Sri Ramanasramam · Quarterly Journal
July 2026 · Vol. 63, No. 3
A journal devoted to the life, teachings, and presence of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. Published since 1964 at the foot of sacred Arunachala.
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In This Issue
43. ॐ हराय नमः
OM Harāya namaH
The Destroyer.
The next Vedic rasi, following Taurus, is Gemini, classically known in both Jyotish and Western astrology as “the twins.” It is the first house of Kama, or desire, ruled by the element of Vayu, or wind. Just as the wind breathes beauty into the branches of a tree and also wreaks havoc during a storm, the force of Kama animates the entire cosmos - tenderly, and with passionate frenzy.
Aptly, Gemini, as the natural 3rd house of the zodiac, rules over the arms and hands; it is the energy of grasping for that which we desire, as well as the courage to turn desire into reality. If Taurus was speech - pure sound-form - Gemini is communication - the ability to grasp and convey meaning. Gemini also represents siblings, friends, our immediate environment, and commerce - in short, it is the sign of “exchange,” and thus, of duality.
Within Gemini rests the nakshatra, or star cluster, known as Ardra. This cluster is the birth star of Adi Shankaracharya, who dismantled competing thought-streams across India in order to revitalize Sanatana Dharma. Fittingly, the deity of Ardra Nakshatra is Rudra - Siva in the form of the destroyer. The nakshatra is known as “The Star of Sorrow” and is represented either by a single teardrop, indicative of the fruits of clinging to duality, or by a diamond - that which is priceless.
Bhagavan himself said of suffering: “It is the way.” In fact, it is only through pain, mistakes, and sorrow that one learns what is truly meaningful. Value is the domain of Taurus, and meaning of Gemini - the difference lies in the quality of our experience. Though a teardrop may not have any intrinsic value, its meaning may reach a depth beyond understanding, known only to us or those close to us. It is through shared meaning that all bonds are forged, including our bond with God. And it is only by destroying that which we profess to value above Him that Arunachala establishes within us and communicates to us the unshakeable truth of desire itself: that He is its only real object.
— S. Lazar
Grace manifests in our everyday life. We are, in many ways, the aggregate of how we live each day—our duties, our spiritual sadhana, our chosen occupation, and how we choose to spend our free time.
A friend recently shared with me that his father had been a good man who lived a deeply dharmic life. Yet, toward the end, he suffered greatly and died in pain. “What, then, is the point,” he asked, “of sacrificing pleasures and striving to live a dharmic life?” In contrast, he observed that many who indulge freely, who drink heavily, party, and lead less restrained lives, seem to pass away without much suffering.
Coming from a devotee of Bhagavan, the question startled me. It revealed that even those who have been on Bhagavan’s path for decades can sometimes miss a fundamental understanding of Grace.
I asked him how his father had faced his final days. Initially, he spoke of suffering and distress. But as we spoke further, he acknowledged that this was his own perception. In truth, his father had been inwardly prepared. He bade farewell to loved ones, chose to stop medication when recovery was no longer possible, and passed away with the Lord’s name on his lips.
Grace does not remove pain, but it grants clarity, acceptance, inner peace, and the strength to act wisely, remain composed, and leave this world without burdening others. This state of mind at the end of life is the result of a life lived in the light of Bhagavan’s Grace. It is the outcome of living by His teachings now rather than hoping for some Divine intervention at the end of life.
How Bhagavan’s Grace Manifests
What we just saw in the father’s death was not a boon in his final days, but rather the harvest of a dharmic life as it was lived one day at a time.
Bhagavan’s Grace finds expression in our daily lives. We may see it in the way we respond to whatever comes our way with dignity, steadiness, and quiet efficiency, navigating the ups and downs of life with equanimity. It is reflected in one becoming self-reliant, minimizing one’s needs, rejecting covetous tendencies, and eschewing gossip: speaking of others only when our input is constructive and truly needed.
Grace also is reflected in inner contentment and gratitude for the opportunity that Bhagavan has given us to turn toward the Self. It is serving quietly with devotion, staying anchored in Him, while gently loosening attachments to people and possessions. It shows in doing one’s work with careful attention, without anxiety over results, and in filling our free moments with japa, meditation, and vichara.
People often ask what this looks like in practice. The key is to establish a regular routine and a steady rhythm. One may wake early, bathe, pray at the family altar, read a few pages of spiritual literature, and spend a few quiet minutes in meditation before the day begins, before the mind is pulled outward by the demands of the world. If necessary, one may briefly check the phone for anything urgent, but should avoid getting drawn into emails, messages, or social media until the mind has been steadied. In this manner, the day can begin in a centered and grounded manner.
Throughout the day, one gently reminds oneself of the teaching: you are not the body, but the Self, ever-content, untouched, and whole. This quiet remembrance helps safeguard us from being swept away by the feverish pace of world activities.
Facing the Six Enemies in Daily Life
Consider a few everyday situations that may challenge our balance and calm. At their root are the six enemies outlined in Hindu scriptures. Bhagavan’s teachings, an expression of his Grace, offer clear guidance to avoid falling into their trap.
Kama (Desire/Lust): Uncontrolled craving—whether for pleasure, power, or recognition—pulls the mind outward.
During a commute to work, our mind may seek to fill itself with distractions such as music that excites us, thoughts of other people, or of past or future events — all of these serving to feed the ego. Similarly, while waiting at the dentist, we may feel drawn to check social media or messages, tempted by posts that stir desire. Following Bhagavan’s path of vichara, we can remain alert to such impulses. Enjoying music or briefly glancing at messages may be understandable, but it is their second- and third-order effects—restlessness, distraction, or an elevated heart rate from excitement that we must watch out for. To shield the mind from strong, destabilizing reactions such as these, we might switch to devotional music, japa, or return to meditation or reflection, thus keeping the mind steady and undisturbed.
Krodha (Anger): Arises when desires are obstructed; it clouds judgment and leads to harmful actions.
In a tense meeting at work, voices may be raised and tempers may flare. Accusations may be unwarranted, and the immediate urge is to respond in anger. Remembering Bhagavan’s teaching that it is our identification with roles and status that traps us in a sense of perceived injustice or unfairness allows us to step back. By seeing ourselves as the Self rather than the limited “I,” we remain anchored, and can respond calmly and constructively. The tension will often dissipate, and we will emerge stronger and more respected.
Lobha (Greed): A constant wanting beyond need.
A friend may urge us to invest in a particularly complex financial instrument. Though financially secure, we may still feel tempted. By recalling Bhagavan’s teaching on contentment, we evaluate the opportunity with discernment, weighing risks carefully rather than being drawn by potential gain. This groundedness can prevent unnecessary loss and reflects the wisdom of contentment.
Moha (Delusion/Attachment): Attachment clouds judgment.
Our child may come home with a warning slip for breaking rules or associating with troubling peers. Our immediate attachment may impel us to rush to their defense or fix the situation. Bhagavan’s teaching encourages detachment: we see the child as a student, not only as “our child,” and remember that we are simply the child’s custodians, for they come to this world with their own karma. We act with calm understanding, talk, guide, and correct, addressing reality without being ensnared by emotion.
Mada (Pride/Arrogance): Egoistic intoxication—pride in wealth, status, or power.
A senior physician, decorated with awards, may approach a case with certainty and dismiss a nurse’s concern or a junior colleague’s suggestion. The subtle feeling that “I am the one curing the patient” clouds objectivity. Similarly, a woman at home, proud of her cooking skills, may look down on everyone else’s efforts, creating tension in the household. Following Bhagavan’s teaching, both can recognize that they are not the doers but instruments of a greater purpose. The physician pauses, listens carefully, and re-examines the case; the cook shares joyfully and humbly in the meal preparation. In each instance, humility and awareness of the Self guide their actions, allowing clarity, cooperation, and a harmonious outcome.
Mātsarya (Jealousy/Envy): Resentment toward others’ success.
At a family gathering, relatives may discuss a cousin’s admission to a top medical college. Many are jealous. Staying aware of Bhagavan’s teaching that there are no “others” and that each has their own prarabdha karma, we avoid falling into jealousy. We gently redirect the discussion toward the expression of joy for the cousin, or excuse ourselves without friction, maintaining inner calm.
The essence is this: by not giving in to external disturbances, we maintain equanimity of the mind. A calm and steady mind naturally turns toward japa, meditation, or vichara whenever there is a pause in activity.
We all know how hard this is to put into practice. That is why we seek the Guru’s grace and blessings.
In the following exchange from Talk 491 of Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Bhagavan assures us that the Sadguru will help cleanse these impurities for us:
D.: It is said that kama (desire), krodha (anger), etc., vanish in the presence of the Sadguru. Is it so?
M.: It is correct. Kama and krodha must vanish before Self-Realisation.
D.: But all the disciples of a guru are not of the same degree of advancement. There are lapses in a few cases. Who is responsible for such lapses?
M.: There is no connection between Self-realisation and individual predispositions (samskara). It is not always possible to live up to the ideal of the Guru.
D.: Do not passions affect Realisation?
M.: The attempt to cleanse oneself will be automatic.
D.: Is it not necessary to wash off all impurities before Realisation?
M.: Jnana will wash them clean.
He also provided a clear method to overcome them. To a question posed by Paul Brunton on how to overcome passions, Bhagavan replied:
“Find their root and then it will be easy. (Later) What are the passions? Kama (lust), krodha (anger), etc. Why do they arise? Because of likes and dislikes toward the objects seen. How do the objects project themselves in your view? Because of your avidya, i.e., ignorance. Ignorance of what? Of the Self. Thus, if you find the Self and abide therein, there will be no trouble owing to the passions.”[1]
Building Daily Discipline
By consciously shaping how we spend our time outside of work and discharging family duties, we cultivate discipline one step at a time, without having to rely on occasional retreats or forced “digital detox.” A quiet joy and steadiness begin to pervade one’s daily life.
Most readers likely already have some form of daily practice. We recognize how meditation, japa, satsang, or temple visits calm and focus the mind. Yet, returning to routine often revives old patterns. The key is to keep the flame of the inner quest alive—so that even when drawn outward, we return repeatedly to the teaching. Each return strengthens our anchoring, and the more often we do so, the more steadily we walk Bhagavan’s path and open ourselves to His Grace.
With this orientation, we fulfill our duties with care and efficiency, while setting natural limits. We do what is required, and when the mind is free, it returns effortlessly to sadhana.
A disciplined life, then, is not rigid or burdensome. It is simply a life in which the mind is gently kept in check—where action and inward turning coexist.
The Fruit of a Dharmic Life
To turn toward Bhagavan is itself Grace, the fruit of punyam (merit) gathered over many lives. That Grace must find expression in how we live each day. It cannot be a chore; it must become the quiet center of our lives, something we come to cherish long before old age or ill health compels us inward. This is the true fruit of a dharmic life centered in Bhagavan: a life lived in quiet joy and abiding peace.
It is such daily discipline and devotion that will ensure that Bhagavan’s Grace is with us now and also when the time comes to depart this world. Pain may be inevitable, but suffering need not be.
What greater blessing could we seek?
As the poet-devotee Muruganar sings:
Victory to the holy feet of Him who slew the six inner enemies: kama, krodha, lobha, moha, mada, and matsarya - which are impossible to combat, rooting out every last trace of the powerful effects of my karma, which are so hard to remove![2]
In humility and devotion,
Venkat S. Ramanan
I. Introduction
“The very fact that you are possessed of the quest of the Self is a manifestation of the Divine Grace. It is effulgent in the Heart, the inner being, the Real Self. It draws you from within.”[1]
— Sri Ramana Maharshi
Many who encounter Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi speak of a subtle feeling of being drawn into a current of pure presence. It may arise through reading a few lines of his teachings, through contemplation of his life, or simply through an unaccountable stirring in the heart upon seeing his photograph. Such occurrences often have an indefinable quality: the sense of being quietly drawn inward. There is something in this inward draw that sets it apart — something that does not seem to belong to the individual who feels it.
The companion article, Satguru Ramana,[2] described the revelation of the Self through the sage of Arunachala. From that standpoint, the Self found expression in the embodied Guru, radiating Silence, Grace, and guidance according to the needs of those who approached him. The life and presence of Ramana revealed how realization could function as a living centre through which seekers encountered a power that stilled the mind and opened the heart.
This article now pivots the direction of attention inward. Rather than viewing the outward movement of the Self through the form of the Guru, we turn to consider how this same action is experienced by the seeker who is drawn to him. What appears as attraction to the sacred presence, devotion to the teacher, or a persistent inward pull can be seen from another perspective: the Guru serving as the instrument by which the Self draws the seeker back toward itself.
This complementary shift — from the outward expression of the Self to its inward drawing — is itself grounded in Ramana’s own realization. Satguru Ramana showed how each dimension of his teaching arose from what that realization disclosed; we now turn to what it discloses about Grace. Ramana’s realization occurred without preparation, method, or teacher — without even the knowledge that such a thing as realization existed. It was the Self’s direct, unmediated self-disclosure: spontaneous, complete, and not an accomplishment of the individual who underwent it. What this reveals is not a teaching about Grace but the nature of Grace itself: the consummation is never the seeker’s achievement. It is the Self recognising itself.
If the consummation was not the result of effort, Grace cannot be effort’s fruition. If it was whole to begin with, it is not something the seeker arrives at progressively. Ramana’s realization itself compels these insights. His injunction — Be Still — embeds this same recognition: the sādhak’s being still and that inward draw within the sādhak are one.
Yet through the veil of individuality, the lived experience has a different character. Because one considers oneself a separate entity — with a body, an accumulation of experiences, and choices apparently of one’s own making — Grace seems at first to be a benediction from the beyond. It may be perceived as remote, something to be solicited, earned, or received. There may even be periods when it seems to be entirely out of reach or nonresponsive, leaving the seeker to wonder whether what one had once known had even been real.
Such experiences are not imagined. They are natural to the standpoint of individuality. What appears as separation is experienced as real within the field of discrete existence, and the deeper reality does not discredit this perspective. It meets the seeker where one stands. Yet as understanding matures, another recognition starts to emerge: Grace is not somewhere beyond or apart from oneself. It is present within as the very ground of being — the Heart from which the sense of individuality arises and into which it subsides.
The relationship between seeker and Guru thus discloses a deeper, more subtle movement. What appears outwardly as the draw toward Ramana and inwardly as the kindling of devotion may be understood as dual facets of a single action. The very movement that carries one toward the Guru is itself the return; what feels like reaching outward is, from a deeper perspective, the Self reclaiming itself. The tradition describes this as pravṛtti and nivṛtti: reality appearing as manifold and reality withdrawing into itself — not separate movements but the whole, integral working of Grace. This is not abstract philosophy. It is the very current in which the seeker has been moving all along.
The very fact that one feels drawn to Bhagavan — toward his teaching, his presence, or the stillness he embodied — is itself the disclosure of that current already at work.
II. Grace as Origin: The Impulse to Seek
“Whether or not God’s grace abundant sustains you, entertain no doubt. That you, avid for freedom from bondage, have started self-enquiry, this is proof enough of grace.”[3]
There is a dissatisfaction that worldly enjoyments and accomplishments cannot assuage. It does not announce itself as spiritual, nor does it always arrive in the guise of suffering. It may surface as a vague, nagging insufficiency at the centre of an otherwise full life — the sense, sometimes barely articulable, that the experiences one has had, the possessions one has accumulated, or what one has become, have not touched something essential. There is an intuition, independent of any teaching, that this cannot be all — an inward tug that cannot be ignored, a pull that no outward restructuring of circumstances can entirely cover up.
This inward movement is not one’s own. Ordinary concerns carry the mind outward — toward objects, accomplishments, experiences that promise completion and beget only further want. The deeper yearning moves in the reverse direction, drawing attention back toward the very source from which both cares and the one who cares arise. The mind, left to its own momentum, will not turn back upon itself. It disperses outward incessantly. When attention turns inward with an urgency not born of individual will, what is acting is something deeper and more primal. It is the Self’s own gravitational pull asserting itself within consciousness — felt, within the field of individuality, as the ache of incompletion.
This dissatisfaction, this unaccountable insufficiency, this inexplicable pull inward does not issue from or belong to the seeker. It is Grace. Ramana’s realization itself discloses why this is so. The Self’s recognition of itself occurred in him without any prior movement of seeking — no longing preceded it, no aspiration prepared the ground. His realization was not a seeker’s accomplishment, because there was no seeker who accomplished it. And this holds equally for those treading Ramana’s path: the longing that stirs within them is no more theirs than the consummation it seems to yearn for. It is Grace itself, appearing within the seeker’s experience as the Self’s own drawing power.[4]
The pull may come in different forms. In some lives, it surfaces as philosophical restlessness — an unwillingness to settle for received answers, a sense that concepts circle their subject without penetrating it. In others, it springs from suffering, when the travails of worldly existence become impossible to ignore or overcome. In still others, it manifests as devotion — a deep, seemingly inexplicable attraction toward a sacred spot, a spiritual presence, the luminous gravity of a teacher in whose proximity something unnamable becomes palpable. However it appears, the underlying movement is the same: attention relinquishing its grip on surface experience and turning, however hesitantly, toward its source.
Because the ego considers itself an autonomous agent, it appropriates this movement as its own volitional action — believing that through its own free will or deep introspection it is carving a path to the truth. Yet as the quest deepens, a different recognition stirs. One discovers that at no point has one been acting independently. What felt like personal initiative has, from the start, been the movement of a current already beckoning from within.
Nor is Grace only motive or yearning. It is also the exhausting of the mind’s reliance on its own strategies — the loosening, through what feels like frustration or aridity, of the ego’s grasping for the forms of fulfillment it has projected. What appears as discontent or desolation may itself be Grace — the comforts that sustained the outward orientation now unavailable, and the ground cleared for a deeper yielding.
Beneath the restless surface of the ocean runs a current that has never not been present. Waves appear to rise and fall according to their own activity, yet their motion belongs to a power far deeper than the turbulence visible above. Individuality is the surface transience; the current is the depth itself. The seeker does not produce the longing for liberation — it rises from depths that the seeker never created nor can ever fathom.
Consider what occurred in the life of Ramana himself. At sixteen, impelled by an irresistible, causeless force, the sense of a separate self collapsed. He did not seek this; he did not even know there was anything to be sought. What is ordinarily experienced as a gradual inward deepening, extended over years of seeking, was in his case compressed into a single overwhelming revelation — the same Grace, the same origin, differing only in the apparent suddenness of its recognition.
Ramana himself named the underlying unity with precision: “...the vichara that you are making is itself the Guru’s grace or God’s Grace.”[5] The two are not sequential — first the seeker’s effort, then, as reward, the descent of something higher. They are concurrent because they are one movement appearing under different aspects. From the side of the individual, there is striving, seeking, yearning. From the side of the Self, there is only its own pull upon itself.
Effort is not followed by Grace. It is Grace yet to be recognised as such.
III. The Shapes Grace Takes: Enquiry and Surrender
If the longing for liberation does not originate in the seeker, the path that unfolds from it cannot belong to the seeker either.
Ramana did not leave seekers only with Silence. For those not yet attuned to his Silent teaching, he gave two forms of guidance: Self-enquiry and Surrender. These are not practices apart from Grace. They are the modes of its inward movement within the seeker’s surface consciousness. In this sense, Ramana’s verbal guidance mirrors the deeper currents already at work: Silence finding expression as enquiry, and Grace finding expression as surrender.
What Ramana’s realization disclosed — that the consummation is not the culmination of the seeker’s effort — means that the practices he offered cannot be preparatory for Grace. They are Grace itself, already immanent in the seeker’s own striving.
Self-enquiry — ātma-vicāra — is the reflexive tracing of the “I”-sense back toward the Source. In some, it crystallises as an intense, sustained act of observation: the mind, instead of pursuing the outward-streaming thoughts, turns to examine the one to whom they occur. This is not a discursive exercise, nor a search for a conceptual answer, but a direct, intuitive, almost tactile, fixing of attention upon the root “I”-sense — the locus from which the assertion of identity and agency arises.
Ramana put this with characteristic directness: “Your attempt is Vichara (earnest quest), the deep inner movement is Grace. That is why I say there is no real Vichara without Grace, nor is there Grace active for him who is without Vichara. Both are necessary.”[6] What appears from the perspective of the individual as the turning inward of attention has, in truth, always been the Self’s own gravitational pull. The enquiry that the seeker undertakes and the draw that carries the seeker inward are a single current, inseparable and whole.
Surrender — śaraṇāgati — is the same movement finding expression through the heart. Where enquiry works through the inward turning of attention, surrender unfolds through the erosion of agency. The urge to relinquish the burden of worldly cares, the draw to worship the Lord — to say “Not I but Thou” — arise as Grace dissolving the very notion of an independent doer who must navigate a path to achieve an end. Unlike enquiry, where Grace presents as the seeker’s apparent effort, in surrender there is no such mediating appearance. The ceding of volition is itself the whole movement of Grace: it is the origin, the expression, and the completion. Surrender is the dissolution of the very sense of being separate from the Divine.
Ramana described the two paths as identical in their culmination.
“There are only two ways to conquer destiny or be independent of it. One is to enquire for whom is this destiny and discover that only the ego is bound by destiny and not the Self, and that the ego is non-existent. The other way is to kill the ego by completely surrendering to the Lord, by realizing one’s helplessness and saying all the time: ‘Not I but Thou, O Lord!’, and giving up all sense of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ and leaving it to the Lord to do what he likes with you. Surrender can never be regarded as complete so long as the devotee wants this or that from the Lord. True surrender is love of God for the sake of love and nothing else, not even for the sake of salvation. In other words, complete effacement of the ego is necessary to conquer destiny, whether you achieve this effacement through Self-enquiry or through bhakti-marga.”[7]
Different in paths, identical in what falls away. Both Self-enquiry and Surrender trace the same inward movement of Grace operating within the fetters of individuality.
