to
Sri Bhagavan’s teachings.
A knowledge of the Vedas and of the Vedic path is certainly
not a prerequisite for understanding, loving and practising —
every one in his own way and according to his own abilities —
these teachings. They are of an universal nature and do appeal
to every spiritual seeker whatever may be his local culture. Sri
Ramana was quite conversant with the subtleties of Hindu
thought and put them to good use whenever he spoke to Hindus
(and to non-Hindus who had a knowledge of the Hindu dharma).
He did not need them for expressing deep, fundamental truths.
As a result, a Westerner is quite able to tread the path which he
delineated so clearly. Sri Bhagavan’s words fulfil the deepest
needs both of our intelligence and of our heart. It is however a
fact that Sri Bhagavan was a Hindu and his own experience as
he expounded it was the rediscovery of that ancient Hindu
experience. To be sure, these discoveries ring true for any human
being, whether Hindu or non-Hindu. It proves nevertheless
rewarding to understand how ancient they are and how much
their profundity bears the seal of a timeless revelation.
Strictly speaking, Veda means these collections of Vedic
hymns about which Professor Bose wrote. They expound the
subtle and variegated Vedic thought, which arises from the
Vedic vision of truth. It was the gift of a lineage of seers, the
rishis. These ancient thinkers and mystics had deciphered the
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riddle which the world proposes to keen minds. According to
them, the universe was ruled by an overall harmony which
originated from a universal law, itself rooted in basic truth.
Gods, the resplendent ones, were its guardians. These same
Gods were friends and helpers of man. Attempting to emulate
the divine splendour in power, joy and righteousness was the
right path for all men. God and men were exchanging strength
and food through rituals. Gods were the dynamic facets of
one nameless, fundamental deity, “That One”, which in turn
was seen, understood and sung by the rishis.
How was one to become a rishi? Just as, for instance, one
is born to be a major composer of music, one had to be born
with the ability to “see”; one had furthermore to undertake a
severe, ascetic training with great dedication. The rishi was
an ascetic and also a man of high literacy (the Vedic language
is much more complex than classical Sanskrit and most Vedic
poems are exquisite). He was a teacher of men and a bridge
between men and gods. As a group the rishis were the jewel
of Vedic mankind, a higher sub-species of homo-sapiens,
utterly dedicated to truth and to the service of man.
This sub-species did evolve during the millennia of its
existence, as Indian mankind was maturing out of its primeval
youth. The Vedic collections (samhitas) are a lasting testimony
to this youth, to the clearness of its mind and to the freshness
of its sensitivity. The last texts of the Vedas are the Upanishads.
In their time, the bold impetus of the Vedic spirit had somewhat
quieted. Vedic exuberance had flown past the rishis. They were
digging deeper into the innermost meaning of their former
discoveries. This was possible because of the stability of the
Hindu culture, which has often been denounced as being static
and stifling. Very subtle discoveries, however, take time; they
shape themselves during repeated generations of men. They
can blossom only in a stable culture. The human mind is better
able to ponder the infinite if it knows that tomorrow will be
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the same as today. In the same way, Nature teaches us that a
large tree needs much time to unfold itself to its full size and
will not reach it if its roots are disturbed by a shifting ground.
The Upanisadic rishis meditated upon “That One”. They
discovered, within this unitary vision, a revelation of the
timeless, changeless, non-dual reality as being the innermost
truth and ground of the world at large, of Gods, of men. The
reality, Brahman, was oneself, atman, for every creature. A
clear experience of this reality as being oneself and everything
else was liberation from the existential bondage. Ritual was
good, but non-essential.
Vedic seers had already seen that their speech would be
heard in ages to come; this inspired prophecy was to prove to
be true; the Upanishadic rishis were no longer speaking for
the Vedic people, for India, but for every being in every
possible time and place. If there are Martians, Atman and
Brahman are the same for them as for Earthlings, just as
physical laws are the same.
The earliest parts of the Mahabharatam were probably
shaped during the last Upanishadic period. Rishis are often
met within the text. Its reputed author, Vyasa, is one of its
protagonists and a very high rishi himself. Several chapters
show us that rishis practised severe austerities. They
conducted the traditional worship since the Gods kept their
place in the structure of the world. Religion was a natural
element of right living. The rishis did mix with men, as living
examples and as teachers. Their glory was that they studied
the Veda. They enjoyed perfect inner peace. Truth was their
vow. Meditation was their very nature. Rishis used to alleviate
the sufferings of every creature by speech and deed.
Now, thousands of years later, here comes Ramana. Is he
not a member of this sub-species, a proof also that it is not
extinct and that mankind is still able to bring forth rishis, great
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or small, among whom he will loom as one of the greatest?
Maha-Rishi, Maharshi, as Ganapathi Muni saw it so clearly
at the end of the year 1907.