Yet even the consolations of practice are not spared. The peace, devotion, and felt sense of presence that once sustained the seeker may recede. To the one undergoing this, it can feel as though Grace itself has been withheld, because it is of a depth that the seeker cannot fathom. When a devotee asked Ramana whether interruptions to peace meant that he had ceased to have Bhagavan’s Grace, Ramana replied: “You, crazy fellow! The trouble or want of peace comes only because of Grace.”[8] What may appear as aridity is Grace dispossessing the seeker of every form of fulfillment, including the most refined — not as abandonment, but because attachment to spiritual experience is itself a subtle form of appropriation that must be given up. What once thrived on experience must now subsist without validation or support.
There is no moment in which the seeker acts alone. There is no practice that is not already Grace at work. What Ramana called enquiry and surrender are expressions of that same inward movement.
Interlude: Grace as Lived and Grace as Depth
Devotees of Ramana speak of Grace in the language of life as it is actually lived. Joy filling the heart without cause. Guidance arriving in the midst of perplexity, sometimes as a clearing in which the path forward seems to open up naturally. Timely help in difficulty — inexplicable, occasionally startling in its synchronicity — as though the very circumstances of one’s life had rearranged themselves unnoticed around some invisible, guiding force.
These experiences are genuine. Ramana never dismissed them. When devotees recounted such happenings — a crisis averted, an inner prompting answered, succour and protection provided — he received them quite matter-of-factly. When he said, “Grace is within you… Grace is the Self,” he was not denying experience. He was deepening its understanding. For the devotee struggling in the stream of individualized existence, Grace is personal. It responds. It acts. It appears precisely where it is needed, at the moment it is needed, and in forms the heart can recognise.
Such events are the natural expression of Grace within the devotee’s lived experience. As long as individuality remains operative — as long as there is a heart that can yearn or a life that can be imperilled — it meets that individuality on its own ground. Kunju Swami, penniless and a quarter-anna short of a train ticket to Tiruvannamalai, stood on the platform thinking only of Bhagavan — and spotted a coin lying between the tracks, the exact sum needed, just as the train arrived.[9] Padma Venkataraman, seized by terror on the desolate Adiannamalai stretch during a pre-dawn giripradakshina, saw a white-clad figure walking steadily ahead of her through the darkness; she followed it until daybreak, when it vanished without trace.[10] N.R. Krishnamurti Aiyer, bedridden and near death, was visited by a friend who happened to be carrying Bhagavan’s vibhuti and kumkum; upon its application, he felt an immediate surge of vitality and was restored to health within weeks.[11] Each encountered Grace as personal, as providential, and unmistakably for them.
And yet.
From the standpoint of the deeper spiritual journey, that same Grace is recognised as something vaster and more radical than personal solicitude. What appeared as guidance was the Self drawing attention inward. What felt like protection was the dispelling of the illusion of separate agency. What seemed like a response to prayer was the revelation that what was sought had always been present — for the prayer itself, as Ramana indicated, was already a manifestation of Grace: “it is by God’s Grace that you think of God.”[12]
The reconciliation here is not intellectual. It does not require the devotee to disown lived experience in favour of an abstract principle. Rather, it asks only this: that the devotee recognise through their personal encounter the stirring of a depth that transcends the personal altogether. What appears as aid to an individual from without is, in truth, the Heart loosening the bonds of separation from within.
From the perspective of the devotee, Grace appears intimate and responsive — an answer to a call, a hand extended in a moment of darkness and confusion. Seen more deeply, this intimate responsiveness is recognised as the inward, dissolving movement — the silent current that is never truly centred on anyone, because there is never anyone apart from it. These are not two different Graces, nor two phases of Grace, the lesser yielding to the greater. They are the same reality, perceived from different depths. As Ramana once said: “Grace is in the beginning, middle and end. Grace is the Self… Manifestation of the Self is a manifestation of Grace and vice versa. All these doubts arise because of the wrong outlook and consequent expectation of things external to oneself. Nothing is external to the Self.”[13] Even the feeling of distance from Grace is its appearing under the conditions of apparent separation — the underlying current remaining changeless, unceasing, and unbounded.
Grace meets devotees where they are. But it never leaves them where they are.
What is first experienced as Grace by someone — answering, guiding, protecting — matures, as the heart ripens, into Grace no longer appearing to anyone at all. The tenderness does not diminish; the intimacy does not fade. What falls away is only the frame in which intimacy seemed to entail an other.
So far, we have traced the movement of this deeper reality as it appears to the individual — as the impulse that turns the seeker inward, as the force sustaining enquiry and surrender, as the intimacy that connects with the devotee in the heart. In each of these, the same recognition that was visible in Ramana’s realization — that the consummation belongs to the Self, not to the one who underwent it — has been gathering.
What appears as Grace’s action upon the individual is the Self’s own movement within itself. The devotee’s experience of the Guru as guide and protector has not been displaced by this recognition. It has been deepened. For the Guru is none other than the Self, manifesting in a form that the heart can encounter.
This inward arc does not rest here. It opens onto the ground where the distinction between seeker and Guru no longer holds. Grace there is both the seeking and the sought.
(To be continued)
1 Sastri, K., Sat-Darshana Bhashya, “The Talks: Vichara and the Grace”. ↩
2 See The Mountain Path, April 2026. Readers coming to this article fresh may find it useful to begin with Satguru Ramana. ↩
3 Muruganar, S., Guru Vachaka Kovai, Verse 727. ↩
4 The desire for liberation — mumukṣutva — is listed in classical Advaita Vedanta among the prerequisites (sādhana-catuṣṭaya) for self-knowledge. Ramana inverted this: the longing is not a qualification the aspirant must bring, but itself is evidence of Grace already at work. ↩
5 Swarnagiri, R., Crumbs from His Table, section 8. ↩
6 Sastri, K., Sat-Darshana Bhashya, “Talks with Maharshi: Vichara and the Grace”. ↩
7 Mudaliar, D., Day by Day with Bhagavan, 2-7-46. ↩
8 Mudaliar, D., My Recollections of Bhagavan Sri Ramana, Ch. IV. ↩
9 Kunju Swami, Reminiscences of Kunju Swami, 3. Miraculous coincidences on my way to Tiruvannamalai. ↩
10 Narain, L., Face to Face with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Ch. 187. ↩
11 Narain, L., Face to Face with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Ch. 48. ↩
12 Venkataramiah M., Talks with Śri Ramaṇa Maharshi, Talk 73. ↩
13 Venkataramiah M., Talks with Śri Ramaṇa Maharshi, Talk 157. ↩
Whenever I am in the meditation hall, I first take some time to look at Bhagavan’s painting. For a few moments, I keep my eyes firmly fixed on his serene, paternal gaze. I try to imagine him sitting right there, sharing his look of grace with this young aspirant. This morning, before beginning to write, I did the same. Thoughts were rushing through my head like clouds obstructing the sunlight. Suddenly I felt a warmth on my face. The sound of a hand fanning swiftly. Wafts of frankincense floating into my nose. I inhaled a deep breath of the sacred vapour, hoping it would purify my restless body-mind from the inside.
When I opened my eyes, I squinted. A shaft of sunlight fell right through the ceiling window onto the spot where I was seated. A thousand specks of dust were dancing joyously in its radiant beam. It felt like a reminder: Bhagavan’s light is with you. His divine grace is always shining, without fail. The question is: Where is your attention? Are you silent enough to attune yourself to the incessant flow of grace? Or are your thoughts casting shadows over the sunlight? To put it in the words of a Sufi poet: “You are a veil unto yourself / The Truth is in you — but where are you?”
Who am I to write anything on the topic of Bhagavan’s grace in my life? Surely there must be many long-standing devotees who have more to say about this. So says the mind. It is good to remind myself that Bhagavan never distinguished between his devotees. To him, all were the same. All were the Self. It is only the mind that compares, judges, and separates. First it creates an imaginary self and then it does all it can to put it down, to self-judge, to blame and criticise.
If I look closely at my life, the thread of Bhagavan’s grace becomes abundantly visible — the very thread that compelled me to come and settle at the feet of Arunachala last year. The 35-year-old body I inhabit came into the world with a serious health condition, a malformation of the oesophagus. Once, as my parents took me out for a walk in the pram, the little baby boy that was me suddenly stopped breathing. When my father frantically tried to resuscitate me, a passerby immediately pushed him aside and shouted “I am a pediatrician, I know what to do!” The doctor took over and placed his hands on my little chest. Had this man not appeared out of nowhere at that instant, I might not have survived.
I grew up as an only child in a little town in the Northwest of Germany. The most obvious gift of grace is the fact that I was raised in a spiritual family. My parents are both teachers of yoga and meditation, blessed by their association with numerous gurus and masters. During most of my school vacations, we would travel to India where I developed a deep love for the divine. At our home, a smell of incense always hung in the air. On Thursdays, we would sing mantras and bhajans with a group of friends. There was a statue of Nataraja on the bookshelf in our living room, not unlike the one in the Matrubhuteshwar Temple.
It was completely normal to speak about God in our home. Food was always blessed with a prayer. I learnt that there is a profound unity underlying all spiritual traditions, which made it easy for me to reconcile my grandfather’s Christian faith (he was a Protestant minister) with my parents’ roots in Indian spirituality and my later interest in the Sufi philosophy of Rumi — all of these are like different strands of spiritual knowledge that I now see united in the teachings of Bhagavan.
The atmosphere of spirituality in my parental home was in stark contrast to the atmosphere at school. My classmates had no interest in spiritual matters. Their world revolved around movies, parties and football (which I was not good at). Even speaking of God was a taboo in the hyper-rationalised culture of Germany. I consider it Bhagavan’s grace that despite adverse influences, I never lost touch with the divine. The spiritual quest always remained at the center of my life — like a compass that pointed me in the direction of Arunachala-Ramana.
“This is the end of the spiritual road,” someone once told me about Ramana’s teachings, as I was sipping chai at the tea stall across from the ashram. It was in 2013, at the age of 21, that I first came to Sri Ramanasramam. Although the peripheral details of my first visit are blurry, I clearly remember sensing a deep familiarity in the heart when my feet touched the soil of the ashram. A feeling that I had arrived. My heart deeply resonated with the purity of Bhagavan’s presence. Something in me knew that I had found my home.
There were numerous visits to Tiruvannamalai in the following years during which the feeling of having come home was strengthened. But it was only when I plunged into a “dark night of the soul” in my 30th year that my relationship with Bhagavan began to grow into an unshakable bond. During this period of disorientation and inner turmoil — one of those times when we seem to be catapulted towards inner growth and spiritual transformation — Bhagavan graced me with a dream.
In that dream he sat across from me. It felt like I was sitting with an intimate friend. There was no hierarchy of guru and disciple, just the intimacy of his gaze that transcends all divisions. Looking deep into my eyes, he calmly said: “Whatever I say, it is only you who are speaking to yourself.” I woke up from the dream with a feeling of great reassurance. It was as if he had planted in me a seed of knowing that I already carry everything within me. It is the same reassurance which I feel now when I gaze at his painting, when a sudden flash of joyful realisation touches my heart: He is me! There indeed is no separation between us.
The gaps between my visits to Sri Ramanasramam shortened. In 2025, I felt called to make Tiruvannamalai my home. I felt a deep sense of gratitude when the energy of restless seeking became more and more still in me — because once we are placed in the orbit of Bhagavan and his teachings, what else is there to seek?
At a moment when the world around us seems to be sinking increasingly into darkness, it is pure grace that gives me the chance to immerse myself in the light of Arunachala-Ramana. In these days, when ignorance and divisions among human beings are on the rise, it feels like Bhagavan’s grace has blessed me with ample time to be quiet and anchor myself in the Self… as he always asserted, there is no greater service we can do for the world than tending to our own self-realisation. But tell that to my German peers! My choice of lifestyle in Tiruvannamalai is difficult to convey in a culture that is so exclusively built on the imperative of incessant work and worldly achievement.
Even for me, the shift from doing to being has been a gradual process. I am learning to let the doing emerge from being, to make an effortless effort, to detach from the narrow ‘I’ that wants to run the show. Old habits pull me into forgetfulness. More and more, I can see that overcoming these tendencies is only possible if I attune myself to his grace. If I call on his support and surrender myself. Patience and self-acceptance seem to be important ingredients on this journey. I try to do my best, and the rest I can only leave to his will.
Sometimes, on the path of the sadhak, it can indeed seem as if grace is not on our side, as if all the forces of the world are up against us. I have often felt stuck in my journey: engulfed by thoughts, swayed by moods, tired with boredom. But even in such moments when grace is not perceived, some rays of light would eventually fall through the ceiling to remind me that even “the very fact that you are possessed of the quest for the Self is a manifestation of the Divine Grace (Arul)” — as Bhagavan says in Sat Darshana Bhashya. “It is effulgent in the Heart, the inner being, the Real Self. It draws you from within.”[1]
1 Sat Darshana Bhashya and Talks with Maharshi, p. 5, Sri Ramanasramam 2015. ↩
The following records, drawn from multiple sources and years, trace the recognition of Sri Ramana Maharshi’s Grace from the standpoint of those who experienced and lived it.
Seeking Grace
Source: Venkataramiah M., Talks with Śri Ramaṇa Maharṣi
Talk 618
D.: Doubts are always arising. Hence my question.
M.: A doubt arises and is cleared; another arises and that is cleared, making way for another, and so it goes on. So there is no possibility of clearing away all doubts. See to whom the doubts arise. Go to their source and abide in it. Then they cease to arise. That is how doubts are to be cleared.
D.: Grace alone can help me to it.
M.: Grace is not exterior. In fact your very desire for grace is due to grace that is already in you.
Grace Seeming Unavailable
Source: Narasimha Swami, B., Self-Realisation.
A year later Natesa Mudaliar[1] opened his mouth and asked Maharshi: “I wish to learn and experience what your anugraham is, as people differ in their accounts of it.” Maharshi replied: “I am always giving my anugraham. If you cannot apprehend it, what am I to do?” Natesa Mudaliar understood thereby that his silent samadhi was itself anugraham which all aspirants should aspire for, contact, and get into.
Some time later Natesa Mudaliar came again to Maharshi. Some highly gifted persons were comparing notes with the Maharshi about their advanced experiences in matters spiritual, i.e., in the highest reaches of the soul’s flight. Sitting very near and drinking in every word through his ears, Natesa Mudaliar was aghast. The words he heard were easy, well-known Tamil or Sanskrit words. But their sense was far above him. The talk was all far, far above him. A great sorrow overwhelmed his soul. “Shall I or shall I never have these experiences, now or in any future birth?” Thus he thought within himself. His dejection must have caught the master’s keen eye; as after the visitors left, Maharshi said to him: “Why are you dejected? What you seek is that which is always ready (siddha) at hand. Can anyone feel anxious, whether he will get what exists always? Do you feel just now that you have not got possession of it, i.e., that it is not in the palm of your hand? If it is not clear today it will be clear to you tomorrow. Why should you be downcast over such a matter? If you were really unfit to have it how could the thought of seeing great ones have occurred to you?” Peace entered his soul immediately.
Grace is Always There - I
Source: Nagamma S., Letters from Sri Ramanasramam.
(108) A BOUQUET OF PRECEPTS[2]
Yesterday morning, a group of Andhras arrived, and started questioning Bhagavan within ten minutes of their arrival.
Question: “Bhagavan teaches us always to know ourselves. He should kindly teach us how to know ourselves, and bless us.”
Bhagavan’s reply: “The kindness is always there. You should ask for something that is not there, and not for something that is there already. You should believe with all your heart that the kindness is there. That is all.”
Grace is Always There - II
Source: Mudaliar, D., Day by Day with Bhagavan.
19-10-45, morning
A barrister from Bombay asked Bhagavan, “I have tried Bhagavan’s method for about six years and yet I have not made any progress. When I meditate, other thoughts come. For people like me, living in cities and doing our work and coming here only occasionally, what sadhana would Bhagavan advise so that we may succeed better than I have so far been able to do?”
Bhagavan: Your real nature is always there, your meditation, etc., come only temporarily. Reality being your Self, there is nothing for you to realise. All that is required is that you should give up regarding the unreal as real, which is what all are doing. The object of all meditation, dhyana or japa is only that, to give up all thoughts regarding the not-self, to give up many thoughts and to keep to the one thought. As for sadhana, there are many methods. You may do vichara, asking yourself “Who am I?” or, if that does not appeal to you, you may do dhyana “I am Brahman” or otherwise, or you may concentrate on a mantra or name in japa. The object is to make the mind one-pointed, to concentrate it on one thought and thus exclude our many thoughts, and if we do this, eventually even the one thought will go and the mind will get extinguished in its source.
Visitor: In actual practice I find I am not able to succeed in my efforts. Unless Bhagavan’s Grace descends on me I cannot succeed.
Bhagavan: Guru’s Grace is always there. You imagine it is something, somewhere high up in the sky, far away, and has to descend. It is really inside you, in your Heart, and the moment you effect subsidence or merger of the mind into its source, the Grace rushes forth, spouting as from a spring, from within you.
Grace is Always There - III
Source: Osborne, A., “Bhagavan Ramana: His Silent Upadesa,” The Mountain Path, June 1999.
A. Bose, a Bengali industrialist, as recorded by S. S. Cohen, once tried to elicit a precise statement. He said, “I am convinced that a guru is necessary for the success of the aspirant’s efforts.” Then he added, with a quizzical smile, “Does Bhagavan feel for us?”
But Sri Bhagavan turned the tables on him, “Practice is necessary for you; the Grace is always there.” After a short silence he added, “You are neck deep in water and yet you cry out that you are thirsty.”
Grace is Always There - IV
Source: Venkataramiah M., Talks with Śri Ramaṇa Maharṣi
Talk 425
D.: Is success not dependent on Guru’s Grace?
M.: Yes, it is. Is not your practice itself due to such Grace? The fruits are the result of the practice and follow it automatically. There is a stanza in Kaivalya which says, “O Guru! You have been always with me watching me through several reincarnations, and ordaining my course until I was liberated.” The Self manifests externally as Guru when occasion arises; otherwise He is always within, doing the needful.
The Grip of Divine Grace
Source: G. L. N., “Easy Yet Difficult,” The Mountain Path, January 1966[3]
My contact with him began in 1930. It was by Divine Providence, not by my planning, that I was able to spend a continuous period of three years at Sri Ramanasramam. It was a great blessing…
The essence of what Bhagavan said to me in my talks with him was: “You say that on final analysis all that I see or think or do is one; but that really comprises two notions: the all that is seen and the I that does the seeing, thinking and doing, and says ‘I’. Which of these two is the more real, true and important? Obviously the seer, since the seen is dependent on it. So turn your attention to the seer who is the source of your ‘I’ and realize that. This is the real task. Up to now you have been studying the object, not the subject; now find out for what reality this word ‘I’ stands. Find the entity which is the source of the expression ‘I’. That is the Self, the Self of all selves.”
This direct, simple teaching was like a tonic to me. It swept away the unrest and confusion that till then had haunted my mind. The simplicity of it made me burst out: “Then Bhagavan, Self-realisation is very easy, just as you say in the poem Atma Vidya!”
Bhagavan smiled and said: “Yes, yes, it seems so at first, but there is difficulty too. You have to overcome your present false values and wrong identification. Therefore the quest requires concentrated effort and steadfast abidance in the Source when this is reached.”
However, even while warning me, he also added words of solace: “But don’t let that deter you. The rise of the urge to seek for the ‘I’ is itself an act of Divine Grace. Once this urge gets hold of you, you are in its clutches. The grip of Divine Grace never relaxes and finally devours you, just as the prey in a tiger’s jaws is never allowed to escape.”
The Hidden Action of Grace
Source: Cohen, S., Guru Ramana, Residual Reminiscences
Four, five, six months have elapsed since my arrival. I waited, but began to notice a new turn in the working of my mind, a thing which I had not felt before, a peculiar, slow but extremely subtle movement was taking place within my consciousness and I wondered what it could be, and whether the Maharshi was aware of it as well. Seeing me from close quarters, always near the foot of his couch, I thought, was easier for him to guess than if I were at greater distance. Obviously, the notion that the guru always watched his disciples continued lurking in my head. But in fact, as I discovered later, Bhagavan was doing nothing of the kind. He was Supreme Detachment incarnate.
The strict aloofness which appeared to me at first as sheer callousness on the part of the Maharshi, standing against the traditional concern said to be shown by the gurus to promote the spiritual advancement of their disciples, turned out across the years to be more potent in its action to purify, reform, guide and mature the disciples’ consciousness than the guru’s conscious interference.
Mr. V. Krithivasan is a highly accomplished author of many articles and was the editor of Ramana Jyothi, the magazine of the Ramana Kendram in Hyderabad. He has been associated with the Kendram in various capacities for over forty years.
The State of Pure Awareness
The perspective of Bhagavan (and Advaita Vedanta at large) regarding creation is very profound — the world is only a product of the perceiving mind. The world is that which is ‘seen’. (The Sanskrit word for world is loka and it is derived from the act of seeing – lokyate iti lokah). Lakshmana Sarma captures this teaching very elegantly in the following verse:
दृष्टेर्न सृष्टिः पृथगस्ति काचिद् दृष्टिश्च सृष्टिर्द्वयमेकमेव।
दृष्टेर्विरामो निधनं हि नान्यन्नश्येद्धि विश्वं निजतत्त्वबोधात्।। 147
dṛṣṭerna sṛṣṭiḥ pṛthagasti kācid dṛṣṭiśca sṛṣṭirdvayamekameva|
dṛṣṭervirāmo nidhanaṃ hi nānyannaśyeddhi viśvaṃ
nijatattvabodhāt||
Creation is not other than seeing; seeing and creation are one and the same process. Annihilation is only the cessation of seeing and nothing else; for the world comes to an end by the right awareness of Oneself.