Anybody who has studied the Upanishads and possibly
their native ground, the Veda, will agree that the core of what
Sri Bhagavan taught is precisely what lies at the heart of these
ancient teachings. Supremacy of the knowledge of the Self
(atman); need for inner austerity (tapas) but not necessarily
for leaving aside one’s worldly avocation; self-dedication to
the pursuit of liberation; even bhakti. . . the rishis spoke this
kind of language and lived this kind of language and lived
this kind of experience. They expounded it in very ancient
book, written in archaic Sanskrit which no translation can
adequately render. They used similes and a symbolism which
are quite foreign to Western cultures and which only Hindu
scholars can properly fathom. As a contrast, the voice of Sri
Bhagavan arises in our twentieth century; he uses an everyday
language of India; we can understand at once any image he
develops. The value of a study of the Upanishads and the
Veda stays undiminished. It is however, much easier to sit at
the feet of Sri Bhagavan and listen to his words; just as we
would have loved to sit at the feet of some great rishi of olden
times and listen to his inspired speech.
While attempting to set up a parallel between Sri Bhagavan
and the rishis we meet an interesting problem. Nobody knows
whether any rishi did step directly from ordinary manhood to
rishi-hood, just as Sri Bhagavan did in July 1896 when he leapt
over both life and death, recognizing in a flash that he did not
differ from the Supreme. The Mahabharatam does not seem to
record such a feat. The saintly mother of Sri Ramana had
impressed upon him, from conception, the mysterious seal of
high wisdom which triggered the sudden transfiguration, from
a gawky teenager into a full-grown saint and sage. May we
bow down before such an event, in awe and wonder.
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Austerity, tapas in the usual sense, was not the path of Sri
Ramana. He lived the simple life of the Hindu ascetic. We
find that he felt particularly happy when he subsisted by
begging. Austerity, tapas, is seen by him as an inner attitude
of mental dedication. He taught that ultimate tapas is direct
enquiry into the fundamental problem, “Who am I?” (Let us
point out here that, in the Mahabharatam, a rishi does advise
to meditate according to “Who am I?”). Sri Bhagavan
explained that “one-pointedness is the tapas wanted”. This is
both an excellent instruction and an example of the
Upanishadic process of getting to the essence of things.
The rishis were devotees. This facet of Sri Ramana does
not seem to be very widely known among Westerners. We
know that Sri Bhagavan was in his heart a devotee of
Arunachala Shiva. Whenever any incident full of love took
place, or whenever passages saturated with bhakti were read,
we often saw Bhagavan overwhelmed with emotion.
Many Vedic themes appear in his talks. They lie at the core
of Hindu sensitivity which stems itself from the Veda. Seeing
“the One in the many” was a great Vedic revelation. When
Ramana said, “The devotees, God and the hymns are all the
Self”, the ring of this remark is deeply, authentically Vedic.
The same thought, slightly transposed (but through the same
Upanishadic process of going to the root matter) was evoked
by him, “Engage yourself in the living present I”.
Sri Bhagavan did not study the Veda, nor go through protracted
austerities but, he was Veda. His innate adherence to pure truth
and the clearness of his vision set him amongst the great rishis,
amongst the eternal glories of India and the eternal refuges of
mankind. What Sri Ramana wrote is Upanishad.
“May he enlighten our spirit”, prayed an Upanishad in
ancient times. Thinking of Sri Bhagavan, let us pray again,
“May he enlighten our spirit”!
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ARUNACHALA RAMANA
By Dr. T.M.P. Mahadevan
A very small house near the Southern gate of the great Minakshi
temple received one day a traveller. His purpose, he had
thought, was to visit his relatives, but it turned out that he had
come without his knowing as a messenger from Arunachala.
The tidings he was to convey were intended for a young boy
of sixteen. “Where do you come from?”, asked the boy. “From
Arunachala”, was the answer. As if awakened from slumber
the boy began asking many questions, “What! From
Arunachala! Where is it?” He was told that Arunachala was
the holy mountain in Tiruvannamalai. Thus was conveyed
Lord Arunachala’s call to his “Son”. The word acted like a
mantra in the soul of young Venkataraman. As the weeks rolled
on, it seemed as if he had outwardly forgotten about the visit
from the relative, yet silently the power of Arunachala worked
on inside him, leading him to a book about the lives of the
sixtythree saiva saints. Devotion welled up from his heart
and, deeply inspired by the lives of these holy ones, he would
go to the temple, and stand in awed reverence and spiritual
longing before the sacred images.
Then came that fateful day that brought to him the profound
experience which was to turn the youth into a full-blown sage.
An unwarranted, inexplicable fear of death had caught hold
of him and, like the hero of our ancient tradition, he decided
to face it as Nachiketas had done. And the fear of death was
vanquished once and for all. His courage was rewarded by
the plenary experience wherein the distinction between life
and death disappears, leaving behind pure Being fully revealed
in all its splendour.
After this experience, death could never more frighten him,
but also life at home with his family had lost its meaning.
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“O Arunachala! Dragging me out of my house (the ego), Thou
hast made me enter into the Heart home and slowly Thou hast
shown me That itself as Thy home. (Such is Thy grace)”. Thus
has sung the great sage reminiscing on his state of mind after
that experience in the well known hymn in praise of Arunachala
called Aksharamanamalai. At school as well as at home the
change in the youth was noticed and a rebuke from his elder
brother became the incentive for young Venkataraman to leave
the so-called comfort of life in a household. Where was he to
go? He remembered Tiruvannamalai, the dwelling-place of
Arunachala. That message from Arunachala through the relative
finally filled the young sage’s consciousness; he realized that the
relative’s visit had been an invitation from his Father. The note
he left behind for his family reads, “I have started from this place
in search of my Father in accordance with His command. This
has embarked only on a good enterprise. Therefore, let no one
grieve over this act. No money need be spent on looking for
this”. Commenting on this later in life the sage sings, “O
Arunachala! The day when Thou didst say ‘come’ and I by Thy
grace entered along with Thee into the Heart (that very day) I
lost my individual life. This is Thy grace!”
Externally he conceived of the relationship of Arunachala
and himself as father to son but inwardly it was a relationship
of identity. Much later this was expressed thus in the
aforementioned hymn, “O Arunachala! Thou dost root out
the egoity of those who think ‘I am verily Arunachala!”
The epic journey and the significant happenings on his arrival
are well known. Destiny initiated him into sannyasa for, without
asking for his head to be shaved as is the custom for renunciates,
someone offered to do so. Nature herself assisted by sending
down a torrent of rain which became the ceremonial bath.
So engrossed was the young sage in the bliss of “the open
space of his heart”, that to the outward world he looked as if
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silent and withdrawn. In fact people thought he was doing
severe austerities of not speaking, not eating, merely
meditating, etc. But as he pointed out later, it was not the
result of any sankalpa or vow of penance. There simply was
no inclination to speak. It was a revelling in the kind of
enjoyment that is unknown to most human beings. He had
merged with his Father. God had taken possession of him and
his bodily form became the vehicle of infinite grace.
How could such a one remain unknown? No amount of
silence and seclusion would stop devotees from coming to him
for blessings and instructions. He taught mostly through silence.
Most of his valuable early teaching was not spoken but written
down in response to ardent aspirants during his early days at
Tiruvannamalai. Two sets of answers were given to two different
devotees who ventured to approach the young sage. One devotee
was Gambhiram Seshayya, an ardent Rama bhakta who was
interested in the practice of yoga. He was a mature man, holding
the position of Municipal Overseer at Tiruvannamalai, while
the Guru was only a lad of twentyone years. One is reminded
of the first Guru Dakshinamurti, the youthful preceptor
surrounded by elderly disciples. The divine youth of our century,
out of compassion, responded to the earnest supplications of
his devotee by writing out his earliest teachings on bits of paper.
Later the material was gathered and became the famous Vicara
Sangraham (the Compendium of Self-Inquiry).
The basic teaching that was received from the silent youth
was the ageless eternal teaching of Advaita. The plenary
experience which he had merged into is the non-dual Self, and to
discover this truth is the goal of all aspiration. Enquiry into the
nature of the Self is the way to this goal. When the mind identifies
with the not-Self (the body, senses, thoughts, etc.) there is bondage
to ever-fleeting plurality. But when this identification is
understood to be erroneous by means of the enquiry ‘Who am
I?’, there is release. This enquiry into the Self was taught by the
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sage as the direct path. Luminous and clear explanations about
the proper purpose of established traditional disciplines such as
pranayama, dhyana and jnana were imparted to the blessed
disciple. Devotees who compared his teaching with holy
scriptures would find, to their delight, that his teaching was the
same and they would read out to him relevant passages. These
he would cite sometimes as confirmations of the truth he had
discovered by himself in his own experience.
Sri Sivaprakasam Pillai was the other fortunate devotee. At
that time he was employed in the revenue department of the
South Arcot Collectorate. He had philosophical training, yet,
overwhelmed by this living embodiment of the highest in our
philosophy, he submitted in utter humility questions on spiritual
matters to this youth who had no academic degrees to his credit.
Still not inclined to speak, young Ramana did condescend
to answer these questions by gestures, and when these were
not understood, he would write on the floor or on a slate. Sri
Pillai carefully recollected the fourteen questions and answers
and this collection has come to be known as Naan Yaar? (Who
am I?). Along with ‘Self-inquiry’, ‘Who Am I?’ is the earliest
instruction gathered from the Master in words completely his
own. Here too, the main theme running throughout the questions
and answers is Self-enquiry. This is lucidly set forth in Naan
Yaar. Continuous enquiry should enable the mind to stay in its
source, without being allowed to wander away and get distracted
in the labyrinth of thought created by itself. All other disciplines
such as controlling the breath and fixed meditation on the chosen
form of God must be understood as auxillary practices. They
are very useful in getting the mind to become quiescent and
one-pointed. However, for the mind that has gained the ability
to sustain concentration, Self-enquiry becomes relatively easy.
By persistent enquiry thoughts are destroyed and the Self
realized. The plenary reality remains in which even the ‘I’
thought has vanished. In one of the five gem-like verses on
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Arunachala composed by Bhagavan Ramana there is a beautiful
expression of his devotion to this unique Holy Mountain coupled
with his teaching and experience:
He who enquires whence arises the ‘I’ thought, with a mind
that is pure, inward-turned, and realizes his own nature,
becomes quiescent, O Arunachala, in Thee, as a river in
the ocean.
Let us celebrate the hundredth birthday of Bhagavan Sri
Ramana Maharshi by contemplating this luminous gem in
order to join him in the experience of non-separation.
Sayings of Sri Bhagavan
Two Congress volunteers asked the following questions:
Devotee: By obtaining wisdom through your grace, I want
to teach and spread the knowledge all over the world.