When the Self is realized, everything shines as the Self and the vision of the world as a separate Reality ceases. Advaita Vedanta calls this nija tattva bodham, or right awareness. The following conversations with Bhagavan throw more light on this subject:
Q: What is the relation between mind and object? Is the mind contacting something different from it, viz., the world?
Maharshi: The world is ‘sensed’ in the waking and the dream states or is the object of perception and thought, both being mental activities. If there were no such activities as waking and dreaming thought, there would be no ‘perception’ or inference of a ‘world’. In sleep there is no such activity and ‘objects and world’ do not exist for us in sleep. Hence ‘reality of the world’ may be created by the ego by its act of emergence from sleep; and that reality may be swallowed up or disappear by the soul resuming its nature in sleep. The emergence and disappearance of the world are like the spider producing a gossamer web and then withdrawing it.[1]
Maharshi: The Vedanta says that the cosmos springs into view simultaneously with the seer. There is no detailed process of creation. This is said to be yugapat srshti (instantaneous creation). It is quite similar to the creations in dream where the experiencer springs up simultaneously with the objects of experience. When this is told, some people are not satisfied for they are so rooted in objective knowledge. They seek to find out how there can be sudden creation. They argue that an effect must be preceded by a cause. In short, they desire an explanation for the existence of the world which they see around them. Then the Srutis try to satisfy their curiosity by such theories of creation. This method of dealing with the subject of creation is called krama srshti (gradual creation). But the true seeker can be content with yugapat srshti - instantaneous creation.[2]
In Arunachala Pancharatnam, Sri Bhagavan says: ‘The world vision is ‘swallowed up’ when realization dawns; the dazzling brilliance of Arunachala (same as the Self) obscures the universe’. Muruganar conveys this same truth in Padamalai:
சொரூபவறி வாமெய்ச் சுடரொளியான் முற்றத்
திரோதயமா யிவ்வுலகஞ் சின்மயமாம் பாதம்[3]
Soroopavari vaameich chudaroLiyan mutrat
Tirodayamaa yivvulagam chinmayamaam paadam
Through that true effulgent light, which is the knowledge of the Self, the world will be entirely eclipsed, becoming pure Consciousness.
The Nature of Reality
One question that Sri Bhagavan encountered quite often was, “If the world we see in front of us is not real, what is real?” His response was in accord with the very precise standard for what is real according to Advaita Vedanta: a) It must be real at all times, in all places; b) It must never undergo any changes; c) It must be self-revealing — that is, it must not depend on anything else to be known or perceived. Only the Self can meet this standard. The world, the body, the mind, etc., come and go. The Self, which is the eternal witness of all these, is the only unchanging reality. Lakshmana Sarma describes this succinctly in the following verse:
भासा स्वया यद्विलसत्यजस्रं विना विकारं च लयोदयाभ्याम्।
तदेव सत्यं हि ततोऽन्यथा तु सर्वं मृषैवेति वदन्ति बुद्धाः।। 153
bhāsā svayā yadvilasatyajasraṃ vinā vikāraṃ ca
layodayābhyām|
tadeva satyaṃ hi tato’nyathā tu sarvaṃ mṛṣaiveti vadanti
buddhāḥ||
That which shines by its own light (of Consciousness) without change, and without setting and rising, is alone Real. All that is not so is unreal. So say the sages.
Sri Bhagavan has emphasized this point in numerous conversations.
D.: What is reality?
M.: Reality must be always real. It is not with forms and names. That which underlies these is the Reality. It underlies limitations, being itself limitless. It is not bound. It underlies unrealities, itself being real. Reality is that which is. It is as it is. It transcends speech, beyond the expressions, e.g., existence, non-existence, etc.[4]
D.: What is the nature of the Reality?
M.: (a) Existence without beginning or end - eternal.
(b) Existence everywhere, endless, infinite.
(c) Existence underlying all forms, all changes, all forces, all matter and all spirit. The many change and pass away (phenomena), whereas the One always endures (noumenon).
(d) The one displacing the triads, i.e., the knower, the knowledge and the known. The triads are only appearances in time and space, whereas the Reality lies beyond and behind them. They are like a mirage over the Reality. They are the result of delusion.[5]
As recorded in Talks: “Mr. P. Brunton, while reading Upadesa Manjari, came across the statement that the ego, the world and God are all unreal. He desired to use a different word for God or at least a qualifying adjective, e.g., the Creative Force or personal God.
Sri Bhagavan explained that God means Samashti - i.e., all that is, plus the Be-ing - in the same way as ‘I’ means the individual plus the Be-ing, and the world means the variety plus Be-ing. The Be-ing is in all cases real. The all, the variety and the individual is in each case unreal. So also in the union of the real and the unreal, the mixing up or the false identification is wrong. It amounts to saying sad-asadvilakshana, i.e., transcending the real and the unreal - sat and asat. Reality is that which transcends all concepts, including that of God. Inasmuch as the name of God is used, it cannot be true. The Hebrew word Jehovah = (I am) expresses God correctly. Absolute Be-ing is beyond expression.”[6]
The unreal has no existence; the Real never ceases to be
कदाऽप्यसत्यस्य भवेन्न सत्ता भवेदसत्ता न सतः कदाऽपि।
इत्येवमूचे सदसद्विवेकं गीतासु कृष्णो भगवान् स्वयं हि।। 154
kadā’pyasatyasya bhavenna sattā bhavedasattā na sataḥ kadā’pi|
ityevamūce sadasadvivekaṃ gītāsu kṛṣṇo bhagavān svayaṃ hi||
‘There is never any (real) existence for the unreal, neither is there any non-existence for the Real’. Thus Bhagavan Sri Krishna Himself stated the distinction between the real and the unreal.
In this verse, Lakshmana Sarma references the sixteenth verse in Chapter 2 of the Bhagavad Gita. He also uses different words to express the same profound truth.
नासतो विद्यते भावो नाभावो विद्यते सतः।
उभयोरपि दृष्टोऽन्तस्त्वनयोस्तत्त्वदर्शिभिः।।[7]
nāsato vidyate bhāvo nābhāvo vidyate sataḥ|
ubhayorapi dṛṣṭo’ntastvanayostattvadarśibhiḥ||
The unreal has no existence and the real never ceases to exist. The truth about both has been seen by the wise.
Things that are temporary (like the physical body, material objects and the world as such) are unreal, asat. They undergo changes all the time. They come into existence, undergo transformations like growth and decay, and in the end cease to exist. They ‘jump’ into the field of existence and jump out of it, in a manner of speaking. Existence is not their ‘intrinsic’ property. Theirs is a ‘borrowed’ existence. Let us take, for example, the boiling of a potato. The potato is kept in water in a vessel and the vessel is heated on a flame to produce the boiled potato. We can see that heat is not intrinsic to the potato; if you take it out of the water, it will lose the heat after a while. The same is true of the water and the vessel too. But heat is ‘intrinsic’ to the flame. In a similar manner, everything borrows existence from ‘sat’ (which goes by names like Atman, Brahman, Supreme Being etc.) and appears to exist for some time, but in the end returns the property of existence to the only true Existent, or sat.
To summarise this verse: Reality is eternal and unchanging; unreality is temporary and has no true existence. Adi Sankara, who wrote a bhashyam (commentary) on the Bhagavad Gita, dwells at length on this hallmark verse of Advaita Vedanta. One interesting point he makes is that every experience has two components, one real and the other which is a superimposition over the real, and is actually unreal. The real element is ‘I am’, which is the primary datum of experience, and the other is the varieties of objective experience. All the objective experiences necessarily depend on the singular ‘I am-ness’, or Consciousness. The jnani remains rooted in this primary datum of experience, whereas the ajnani pays attention to only the constantly changing objective experiences, ignoring the only existent Reality or Atman. The import of this verse directly leads to another extraordinary insight in Advaita, expressed below.
Reality Is Unbroken Existence
आद्यन्तयोर्भाव विवर्जितं यत् मध्येऽपि तद् भाव विहीनमेव।
यद्देशकालप्रमितं विभाति तत्सत्यताधीर्बत मुग्धतैव।। 155
ādyantayorbhāva vivarjitaṃ yat madhye’pi tad bhāva vihīnameva|
yaddeśakālapramitaṃ vibhāti tatsatyatādhīrbata mugdhataiva||
What has no existence in the beginning and will not exist after sometime, is non-existent in the intervening period (during which it seems to exist). The notion that anything which appears limited in space or time is real, is ignorance.
This verse echoes another oft-quoted verse from Gaudapada’s Mandukya Karika:
आदावन्तौ च यन्नास्ति वर्तमानेऽपि तत् तथा[8]
ādāvantau ca yannāsti vartamānepi tat tathā
That which does not exist in the beginning and in the end, does not truly exist even in the present.
This is a singularly insightful expression of Advaita Vedānta that challenges our normally held view of worldly existence. Gaudapada says that the ultimate test for Reality is that it must exist unchanging across the past, present, and future. If something appears only temporarily, it is not ultimately real. This statement challenges the conventional assumption that if something is experienced now, it must be real. The experience of dreams is offered as an example to refute this notion. Dream objects seem real in a dream but this wrong perception is disproven before the dream begins and after it ends. Thus dreams are never truly real. We have no problem accepting this conclusion after we wake up. But this logically leads one to arrive at the uncomfortable truth that even the waking world is similarly unreal, as it is not substantially different from dream. The waking state also does not last. It alternates with the other two states. Things that come and go can only be mere appearances and therefore not real.
The Substratum Alone is Real, Not its Modifications
सुवर्णमासन् रुचकानि पूर्वं तदेव मध्येऽपि तदेव चान्ते।
असन्ति सत्ये विलसन्ति सद्वत् स्वर्णे यदा सन्ति विभूषणानि।। 157
suvarṇamāsan rucakāni pūrvaṃ tadeva madhye’pi tadeva cānte|
asanti satye vilasanti sadvat svarṇe yadā santi vibhūṣaṇāni||
The ornaments were gold before (being made), and they are gold even in the middle (when they appear as ornaments) and also at the end (when they are melted). Thus, the unrealities appear as real on a substratum of the Real, just as unreal ornaments appear as real in a substratum of gold (which is real).
The nature of Reality that is presented in this verse is also the approach taken in the Chandogya Upanishad. This Upanishad brings out the Truth of sat alone being the substratum of everything, through the conversation between Uddalaka and his son Svetaketu. The mahavakya “That thou art” is taught here. Uddalaka tells his son, “ By knowing about a nugget of gold, all things made out of gold are known, as products of gold differ only in name and form. All modifications (like ring, necklace or bangle) are but words; gold alone, as their essence or substratum is real.” Uddalaka then teaches his son the ultimate truth: “In the beginning, there was only Being (sat), without a second. Out of Himself He brought forth the cosmos and entered into everything. There is nothing that does not come from Him. Of everything He is the subtle essence. He is the Truth. He is the Self Supreme. You are That, Svetaketu!”[9]
The whole of Creation is but various modifications of the Self Supreme. That alone is the Substratum, the only Reality. Everything else appears and disappears in the substratum, and as such is not real.
Maharshi: “...wherever there is a sense of separateness from the source there is agitation and movement until the sense of separateness is lost. So it is with yourself. Now that you identify yourself with the body you think that you are separate from the Spirit - the true Self. You must regain your source before the false identity ceases and you are happy.”
Gold is not an ornament, but the ornament is nothing but gold. Whatever shape the ornament may assume and however different the ornaments are, there is only one reality, namely gold. So also with the bodies and the Self. The single reality is the Self.[10]
आत्मा स्वयञ्ज्योतिरहंस्वरूपो भाति स्वभासा हृदि सर्वजन्तोः।
सर्वोप्यतः स्वं समवैति सन्तं नास्मीति को न्वस्ति वदन्नृलोके।। 165
ātmā svayañjyotirahaṃsvarūpo bhāti svabhāsā hṛdi sarvajantoḥ|
sarvopyataḥ svaṃ samavaiti santaṃ nāsmīti ko nvasti
vadannṛloke||
In the heart of every living creature the self-shining Real Self shines by its own light (of consciousness) as ‘I’, and hence everyone knows himself as real. Who is there in the world of men, who says: ‘I do not exist!’
Self, as the sole Reality, reveals itself. It does not need another consciousness for it to be known. Self-knowledge is a direct experience; it is not an inference. For that matter, no other authority (pramanam) is required to know the Self. It is beyond all sources of knowledge.[11] Even though Self escapes all objectification, it cannot escape certainty.[12] Nothing can be more evident than the fact of one’s existence. It is self-evident, immediate and direct. In Devikalottaram, the Lord uses a beautiful phrase to describe this – स्वसंवेद्यं (sva samvedyam) – ‘knows Itself by Itself’.[13]
Maharshi: Objects perceived by the senses are spoken of as immediate knowledge (pratyaksha). Can anything be as direct as the Self - always experienced without the aid of the senses? Sense-perceptions can only be indirect knowledge, and not direct knowledge. Only one’s own awareness is direct knowledge, as is the common experience of one and all. No aids are needed to know one’s own Self, i.e., to be aware.[14]
Maharshi: The feeling ‘The body is I’ is the error. This false sense of ‘I’ must go. The real ‘I’ is always there. It is here and now. It never appears anew and disappears again. That which is must also persist for ever. That which appears anew will also be lost. Compare deep sleep and waking. The body appears in one state but not in the other. Therefore the body will be lost. The consciousness was pre-existent and will survive the body. In fact, there is no one who does not say ‘I am’. The wrong knowledge of ‘I am the body’ is the cause of all the mischief. This wrong knowledge must go. That is Realisation. Realisation is not acquisition of anything new, nor it is a new faculty. It is only removal of all camouflage.[15]
मन्ये ततोऽस्मीत्यनुभूयते तु वृत्त्या धियः कैश्चन नैजसत्ता।
अमी गजं यान्तमुपेक्ष्य मन्दाः पदानि वीक्ष्य प्रतियन्ति पश्चात्।। 166
manye tato’smītyanubhūyate tu vṛttyā dhiyaḥ kaiścana naijasattā|amī gajaṃ yāntamupekṣya mandāḥ padāni vīkṣya pratiyanti paścāt||
The existence of their own Self is inferred by some from mental functioning, by the reasoning: ‘I think, therefore I am.’ These men are like those dull-witted ones who ignore the elephant when it goes past and become convinced afterwards by looking at the footprints!
Lakshmana Sarma takes a dig at the French Philosopher Rene Descartes, who famously stated, “I think, therefore I am”! Vedanta exposes the faulty logic of this statement by drawing attention to the question: “What is truly fundamental: thinking, or pure existence-consciousness?” Can thinking happen without ‘being’? Thinking is absolutely dependent on the fact of one’s own existence. On the other hand, ‘being’ is present all the time, even when thinking ceases, like during deep sleep, swoon, or in samadhi. Being (pure consciousness) is the ground on which thought appears.
Therefore, Descartes’ logic that ‘Thinking proves existence’ is totally contradicted by Vedanta, which says ‘Existence is primary and thinking is secondary. Thinking is not necessary for existence.’ Moreover, Descartes implies that the thinking mind itself is the Self, whereas Vedanta says that the Self is the witness of thoughts appearing and disappearing in the mind. Consciousness is immediate and self-evident, not logically derived. In other words, Consciousness is self-revealing and it does not need proof of its existence from the activity of thinking (which itself is founded on Consciousness). Lakshmana Sarma uses an analogy to drive home the point: the faulty logic of the French philosopher is like the one who missed the elephant when it walked past in plain sight, but later tried to prove that an elephant must have gone past by looking at the footprints! Thinking is the footprints in the analogy and the mighty elephant is the Self.
1 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No 25. ↩
2 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No 651. ↩
3 Muruganar, Ramana Padamalai, Verse 2331. ↩
4 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No 140. ↩
5 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No. 28. ↩
6 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No.112. ↩
7 Bhagavad Gita, Ch 2-16. ↩
8 Gauda Pada Karika, Ch2-8. ↩
9 Chandogya Upanishad, Extracts of 6-1-6 to 6-8-7. ↩
10 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No. 396. ↩
11 In Vedanta, six categories of sources of knowledge are mentioned: perception, inference, verbal testimony, comparison, presumption and non-cognition. Self transcends all these. ↩
12 TMP Mahadevan, Sri Ramana Maharshi and the Philosophy of Existence. ↩
13 Devikalottaram, Jnanachara Vichara, Verse 19. ↩
14 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No 92. ↩
15 Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk No 96. ↩
B.K. Croissant was caught in the jaws of the tiger in 1995. Since then her quest has been unceasing inner worship.
Who can know the jñāni? Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi poses that question in verse 31 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu: “When it (the Reality) surges forth and appears (as ‘I-I’), for Him (the Jñāni) who enjoys the bliss of Self, which has (thus) risen by destroying the (individual) self (the ego), what single thing exists to do? He does not know anything other than Self (which shines as the one reality); (therefore) how to (or who can) conceive what His state is?”[1]
Muruganar, whose elegant Tamil verses in Guru Vācaka Kovai reflect in poetry words spoken by the Master, elaborates on that Truth: “The quintessentially pure mind of the jñāni is like space, shining as the witness without any attachment to anything. It acts like a mirror, reflecting in itself even the thoughts of the ajñānis who come to him, which are filled with the defects of their distorted minds. Therefore the minds of people become confused, thinking that jñānis are in the grip of some kind of delusion. Jñānis dwell established in their natural state (sahaja niṣṭhā), transcending even the highest of the three guṇas, the sattva guṇa. (However) in the eyes of ajñānis, whose judgment is clouded by the sense of doership (kartṛtva), it appears that they exhibit rajasic qualities that are filled with flaws. [But that is just a reflection of the rajasic mental activity of the observers.] Therefore do not on that account doubt the realisation (jñāna) of those sahaja niṣṭhās.”[2] In other words, as Bhagavan says, the eye that sees is not different from the seer. Can the sight be otherwise than the eye?[3] Therefore, only a jñāni can know a jñāni.
This is the fifth and final article of a series dedicated to various verses from Ramana Maharshi’s Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu Anubandham or Supplement to Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu, his lofty forty verses on Reality. In each instance, they are studied by comparing the original Sanskrit verses to his Tamil translations. The subject of the first article is verses 9, 25 and 40, which Bhagavan viewed as a free-standing poem in praise of ātman, the Self, and the second features verses 1 through 5 that extol the supreme virtue of association with Sages. The third article treats verses 26 and 27 that are derived from Sanskrit verses in the Yoga Vāsiṣṭha in which Sage Vasistha instructs Rama on how one should conduct oneself in the world when knowing one’s true nature or ātma svarūpa, and the fourth article Bhagavan’s adaptation of four verses on the Heart, verses 21-24 that are also taken from the Yoga Vāsiṣṭha. This article focuses on the nature of the jñāni as described in verses 28-30.[4]
Some claim that the source of verse 28 in the Anubandham is a Sanskrit verse from the Yoga Vāsiṣṭha, others that its origin is unknown. Between 1928 and 1931 Bhagavan explained the significance of the Sanskrit verse to Muruganar who composed verses 1030 and 1031 in the Guru Vāchaka Kovai as a summary of his words. Bhagavan simplified those two verses in his own composition (B20 in Guru Vāchaka Kovai) that became verse 28 in the Anubandam.
विषयप्रतिसंहारं यः करोति विवेकतः
मृत्योर्मृत्युरिति ख्यातः स विद्वानात्मवित्कविः ।
ज्ञानसद्भावसंस्थानो ज्ञानाग्निर्ज्ञानवज्रभृत्
मृत्युहन्तेति विख्यातो महावीरो विमत्सरः ॥
viṣaya-pratisaṁhāraṁ yaḥ karoti vivekataḥ
mṛtyor mṛtyur iti khyātaḥ sa vidvān ātmavit kaviḥ |
jñāna-sad-bhāva-saṁsthāno jñānāgnir jñāna-vajrabhṛt
mṛtyu-hanteti vikhyāto mahā-vīro vimatsaraḥ ||
He who vanquishes sense objects through discrimination, firmly established in the real state of knowledge, is a knower of the Atman, wise, a poet, declared as the ‘death of death’. He is the fire of knowledge, the bearer of the thunderbolt of knowledge, renowned as the ‘destroyer of death’, and a great hero who is desireless.[5]
Tamil version
Whoever is one who has destroyed the senses by knowledge, one who is fixed firmly as existence-awareness, is a self-knower; he is the fire of knowledge; one who wields the thunderbolt that is knowledge; declare that he, Kalakalan, is the hero who has killed death.[6]
[On the whole, what stands out in comparing Bhagavan’s adaptation to the original Sanskrit verse is his clarity, precision and economy of words. Although the meaning is the same between them, the Sanskrit verse drives its point home through enumeration and repetition. Bhagavan’s version carries a great sense of authority.]
T.R. Kanakammal says in her commentary that “The mighty glory of sages, ever in the liberated state of the supreme Self, is difficult to be brought within the domain of speech. This verse dwells on their greatness so that the seekers may comprehend it to some extent.” Later she exclaims “This verse proclaims that a jñāni alone is truly a subject fit to be glorified with epithets like ‘a valiant hero’, ‘the brave one’, ‘the wise one’, and ‘the powerful’.”[7]
Sadhu Om summarizes the beauty and meaning of this verse perfectly. “The Atma-jnani is not merely an incarnation of any particular God; The Jnani is Jnana itself, and hence He is the reality of all Gods such as Agni, Indra, and Lord Siva. Since the Jnani burnt ignorance (ajnana) to ashes, He is Himself the fire of knowledge (jnanagni). And since, having given up the identification with the body, which is limited by time and subject to death, He shines as the timeless and deathless Self, He is Himself Lord Siva, the destroyer of time (kalakalan) and the killer of death. Since the Jnani has conquered the senses, through which the appearance of the universe is projected, He has in truth conquered the whole universe. Therefore, since there is no power in the entire universe greater than the power of the Jnani’s firm Self-abidance, His self-abidance is described as the thunderbolt of knowledge (jnana-vajrayudha).”[8]
Think about the significance and incredible power of this verse. By destroying the ego, which projects the entire universe and all that is perceived by the senses, the jñāni is victorious beyond measure. Only knowledge can destroy ignorance, and when that ignorance is vanquished by turning inward in search of the ego’s source, only the substratum remains, shining and forever glorious, pervading all and transcending the mind with all its limitations, including time and death.