Bhagavan: First know yourself. Then if there is a world, you
may think of teaching it. Without knowing yourself first, how
can you help the world? It is like the blind leading the blind.
D: Why, can’t I get the knowledge of the Atma from studying
the vedanta sastras, where it is said that ‘I am Brahman’?
B: The knowledge of the Atma is not in the vedanta sastras.
Study yourself to gain the knowledge.
D: How to study the Self?
B: Is there anything apart from the Self? Abiding as the
Self is studying the Self. Instead of this, if one learns sastras
then he will get only garlands, good meals, wealth, name and
fame, which are hindrances to knowledge.
D: But still we suffer from samsara.
B: Look for whom the samsara is.
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THE MAHARSHI AND HIS MOTHER
By A.R. Natarajan
RELIGIOUS historians like Prof. D. S. Sarma have unhesitatingly
stated that Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi is the greatest
exemplar of jnana marga after Adi Sankara.
Some people are under the erroneous impression that
jnana, which involves total disidentification with the
body-mind complex, implies a certain lack of emotional
depth. It is assumed that since people, events and things are
viewed by jnanis purely as witnesses, with total detachment,
they would not have the normal human feelings in their
relationship with their relatives and others. The fact however
is the exact opposite and it is only jnanis who can truly
bestow total undistracted love on one and all including their
own blood relations.
It seems to me that the best way to illustrate the truth of this
statement would be to refer briefly to the relationship that some
great spiritual geniuses had with their mothers, and to deal more
exhaustively with the relationship which Bhagavan Sri Ramana
had with his mother. The example of the mother has been taken
not only because the Vedic texts extol the greatness of the mother
as embodiment of God-head, but also because the mother-child
relationship is peerless in its own way.
It is said that the great Sankara had promised his mother
while taking sannyasa that he would come back and be at her
bed-side if she thought of him at the time of her death. Not
only was he by her side at the time of her passing away, but
he also performed the final obsequies, ignoring the orthodox
injunctions against a sannyasin performing these rites.
In the life of Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa there are several
instances of his having acted with the tenderest of concern for
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his mother, Chandra Devi. When he went on a pilgrimage to
Brindavan, he was so taken by the spiritual atmosphere with
which that place was surcharged that he wanted to stay on there
itself. He most reluctantly left the place because of his
consideration for his old mother who, he felt would have been
left uncared for if he stayed far away in Brindavan.
Another incident showing his concern for his mother is
worth recalling. One of his brothers, Rameswar, died at a
comparatively young age. Sri Ramakrishna was afraid that
this news would break his mother’s heart. Therefore, instead
of communicating the news to her he straightaway went to
the temple of Kali and prayed to the Divine Mother to give
the necessary strength of mind and detachment to his mother
so that she would be able to bear the great loss.
Coming to the life of Ramana Maharshi we find an
extraordinarily beautiful and tender relationship between
Sri Ramana and His mother, Alagammal. For ostensible
purposes, one finds three different stages in the
relationship, but throughout, the undercurrent of love Sri
Bhagavan had for his mother and the regard and love she
had for him are evident.
In the biography of Sri Bhagavan we first find a detailed
account of this relationship when his mother went to
Tiruvannamalai in 1898 to persuade him to return home.
Seeing Sri Bhagavan with his matted hair and dirty loin cloth,
his mother’s heart bled and she used all kinds of persuasion
to take him back home.
Sri Ramana who was then observing mouna wrote in Tamil
on a sheet of paper, “The Lord, remaining everywhere, gives
the fruits of all actions at the appropriate time. That which is
destined not to happen will not happen despite any amount of
effort. What is destined to happen cannot be prevented. The
best course is, therefore to have an attitude of resignation”.
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Knowing that it was not possible for him to go back, Sri
Ramana thought that the only recourse open to him was to
give his mother the appropriate advice.
In 1914, while returning from a trip from the shrine of
Venkataramana at Tirupati, she stayed for some time with Sri
Ramana at Virupaksha cave on the Arunachala Hill where
she fell ill with typhoid. On this occasion when her condition
became serious Sri Bhagavan composed touching poems in
Tamil on Arunachala praying for the recovery of his mother.
Two of these verses are given below:
Hill of my refuge that cures
The ills of recurring births!
O Lord! It is for Thee
To cure my mother’s fever.
O God that smitest Death itself!
My sole refuge! Vouchsafe Thy grace
Unto my mother and shield her from
Death. What is Death if scrutinised?
This is the only known instance of prayer by Sri Bhagavan
to change the course of events. Needless to say, Alagammal
recovered.
From 1916 to 1922, the mother was in Tiruvannamalai and
spent the last few years of her life with Sri Ramana. These
years were used by Sri Bhagavan to hasten her spiritual growth
and make her fit for liberation.
So deep was the mother’s love for Sri Bhagavan that she
even refused to go to her daughter’s place for a brief spell
when the daughter had built a house and had invited her just
to set her foot in it. It is reported that she told Sri Ramana,
“Even if you throw my dead body on these thorny bushes, 1
must end this life in your arms”. Sri Ramana, on his part,
used every opportunity to guide his mother in the spiritual
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path. The famous Appala Pattu (song of the pappad) came to
be composed for her spiritual edification.