Verse 29 is a continuation of the state of the jñāni and is based on verse 5.76.20 from the Yoga Vāsiṣṭha.
बलं बुद्धिश्च तेजश्च दृष्टतत्त्वस्य वर्धते |
सवसन्तस्य वृक्षस्य सौन्दर्याद्या गुणा इव ॥
balaṁ buddhiś ca tejaś ca dṛṣṭa-tattvasya vardhate |
savasantasya vṛkṣasya saundaryādyā guṇā iva ||
The power, the intellect, and the brilliance of the one who has seen Reality increases like qualities such as the beauty of a tree at spring time.
Tamil version
Brightness and strength of intellect will increase automatically for those who have seen the reality, just like trees shining with all good qualities such as beauty as soon as spring arrives on this earth. Know.
[Clearly Bhagavan loves this verse because he expanded it with details not included in the Sanskrit version that add to its impact. For example, ‘trees shining’ and ‘as soon as spring arrives on this earth’. The most powerful addition, however, is ‘automatically’. When the ego disappears, that which remains, namely grace, springs forth spontaneously bringing waves of bliss to the seeker, bliss in which the jñāni is ever totally absorbed. The verse ends with tēr, meaning ‘know’, calling our attention to the meaning and inviting us to reflect on it with heart.]
Here are Lakshmana Sarma’s comments. “The notion that the vision of the (tattva) Principle or the Experience of being the Self is tantamount to self-destruction and that it is a void is misconceived. A seer of Truth shines in all splendour with many excellences like sharpness of intellect, etc. than ever before, due to his Fullness of Knowledge and Power. It is a matter of direct perception by all that a Seer of Truth who appeared just an ordinary human being like any other before Enlightenment, shining with the resplendence of the Light of the Self after the Experience attracts and claims as his own countless disciples.”[9]
Kanakammal expounds on the verse thus: “True vision of Truth lies in the loss of the terrible ego. It is sometimes called ‘All void’. This verse proves the folly of conceiving it as a state of sunya. This verse brings out in picturesque parlance that all qualities like wisdom, power and sharpness of subtle intelligence glow with extraordinary ebullience in one after the experience of jñāna, in stark contrast to the state prior to the gain of jñāna.”[10]
Here she gets very personal. “The most exalted sadhana was to merely be in his holy presence. A mere glance of his--like a radiant sun--made the devotees immortal by bestowing on them Supreme Awareness; the light of Truth within each was lit up and shone by itself, converting a mind dissipated with desires into a temple of divinity.”[11]
Verse 30 is Bhagavan’s summary of two verses, 1133 and 1134, in Guru Vācaka Kovai and an adaptation of two verses in Yoga Vāsiṣṭha (5.56.13 and 5.56.14).
अकर्तृ कुर्वदप्येतच्चेतः प्रतनुवासनम् ।
दूरं गतमना जन्तु: कथासंश्रवणे यथा ॥
akartṛ kurvad apy etaccetaḥ pratanu-vāsanam |
duraṁ gata-manā jantuḥ kathā-saṁśravaṇe yathā ||
The awareness with weakened inclinations is not an agent even though acting. It is just like a person whose mind has gone far away when listening to a story.
अकुर्वदपि कर्त्रेव चेतः प्रघनवासनम् ।
निष्पन्दाण्गमपि स्वप्ने श्वभ्रपातस्थिताविव ॥
akurvad api kartreva cetaḥ praghana-vāsanam |
niṣpandāṅgam api svapne śvabhra-pāta-sthitāv iva ||
The awareness with expanding inclinations is indeed an agent of action though doing nothing. It is just like a motionless body falling into a pit in a dream.
Tamil version
Like those who hear a story, the mind going far away, the mind in which vāsanās have been erased is actually not doing even though doing. The mind that those soak is actually doing even though not doing; even though movement has ceased here, in dream climbing a hill one falls in a pit.
[‘Weakened inclinations’ become ‘the mind in which vāsanās have been erased’, and ‘expanding inclinations’ are ‘the mind that those soak’. There is intended emphasis here that is undeniable. We are meant to pay attention, even if we are not aware of the original Sanskrit verse.]
This verse makes clear that doership cannot be determined by actions, since the jñāni acting is not bound, but by vāsanās, which make us appear to be bound, even when performing no actions. The paradoxical analogies here, comparing a jñāni to someone who is acting but not acting, and a jīva to someone acting although motionless, are striking. Most importantly, we are led to consider the perspective of the jñāni. As a result of the ego’s total destruction, the entire world has absolutely no existence and is not even seen. Having lost the ego’s objectivity, the jñani, who knows only the One absolute consciousness with no second, literally does not see, an unimaginable state unless it is experienced.
Muruganar expresses the state of the jñāni thus: “In the sight of those who have come to know as the sun of true knowledge their own true state as the self, whose nature is the space of consciousness, the darkness of māyā, that is the ‘I am the body’ idea, does not [did not and never will] exist. That is their experience. Know that the darkness of ignorance (ajñāna) will appear only to those who are afflicted with the blindness of that ‘I am the body’ idea.”[12]
In another verse he expounds on māyā. “When a dreamer wakes up and enters the waking state, all the activities in which he was involved in the dream state seem to him laughably unreal. Similarly, when the waking state of jñāna, the knowledge of the ātman, is attained, all the activities of the jīva, birth and death and all the rest, which appeared and were perceived in imagination within his own self, the ātma svarūpa, cease to exist. Therefore everything [including bondage and liberation] becomes the empty and unreal activity of māyā (illusion).[13]
Once, when a radio was playing in his presence, Bhagavan said, “This box of radio sings and talks, but within it there is no one. Our being is very much like that, like the sky. Though this body speaks like the radio, within there is no doer.”[14] Then, who is acting? “If it be objected, ‘When the sense of doership has ended [in the jīvan mukta], how can actions (karma) be taking place with him? [They cannot be yet] we see actions being performed by him].’ Know that, since the ego attachment that constitutes doership has ended in him, it is Maheśvara, God himself, who, dwelling in his heart, is performing those actions.”[15]
There are four more verses in the Anubandham that deal directly with the state of the jñāni. Three of them (31, 32 and 33) are Bhagavan’s original compositions in Tamil that summarize verses in Guru Vācaka Kovai that were composed by Muruganar based on Bhagavan’s explanations of their meaning. The fourth (38) is also an original composition.
In verse 31 of the Anubandham, when there is no ego and its associated vāsanās, there is no one left to experience states of body or mind. “In the same way that someone who is asleep, travelling in a bullock cart, is not aware of whether the cart is moving, stationary or standing alone, unyoked from the bullocks, the jñāni who is sleeping without sleeping in this cart-like, fleshly body, is not aware of the activities, states of absorption, and sleep that occur in his bodily existence.”[16]
Here is Sadhu Om’s commentary. “The body and mind of a Jnani appear to be real only in the wrong outlook of agnanis, who mistake themselves to be a body and mind. In the true outlook of the Jnani, who experiences himself as the space of mere consciousness, “I am”, the body and mind are completely non-existent. Therefore, since the states of activity, namely waking and dream, the state of absorption (nishta) and the state of sleep are all states which pertain only to the body and mind, they are not at all known to the Jnani, just as the moving, standing and unyoked states of a cart are unknown to someone who is asleep in the cart.”[17]
Muruganar takes us a step further and expands the meaning of the verse to include the gunas. “There is no change in a person who is sleeping, but [changes] appear as soon as he wakes up. But in the case of a jnani, who is in conscious sleep, there is no change in any of the avasthas. So, to distinguish him from the normal sleeper, he has been praised as ‘changeless’. As the mind that is the basis of all three gunas is dead for a jnani, he remains established as guna-free reality. Therefore, the activities that represent the three gunas, and which are said to be performed by him, exist only in the view of others who see him. They do not exist at all from his perspective of the Self. Nishta, activity and sleep correspond to the movements of sattva, rajas and tamas.”[18]
In verse 32, when there is no ego and its associated vāsanās, waking, dream and deep sleep are unreal appearances. The jnāni is established in the transcendental state, which is not the fourth or fifth, but the only state. “It is only for the benefit of ajñānis, who believe that the three states of waking, dream and sleep are real, that the state of waking sleep (jagrat suṣupti) is given the name of turīya, as a fourth state transcending these. Since the state referred to thus as turīya is alone the real state, and since the other three states are mere appearances, false and unreal, know with certainty that that one underlying state called turīya is itself turīyātīta (the transcendent state beyond the fourth).”[19]
Bhagavan responded in this way when asked about the meaning of being in sleepless sleep: “It is the jnani’s state. In sleep our ego is submerged and the sense organs are not active. The jnani’s ego has been killed and he does not indulge in any sense activities of his own accord or with the notion that he is the doer. So he is in sleep. At the same time he is not unconscious as in sleep, but fully awake in the Self; so his state is sleepless. This sleepless sleep, wakeful sleep, or whatever it may be called, is the turiya state of the Self, on which as the screen, all the three avasthas, the waking, dream and sleep, pass, leaving the screen unaffected.”[20]
Muruganar describes turīya in this beautiful and inspiring verse. “If you ask what is the deathless state, the refuge in which we become established, so that there is a final end to the suffering in which we wander wearily hither and thither [from birth to birth, and vexed in every birth by the body-mind], it is the supreme, empty expanse that is the wondrous, transcendent state of turīya that is revealed and bestowed upon us by the jñāna guru, the very form of Lord Siva, who shines as the awareness of the real that knows no lack.”[21]
In verse 33, when there is no ego and its associated vāsanās, karmas do not apply. “When the husband dies, none amongst his several wives can remain unwidowed. Similarly, after the doer [who is necessary for the three karmas to be experienced] has been destroyed through (the attainment of) jñāna, all those three karmas will no longer exist for the jñāni.”[22]
The three karmas are prārabdha (past actions currently yielding fruit), sañcita (stored up actions) and āgāmi (future actions). In this passage, Bhagavan is clear about the jnani’s prārabdha: "If a man must at once leave his body when he realises the Self, I wonder how any knowledge of the Self or the state of realisation can come down to other men. And that would mean that all those who have given us the fruits of their Self-realisation in books cannot be considered jnanis because they went on living after realisation. And if it is held that a man cannot be considered a jnani so long as he performs actions in the world (and action is impossible without the mind), then not only the great Sages who carried on various kinds of work after attaining jnana must not be considered jnanis, but the gods also, and Ishwara Himself, since He continues looking after the world. The fact is that any amount of action can be performed, and performed quite well, by the jnani without his identifying himself with it in any way or ever imagining that he is the doer. Some power acts through his body and uses his body to get the work done.”[23]
In verse 38, when there is no ego and its associated vāsanās, there is no one to experience praise or blame. “When one always abides unswervingly in one’s own state (the state of Self) without knowing (any differences such as) ‘oneself’ and ‘others’, what (does it matter) if who says what about one self? Even if one praises or even if one disparages oneself, what (does it matter)? (Because in that state of Self-abidance) who is there other than oneself?”[24]
Here is Sadhu Om’s commentary. “The desire for being praised and the dislike of being disparaged, which are two sides of one coin, can be overcome perfectly only when one knows and abides as Self. So long as the ego, the ‘I am the body’ identification survives, one cannot but be affected in some way or other when one is praised or disparaged. But in the non-dual state of self-abidance, in which the ego or individuality has been destroyed, one does not experience any sense of otherness--that is, one does not feel any such distinction as “This is me, that is someone else’--and hence if one is praised or disparaged by ‘others’ it is as if one is praised or disparaged by oneself. In other words, since the Jnani knows that He alone exists, His perfect equanimity cannot be disturbed even in the least by either praise or disparagement.”[25]
In conclusion, let’s go back to square one. The greatness of a jñāni can only be known by a jñāni. So how can we overcome all obstacles to get there? Muruganar summarizes the method artfully in this verse. “[The nature of the mind is to spring outwards along the paths of the five senses]. No one can destroy it by opposing its active nature. [However, if you should ask what is the means for conquering it], you should reflect that the mind is not something real [but an empty, false appearance]. Ascribing no value to it and remaining indifferent to it, you should seek the atman, the substratum for its arising and subsiding, and come to know and experience that atman. If you thus become established in the atman, the power of the mind’s unreal and delusive movements will [through lack of attention] gradually be eroded and destroyed.”[26]
Sadhu Om sheds his own light on this verse. “Vali had a boon whereby he gained half of the strength of any opponent who faced him, and therefore Ram had to kill him without confronting him face to face. Likewise, if one tries to kill the mind-maya by confronting it directly [that is, by struggling to control the thoughts, the rising and jumping nature of the mind], one will in fact be giving fresh strength to it. Since the mind [i.e. the rising and jumping nature of the mind] is an object known to us, we should treat it as a second person and ignore it by turning our attention towards the first person, the mere feeling ‘I’. The mind will then lose the power of Grace [anugraha-sakti] and thus it will gradually subside and die of its own accord.”[27]
Perseverance is required. How do we know our efforts will succeed? Because the jnani’s divinity is our divinity, and there is nothing separate from the ātman.
Om śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ
1 Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai, meaning by Sri Sadhu Om and translation by Michael James, Sri Ramana Kshetra, Tiruvannamalai, 2007, p. 68. ↩
2 Verses 1106 and 1107, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, composed by Sri Muruganar, prose paraphrase by Sri Sadhu Om, and translation from the Tamil by Robert Butler, Sri Ramana Center of Houston, 2023, p. 257. ↩
3 See verse 4 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu. ↩
4 The first article appeared in the April-June 2025 issue of The Mountain Path, the second in the July-September 2025 issue, the third in the January-March 2026 issue, and the fourth in the April-June 2026 issue. ↩
5 Translations of the original Sanskrit verses are by the author. ↩
6 English translations of Bhagavan’s verses in Tamil are by Michael James. See https://happinessofbeing.blogspot.com/2024/05/ulladu-narpadu-anubandham-tamil-text.html. ↩
7 Smt. T.R. Kanakammal, Commentary on Aruṇāchala Stuti Pañchakam and Upadēsa Nūn Mālai, Sri Ramanasramam, Tiruvannamalai, 2009, pp. 620 and 622. ↩
8 Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai, see note 1, p. 139. ↩
9 Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi’sReality In Forty Verses(with Supplement),Commentary by ‘Who’ (K. Lakshmana Sarma), Translated from Tamil by ‘KAYS’, Sri Ramanasramam, Tiruvannamalai, 2013, pp. 211-212. ↩
10 Smt. T.R. Kanakammal, see note 7, p. 623. ↩
11 Ibid., p. 624. ↩
12 Verse 1085, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, prose paraphrase, see note 2, p. 252. ↩
13 Ibid., verse 1195, p. 280. ↩
14 Smt. T.R. Kanakammal, see note 7, p. 631. ↩
15 Verse 1139, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, prose paraphrase, see note 2, p. 264. ↩
16 Ibid., verse B21, p. 257. ↩
17 Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai, see note 1, pp. 143-144. ↩
18 Guru Vachaka Kovai by Muruganar, Translated by Dr. T.V. Venkatasubramanian, Robert Butler and David Godman, All India Press, 2008, p. 467. ↩
19 Verse B18, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, prose paraphrase, see note 2, p. 218. ↩
20 A. Devaraja Mudaliar, Day by Day with Bhagavan, Sri Ramanasramam, Tiruvannamalai, 2002, 2-11-45, p. 42. ↩
21 Verse 1009, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, prose paraphrase, see note 2, p. 235. ↩
22 Ibid., verse B23, p. 266. ↩
23 A. Devaraja Mudaliar, see note 20, 5-5-46 evening, p. 219. ↩
24 Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai, see note 1, p. 154. ↩
25 Ibid., pp. 154-155. ↩
26 Verse 921, Guru Vācaka Kōvai, prose paraphrase, see note 2, p. 214. ↩
27 Guru Vachaka Kovai (The Collection of Guru’s Sayings) by Sri Muruganar, Translation and Commentary by Sri Sadhu Om, Sri Arunachala Ramana Nilayam, Tiruvannamalai, 2005, p. 291. ↩
Dr. S. Ram Mohan is the author of numerous articles on Bhagavan’s teachings and is currently the editor of Ramanodhayam, the Tamil magazine of the Ramana Kendra in Chennai.
Some might ask, “Where is Bhagavan? What is his nature?” It is not possible to answer these questions satisfactorily, because Bhagavan cannot be described in words. Let us see what the word ‘Bhagavan’ means. The Sanskrit word भगः (Bhaga) denotes these six virtues: infinite wealth, infinite knowledge, infinite grace, infinite splendour, infinite valour, and infinite might. So the one who possesses these qualities is ‘Bhagavan’.
Bhagavan’s Grace is all-encompassing. To the devotees who surrendered to him, he granted complete protection, accepting both their virtues and vices, and showing them the path to Liberation. His Grace, however, was not confined to human beings alone. Animals, birds, and plants were also beneficiaries of his Grace. In the 70th verse of the Devikalottaram, we are told that one should avoid hurting plants by plucking flowers, leaves, etc. for puja. Bhagavan lived this principle. Once an egg fell out of the nest and sustained a crack. Bhagavan took the egg in his hand, wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and took care of it. He was delighted when the crack healed and the baby bird hatched safely!
Muruganar sings in Ramana Sannidhi Murai:
கறவையே நாடிக் கருகியே ஓடும்
கன்றுபோல் கழல் அடைவோரை
விறலினால் ஓங்கும் விழியினால் வினையின்
வீறுதீர்த்து அருள்செய் வேங்கடனே...
Like the calf that runs to its mother for sustenance, one just has to run to Bhagavan and throw oneself at his feet. He, being the repository of compassion, will mitigate the devotee’s bad karma and set him on the path to Liberation.[1]
Infinite Knowledge
The other aspect of Bhaga, namely infinite knowledge, is also exemplified by Bhagavan.
कस्मिन्विज्ञाते सर्वमिदं विज्ञातो भवतीति।
Kasmin vijnaate sarvamidam vijnaato bhavatiti
That one thing which, if known, can bestow all the knowledge in the world.[2]
“It is the only knowledge worth acquiring,” says the Veda. At a very young age, Bhagavan left school. But he acquired Self-knowledge, and through that he acquired knowledge of languages, of history, geography, science, etc. He was thus able to interact with Sanskrit scholars like Kavyakanta, Tamil scholars like Muruganar, Westerners like Somerset Maugham, and other great philosophers and scientists who came for his darshan. All of them were impressed by his grasp of their specialized fields of knowledge.
Infinite Wealth
Another aspect of Bhaga is infinite wealth. Bhagavan possessed this also in ample measure. He attained the highest wealth called Self-knowledge seemingly without any effort. This attribute of great wealth was recognized by his devotees.
Muruganar, in his Ramana Sannidhi Murai sings:
என்செய்த நல்விவனயோடு ஏழேழ் தலைமுறையோர்
முன்செய்த நல்வினையான் முற்பட்டு நாயேற்கு
மன்செய்த தண்ணனியான் மாவேங் கடரமணன்
பொன்செய்த பூங்கழற்கே போந்தூதாய் கோத்தும்பீ.
The merits acquired by me must have been augmented by the merits acquired by seven generations of my ancestors. It is due to this that a lowly person like me could become the recipient of Bhagavan’s wealth of Knowledge”.[3]
Infinite Grace
The next aspect to consider is infinite grace. Saint Appar, in his Thiruthandagam says: “The Lord resides in the words uttered by one’s mouth. He is in our minds. He fills our minds in the form of thoughts. He alone has the power to transform our thoughts into actions. He is the epitome of purity. He wears the bright moon as an ornament in His hair. I follow Him everywhere, and He bestows His Grace upon me, like a loving mother caring for her child. Those who are immersed in sense pleasures, even if they are Devas, cannot know the full extent of His glory.”[4] All these qualities can also be attributed to our Bhagavan.
Infinite Splendour
The next aspect of Bhaga, namely infinite splendour, can also be seen in Bhagavan. His mother Alagammal had the feeling of bearing a divine effulgence in her womb throughout the ten months of her pregnancy. Muruganar talks in similar terms about his first meeting with Bhagavan: “Bhagavan is the utmost pinnacle of splendour. When I saw this enchanting form of Bhagavan, my eyes forgot to blink! As I gazed at him enraptured by his beauty, Bhagavan glanced at me. At the moment that his eyes met mine, I could feel my ego getting destroyed completely. I felt that the death of my ego was a cause for celebration. From that moment, I have been his slave, bound by the enchantment of his effulgent form.”[5]
Infinite Valour
The fifth aspect of Bhaga is infinite valour. This is also exemplified by Bhagavan. Valour means the courage to face that which is terrifying. Everyone is terrified of death. Bhagavan, however, faced death directly as a young boy of sixteen, and instantly vanquished fear of death.
In Ulladu Narpadu Bhagavan says: “When those who are in dread of death seek refuge at the feet of the deathless, birthless Lord Supreme, their ego and attachments die; now deathless, they think no more of death.” Can the fear of death ever affect such a realized soul?
மரணபய மிக்குளவம் மக்களர ணாக
மரணபவ மில்லா மகேசன் — சரணமே
சார்வர்தஞ் சார்வொடுதாஞ் சாவுற்றார் சாவெண்ணஞ்
சார்வரோ சாவா தவர்நித்தர்.[6]
Bhagavan is capable of freeing his devotees from the greatest fear of all - the fear of death. So we can take him to be the example of the most valorous hero!
Infinite Might
The last aspect of Bhaga, namely infinite might, was also exhibited by Bhagavan in full measure. Usually we associate might with the ability to conquer external enemies. But the ultimate might lies in the ability to conquer the enemies within. To root out all evil tendencies from the heart is the hardest task. Extraordinary might is required to overcome the enchantment of the senses and to remain steadfast in the state of oneness with the Self.
Thiruvalluvar says, “He who has burnt away the five senses, and stands firm in the state of supreme Realisation, is the one to be revered.” Such a one is extolled as a jitendriya (one who has conquered the senses).[7]
Thathuvaraya Swami composed the Mohavadhai Bharani (‘the song in praise of the one who destroyed Illusion’) in honour of his sadguru. A Bharani is typically composed for a hero who has killed a thousand elephants in battle, and the learned poets of the land objected that it could not be sung for one sitting quietly in meditation. Thathuvaraya brought these poets to his sadguru’s ashram in order to quell their objections. There they saw the sadguru seated in deep meditation. As they sat before him, their thoughts gradually died down and all of them were immersed in silent meditation for several hours. When the sadguru finally opened his eyes and the poets emerged from their trance, they admitted that subduing several minds — each with thousands of thoughts — is a far greater feat than subduing a thousand elephants. They approved of Thathuvaraya’s title unanimously. Bhagavan himself narrated this story to his devotees, teaching them that the greatest battle is the one fought against the mind, and the greatest victory is the destruction of the mind.
What we saw in the story of Thathuvaraya happened quite regularly in the presence of Bhagavan Ramana! Many devotees have recorded their experience of thought-free Self-absorption in Bhagavan’s presence. Paul Brunton, for example, tells us that he came to Bhagavan with hundreds of questions, but after sitting in the Maharshi’s presence, all his questions simply evaporated and his mind was immersed in silence. Many devotees have reported similar experiences.
Conclusion
It is clear that Bhaga is an apt description of Bhagavan’s qualities. It is no exaggeration to say that Bhagavan’s splendour surpassed the five elements that constitute the world.
Bhagavan, who is the same as Arunachala, has sung: “O Pure One! If the five elements consisting of ether, air, fire, water and earth, the numerous living beings and every manifest thing are nothing but the Pure Consciousness that Thou art, how then can I (alone) be separate from Thee? Since Thou shinest in the Heart, a single Expanse without duality, how can I come forth distinct therefrom? Show Thyself planting Thy Lotus Feet upon the (ego’s) head as it emerges, O Arunachala!”
வெளிவளி தீநீர் மண்பல வுயிரா
விரிவுறு பூதபௌ திகங்கள்
வெளியொளி யுன்னை யன்றியின் றென்னின்
வேருயா னாருளன் விமலா
வெளியதா யுளத்து வேறற விளங்கின்
வேறென வெளிவரு வேனார்
வெளிவரா யருணா சலவலவன் றலையில்
விரிமலர்ப் பதத்தினை வைத்தே.[8]
Bhagavan is the ocean of compassion, beyond good and bad, beyond all dualities. His grace is not bound by religion or philosophies. Muslims like Dr. Syed, Jews like Cohen, Christians like Paul Brunton, Buddhist monks like Pragnanapada — all were treated equally by Bhagavan. He clarified their doubts and set them on the right path. At the same time, he would advise every one of them, “Do not get distracted by debates and discussions. Ask yourself, ‘Who is it that has all these doubts?’ and try to find the source of all thoughts, through self-enquiry.”
All devotees of Bhagavan are aware of the constant feeling deep within their hearts that Bhagavan is Everything. Muruganar sings:
இருளே ஒளியே இரண்டு மலாத
பொருளே யடியோம் புகலாம் பரமே
தெருளே தெருளின் றெளிவே தெளிந்த
அருளே யதீதச்சிற் றம்பலமாஞ் செம்பதமே
ஒன்றே யிரண்டே யுவைகடந்த மோனமணி
மன்றே மருந்தே மணியேவான் மந்திரமே
முன்பே முளைத்த மழுமுதலா மின்பப்பே
ரன்பே சிவமா யமர்ந்த வனந்தமே...
“You are the darkness and the light, and also that state which is beyond darkness and light! You are our refuge, my Lord! You are the supreme knowledge, and the essence of all knowledge! You are Grace and the state of blissful consciousness transcending space and time. You are the One, you are duality, you are the treasure house of silence! You are the medicine for all ills, the most precious jewel, you are the primordial form of bliss and love! You are Siva, the One without beginning or end!”[9]
To quote Ramalinga Swamigal, Bhagavan is like the ocean in which rivers come and empty their waters. However many rivers mingle with the ocean, the ocean accepts them all, and becomes a boundless expanse.
1 Muruganar, Ramana Sannidhi Murai, Verse 241, Adhenduppathu. ↩
2 Mundaka Upanishad, 1-3. ↩
3 Muruganar, Ramana Sannidhi Murai, Verse 1741, Thirukkothumbee. ↩
4 Thirumurai 6, Padigam 19, verse 8. ↩
5 Muruganar, Ramana Sannidhi Murai, Verse 317, Adimaippathu. ↩
6 Sri Ramana Maharshi, Ulladu Narpadu, Second Mangalam. ↩
7 Thiruvalluvar, Thirukkural, v 6. ↩
8 Sri Ramana Maharshi, Arunachala Padikam, verse 7. ↩
9 Muruganar, Ramana Sannidhi Murai, Ramana Puranam, verses 467-474. ↩
The great Hindi saint-poet Tulsidas (1511-1623) is at his best when he depicts the meeting of Hanuman and Bibheeshan in a beautiful passage of Ramcharitmanas. Hanuman, who has entered Lanka and is stealthily searching through Ravan’s palaces, hasn’t traced Sita yet, but the appearance of one of the houses in the city suddenly draws his attention. This house has the bow and arrows of Bhagavan Ram — Ramayudh — drawn on it, and in the front yard there are some beautiful Tulsi plants. From the drawing of the Ramayudh and the Tulsi plants in front of the house, Hanuman concludes that this must be the home of a devotee of Sri Ram, and he is overjoyed at the prospect of meeting a fellow devotee in Ravan’s Lanka. Just as he enters the house, its occupant, Bibheeshan, wakes up and says, “Ram, Ram”. That makes it abundantly clear to Hanuman that the master of the house is indeed a devotee of Lord Ram, and he decides that meeting such a devotee will certainly not harm his mission. When the two devotees talk, they can only praise Lord Ram for His infinite compassion. Bibheeshan is overwhelmed with joy that the Lord has sent such a one as Hanuman to him — such extraordinary satsang for one who has been living among the rakshasas in Lanka! About his life as a devotee in Lanka, Bibheeshan says:
Sunahu pavansut rahani hamari
Jimi dasananhi mahu jeebh bichari
“Listen, Son of Pavana! I stay here like the poor tongue stays among the teeth.”
In many parts of the world, including many parts of our own country today, a devotee finds himself much like the tongue among the teeth. The analogy is quite clear: if the tongue is the devotee, then the teeth that surround it are the non-devotees. The soft tongue can get bitten by the hard, sharp teeth. However, I do not wish to stress any destructive or negative qualities of non-devotees. I simply wish to emphasize the difference. In contemporary society, many people do not have an active religious or spiritual life, and non-devotees often far outnumber devotees.
Just as Hanuman and Bibheeshan were very happy to meet one another, devotees always enjoy the company of other devotees. Sri Ramakrishna Paramhamsa used to say that when two hemp-smokers meet, they become fast friends. The hemp-smokers are Sri Ramakrishna’s analogy for devotees, of course. However, when a devotee has to live in a place where materialistic pursuits rather than devotion predominate, then he may have to struggle to maintain his devotional practices. Sri Ram’s concern for his devotee living in Ravan’s Lanka is on full display at their first meeting when he asks Bibheeshan:
Khal mandali basahu din rati
Sakha dharam nibahai kehi bhati
“Evil people sit there (at Lanka) day and night. O friend, how did you perform your dharma there?” And Sri Ram does not stop there. He goes on to say that being in hell is better than having the companionship of evil people, and that Divine Providence should not place us in bad company. In reply, Bibheeshan simply says that now that he has seen the lotus feet of Sri Ram and has been accepted by the Lord, all is well. This is the mark of the true devotee — one who does not prolong a complaint. The instant that he receives assurance of Divine Protection, he is happy and satisfied.
Sri Ram’s questions to Bibheeshan about his spiritual welfare are a clear indication of the Lord’s compassion for His devotee. Indeed, it is He who made it possible for Bibheeshan to practice his dharma and remain a devotee even in adverse circumstances.
God never abandons a devotee, although a devotee is likely to forget this at times. In the Bhagavad Gita (9.31), Sri Krishna declares that His devotees never perish (na me bhaktāḥ praṇaśyati). Devotees of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi have testified to Sri Bhagavan’s unfailing care for them. Once, T. K. Sundaresa Iyer, who had been visiting Sri Bhagavan regularly at Skandasramam, felt he was not making any spiritual progress. He wondered if his visits to Bhagavan had been meaningless. So, he decided to discontinue these visits. After 100 days of staying away from Skandasramam, however, he yearned to be in Sri Bhagavan’s presence again, and ran up the hill to Skandasramam. While returning, he saw Sri Bhagavan from a distance, went to Him weeping, and fell at His feet. Sri Bhagavan gently pulled him up and said, “It is over three months since I saw you. Where were you?” T K Sundaresa Iyer told Bhagavan that he had stayed away because of the seeming futility of his visits. Sri Bhagavan replied, “All right, maybe it is of no use, so what? You felt the loss, did you not?” Such was Bhagavan’s unconditional care for his devotee.
Actually, T. K. Sundaresa Iyer was a wonderful devotee, and the doubt that troubled him at that point of his life—whether his association with Sri Bhagavan had yielded any spiritual benefits or not—is a doubt that many devotees experience. This doubt has to be overcome on the path to spiritual fulfilment. Why should one wait for some god to descend from the skies or some extraordinary vision to shake up the senses? Grace doesn’t usually descend like thunder and lightning—although occasionally it may descend that way, too. Or it can happen so gently that it may not be noticed at first, like new leaves slowly stealing into the bare branches of trees, making them green in spring.
No one can say how Grace will work, but usually it comes quietly, almost unnoticed. Or, to be more precise, Grace doesn’t occur as a specific event, but is available every moment and at all times. Sri Bhagavan used to say that Grace is always there. Sometimes, we may be unable to feel the flow of Grace, but this is only because we block it with our egoistic, egocentric thinking. It is because of Grace alone that T. K. Sundaresa Iyer had the opportunity to be with and serve Sri Bhagavan. The very fact that one is motivated and able to perform one’s daily prayers, japa, etc., is because of Grace. Whether one is in Sri Lanka or in Ayodhya, if one is able to keep up one’s spiritual practice, it is entirely because of the Grace of the Lord.
Once, a monk of the Ramakrishna Order wrote to Ma Sarada, complaining that he had done so much of sādhana and yet hadn’t had the darshan of Sri Ramakrishna. The gentle, quiet Ma Sarada was annoyed by this enquiry and her reply to the monk was a counter-question: Is God a commodity in the market to be had for so much of sādhana?
Devotees should recognize that the performance of sādhana itself is the blessing. Being able to keep up one’s sādhana is a sure sign of the Guru’s Grace. When I say “sure sign,” I don’t mean that we need to look for signs. We don’t. We just have to submit our will to Sri Bhagavan and let His Grace do the rest. If we are patient, we cannot but notice the manifestation of His Grace. If someone complains about the absence of Grace, it is like the fish in the ocean complaining of thirst.
There has been no shortage of instances in which Bhagavan has shown his concern for me in my own life.
For decades now, my wife and I have been caught in the Ramana “net” — Sri Bhagavan’s sphere of infinite compassion. By now, through Sri Bhagavan’s Grace, we have become familiar with quite a large number of books and articles on Him. However, decades ago, when we had just started visiting Sri Ramanasramam, we did not know much about Him. Gradually, as we read more about Him and met fellow devotees, we got drawn irresistibly to Tiruvannamalai and Sri Ramanasramam.
In those early days of our contact with the Ashram, I would try to set aside time in my annual schedule for our Tiruvannamalai getaway, little realizing that the planning was not actually mine. It took some time for us to realize that some other force was at work to ensure that even during our first few visits to Sri Ramanasramam, we would find ourselves there on very special days, even without our knowledge that those were special occasions. At that time, we didn’t even know that such a thing as the Ashram calendar existed. On our second visit, we found a group of devotees singing Aksharamanamalai in front of the Nirvana Room, little realizing that this was being done in commemoration of that fateful day on April 14, 1950, when Sri Bhagavan left the body. On another occasion, we arrived on Jayanthi day, without planning for it.
We have all read about Sri Bhagavan’s great devotees who were entirely surrendered at the feet of their guru: Sri Muruganar, Kunju Swami, Viswanath Swami, Jagadeesa Shastri, Major Chadwick, Arthur Osborne, Suri Nagamma, Kankkammal, T. K. Sundaresa Iyer, and so many others. We have read so many stories about how Sri Bhagavan’s infinite Grace worked on them. The same Grace continues to be at work even now. The amazing thing is that Sri Bhagavan’s Grace doesn’t differentiate between “great” devotees and “ordinary” ones.
Devotees today, even ordinary ones like me, continue to experience evidence of His Grace working in mysterious ways. A few years ago, when my wife and I were both rather worried over something, we rushed to the Ashram without any prior planning. Over the course of a very brief stay there, Bhagavan’s Grace evaporated our anxieties. As was our custom, we prayed to Matrubhuteswara, witnessed the chanting of the Vedas and the Tamil Parayana at the Samadhi Hall, and meditated in the Old Hall. Some nights before our arrival, Maha Deepam had been lit atop Arunachala. One night, devotees were singing Aksharamanamalai facing the peak of Arunachala, but we could not see the Deepam because of cloudiness. Just as the singing ended with “Arunachalam vazhi/anabar galum vazhi/Aksharamanamalai vazhi,” the Deepam atop the Hill suddenly flared forth in dazzling clarity, and all the devotees hailed that great “display” of the Lord. It was really wonderful! One evening, we went on giripradakshina. We usually take a very long time to complete the 14-kilometre walk round the Hill, remembering what Sri Bhagavan had said—that while doing giripradakshina one should walk slowly, like a queen in the ninth month of her pregnancy. At one point along the route, a passerby suddenly came directly to us and said, pointing to the Deepam atop the Hill, “Today is the eighth day since the Deepam was lit, but see how wonderfully it shines!” As he spoke, a thought flashed across my mind that it was for us, for our short, unplanned visit, that the Deepam was shining so bright even on the eighth day….and then the immediate next thought was, of course, about how stupid and egoistic it was to consider ourselves so “important!” However, there could be no denying that all the worries and anxieties with which we had come—had vanished. We felt assured, safe, happy and at peace. We also felt ashamed at having been so anxious. How can true devotion and anxiety co-exist?
The list of such direct acts of compassion by Sri Bhagavan are actually endless, but I shall refrain from continuing for fear of turning this article into a self-indulgent and boring tale. I cannot, however, resist the temptation of ending with one last anecdote. We live some 3,000 kilometres away from Sri Ramanasramam, but this incident shows how Sri Bhagavan finds ways of keeping us connected to Him, always. Only a few months ago, Ramana Balachandran was performing in a musical event organized in the campus of a university quite near our home. I knew nothing about it. I was busy with work. But how could Sri Bhagavan forget his devotees when there was the chance for them to listen to Balachandran’s wonderful music and witness his devotion to Sri Bhagavan? So, we heard from a friend in Australia — thousands of kilometres from us — that Ramana Balachandran would be performing in our town. As we sat in the hall that evening, listening to Balachandran, we couldn’t help feeling that Sri Bhagavan had sent His devotee to us, just as Hanuman had been sent to Bibheeshan. When “Arunachala Siva! Arunachala Siva!” rang out in that hall at the end of Balachandran’s performance, most of the audience may have wondered what it was all about, but to us, it was music for our souls, and we could not help but weep with happiness and gratitude. Such is Bhagavan’s Grace! He cares for all—even those that live like the tongue among the teeth! He provides for sādhana, He provides guidance, He provides all that is required by the sādhaka. Indeed, just as a deer in a tiger’s jaws has no escape, the true guru never abandons his devotee.
7. Blessing of having (Good) Children
61. பெறுமவற்றுள் யாமறிவது இல்லை அறிவறிந்த
மக்கட்பேறு அல்ல பிற.
peṛum-avaṭṛuḷ yām-aṛivadu illai aṛivaṛinda
makkaṭ-pēṛu alla piṛa.
Meaning
Among all (the blessings) one may acquire, we know of none greater than the blessing of having children who are (intelligent) and capable of learning all that is required in life.
[பெறும் அவற்றுள் = Among all (the blessings) one may acquire; யாம் அறிவது இல்லை = we know of none; அறிவறிந்த = அறிய வேண்டியதை அறிந்து கொள்வது = capable of learning all that is required in life; பேறு = obtaining, blessing; அறிவறிந்த மக்கட்பேறு அல்ல பிற = greater than the blessing of having children who are capable of learning all that is required in life]
Commentary
It is a great blessing to have intelligent children who are capable of learning all that is required in life and who grow up to attain Enlightenment. In fact, the word aṛivaṛinda not only means to learn all that is required, but also can be split up as aṛivu aṛinda, which would mean to realise the Consciousness or to attain Enlightenment, which is the Supreme Goal of life. We can only imagine what a blessing it would be for the parents to have children like Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, Adi Shankara, Andal, Tirujnanasambandhar, or Tiruvaḷḷuvar. Their whole lineage would be elevated. To beget such glorious children, the parents must have been very noble and pure, and must have probably done much tapas in their past janmas. Thus, among all the blessings or attainments one may acquire, such as name, fame, wealth, status, educational qualifications, etc., there is none greater than having such a divine child who attains the Supreme Goal of life, and is a guide to others.
62. எழுபிறப்பும் தீயவை தீண்டா பழிபிறங்காப்
பண்புடை மக்கட் பெறின்.
ezhu-piṛappum tīyavai tīṇḍā pazhi-piṛaṅgāp
paṇbuḍai makkaṭ peṛin.
Meaning
When blameless children of good character are born, evil will not touch seven generations (of the family).
[பழிபிறங்காப் பண்புடை மக்கள் பெறின் = When blameless children of good character are born; எழுபிறப்பும் தீயவை தீண்டா = evil will not touch seven generations]
Commentary
When children of good character are born, their purva janma sukrutam and spiritual evolution will make them lead unblemished lives. Such children will surely conduct themselves in a virtuous and faultless manner, and will perform many good deeds and earn much punya karma. They will not do wrong deeds or develop bad habits that would invite condemnation and bad karma. They will be devoted to God and serve society in many ways.
Besides discharging their duties to their family, they will, to the extent of their resources, also perform good deeds such as giving food to the poor, paying tuition fees for deserving children, helping the sick, caring for the elderly and handicapped.
The merit earned by them will, in the course of time, bring them to a Guru who will guide them on the spiritual path so that they can evolve further and attain the ultimate goal of life — Liberation. Their attainment of Liberation will also protect seven generations of their family from evil, says Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar. This means that the merit earned by this virtuous being will, in addition to their present family, protect their parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren from any evil or harm. This is the immense benefit to their whole lineage from the birth of such a divine child.
63. தம்பொருள் என்ப தம்மக்கள் அவர்பொருள்
தம்தம் வினையான் வரும்.
tam-poruḷ enba tam-makkaḷ avar-poruḷ
tam-tam vinaiyān varum.
Meaning
“Our children are said to be (born based on) the fruits of our (past) actions (karmas). And their children (in turn) will be born depending upon how they conduct themselves in life.”
[பொருள் = wealth, value, fruit of action, children; என்ப = said to be; தம் மக்கள் என்ப தம் பொருள் = Our children are said to be (born based on) the fruits of our (past) actions; அவர் பொருள் = their children; தம்தம் வினையான் வரும் = will be born depending upon how they conduct themselves in life]
Commentary
In Tamil, the word poruḷ பொருள் has different meanings depending upon the context. Normally, this is taken to mean wealth. This, however, gives only a superficial meaning for this Kuṛaḷ: “A man’s children are said to be his wealth, but their value is based on their conduct.” But here, it carries the meanings of ‘fruit of action’ (வினைப்பயன்), and ‘children’. Thus, this Kuṛaḷ has a deeper meaning: “Our children are said to be the fruits of our past actions or karmas. And the children born to them, in turn, will depend upon how they conduct themselves in life.”
Thus, depending upon past karmas, one will have children through whom they will have to experience the fruits of their past karmas. Such is the design of Nature. For instance, those who tend to lie will have children that also develop similar tendencies. Those who have been rude to their parents will have children who will be rude to them. In fact, the recoil through their children will be even more intense. This is the meaning of the popular saying that the sins of the parents are visited on their children.
In the Mahabharata, Kunti abandoned Karna as a baby, and he suffered throughout his life. Because of this, Kunti too suffered throughout her life. She too was separated from her children most of the time.
On the other hand, if the parents have many good karmas, they will get very good children who will be noble and bring a good name to their family and give them much happiness.
This is how parents face the fruits of their karmas. It will make them realise their past mistakes and correct themselves if they enquire properly. This is the Karma Siddhanta that this Kuṛaḷ teaches. This truth is also mentioned in the Garuda Puranam.
64. அமிழ்தினும் ஆற்ற இனிதே தம்மக்கள்
சிறுகை அளாவிய கூழ்.
amizhdinum āṭṛa inidē tam-makkaḷ
siṛukai aḷāviya kūzh.
Meaning
The food that has been handled by the little hands of one’s own children tastes as great as ambrosia itself.