On 19 May, 1922, the mother took seriously ill, and the
Maharshi, knowing that the time had come, sat by her side
with his right hand on her chest, and the left hand on her
head. At about eight in the night Alagammal attained
Mahasamadhi. When somebody said that she had passed
away, Sri Ramana corrected him with the curt remark, “Not
passed away, absorbed”. Further explaining what happened
in the ten or twelve hours when his hands were on the head
and heart of his mother, Maharshi said:
Innate tendencies (vasanas) and the subtle memory of past
experiences leading to future possibilities became very
active. Scene after scene rolled before her in the subtle
consciousness, the outer senses having already gone. The
soul was passing through a series of experiences, thus
avoiding the need for rebirth and effecting union with the
Supreme Spirit. The soul was at last disrobed of the subtle
sheaths before it reached the final Destination, the Supreme
Peace of liberation from which there is no return to ignorance.
Maharshi had already stated that in jnana there was no
difference between man and woman and that the body of a
woman liberated from life should not be cremated for it was a
temple. Accordingly, she was buried in the southern slopes of
Arunachala, and a lingam, Matrubhuteswara was installed
on the Samadhi. Within a few months, Bhagavan shifted from
Skandasramam to the site of the Samadhi where Sri
Ramanasramam has grown through the years.
In 1949, devotees of Sri Bhagavan completed the building
of a beautiful shrine over the mother’s Samadhi and now the
shrine of Bhagavan Sri Ramana and that of the mother are
adjacent, underscoring the beauty of their wonderful
relationship.


MY REMINISCENCES OF
SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI
By Swami Chidbhavananda
IT was in the year 1921 that a few of us, religiously inclined
college students, undertook a pilgrimage from Madras to
Tiruvannamalai for a darshan of Sri Ramana Maharshi. The
Ashram was then in its initial stage. An august person was
seated on a raised platform, and it was evident he was the
sage whom we had come to see. Around him on the floor
were seated a number of devotees, all intently looking at him,
and we found our places among them. Silence reigned
supreme. The presiding deity of the Ashram was the author
of that silence — hence its perfection. This was a novel
experience for us, but we took to this congenial environment
quite happily.
There was no such thing as the formal introduction of newly
arrived devotees. As others did, we sat quietly. Sri Maharshi
turned his penetrating gaze at us off and on. We felt ourselves
highly blessed by his benign look. Occasionally he spoke a
word or two, which were always pertinent and to the point.
But his silence was more eloquent. An occasional smile
revealed his bliss.
Visiting devotees often brought packets of sugar-candy or
some such thing and offered them to him. He would help
himself to a tiny piece from the packet and pass it on to the
assembled group. Then and there it would be shared by the
entire lot.
I made deeper personal contact with the Maharshi in the
year 1928. I had renounced the world in 1923 and joined the
Ramakrishna Math. In 1926 I entered the Order of sannyasa.
From 1926 to 1940 I was in charge of Sri Ramakrishna Ashram
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at Ootacamund. During that period, when I travelled between
Ootacamund and Madras I took as many opportunities as
possible to go to Tiruvannamalai in order to see the Maharshi.
I was not inclined to talk much with him; being seated in his
presence was more than sufficient. Occasionally he spoke,
but his silence was what I sought and prized every time I
went to him. A purified enquirer makes a rich harvest of the
blissful calmness that prevails in his presence.
The Maharshi occupied a couch in a corner of a middle
sized hall in the Ashram. Barring this corner the entire hall
was at the disposal of the visiting public, and anybody could
go into the hall at any time of day or night. Visiting devotees
would quietly steal in, sit for awhile in quiet meditation, and
then leave unobtrusively. One day a man following the path
of devotion came in and occupied a place very near the sage.
Then he unburdened all that lay buried in his heart. His speech
was choked with feeling. He poured forth, “I have gone on
pilgrimage all over the land. I have been regular in my spiritual
practices. Many a sleepless night have I passed in prayer. Still
to this day I have had no mercy from the Lord. I am forlorn”.
He cried bitterly, but the Maharshi sat unconcerned. Eventually
all his suppressed feelings were worked out, and then in a
measured voice the sage said, “Funny man. He cries — what
is there to sob about? Instead of being poised in the blissful
Self, he goes on wailing”. This observation had a telling effect.
He saw that his problem was self-created, and a new chapter
in his life started.
On another occasion a talkative man made his appearance
in the hall. He chose to sit near the sage and unceremoniously
raised a question, “Bhagavan, what is your view on birth
control”? There was no answer, so the man explained at length
the importance of the topic. Again getting no reply, he
continued until he could say no more, and then fell silent.
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Silence reigned supreme in the hall. In the midst of this silence,
the Maharshi asked, “Do you know death control”? There
was no response.
One day it was suggested to Sri Maharshi that no spiritual
progress could ever be made without sadhana, or discipline.
After a pause he made these observations:
Mind it is that binds man, and the same mind it is that
liberates him. Mind is constituted of sankalpa and vikalpa
— desire and disposition. Desire shapes and governs
disposition. Desire is of two kinds — the noble and the
base. The base desires are lust and greed. Noble desire is
directed towards enlightenment and emancipation. Base
desire contaminates and clouds the understanding. Sadhana
is easy for the aspirant who is endowed with noble desires.