[தம்மக்கள் சிறுகை அளாவிய கூழ் = The food that has been handled by the little hands of one’s own children; அமிழ்தினும் ஆற்ற இனிதே = tastes as great as ambrosia itself]
Commentary
Our hands radiate life energy, and that is why they are used to bless and also to eat. The food eaten by hand makes it more easily digestible because it is mixed with our life energy. This is the reason that, in India, the culture of eating with a spoon and fork does not exist.
When Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi was a boy, his aunt used to make him handle the ingredients used to make idlis and appalam because they tasted better afterwards. In fact, he was nicknamed Tangakkai, which means one with the golden hands. Even today, there is the practice of making a virtuous person in the house mix the flour of rice and dhal with their hands so that the idli or dosa made with it would taste better.
For nine months in the womb, the baby grows on the life energy of the mother, in addition to its own stock. Even after birth, it grows for the first few years on its mother’s milk, through which her life energy is transmitted to her baby. In young children, the life energy is very pure because they have pure minds. Thus, when the food we eat has been infused with the life energy of our own children, it is tastier because of our life-link and deep bond, and because their life energy is essentially our own from our own stock. The life energy is the hidden ingredient in the food that adds to its taste and nourishment. That is why children tend to eat better if their mother mixes food and puts it in their mouths. The mother’s life energy mixed in the food and her loving feelings make it tastier for her children. This is the reason that Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar says that the taste would be as great as ambrosia itself for the parents.
65. மக்கள் மெய்தீண்டல் உடற்கின்பம் மற்றவர்
சொல்கேட்டல் இன்பம் செவிக்கு.
makkaḷ mey-tīṇḍal uḍaṛkinbam maṭṛavar
sol-kēṭṭal inbam sevikku.
Meaning
The touch of one’s children is joy for the body; their prattle is music to the ears.
[மக்கள் மெய் தீண்டல் உடற்கு இன்பம் = The touch of one’s children is joy for the body; மற்று = அசை, an expletive; அவர் சொல் கேட்டல் இன்பம் செவிக்கு = their prattle is music to the ears]
Commentary
Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar says that when our children touch us, it will give a thrill to the body. And their chatter is music to our ears. In the previous Kuṛaḷ, Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar explained how the food handled by the children is pleasing to the sense of taste. Here he tells us how children give joy through the sense of touch and the sense of hearing. In touch, there is a transfer of positive life energy, and this is the most important factor contributing to our joy. In addition, our high attachment to our children makes their touch and prattle give us much joy. Thus, he shows how we get joy from our children through the senses.
66. குழல்இனிது யாழ்இனிது என்ப தம்மக்கள்
மழலைச் சொல் கேளாதவர்.
kuzhal-inidu yāzh-inidu enba tam-makkaḷ
mazhalaic chol kēḷādavar.
Meaning
(Only) those who have not heard the prattle of their own children will claim that flute and lute are sweet.
[தம் மக்கள் மழலைச் சொல் கேளாதவர் = those who have not heard the prattle of their own children; குழல் இனிது யாழ் இனிது என்ப = will claim that flute and lute are sweet]
Commentary
We generally think of the sounds from musical instruments as very sweet. But the baby talk of their child is far more delightful to the parents. Parents love their child greatly and everything it does gives them much joy. It is due to the life-link and attachment they have with their baby that makes them feel so. This bond is strong because the baby had grown on the mother’s life energy in the womb, and on the mother’s milk after birth. This is the reason that a baby gives so much joy to its parents.
67. தந்தை மகற்குஆற்றும் நன்றி அவையத்து
முந்தி இருப்பச் செயல்.
tandai magaṛku-āṭṛum nanḍṛi avaiyattu
mundi iruppac cheyal.
Meaning
The (greatest) good a father can do to his son is to equip him to occupy the first place in an(y) assembly.
[தந்தை மகற்கு ஆற்றும் நன்றி = The (greatest) good a father can do to his son; முந்தி = முன்னிடம், front, first in importance; அவையத்து முந்தி இருப்பச் செயல் = is to equip him to occupy the first place in an(y) assembly].
Commentary
When does one become fit to occupy the first place in any assembly? Only when one has attained greatness in life, in knowledge, in virtuous conduct, and in spiritual development will one be fit to occupy the first place in any assembly. Someone who is a great businessman will be able to occupy the first place only in a commercial meeting. Someone who is a great scientist will be given the seat of honour only at a science meeting. But if someone is a Saint or a Sage, everyone in any assembly will stand up, even as they enter, and they will be led to the dais and given the seat of honour. If Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi or Kanchi Paramacharya were to come to a meeting, would they not be invited to the dais and given the seat of honour, irrespective of the nature of the meeting?
Thus, it is the duty of the father to equip his son to occupy such a high place in society. He has to give him not only wealth and education but also moral values that would also help him to grow spiritually. He has to help his son obtain spiritual knowledge by taking him to a good Guru. This is equally applicable to daughters.[1] In fact, the term மகன் not only means a son but also a child (as per the Tamil Lexicon), which can also mean a daughter. In the spiritual field, Andal, Avvaiyar, Avudai Akkal, Karaikkal Ammaiyar, etc., rose to eminence. In ancient times, Gargi, Maitreyi, Lopamudra, Hemalekha, and Chudala were well-known for their wisdom. All these great women were indeed fit to occupy the first place in any assembly.
Thus, a father has the duty to equip his children well, both son and daughter, to develop not only materially but also spiritually so that they become fit enough to occupy a premier position in any assembly. Ultimately, spiritual development is the greatest attainment or wealth a human can acquire. This is the greatest legacy a father can give to his children.
68. தம்மின் தம்மக்கள் அறிவுடைமை மாநிலத்து
மன்னுயிர்க்கு எல்லாம் இனிது.
tammin tam-makkaḷ aṛivuḍaimai mānilattu
mannuyirkku ellām inidu.
Meaning
The intelligence and wisdom of our children will bring happiness (not only) to us (but also) to the people of the whole world.
[தம்மக்கள் அறிவுடைமை இனிது = The intelligence and wisdom of our children will bring happiness; தம்மின் = (not only) to us; மன்னுயிர் = people of the world; மன்னுயிர்க்கு எல்லாம் = (but also) to the people of the whole world]
Commentary
It is natural for parents to feel happy when they have intelligent and wise children. When their children are intelligent and wise, their contribution will benefit all of humanity. The contributions of scientists like Alexander Fleming, Thomas Alva Edison, Newton, Einstein, and Srinivasa Ramanujan have benefitted the whole world. Their contributions have helped mankind to improve their standard of living. So too have the contributions of our great rishis from time immemorial. The teachings of the great ones like Veda Vyasa, Tiruvaḷḷuvar, Vasishta, Lord Krishna, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, Andal, Adi Shankara, and the Buddha will benefit humanity forever through spiritual upliftment. Thus, we see that intelligent and wise children will bring great joy to the parents and also to humanity. It is like throwing a stone in a pond. The resulting ripples will spread across the whole pond. So it is with the intelligence and wisdom of our great men — its effects will spread out to benefit all of humanity.
69. ஈன்ற பொழுதிற் பெரிதுவக்கும் தன்மகனைச்
சான்றோன் எனக்கேட்ட தாய்.
īnḍṛa pozhudiṛ periduvakkum tan-maganais
sānḍṛōn enak-kēṭṭa tāy.
Meaning
Great is the joy experienced by a mother at the time of her son’s birth; (greater is her joy when, in later years,) she comes to hear her son being described as a Sage.
[பொழுதிற் = பொழுதைவிட, பொழுதில்; தாய் தன் மகனை ஈன்ற பொழுதிற் பெரிது உவக்கும் = Great is the joy experienced by a mother at the time of her son’s birth; சான்றோன் எனக்கேட்ட = (greater is her joy when she hears her son being) described as a Sage]
Commentary
Despite the labour pains, every mother feels great joy upon the birth of a son (or a daughter). Medical science tells us that two happy hormones are released during childbirth — Oxytocin and Endorphins. Oxytocin creates loving feelings and the bond between the baby and the mother, while endorphins help with bearing the labour pains. Both these hormones produce happiness in the mother. All her pains will vanish the moment her baby is born.
If the son grows up to lead a virtuous life and attain Enlightenment, he will be revered in the society as a Sage. When the mother comes to know of her son’s Enlightenment, she will experience a joy greater than what she experienced at the time of his birth, because her son had been able to attain the goal for which he was born. Her joy is greater now because she will have the satisfaction of having given birth to a noble child, and all the pains she had taken to bring him up over the years had paid rich dividends, and he would never have to be born again. Moreover, when the son attains Enlightenment, it will be his mother who would be the greatest beneficiary because he would be able to help her attain Liberation, as happened in the case of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi when he helped his mother attain Liberation at the time of her death.
70. மகன்தந்தைக்கு ஆற்றும் உதவி இவன்தந்தை
என்நோற்றான் கொல்எனுஞ் சொல்.
magan-tandaikku āṭṛum udavi ivan-tandai
en-nōṭṛān kol-enuñ sol.
Meaning
The best help a son can render his father is to conduct himself in such a manner as to make others exclaim what penance his father should have done to beget such a child.
[மகன் தந்தைக்கு ஆற்றும் உதவி = The best help a son can render his father; இவன் தந்தை என்நோற்றான் கொல் எனும் சொல் = is when others exclaim what penance his father should have done to beget such a child]
Commentary
Earlier, Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar had mentioned that the duty of a father towards his son is to give him an education that would elevate him to the highest level wherein he would be able to occupy the first place in any assembly. Now, how can the son repay or recompense his father who has done so much to elevate his life? Only by leading a virtuous and noble life will others exclaim what penance or punya karmas the father must have done to beget such a child and how much effort he must have taken to give his son the education that helped him to grow into such a worthy person. This is the true reward that would please any father.
What efforts must a father take for the proper upbringing of his son so that he is revered by society? A father’s duty is not only to give his son a good education so that he can earn a good livelihood, but also to instil moral values that elevate his soul. He should teach him the importance of honesty, humility, compassion, politeness, charity, service, patience, love, and empathy. The father should help his son obtain spiritual knowledge that would help him to not lose his way in the world. He should teach him about the Karma Siddhanta so that he becomes aware of the consequences of his actions and leads a virtuous life. He should teach him to control his mind by overcoming the ego that rises due to reactions to situations. True Knowledge is not merely learning scriptures or shastras, but realising that we are not this body but the Atma or Self. To realise the Self is the true purpose of life. When the son is able to lead a noble life and elevate himself spiritually also, he will become an outstanding member of society. Because of this, the father will be very happy that all his efforts to educate and elevate his son have paid rich dividends. This is the duty or obligation of a son towards his father.
(To be continued)
1 Sage Tiruvaḷḷuvar has referred only to the son in this Kuṛaḷ because, in those times, only the males generally participated in the proceedings of any assembly. ↩
We recently shifted into a small rented house while flooring work is being done in our own home. The change from a spacious 3BHK to a compact 1RK has been more than a physical adjustment. It has been a quiet bending of the mind, a gentle challenge to the habits that arise from living with more space, more objects, more convenience.
Living in a smaller space makes everything visible. What we actually use. What we simply keep. How much we store just in case. Even cooking has become more mindful because the fridge is only one fourth the size of the one we are used to. Preparing just enough has slowly shown that excess is not always necessary for comfort.
When the time came to move the plants that I had been caring for over the years, I felt a deep disturbance. It was not easy to remove them from the space where they had been quietly growing for so long. In that moment, I saw the strength of attachments, not only to the objects in the house but also to the living presence around them. It felt as though what I call “I” was not confined to this body alone, but had silently extended to include the surroundings, the plants, and the space itself. I felt grateful that all the plants could be moved safely.
My daily routine has also become very simple: preparing food, reading the Bhagavad Gita as explained by Nochur Venkatraman, keeping the space clean and neat, and resting. Within this simplicity, there is a quiet sense of order. With fewer things around, maintaining the space requires little effort, and the mind feels less scattered.
During these days, there has been more care, more politeness, more attention in simple interactions. It is becoming clear how little is actually needed for a peaceful life.
On the second night, the heat was intense. Since our rented house is on the top floor, warmth accumulates and slowly settles down at night, making sleep difficult. We bought an air cooler and arranged it carefully, adjusting the direction so that all of us could feel some relief. The cool air began to circulate and we felt grateful for this small comfort that we were able to get by taking actions to fix the problem.
Then something unexpected happened. Thunder rolled across the sky, and rain began to fall. Within minutes, the atmosphere changed completely. The heat softened. The air felt lighter. The relief that came was far deeper than what the cooler alone could provide.
A simple understanding arose about the difference between human effort and Grace.
The air cooler was like human effort, thoughtful, necessary, supportive, yet limited. The rain felt like Grace, effortless, abundant, beyond personal control.
After some time, we opened a window. Fresh air began to flow freely through the room. The coolness was no longer coming only from the device. It was moving naturally through space. In that moment, it felt as though effort and Grace were not separate. The cooler was still working. The rain had cooled the surroundings. The open window allowed everything to work together.
It felt like a mirror showing something very simple. Grace does not always replace effort. Sometimes it accompanies it.
Sri Bhagavan says, “Effort is necessary until the state of effortless being is realised.” He also reminds us, “Grace is always present. All that is necessary is that you surrender to it.” These words felt alive in that small moment. Effort prepared the space. Grace deepened what effort could not complete. Openness allowed both to meet.
This temporary situation revealed something very reassuring. We need very little to live peacefully. Comfort is not always proportional to what we possess. Sometimes it is connected to how lightly we are able to live with what is present.
Even in situations that appear inconvenient, there can be a subtle nourishment. The rain that night did more than cool the air. It brought a quiet understanding that life is not carried by effort alone.
Sometimes we arrange the cooler. Sometimes the rain arrives. Sometimes all that is needed is the openness to let the air flow freely.
It is the divine grace of Bhagavan Ramana that made it possible to write this story. And in that meeting of effort and Grace, there is a natural peace.
At the foothills of Arunachala, the presence (Sannidhi) of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi who reigned with Silence as His throne remains a great sanctuary for seekers of liberation (mumukshus) worldwide. Bhagavan’s presence revealed to the world the exquisite paradox of how a profound silence could give birth to thousands of poetic verses. While His Ashram served as a university for scholars arriving for philosophical inquiry, it simultaneously flourished as a grand spiritual gallery for those who yearned to extol the Divine through the nuances of poetry and the gentle melodies of Tamil music.
From 1896 to 1950, the contributions of the poets and lyricists who adorned His court with grace-filled, divine Tamil were immeasurable. In that spiritual firmament, there are many shining stars; let us briefly look at a few guiding lights that stand out uniquely among them.
Introduction: The Poetic Splendor Flowing from Bhagavan’s Silence
Sri Ramana Maharshi was Himself an illustrious poet. Bhagavan was a beautiful paradox, embodying both the profound peace beyond words and the poetic mastery that commands them. Although He declared Silence to be His highest teaching, He graciously composed profound hymns of wisdom in Tamil, Telugu, Sanskrit, and Malayalam in response to the entreaties of His devotees.
Bhagavan’s presence was a magnificent magnet: it drew dry Vedantins and tender-hearted poets alike with equal power. The great waves emanating from His unmoving silence blossomed into poetic flowers in the hearts of many devotees, echoing in the air of the ashram to this day. It is exactly this contrast between His absolute stillness and the exuberant poetry it inspired that has rendered the works of His court poets timeless.
1. Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni (Nayana)
A great poet who had churned the ocean of the Sanskrit language, Ganapati Muni was a mighty ascetic (Maha Tapasvi). In 1907, standing on the brink of despair after years of rigorous penance without attaining peace of mind, he sought refuge in Bhagavan. Nayana’s learning the true meaning of ‘tapas’ from Bhagavan marked a crucial turning point in spiritual history.
The Glory of Naming: Thrilled to the core by this teaching, he bestowed the sacred name ‘Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi’ upon the sage who, until then had been known as ‘Brahmana Swami’ and ‘Venkataraman,’ thereby revealing this pillar of light to the world.
Literary Contributions:
Uma Sahasram: Nayana was to complete this epic of a thousand verses praising the grace of the Divine Mother within a strict deadline. On the final day, with Bhagavan Ramana in his presence, Nayana sat before Him and fluently sang the remaining verses to completion. He prays within it, “Just as the grace of Meenakshi purified Ramana, may it stand as a support for those suffering in the sorrows of Samsara.”
Sri Ramana Gita: A text composed in poetic verse chronicling Bhagavan’s teachings across 18 chapters (akin to the Bhagavad Gita). This stands as a highly significant work documenting Ramana’s social vision and spiritual equality.
Ramana Chatvarimsat: Composed by Nayana, this forty-verse Sanskrit hymn praises Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi as an incarnation of Lord Subrahmanya. Capturing his divine grace, supreme spiritual state, and role as the universal teacher, this devotional masterpiece is chanted daily at Sri Ramanasramam, continuing to inspire devotees today.
2. Muruganar: The Emperor of the Flood of Devotion
Muruganar is revered as the ‘Tamil Court Poet’ in Bhagavan’s assembly of grace. An absolute master of Tamil grammar, he surrendered all his poetic prowess entirely at the feet of Ramana after taking refuge in Him.
The Meeting and Transformation: Before going to meet Bhagavan in 1923, he composed a set of ten verses titled Desika Pathigam. Upon standing in Bhagavan’s presence, his face shriveled, and he stood with tears welling in his eyes. That single glance from Bhagavan annihilated Muruganar’s ego and ignited a poetic fire within his heart.
Immortal Works:
Sri Ramana Sannidhi Murai: A work par excellence, parallel to the Tiruvachakam, sung with overflowing devotion in the Nayaka-Nayaki bhava (viewing Bhagavan as the Lord and himself as the bride).
Guru Vachaka Kovai (The Garland of Guru’s Sayings): He flawlessly recorded the oral teachings Bhagavan imparted daily to devotees into more than 1,200 Venba verses, without the slightest distortion. This is the most precise repository of Ramana’s philosophy.
Upadesa Undiyar & Ulladu Narpadu: Muruganar was the instrumental cause for Bhagavan composing these supreme texts. When Muruganar requested Bhagavan to sing the teachings Lord Shiva imparted to the ascetics of the Daruka forest, it gave birth to Upadesa Undiyar.
3. Sivaprakasam Pillai: The First Seed of Self-Enquiry
Approaching Bhagavan as early as 1902, Sivaprakasam Pillai elicited teachings from Him that shook the very foundations of spirituality.
Who am I?: By posing the fundamental inquiry ‘Who am I?’ to Bhagavan and compiling the answers traced in the sand, he became the reason the world received the treasure of wisdom known as Nan Yar?
Vision of the Self and Surrender: His songs naturally capture the struggles of a simple spiritual seeker. When he could not visit the ashram in his old age, he consoled himself by writing philosophical verses: “Why do you yearn, not knowing what Ramana Darshan is? The form of Ramana is your very Self; to know yourself is the true Darshan.” He also composed Ramana Charitha Ahaval, a poetic work detailing Ramana Maharshi’s biography and His state of enlightenment.
4. Manavasi Ramaswami Iyer: The Melody of Surrender
Manavasi Ramaswami Iyer, an ordinary government servant, had no formal training in poetic grammar. Yet, driven by the supreme power of devotion, every song he composed was sweeter than honey.
Song of Surrender: In Virupaksha Cave, he cried out to Bhagavan, “Jesus came to save sinners; is there hope for a sinner like me?” Bhagavan compassionately replied, “Yes, there certainly is.” Born of that profound emotion was the famous song “Ennai Atkonda Ramana... Saranagati” (Ramana, who has taken me over... Surrender). Even today, when this song resonates in the ashram, devotees’ eyes brim with tears.
Divine Abode: Marveling at the light overflowing from Bhagavan’s eyes, he composed 27 verses. A disciple’s longing and a Guru’s compassion cannot be sung any more simply than this.
5. Jagadisa Sastri & Kapali Sastri: The Twin Pillars of Sanskrit
Both Jagadisa Sastri and Kapali Sastri were instrumental in carrying Bhagavan’s teachings beyond the South to reach North Indian scholars.
Jagadisa Sastri: He composed Sri Ramana Sahasranama Stuti, praising the 1,000 holy names of Bhagavan. The honor of translating Ramana’s Aksharamanamalai into Sanskrit also belongs to him.
Kapali Sastri: The foremost disciple of Ganapati Muni, he was immensely devoted to Ramana even while residing at Sri Aurobindo’s ashram. He wrote a profound exposition of Bhagavan’s philosophy in Ramana Gita Prakasam.
6. Sadhu Om: The Voice of Clarity
Sadhu Om lived as Muruganar’s steadfast companion and shadow. He undertook the monumental task of compiling Muruganar’s songs and elucidating their meanings.
Literary Contributions:
The Path of Sri Ramana (Sri Ramana Vazhi): He explained Self-Enquiry in prose with practical exercises, making it easily understandable even for laypeople.
Ramana Geetham: His line, “What stands as an obstacle to seeing oneself? Thoughts!” distills the essence of hundreds of philosophical books into a single sentence.
He also wrote hundreds of devotional Tamil hymns uniting deep love for Bhagavan with subtle spiritual truths. Never promoting himself, he dedicated his entire life to spreading the glory of Ramana.
His poetic mastery was profoundly endorsed by Bhagavan himself; when Muruganar lamented the declining standard of Tamil, Bhagavan handed him the manuscript of young Sadhu Om’s composition, Kuyil Vidu Thoodhu, declaring, “Here is the boy you wanted!”
7. Voices of Grace: Other Luminous Devotees
In addition to the above, there are many other devotees whose written works have eloquently written about the glory of Bhagavan and elucidated His teachings.
Suri Nagamma: She chronicled the daily events of the ashram and Bhagavan’s subtle movements in letters to her brother in Telugu. Although her Letters from Sri Ramanasramam is in prose, every line shines like devotional poetry.
Lakshmana Sarma (‘Who’): He learned the meaning of Ulladu Narpadu directly from Bhagavan and penned an outstanding commentary on it. He authored books like Maha Yoga in English, explaining Bhagavan’s philosophy in both verse and prose.
Viswanatha Swami: A scholar in Sanskrit, Tamil, and English, he played a major role in the ashram’s journal, The Mountain Path, and various other publications. A close attendant to Bhagavan, he refined and provided many of the daily devotional chants used in the ashram. Notably, he also wrote Sri Ramana Ashtottaram (108 Names of Bhagavan), which is chanted daily at Bhagavan’s Shrine.
Narayana Guru: The great architect of social and spiritual renaissance in Kerala and the Kumari districts, Narayana Guru composed a poem of five slokas titled Nirvriti Panchakam to honor Ramana Maharshi’s state of renunciation and greatness. He offered this to Ramana Maharshi through Swami Vidyananda.
G.V. Subbaramayya: An ardent Andhra devotee of Ramana, he wrote Sri Ramana Reminiscences as well as many songs in praise of the Maharshi. Notably, he affectionately metaphorized Ramana as the “Master-Thief” who steals everyone’s hearts. Furthermore, it was at his request that Ramana Maharshi selected 42 slokas from the Bhagavad Gita and offered them as Bhagavad Gita Saram for daily recitation.
Sathyamangalam Venkataramaiyar: He composed Ramana Stuti Panchakam and many other songs illustrating the glories of Ramana Maharshi.
Suddhananda Bharathi: He authored a comprehensive biography of Bhagavan Ramana titled Ramana Vijayam. He also composed numerous poems and devotional songs on Ramana.
Swami Natanananda (Natesa Mudaliar): He compiled Bhagavan Ramana’s teachings, giving us excellent texts like Upadesa Manjari and Upadesa Ratnavali.
Ramanatha Brahmachari: Harboring intense devotion for Bhagavan Ramana, he composed several devotional songs in His honor.
B.V. Narasimha Swami: Though not in poetic form, he was the first to write a highly detailed, beautiful, and literary biography of Bhagavan in English.
Beyond these illustrious figures, many other devotees and poets, such as Achuthadasa Swamigal, received Ramana’s grace and composed countless songs about Him.
8. Philosophical Background: The Essence of Advaita and Equal Vision
The songs of the Ramanachala poets are not mere hymns of praise; they are ‘verses of experience’ tested on the touchstone of Truth.
The Language of Silence. Ramana’s very presence, representing the state where “silence speaks,” is the foundation of these songs. Their poetry begins where words end.
Self-Enquiry. Eschewing descriptions of the external world, these poems emphasize uprooting the ego by turning inward and inquiring, “Who am I?”
9. Music and Worship: The Eternal Nada Echoing
Today, Songs like Aksharamanamalai, Upadesa Saram, and Ramana Chatvarimsat, sung regularly at Sri Ramanasramam, endure through devotion and dedication. These recitations create a certain vibration in the air, instantly bestowing mental focus and profound peace even upon newcomers to the Ashram.
10. Global Impact
These poetic hymns now resound beyond the Arunachala hill, echoing across the globe. Seekers like Paul Brunton and Arthur Osborne sought out Ramana, taking His glory to a worldwide audience through the English language.
Conclusion: The Confluence of a Great Ocean
The supreme power of Bhagavan Ramana’s Silence surged forth as words, songs, and poetry in the hearts of these poets. Ganapati Muni’s monumental intellect, Muruganar’s melting devotion, Sadhu Om’s sharp clarity, and Manavasi Ramaswami Iyer’s simple surrender all converged upon a single point—the holy feet of Bhagavan Ramana.
The service rendered by this ‘Spiritual Court of Poets’ in the shadow of Arunachala will endure forever, transcending time. Each of these songs is not mere literature penned on blank pages; they are roadmaps for the journey toward the liberation of the human soul. The lives of these poets stand as living proof to the spiritual truth: “Whoever sings the glory of Ramana, becomes Ramana Himself.” Through the verses of these poets, the Silent Preceptor of Arunachala continues to speak to us today, defying the boundaries of time.
Around 1910 or 1911, a visitor named Satyamangalam Venkatarama Iyer[1] arrived at the feet of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. Deeply moved by the supreme wisdom of His presence, he composed five glorious hymns in praise of Bhagavan, which later came to be known as Sri Ramana Stuti Panchakam. Subsequently, many devotees came to believe that it was Arunachala Himself who had come in human form to sing the glories of Bhagavan.
This glorification of Bhagavan’s presence was not a solitary occurrence. A similar moment unfolded a few years later, sparking a glorious creation of voluminous poetry on Bhagavan’s Grace.
On the night of May 19, 1922, as His mother, Alagammal, left her physical body at Skandasramam, Bhagavan requested that Tiruvasagam[2] (sacred hymns to Shiva) be chanted throughout the night. The atmosphere of that evening was vividly captured by Kunjuswami: “Bhagavan sat beside the seated body of his mother. Brahmachari Arunachala Swami had been serving in the Arunachaleswar Temple kitchen, before taking sannyasa and becoming a devotee of Bhagavan. He and I stood by Bhagavan’s side. Bhagavan wanted to have Tiruvasagam recited. We began chanting the lines alternately in turn, that is, Bhagavan would chant a couple of lines and then we would chant the following two lines. Now and then during our recital Bhagavan corrected our mispronunciations. In this manner we completed the recital of the entire Tiruvasagam by four a.m.”
In the recorded history of Bhagavan’s life, Tiruvasagam holds a unique distinction, as it remains the only sacred work that Bhagavan is known to have recited in its entirety. Against this backdrop, it is no surprise that even before Muruganar had ever heard of Bhagavan, he carried a singular, burning desire: to behold the Divine in the same transcendent light that Manickavasagar once used to glorify Lord Shiva. By a remarkable coincidence, this inner longing reached its peak in 1922, the very year Bhagavan sat at Skandasramam reciting Tiruvasagam in its entirety. At the same time that Bhagavan was chanting, we can envisage how Muruganar also was being stirred to his depths. Is it another instance of divine reciprocity, a silent call from the Master that drew the devotee to Arunachala just one year later to sing His glories in the same grammatical structure as Tiruvasagam?
Irrespective of our interpretations, this spiritual yearning found its culmination in 1923, when Muruganar finally came face-to-face with Bhagavan. There he found manifested in a human form the very inner reality that he had sought in the ancient verses.
Muruganar dedicated the subsequent five decades to singing Bhagavan’s glories. His first major work, Sri Ramana Sannidhi Murai, was not merely a tribute, it was a masterpiece that mirrored the structural beauty and the spiritual depth of Tiruvasagam itself. The full extent of this connection was eventually declared by Bhagavan Himself. In a rare gesture of validation, Bhagavan composed a verse[3] declaring that Muruganar’s work was equivalent to that of Tiruvasagam.
As we delve deeper into the Kīrttit Tiru-Ahaval in Sri Ramana Sannidhi Murai, Muruganar paints a luminous portrait of Bhagavan’s Grace. In the following lines, it becomes evident that it was this very Grace that acted as a spiritual magnet, drawing Muruganar to sing the glories of Bhagavan in the style of Tiruvasagam.
யந்திர மந்திர தந்திரம் எல்லாம்
அந்தரம் ஆகும் அதீத போதனையால்
சலிக்கும் மனத்தைச் சலம்அறு மூல
நிலைக்கண் நிறுத்தும் நெறிஅறி வித்துக்
குருவாய் இந்தக் குக்கலை ஆண்டு
திருவாசகம் போல் ஒருவா சகச்சீர்
கூடா எதனையும் கூட்டுவிக் கும்தன்
வாடா அருளால் வாழ்த்துவித்து ஆங்கே (103-110)
Meaning: Bypassing the elaborate rituals of Vedas, the intricate yantras, mantras, and tantras, Bhagavan simply drew my restless, oscillating mind back to its Source through the glorious path of Self-Enquiry. To one like me, who was lower than a dog, He revealed Himself as the Supreme Being and Satguru. It is His Grace alone that empowers the impossible; only by His benevolence could a being such as mine utter words equivalent to Tiruvasagam, singing the glories of His infinite greatness.
Muruganar’s assertion is far from poetic exaggeration; it is a deeply realized truth born of his direct experience. As a pure instrument of Bhagavan’s Grace, Muruganar is uniquely qualified to describe the process by which the Sage’s Grace transformed his heart into a fount of sacred poetry. The “Tiruvasagam-like” quality of his poetry was neither a literary pursuit nor an imitation, but a spontaneous overflow of the same natural state that Bhagavan epitomized.
This “skipping” of traditional stages was made possible by the most surgical precision of the direct path: Self-Enquiry. By relentlessly pursuing “Who am I?”, Muruganar allowed Bhagavan’s Grace to dissolve the “ever-oscillating mind” back into its source.
Thus, the words found in Sri Ramana Sannidhi Murai are not Muruganar’s own, they are the voice of the Self, echoing the same eternal truth found in Tiruvasagam. He did not just write about the Truth, he became a conduit for it, proving that the Master’s Grace can indeed make the “impossible” a living reality.
As we continue through this poem, Muruganar describes the gathering of various seekers, poets, and singers at Bhagavan’s feet. These poets and singers of his generation were like bees, instinctively drawn to Bhagavan’s abode as if to a garden of fresh, dew-laden flowers. It was not mere curiosity that brought these great minds to Arunachala, but the honey of pure Grace. In Bhagavan’s presence, their talent was not merely exercised, it was sanctified and offered back to the Source as the greatest surrender.
புலவர் பலரைப் பொன்னடிக்கு ஆர்த்து
பலசொன் மாலை பாடுவித்து அருளியும்
இசைவல் லோர்பலர் இன்னிசைத் தேனை
நசையொடு மாந்தி நலம்பல நல்கியும்
துன்பநிலை காணார் தோய்ந்தார் தம்முளத்து
இன்பவெள்ள மடைதிறந்து ஏறப் பாய்ச்சியும்
கன்மம் பரமென கட்டுண் டவர்க்குஅவ்
வன்மம் கெடமெய்ம் மாண்பை உணர்த்தியும்
துவிதாத் துவிதப் போர்தொடாது அன்பர்
அவிதாக் குரலிட ஆவென்று அருளியும் (111-120)
Meaning: Drawing countless poets to Your sacred feet, You shower Your Grace upon them, inspiring the creation of magnificent garlands of verses. In Your presence, master musicians pour forth their hearts, their songs overflowing with the sweet honey of devotion. For those who surrender at Your feet, the suffering born of the restless ego is dissolved, replaced by an unfolding of divine love within the heart. To those who believe that action (Karma) is the sole path to the Supreme, You reveal the majesty of the Self, that which remains untouched by and transcends all actions. Rising above the philosophical disputes of Advaita and Dvaita, You offer a direct sanctuary. To those who seek only Your love and surrender, You benevolently grant the direct experience of the Self.
In this verse, Muruganar emphasizes that seeking Bhagavan’s Grace through heart-melting love for His presence is the supreme path to liberation. That very love pours forth as sublime poetry, composed in a variety of meters and languages by many great poets, all created with the sole intent of being dedicated to Bhagavan’s feet. Likewise, many musicians sing heart-melting songs to express their devotion, softening the hearts of all who hear them. For those who harbour this love, Bhagavan ensures that their distress and suffering disappear in the light of His presence.
Bone-melting love — a primordial, non-intellectual, and radical simplicity — is revealed as the ultimate path to surrender. When this love is transformed into outward actions performed with a sense of ego, the devotion becomes distracted and acts as an obstacle to realization. Similarly, if one engages in intellectual debate regarding the superiority of a particular philosophy, the attention is drawn away from inner awareness. This simple love, when expressed through the intellect, may discover and engage with the world, but it risks forgetting the immediate purity of the Source.
For those devotees anchored in love and absolute surrender, Bhagavan graciously absorbs the entirety of their burdens. He has provided a direct and eternal assurance in this regard: “Surrender to Him and abide by His will whether he appears or vanishes; await His pleasure. If you ask Him to do as you please, it is not surrender but command to Him. You cannot have Him obey you and yet think that you have surrendered. He knows what is best and when and how to do it. Leave everything entirely to Him. His is the burden: you no longer have any cares. All your cares are His. Such is surrender. This is bhakti.”[4]
The welfare of those who have truly surrendered is no longer their own concern, but His. By placing their lives at His feet, they are brought under a sovereign protection that transcends all worldly anxiety. Muruganar enumerates all the ways Bhagavan absorbs the burdens of such loving devotees in the following section.
அன்பர்தம் பொல்லா அரிஷ்டம் அனைத்துமேற்று
என்பு தோலாத் திருமேனி இளைத்தும்
குறியாய் ஒழுகும் குலவடி யார்க்குப்
பறியா மருந்தாய்ப் பழவினை பாற்றியும்
இயக்கும் பதத்தை எண்ணி மனத்தால்
உயக் கும்பிடுவார் மயக்கம் ஒழித்தும்
சோத்தமாய் அடித்தடம் தோய்ந்தார்க் கிரங்கித்
தீர்த்தமாய் ஆணவ மாசுதீர்த் தருளியும் (121-128)
Meaning: Bearing the heavy burden of His devotees’ sorrows, His sacred form grew frail and weathered by the weight of His Grace. For those devotees whose sole focus is the path of Realization, He is the inexhaustible medicinal leaves of a sacred tree, providing the only cure for ancient vasanas. To those who yearn for and worship the Supreme Reality within their hearts, He dissolves every delusion born of their ego. And for those who surrender at His holy feet with love, He is the sacred water that washes away the final traces of egoic tendency, bestowing a great peace.
In these lines, Muruganar echoes a poignant observation made by many devotees of that era: that Bhagavan’s physical frailty was a direct consequence of His assuming the heavy burdens of those who had surrendered to Him. Yet, Bhagavan Himself remained utterly indifferent to His physical form, neither identifying with its condition nor concerned for its preservation. He once described his true form in the following words: “Ramana Sadguru refers to the unlimited, All Pervasive Paramatma, who illuminates the hearts of all beings and not to the limited body.”[5]
Bhagavan’s repeatedly urged His devotees to pursue the truth of the Self, undistracted by the anxieties and burdens that weigh upon the mind or the body. In His seminal work, Who Am I, He provides this great assurance: “Whatever burdens are thrown on God, He bears them. Since the supreme power of God makes all things move, why should we, without submitting ourselves to it, constantly worry ourselves with thoughts as to what should be done and how, and what should not be done and how not? We know that the train carries all loads, so after getting on it why should we carry our small luggage on our head to our discomfort, instead of putting it down in the train and feeling at ease?”[6] Muruganar reiterates this in the following verse.
சிவக்கும் படிமனம் சிந்திப் பவர்தம்
பவக்கம்பத் துணுக்கு அறப் பாலித்தும்
பழுத்த தொழும்பர் விழுத்தொழும்பு ஏற்றிச்
செழித்த மெய்ஞ்ஞானம் திறம்பட நல்கியும்
வழிதுணை யாய்அடி வழிபடு வாரை
விழுத்துணை யாய்உயர் வீட்டிற் கூட்டியும் (129-134)
Meaning: For those who, undiverted by all else, anchor the full power of the mind within the Heart, which radiates eternally as ‘I-am-I,’ He removes the burdensome cycles of birth and death. To those who dedicate themselves to Your service, You assume the entirety of their burdens, bestowing in their place the true wisdom of the Self. And for those who look to You as the light for their journey, You become their unerring Guide, leading them until they reach their ultimate destiny: the true abode of the Self.
While every attempt of a devotee to serve Him is met with His benevolent guidance towards the Supreme Abode, Muruganar’s verse clarifies that physical service alone is incomplete without steadfast adherence to Bhagavan’s core teaching: abide in the Self that shines in the heart eternally as ‘I-am-I.’ Bhagavan gave an emphatic declaration of the purpose of service as “To perform one’s duty carefully is the greatest service to God.”[7]
Sadhu Natanananda once gave an account of Bhagavan clarifying the purpose of the true service. “In the name of service to the Guru, they should not waste their time in activities and become disappointed later. Such people will have cause to regret their ignorance in their last days. One should not forget, even for a moment, the aim of satsang. Having the belief that residence in the ashram will make Self-realisation, which is most difficult to achieve in other places, easy to attain, one should always remain intent upon the realisation of one’s true nature. There is no meaning in people who are not interested in that [Self-realisation] taking this place to be a special place. The spiritual service that devotees render to themselves by exerting themselves on the spiritual path for the attainment of their goal – that alone is sacred service to the Guru.”[8]
Bhagavan also gave further clarity about who the Satguru is and what is meant by reaching His holy feet in service: “Only the Supreme Self, which is ever shining in your Heart as the reality, is the Satguru. The pure awareness, which is shining as the inward illumination ‘I’, is his gracious feet. The contact with these [inner holy feet] alone can give you true redemption. Joining the eye of reflected consciousness [chidabhasa], which is your sense of individuality [jiva bodha], to those holy feet, which are the real consciousness, is the union of the feet and the head that is the real significance of the word ‘asi’. As these inner holy feet can be held naturally and unceasingly, hereafter, with an inward-turned mind, cling to that inner awareness that is your own real nature. This alone is the proper way for the removal.”[9]
In light of these words, it becomes clear that when Muruganar arrived at Bhagavan’s feet, singing His glories with the same heart-melting fervor as Manickavasagar, he provided more than mere praise. Once we transcend the dualities of our minds, it becomes abundantly clear that the true purpose of his verses is to serve as a call for all who encounter them to abide in the non-dual wisdom of the Self, eternally bestowed by Bhagavan, as the true service to His holy feet. What began on the night of May 19, 1922 with the recital of Tiruvasagam by the Supreme was answered: the Self began to sing songs of Its own glory that would not cease for another half a century. Poured forth in the pristine cadence of Tamil, this divine melody continues to resonate, drawing all hearts back into the radiance of the One from whom the song first emerged. To quote Muruganar again, “It is His Grace alone that empowers the impossible.”
(To be continued.)
1 Arunachala Ramana – Eternal Ocean of Grace, Part 1, pp 124. ↩
2 Works of Manickavasagar. ↩
3 This verse begins with the phrase, Agatharamai, is attributed to Swami Viswathanan in the introductory section of Sri Ramana Sannidhi Murai. ↩
4 From talk 450 in Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi. ↩
5 Pp 200 in Surpassing Love and Grace. ↩
6 Question 18 in Who Am I? ↩
7 Talk 227 in Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi. ↩
8 The Maharshi Newsletter, Jan 2022. ↩
9 Pp 35, Sri Ramana Darsanam. ↩
When a yearning heart prays earnestly, the entire universe conspires to fulfill the prayer. Eleanor wished for inner peace and good health, she was tired and had been fighting depression, health issues, personal problems and had slept fitfully for a number of years. She wanted to get away from her familiar surroundings, sail across the world, visit places and find herself. Her twin sister also urged her to make the trip, away from the familiar surroundings would make her see things in the right perspective. She had no inkling of the surprises that awaited her, as she set sail in a ship bound for India. Little did she dream that her life would change and she would find happiness and love in the most unexpected way, the gift of the universe to her. The atman reveals itself to whom it chooses, says the Upanishads.
In Eleanor’s case it was most true, because she had no idea about Ramana Maharshi, nor had she set out from California in search of a guru. It was the Universe that led her, she followed her inner promptings and disembarked in Madras instead of Calcutta as originally planned. From Madras, she took a detour to Kodaikanal and when she heard about the Maharshi, in a chance questioning at the hotel, she took a train to Tiruvannamalai to reach the ashram in the year, 1939.
At the ashram gate Eleanor was cordially greeted by Niranjananda Swami and other devotees. Eleanor waited for Bhagavan to come down the hill, and when she saw him, she was instantly drawn to him. She describes her impressions in the most beautiful words: “As I entered it I felt the atmosphere was filled with Sri Bhagavan’s Purity and Blessedness. One feels a breath of the Divine in the Sage’s presence. He was sitting on a couch, clad only in a loin-cloth, surrounded by His devotees. When He smiled it was as though the gates of Heaven were thrown open. I have never seen eyes more alight with Divine Illumination — they shine like stars. He greeted me very tenderly and made some enquiries about me, which put me at ease. His look of Love and Compassion was a benediction that went straight to my heart. I was immediately drawn to Him. His gentleness and kindness is all-embracing. One feels such an uplifting influence in His saintly Presence and cannot help but sense His extraordinary spirituality. It is not necessary for Him to talk. His silent influence of Love and Light is more potent than words could ever be. I did not know what manner of man I expected to find. But once I saw Him, I said to myself, “Surely, no one like Sri Bhagavan! I do not think there is another like Him on earth today. To see Him is to love Him.”
That evening, very briefly Eleanor introduced herself to Bhagavan. Later, she was accommodated in the Traveller’s Bungalow, as women were not permitted to stay overnight in the ashram. Although she had not told Bhagavan about her insomnia, she was surprised that for the first time in years, she had a sound sleep, without resorting to sleeping pills. Next morning, she woke up refreshed, and felt that she was born anew. The day promised to be a beautiful one and she was eager to experience it in Bhagavan’s presence.
Eleanor settled down to the daily routine of the ashram. One day, as Bhagavan was coming down the hill from his morning walk, and she was waiting for him along with the other devotees, he gave her a kindly look and asked her if she felt more at peace. She replied in the affirmative and he smiled his gentle compassionate smile, which warmed her heart and brought tears of gratitude to her eyes. She was indeed more at peace than ever, absorbing the Grace that flowed from the physical presence of Bhagavan. The mental anguish, her health problems, and her anxieties evaporated in the joy of Bhagavan’s presence and his loving concern for her. As the days passed, she relaxed and a change came over her, she was transformed into a happy and joyful person. Bhagavan instructed her to inquire into the source of her long-time affliction by observing the mind and getting rid of the false notion of contradictory thoughts as the Self was ever pure. He said, the agony that she felt was the result of the mind, once the root of the mind was found, the false notions would disappear by itself. Eleanor wept tears of gratitude as she felt the heavy burden lifted off her shoulders. Her free flow of tears expressing her deep gratitude earned her a nickname of a ‘weeping widow’. Bhagavan once remarked, to a devotee, ‘If you can cry tears for not finding God, he will not be able to hide himself.’ She had captured Bhagavan’s heart through her tears!