Calmness is the criterion of spiritual progress. Plunge the
purified mind into the Heart. Then the work is over. This
is the essence of all spiritual discipline!
During one of my visits I was seated at some distance from
the Maharshi. There were many devotees in the hall and the
usual silence prevailed. I remembered his injunction, “Plunge
the pure mind into the Heart”, and decided to practise it then.
I gazed at him and he gazed back at me. What followed was
indescribable. His body seemed a glass case from which a
blissful brilliance streamed out. More than half an hour passed
this way. It was an experience unique and unforgettable. It
confirmed Sri Ramakrishna’s statement that spiritual
experience can be transmitted from one person to another in
the manner in which material things are handed over.
Bharata Varsha is ever the bestower of spirituality on
mankind. Sri Ramana Maharshi is verily a true spiritual son
of this holy land, who spontaneously and impersonally
showered benediction on mankind.
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THE PATH AND THE GOAL
By Doris Williamson
EVERY action in Bhagavan’s life was meaningful. His teaching,
simple and direct, requires no temple or ceremonies. Yet, to
the puzzlement of some, Bhagavan personally supervised the
construction of the beautiful little Matrubhuteswara Temple.
Superficially this seems to conflict with his pure advaitic teaching.
All paths lead to God. Bhagavan’s teaching is silence, but
he denies no path. These wonderful gods and goddesses of
India symbolise and embody the qualities to which we aspire,
the qualities we need for our own completion and awakening;
they give to each his Ishta Devata. The deities fill one’s lack
— until the soul eventually aspires to Dakshinamurthi, with
single-minded devotion to Siva Himself, whose living
manifestation was Ramana. Then in peace and utter stillness,
one knows that all is Brahman.
There are as many paths as there are men. Every being is a
facet of Brahman so each path is essentially individual, yet
there is only one path, one God. For those with ears to hear,
Bhagavan teaches the no-path which in essence contains
within itself all paths. Bhagavan consistently brought enquirers
back to the living centre by asking, “To whom is this thought,
who is asking this question”?
Another mystery to some of us is the call of the Mountain
and the potency of its circumambulation — man spiralling to
the centre until the final absorption. What magic is it that the
all-pervading grace of Bhagavan is with us always and
everywhere, seeking out the very being, and yet is more
powerfully present in Arunachala than elsewhere? What
mystery drew Bhagavan to the holy Mountain, the mystery
that so powerfully radiates peace and silence in its vicinity?
It is that mysterious silence of the holy Mountain that stills
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the mind which nowhere else can be so still. Bhagavan was
drawn irresistibly to this physical centre for a good reason.
As the mind of man became less subtle, the column of fire
which was too bright for earthly eyes appeared as mere earth,
as does the body of man. In 1879 the fire externalised itself
once again, in the form of Siva-Arunachala, to attract its
devotees like a magnet, to recharge the ageless Mountain.
Himself that power, he recharged the Mountain which is his
symbol, the holy Mountain which is our very Self.
There undoubtedly are spiritual centres in the world, the
most potent of which is Arunachala. Bhagavan came to
recharge the power and to unveil the eyes of those who would
see. Three decades after his passing, Bhagavan’s presence is
as powerful as ever. The reality, pure light, invisible to earthly
eyes, seen by the gods as a column of fire, and eventually by
man as the holy red Mountain, was glimpsed by man and
known as Ramana.
His teaching, turns one to the inner guru. Only the realised
Being can be a true guru — a lesson to those of lesser wisdom
who endeavour, or presume, to teach or preach. With mind
externalised, it is difficult to question “Who am I?” Bhagavan
asked this while in a state of intense awareness, the ‘I’
observing the apparent death of the body. It is a question not
by the mind, but by the witness, and the atmosphere at the
Ashram helps one to be that witness. Yet “I am here”, said
Bhagavan, and that here is the universe, not confined by time
and space. Even reading about Bhagavan brings us in touch
with the wonder of his reality, and love wells up in the heart
at a sight of his picture.
Fully alive, without attachment, how well he demonstrates
that this is an interesting and beautiful world, as we see him
appreciating the dream from his awakened state, the unreal
and the real as one perfect whole. All is Brahman. One is
inspired by his keen observation, his interest in detail. By his
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complete acceptance of the person as he is, he sees only
divinity and thus unveils that divinity.
Blessed are the devotees of Bhagavan Ramana. He is our
path which is the goal. Through his grace we live in the world
in fullness, knowing that we are ever at his lotus feet and that
one day our veils will dissolve and we shall be absorbed in
Arunachala.
Abiding Grace of Bhagavan Sri Ramana
By B. Anjaneyulu
It was in 1948 that I went to Tiruvannamalai along with
my mother and other relatives, as the nephew of my mother,
Sri Lakshmana Yogeeswara of Gudur, was staying at
Ramanasramam engaged in meditation there. On the morning
after our arrival, we entered the hall of Sri Bhagavan to have
his holy darshan. There was a large concourse of devotees in
the hall. It was 8.00 a.m. when Bhagavan entered the hall
with his bewitchingly divine smile. Everybody in the hall stood
up in great veneration and there was absolute silence.
I was overwhelmed with joy to see so many earnest souls
and I was thrilled at the sight of Bhagavan’s divine personality.
Never before had I experienced such profound bliss. Waves
of some strange power swept through me and I was lost in
inexpressible ecstasy. My mind was free from all thoughts.
Bhagavan alone pervaded my being. I did not know what it
was then, as I was only a lad of 14. This was my first and last
darshan of Sri Bhagavan and the only time I had such a rare
spiritual experience. His eternal and all-pervading grace has
been with me in all the ups and downs of my life.
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THE HERALD OF A NEW ERA
By Dr. Robert Fuchsberger
WE are on the threshold of a new era. Old values have lost
their significance and new ones are gradually becoming visible
in the foggy atmosphere of these apocalyptic times. As we
witness these tremendous material, mental and spiritual
changes and the concomitant suffering that all mankind is
going through, it is useful to pause and consider what spiritual
treasures we have inherited from the past and what new
revelations we may expect in the future.
The most obvious of the spiritual currents from the past is
religion, which, in some form or another, is as old as mankind.
In the range of religion from the most primitive forms to the
most sublime, we can find the veneration of natural forces,
the worship of gods and goddesses, the worship of one God.
We also find in almost all of these situations the hidden idea
of one Godhead, the One without a second.
Here religion meets and melts into philosophy. Philosophy
was originally closely connected with religion; only after
many centuries did it separate itself from religion and go its
own way. The history of philosophy shows a shift from the
heights of Upanishadic lore and neo-Platonic thought to an
emphasis on the power of the human intellect to solve the
puzzles of the universe. From the time of Kant, reason has
reigned supreme in the kingdom of philosophy.
The youngest spiritual discipline, psychology, was
popularised in the last century by the work of Freud and Jung
on the unconscious part of the human psyche. Jung, tracing
the psyche to its archetypal roots, appropriately compares
human consciousness to a small isle in the vast ocean of the
unconscious.
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When we look to these disciplines for the help they offer
to modern man, we find a gloomy picture indeed. Religion is
on the decline throughout the world. Modern man, seeking
scientific proofs, has lost his faith in divine forces and religion,
in which the mystical is dwindling or has already dried up
and changed into mere profession of faith, moral teachings
and idolatry. Philosophy has even less to offer. In its modern
form, as a science, it either interprets the universe with an
acrobatic play of concepts or declares openly that science
cannot explain the basic questions of being.
This was the dark spiritual atmosphere of the twentieth century,
into which Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, the Sage of
Arunachala, came to fulfill his mission on our globe. His message,
partly conveyed to mankind through a few booklets, partly
through cryptic, profound answers to questions from visitors,
soon reached every corner of the world. But the most important
part of his message was conveyed through silence, through
transmission of spiritual strength, and it is this thunderous silence
which still has the greatest influence on the whole world.
During the bodily presence of Bhagavan Sri Ramana
Maharshi, crowds of people daily visited Tiruvannamalai to
have his darshan. Some of these visitors were attracted by
his extraordinary personality — which was obvious to all —
but they went away without being deeply influenced by him,
although they acknowledged his greatness. Others were more
deeply moved, and became then and there devotees and true
bhaktas. For them the Maharshi became their haven of refuge,
and for the rest of their lives they submitted their egos to his
divinity. A small minority of visitors acknowledged his
divinity, but at the same time understood his teaching and
began to practice Self-enquiry according to his advice.
So we see that different people, with their ego-ridden
minds, saw Sri Bhagavan in different ways. That is natural,
because the Divine, being always beyond relativity, assumes,
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like a colourless gem, many facets according to the faculty of
the admirer’s eye. So mortals see the Maharshi as a great
personality, a rishi, a jivanmukta, a sadguru, a sthitaprajna,
an avatara, and so on.
I see Sri Bhagavan as harbinger of a new epoch, a
messenger of the times yet to come. In this role I see Sri
Bhagavan standing on the threshold of the coming millennium,
as the prophet of a new spiritual high tide. Standing on this
threshold and focussing the wisdom of the Upanishads, he
presents to posterity the age old wisdom in a new form well
suited to the man of modern times.
And what is this message? It is the teaching of the unity of
Being, the accessibility of this Being through one’s own Self,
and the practical path to its realisation: Atma Vichara, the
search for this Self. In a nutshell this is the whole of the
Maharshi’s teaching. It seems very simple and it is really too
simple for the speculative intellects of the majority of mankind
today. How many individuals are at present capable of
understanding a teaching which is neither a religion, nor a
philosophy, nor even a psychology, a teaching which needs
no belief, no scholarship and no psychological doctrine? Even
today those who really understand the teaching of Sri
Bhagavan, which is far beyond all doctrines and practise it
accordingly, are very few.
But certainly the future will produce a human race which
will be capable of understanding and comprehending his
message in its fullness and following the path shown by him.
Sri Maharshi’s mission surely did not end with the death of his
bodily form, but in reality it only began. He himself said, “You
think I am going to die, but I shall be more alive than ever”.
This promise of his was substantiated at the moment of his
Mahasamadhi, when a bright star appeared in the sky, and
crossed the nightly firmament, herealding a new spiritual era.
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KAVYAKANTHA: A COLOSSUS OF
LEARNING AND TAPAS
By K. Natesan
SRI Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni (1878-1936), who was
unique in being at once a scholar, poet, patriot, political thinker
and tapasvi, was one of the most esteemed figures of his times.
Various branches of Sanskrit learning — the Vedas,
Upanishads, itihasas, puranas, mantra sastra, alankara,
ayurveda, philosophy, grammar, poetry and astrology — were
all mastered by him quite early in life. He could speak fluently
in Sanskrit and compose poems extempore. An assembly of
pandits held in the year 1900 at Nadia were so impressed by
his poetic powers and in particular his skill in the special
literary exercise of completing a verse begun by another poet,
that they conferred on him the title of Kavyakantha (one from
whose throat poetry gushed spontaneously).
A Sanskrit poet even at the age of twelve, Kavyakantha had
also drunk deep at the fount of religious literature and was well
set for a rigorous spiritual life before he was eighteen. After his
marriage he engaged himself in serious spiritual practice,
visiting various holy centres for the purpose. He was a firm
believer in mantra japa and in its power to solve all problems,
including that of Indian Independence. Siva Panchakshari was
his favourite mantra, and he recited it a crore of times. In 1903
he came to Arunachala to perform tapas. He visited Sri Ramana
Maharshi, who was then known as Brahmana Swami on the
hill twice before he accepted a teacher’s job at Vellore in 1904.
With his organising ability, he gathered a group of students
whose mantra japa was to generate enough spiritual energy to
cure the ills of the nation and promote its welfare. In fact it was
his strong conviction, like Swami Vivekananda, that national
welfare should be placed above individual salvation. He soon
resigned his job at Vellore and returned to Arunachala in 1907.
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An intellectual and spiritual giant who had high achievements
to his credit and a host of followers as well, Kavyakantha still
felt that his life’s purpose was not fulfilled. He remembered
Brahmana Swami whom he had met before and went to him
again. This was to give him the inward peace that he still seemed
to lack. The meeting was of profound significance not only for
Kavyakantha but for the world at large which could learn from
such a high authority about the real stature of the swami.
Kavyakantha approached the Virupaksha cave where
Brahmana Swami was staying, and prostrating himself before
him, said in a trembling voice, “All that has to be read I have
read. Even Vedanta Sastra I have fully understood. I have
performed japa to my heart’s content. Yet I have not up to
this time understood what tapas is. Hence have I sought refuge
at thy feet. Pray, enlighten me about the nature of tapas”. For
fifteen minutes Sri Ramana silently gazed at Kavyakantha.
He then spoke:
If one watches whence this notion of ‘I’ springs, the mind
will be absorbed into that. That is tapas. If a mantra is
repeated and attention is directed to the source whence the
mantra sound is produced, the mind will be absorbed in
that. That is tapas.
The scholar was filled with joy and announced that the
upadesa was original, and that Brahmana Swami was a
Maharshi and should be so called thereafter. He gave the full
name of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi to Brahmana Swami,
whose original name had been Venkataraman (named after the
Lord of Tirupati). Kavyakantha was now the foremost disciple
of Sri Ramana. His disciples also came to the Maharshi. They
sought and obtained clarification on many doubtful points. His
Sri Ramana Gita recording these questions and answers
(between the years 1913 and 1917) is divided into eighteen
chapters like the Bhagavad Gita and is a great source of
inspiration. His Ramana Chatvarimsat is a hymn well known
113
to devotees and is recited daily at Bhagavan’s shrine. Moving
to various places he finally settled down in a village near
Kharagpur and passed away in 1936. His was an eventful life
spent in writing, research, tapas and in guiding his disciples.
The works of Kavyakantha numbering over a hundred fall
under numerous categories. There are hymns, sutras (aphorisms),
commentaries, researches in the Rig Veda, a model constitution
for India, and even fiction. Uma Sahasram sings in a thousand
verses the glories of the Divine Mother. A few hundred verses
towards the end were composed in the immediate presence of
Sri Ramana in an incredibly short time, Kavyakantha having
four men busy writing to his dictation. Indrani Saptasadi, Chandi
Trisati and Gita Mala are other important works, the last being
praise of deities like Indra and Agni. The most outstanding of his
sutras is that on Dasa Maha Vidya, which reconciles the Vedantic
and Tantric schools on the subject of the ten cosmic powers. The
Sahasranama strings together Indra’s thousand names culled from
the Rig Veda. His Rig Vedic commentaries have brought within
the reach of readers an abstruse subject which needed clarification.
His research work on the Mahabharata deals with the question
of its Vedic basis. Satdarsanam, a rendering in Sanskrit of Sri
Ramana’s Ulladu Narpadu, and a commentary on his Upadesa
Saram are very popular with the devotees of Sri Ramana.
As evidence of Kavyakantha’s burning patriotism the
following may be cited from his Indrani Saptasati:
O Mother! I take refuge at thy feet so that my country may
prosper, this country long beaten, shattered and weeping.
May the enemies of dharma perish. May friends of our
land prosper. This would gladden my heart. O Divine
Mother! I take refuge at thy feet.
O beloved of Indra! Spies dog the heels of our mighty men.
We are afraid even to give vent to our sorrows. They bow
to Thee for grace. Refuge at Thy feet.




(Con
My humble salutations to the lotus feet of Bhagavan Sree Ramana Maharshi
and also gratitude to Bhagavan’s great devotees   for the collection)

tinued  ...)

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