After two months of stay at the ashram, Eleanor had to return to the USA, and she took leave of Bhagavan, to tour the country for a month before proceeding to California. She shed tears before him, reluctant to leave the one place she had found solace in, the place where she had found her mother, father and her God in Bhagavan. Bhagavan consoled her with these words from Tiruvachakam: False am I; my heart too is false, and my love also is false. Yet, bound by tainted karma, I can win You by crying for You. Nectar! Essence of the sugar cane! Sweet Lord! Grant to me in Grace, your devotee, the path that leads to union with Thee! (Tiru Chadakam, 9.10). Bhagavan further assured Eleanor that he would always be with her, wherever she would go.
Eleanor was returning home after resolving her mental afflictions and her health problems. However, she felt that her journey was not complete as she was now drawn to the spiritual journey. She had much more to learn and explore about her Self, so, she canceled her journey and came back from Calcutta to Tiruvannamalai, which she now considered her true home. Bhagavan greeted her affectionately, and with such tenderness, that she wept with joy, certain that it was Bhagavan who willed her to come back. She wept with joy at the blessings she received from Bhagavan and the opportunity to be near him again.
Eleanor basked in the radiant light of Bhagavan’s care, and his silent presence filled her heart with His Grace. All that she did in the ashram, from cutting vegetables to helping in the kitchen work, having food along with him, were a source of bubbling joy and her heart was full. There was always a lesson to be learnt in Bhagavan’s presence, he was always considerate to everyone. He wanted to be sure there was plenty of everything; and the rich and the poor received the same kind attention, as also the animals; there was no discrimination based on gender, caste, or man and animal. One day Eleanor saw Bhagavan bending down to pick a few grains of rice, and that simple act taught her much more than what she could ever learn from studying books. Each day brought new lessons and Blessings. Bhagavan grew nearer and dearer to her as time passed and her only wish was to be by His side.
Eleanor was present in the ashram during Bhagavan’s birthday celebrations in 1939. She was full of awe and happiness as the day enfolded, bringing thousands of devotees and visitors to the ashram to wish Bhagavan and seek his blessings. A huge pandal was erected and Bhagavan sat on the couch majestically, amidst garlands of flowers, with the visitors and devotees around him. It was a glorious sight to watch the devotees so happy to be around their master and wish him on that day. Special arrangements were made by the authorities to feed all those who came to greet him; the day was full of rejoicing and thanksgiving for everyone, even the animals.
Eleanor was touched by the concern of the kitchen cooks, they cooked special dishes for her, keeping her food habits in mind. One day, at lunchtime, Bhagavan’s three-year-old grand-nephew Ganesan, went up to her and insisted on eating from her plate. The lady cooks tried to keep him away, but he bawled in protest. Seeing the commotion, Bhagavan asked the cooks to bring a plate and a spoon for the child; Bhagavan resolved the issue as he said, Ganesan was not crying to eat from her plate but to eat with a spoon. Everyone was happy that Bhagavan solved Ganesan’s problem.
Eleanor loved the monsoons in India, when everything was washed anew and the air had a fresh and clean smell and the earth looked radiant with green. When it rained the weather turned cool. The attendants would cover Bhagavan’s chest with a towel, and she recalled fondly that he looked like a sweet child wearing a bib, and for all his wisdom and greatness, he was by nature natural and childlike. Sometimes, as Bhagavan sat with a faraway gaze, he looked like the King of Kings. His poise and dignity were outstanding. Occasionally during night times, he would wrap a shawl over his head, at such times he looked like the Madonna; Eleanor admired his different looks and would stand silently looking at him. Some other time he looked like a devoted father, smiling upon his children affectionately. She was irresistibly drawn to Bhagavan’s physical beauty and all his moods were enshrined in her heart.
One day, Eleanor picked a rose intent on giving it to Bhagavan. When she entered the hall, she felt shy and placed the rose on the stool in front of him. Bhagavan asked her what it was and asked her to give the rose to him. She was touched by his nobility, and cried.
Eleanor loved Arunachala, the sacred mountain stole into her heart in silence and its beautiful peak reminded her of the tremendous spiritual power that emanated from it, attracting genuine seekers. She loved climbing the hill along with Bhagavan and the other devotees. She described the pradakshina on full moon nights, when it was truly inspiring to go around it basking in the silvery light and listening to the silence of the hill.
Bhagavan had told her, “Be Still and know That I Am God.” Those were among the first words spoken by Bhagavan to her and also the last ones as she was leaving for America. She meditated on those holy words and as time went by, they acquired a deeper meaning which filled her heart with love and bliss.
After five more months of stay in the ashram, the time came once again to bid adieu, to the love she found in Bhagavan, to the sacred hill and the ashram devotees. Her reservoir of tears was overflowing with anguish at the thought of leaving her master and Bhagavan also sensed her sorrow. Bhagavan also knew that it would be some time when she visited them again and he was most kind and solicitous with her. They walked up the hill together along with other devotees and also had a picture taken on the hill that day. As they climbed down the hill, her heart grew numb and heavy. He was kind and tender and when he smiled at her, she could not help the tears rolling down her eyes. The little monkeys stood on either side of the hilly path and Bhagavan asked them to come and say goodbye to her. When we reached the hall, Bhagavan read a few comforting passages from Psalm 139: 7-10. Later, some more pictures were taken in the hall. That evening, contrary to rules of women devotees staying late in the ashram, Bhagavan asked her to join for the last supper together. She felt blessed to have that last meal with Bhagavan, and the experience remained etched in her memory. When it was time to say goodbye, she went to him for his blessing and wept at his feet, her heart overflowing with adoration and love. Eleanor was leaving Bhagavan, who was dearer to her than life itself. She dedicated her entire life to him, and loved him till she breathed her last.
After taking leave of all the ashram devotees she returned to California. But now her entire life was changed, she could only think of Bhagavan and lived her life with the same gentleness that Bhagavan exhibited. She kept in touch with the ashram all her life. When Bhagavan would read her letters, his heart would well up and eyes would flow down his cheeks, for he knew how much she loved him. In an article written in 1946 (six years after she left the Ashram), she says: “I would like to say that I have felt the Master’s Presence more and more with the passage of time, just as He said I would. My devotion and faith have grown through the years and will never be shaken under any circumstance. I am very happy to say that I shall be returning soon to my Beloved Master. I hear His call!”
However, she was unable to return back for many years, due to the War, and later because of stringent travel restrictions. In the year 1946, Sri K. K. Nambiar, a long-standing devotee of Bhagavan, was on an official tour to that part of America. The Ashram authorities wrote to him to pay a visit to Mrs. Noye at her home in San Fernando Valley, North Hollywood.
Eleanor met Nambiar and the two devotees had a wonderful time talking about Bhagavan and her days at the ashram. They also spent time meditating on Bhagavan, and Nambiar wrote about the experiences in his book, The Guiding Presence of Sri Ramana. He said he actually felt Bhagavan’s living presence, so far away, as if he was in the ashram. Eleanor was also happy and content, that she could meet someone from India, in the US.
Eleanor could finally come to Tiruvannamalai in 1950, when Bhagavan was ailing. After His Mahasamadhi in the month of April, she returned to Madras and before sailing home, stayed for about six weeks with Sri Nambiar and family at their residence.
She kept in touch with the ashram till the very end, by correspondence. This frail lady who came to Bhagavan for solace left with his feet firmly planted in her heart. Though living so far away, she is felt Bhagavan’s Presence there even today, for, hasn’t He told her that He would be with her wherever she went?
Excerpt from Women Devotees of Bhagavan.
The spiritual philosophy of Bhagavān represents one of the most profound and unalloyed expressions of Advaita Vedānta in the modern era. A central pillar of his teaching is hṛdaya.
This hṛdaya is the spiritual heart located on the right, distinct from the biological heart and is the true state of all beings. The previous parts of this series explored the Muktakatrayam and Bhagavān’s ecstatic āryāgīti composition, Śrī Aruṇācala Pañcaratnam (SAP), detailing how its first two ślokas lay the metaphysical groundwork.
We now turn our attention to the third śloka (of SAP) that transitions from pure metaphysics to the mechanics of liberation.
Śloka 3 of SAP - Atma Vicāra
The third śloka perfectly encapsulates Bhagavān’s core teaching of Atma Vicāra (Self-Inquiry). It outlines the precise inward trajectory of consciousness required to dismantle the illusory ego and merge into the Absolute.
To fully apprehend the magnitude and nuance of this important śloka, it is necessary to subject it to rigorous textual, philological, and philosophical cross-examination. The Anvaya-mukhī Ṭīkā[1] (अन्वय-मुखी टीका) for the 3rd śloka is as follows:
[हे] अरुणाचल! अहम् इति [वृत्तिः] कुतः आयाति इति अन्विष्य, अन्तः
[हृदय-लक्षणं स्व-मूलं प्रति] प्रविष्टया अति-अमल-धिया
स्वं रूपं [स्व-सत्ता शुद्ध-चैतन्य-मूलात् एव प्राप्ता इति] अवगम्य,
अब्धौ नदी [नाम-रूप-त्यागेन] इव, [सा धीः अविद्या-निवृत्त्या]
त्वयि शाम्यति [एकीभवति]॥
[he] aruṇācala! aham iti [vṛttiḥ] kutaḥ āyāti iti anviṣya, antaḥ
[hṛdaya-lakṣaṇaṃ sva-mūlaṃ prati] praviṣṭayā ati-amala-dhiyā
svam rūpam [sva-sattā śuddha-caitanya-mūlāt eva prāptā iti] avagamya, abdhau nadī [nāma-rūpa-tyāgena] iva, [sā dhīḥ
avidyā-nivṛttyā]
tvayi śāmyati [ekībhavati] ||
“O Aruṇācala ! By inquiring ‘From where does this I-thought arise?’, the supremely pure intellect turns its attention entirely inward toward its Source, the Heart. Having realized that its very existence is borrowed from its Source of pure Consciousness, that intellect sheds its ignorance and dissolves to become entirely one with You — just as a river gives up its name and form to merge peacefully into the ocean.”
As it can be seen from the meaning, within this single, highly compressed śloka, Bhagavān articulates four distinct, chronological stages of the liberation process. Each stage represents a specific epistemological shift required of the practitioner. We will now present each stage in detail and analyze the words (of Anvaya-mukhī Ṭīkā) relevant to that stage.
Stage 1 - The Prerequisite Instrument: Supremely Pure Intellect and antaḥ (Ahamukham)
First let us consider the words of this stage and their meaning:
antaḥ: within;
[hṛdaya-lakṣaṇaṃ sva-mūlaṃ prati]: [towards its own Source, which is characterized as the Spiritual Heart];
praviṣṭayā: by entering / by directing itself;
ati-amala-dhiyā: with a supremely pure intellect;
The opening condition stipulates that the inquiry must be conducted with a “supremely pure” intellect that is turned inward. Some would translate the word dhiyā as mind. But dhiyā literally means intellect. In the Tamil version of this śloka, Bhagavān uses the phrase “amala matiyāl” (அமல மதியால்). “Mati” (மதி) specifically means intellect, intelligence, or discernment. It does not mean the general, wavering mind. Further, Bhagavān defines “dhih = intellect.”[2]
A “purified intellect” is sharp, deeply focused, and capable of slicing through ignorance to find its own Source, otherwise known as Sattvic Buddhi and is the instrument of realization. The practice of Atma Vicāra is not about calming emotions; it is a direct assault on the root of ignorance; it is an active, razor-sharp investigation. “The mind is a bundle of thoughts. But the source of all thoughts is the I-thought.”[3] The purified intellect (dhī) is the sharp, inward-facing faculty of discernment that tracks the singular, foundational “I-thought” back to its divine Source.
Lord Kṛṣṇa declares that “the Sattvic intellect discriminates between bondage and liberation, gives up the former, and follows the path of Moksha. It gives up the world which causes fear, takes to the path of Brahman, and attains fearlessness and joy.”[4]
Bhagavān stipulates, “Just as (one plunges) into the deep water of a well (restraining breath and speech to recover a fallen object), so too, one must plunge deeply within using a highly sharpened intellect, restraining the breath and speech, one should realize the root-nature (or source) of one’s own ego.”[5] The method called “plunge” by a highly sharpened intellect is suggested and this is the litmus test of supremely pure intellect. An earnest whole-hearted attempt involves the gathering of all one’s divided interests and dissipated energy into a concentrated effort.
When the śloka says the intellect “enters within,” it is not talking about a physical, geographical location inside the biological body.
The Shift from Object to Subject: Usually, the intellect operates in Bahirmukham (outward-facing), cognizing second and third-person objects. The prerequisite for liberation is that the intellect ceases to grasp at external data and instead turns its gaze upon the first-person subject— the observer itself. This denotes a complete 180-degree inversion of the intellect’s normal operational trajectory to gaze at its own root (Ahamukham).
The Heart (hṛdaya): Bhagavān often called this “within” the Spiritual Heart.
Śri Muruganar in Guru Vachaka Kovai mocks the tragedy of those who turn outward:[6]
அயல் ஆம் புலம் சுட்டு அறிவு ஆன தன்மெய்
இயலே பிடிப்பாய் இருக்க — முயல்வார்
உழல்கின்ற ஆறு மற்று ஒன்று பற்றி வெற்று
நிழல் சென்று பற்றலே நேர்.
ayal ām pulam suṭṭu aṟivu āṉa taṉmey
iyalē piḍippāy irukka — muyalvār
uzhalkiṉdṟa āṟu matṟtṟu oṉdṟu patṟtṟi vetṟtṟu
nizhal ceṉdṟu patṟtṟalē nēr.
“While one’s own true nature (the Self) — which is the pure consciousness that acts as the underlying source for the objective knowledge pointing to external sense objects — remains as the only true support to hold onto, the way ignorant seekers wander by grasping onto other things is exactly like running after an empty shadow to catch it.”
Śri Muruganar warns what the intellect must not do. If the intellect functions as objective knowledge (suṭṭu arivu) and tries to grasp external things (matṟtṟu oṉdṟu patṟtṟi), it is doing the exact opposite of Atma Vicāra. It is doomed to wander and suffer (Uzhalkiṉdṟa āṟu). Chasing the “empty shadow” (வெற்று நிழல்/vetṟtṟu nizhal) is chasing the illusion; turning around to face the source of the Light is finding the true nature (தன் மெய் இயல்/than mei iyal).
Stage 1 thus prescribes that the intellect should not only be pure but also that the inward “U-turn” (towards the hṛdaya) is absolutely non-negotiable!
Stage 2 - The Method of Scrutiny: The Core of Atma-Vicāra
Let us first look at the meaning of the words (of Anvaya-mukhī Ṭīkā) of śloka 3, relevant to this stage:
[he] Aruṇācala: O Arunachala! (The Absolute Reality);
aham: ‘I’; iti: thus;
[vṛttiḥ]: [the thought-modification / the root ego-thought];
kutaḥ: from where; āyāti: arises/comes; iti: thus;
anviṣya: by actively inquiring/searching
This is the active investigation stage into the source of the ego: “Where does this ‘I’ rise?”. This is the functional core of Atma-Vicāra. Bhagavān does not instruct the practitioner to ask “Who am I?” as an intellectual puzzle to be solved through philosophical deduction. Rather, the inquiry is deeply phenomenological. The practitioner is tasked with maintaining an acute, hyper-vigilant observation of the arising of the ‘I’-thought, the first and fundamental identification of the ego; without the ‘I’, nothing else can exist. By tracking this primary thought back to its exact point of emergence, the practitioner initiates the process of cognitive unravelling.
Saddarśanaṃ provides a vital epistemological boundary for the practice, warning against a common pitfall encountered by practitioners: “Without uttering the word ‘I’ by mouth, diving inward with a mind seeking the source from which the ‘I’ arises — this alone is the path of Atma Vicāra. Merely meditating ‘I am not this (the body), I am That (Brahman)’ is only an aid; it does not constitute the actual inquiry.”[7]
When a practitioner is instructed to scrutinize “Where does this ‘I’ rise?”, the intellect, seeking to avoid its own demise, often attempts to answer the question through verbal or mental repetition. Seekers may adopt traditional Vedāntic formulas, reciting Aham Brahmasmi (I am Brahman) or practicing Neti, Neti (Not this, not this). Bhagavān is incredibly strict here and explicitly categorizes such practices as mere preliminary aids, firmly distinguishing them from actual Atma Vicāra. He clarifies that the scrutiny (anviṣya) in Stage 2 is non-verbal and non-conceptual. It is not replacing one thought with a “better” spiritual thought. The search must be done silently, by “diving inward” and actively feeling/tracing the root of the “I-thought” before it becomes a word. It is an existential sinking of awareness into its own ontological root. The ego does not think about the Heart; it must physically and cognitively subside into it, bypassing language & logic entirely.
In Darpaṇam, the Saṃskṛta commentary on SAP, T V Kapali Śāstrī states:[8]
अहमिति अहमिति धीः स्मृतिर्वा कुतः कस्मात् आयाति आगच्छति ? उदेतीति यावत्।
ahamiti ahamiti dhīḥ smṛtirvā kutaḥ kasmāt āyāti āgacchati?
udetīti yāvat |
“The intellect (dhīḥ) or memory [that continuously manifests as] ‘I’, ‘I’—from where (kutaḥ), from what source (kasmāt) does it arrive (āyāti/āgacchati)? That is to say, from where does it rise (udeti)?”
Śāstrī pairs “intellect” (dhīḥ) with “memory” (smṛtiḥ). He is pointing out that the ego is essentially a continuous memory-loop of identifying as an individual. The practitioner’s job is to intercept this loop at its exact point of emergence (udeti) before it can fully form.
‘अहं ब्रह्माऽस्मि’ इत्यादिवृत्तिविचारनिरपेक्षं स्वरूपान्वेषणं साक्षात्साधनं निरालम्बमुपदिष्टम्।
‘ahaṃ brahmā’smi’ ityādi-vṛtti-vicāra-nirapekṣaṃ
svarūpānveṣaṇaṃ sākṣāt-sādhanaṃ nirālambam-upadiṣṭam |
“The inquiry into one’s own true nature (svarūpa-anveṣaṇaṃ), which is strictly independent of (nirapekṣaṃ) the contemplation of mental modifications (vṛtti-vicāra) such as ‘I am Brahman’, is taught here as the direct means (sākṣāt-sādhanaṃ) that is entirely free from any objective support (nirālambam).”
Śāstrī uses the word nirālambam (without support). Chanting “I am Brahman” gives the mind an object (a support) to hold onto. Real scrutiny requires the mind to drop all supports and plummet into its source.
सर्वस्याप्यहमस्मीति प्रत्ययप्रसिद्धेः, अहम्प्रत्ययात् परतरस्यासिद्धेश्च अहमोऽन्वेषणेन स्वरूपावगतिर्भवति।
sarvasyāpy-ahamasmīti pratyaya-prasiddheḥ, aham-pratyayāt
paratarasyāsiddheśca ahamo’nveṣaṇena svarūpāvagatir-bhavati |
“Because the cognition ‘I am’ is universally self-evident to everyone, and because nothing else is established prior to or beyond this ‘I’-cognition, the realization of one’s true nature occurs exclusively through the inquiry into this ‘I’.”
Śāstrī confirms that the ‘I’ is the primary, undeniable foundation of all experience, making it the only valid thread to trace backward.
In Vārttikam, K. Lakshmana Sarma reveals:[9]
निमज्जेत् सलिले लब्धुं मग्नं वस्तु यथा तथा ।
अहन्तामूलमन्विष्यन् निमज्जेत् साधको हृदि ॥
nimajjet salile labdhuṃ magnaṃ vastu yathā tathā |
ahantāmūlam-anviṣyan nimajjet sādhako hṛdi ||
“Just as one would dive into water to recover a sunken object, in the exact same way, the seeker (sādhakaḥ), actively searching for (anviṣyan) the root of the ‘I’-sense (ahantā-mūlam), should dive (nimajjet) into the Heart (hṛdi).”
When someone drops a valuable item into a lake, they do not dive in and look at the fish or the plants; they seek only the exact object that was lost (magnaṃ vastu).
The word anviṣyan (seeking/inquiring) is the active, ongoing form of the exact word Bhagavan uses in the original verse (anviṣya).
Śri Muruganar in Guru Vachaka Kovai echoes[10]:
நீ யார் அவன் ஆர் எனப் புறத்து நீள மனம்
போயே வினாவும் அப் போக்கு ஒழிந்தே — ஓயாது
தான் ஆவலாகத் தனைக்குறித்துத் தன் அகத்து
நான் ஆர் எனக் கேட்கை நன்று.
nī yār avaṉ ār eṉap puṟattu nīḷa maṉam
pōyē viṉāvum ap pōkku ozhintē — ōyātu
tāṉ āvalākat taṉaik kuṟittut taṉ akattu
nāṉ ār eṉak kēṭkai naṉdṟu.
“Instead of letting the mind wander extensively outward, questioning ‘Who are you?’ and ‘Who is he?’, one must completely abandon that outward-going tendency. The truly proper path is to direct one’s attention toward oneself and, with intense earnestness, ceaselessly inquire within, ‘Who am I?’”
When attempting Stage 2, the intellect will try to distract the practitioner by offering profound-seeming philosophical questions about other things (the universe, God, other people, external problems). Muruganar cuts this off entirely.
Atma Vicāra is actively reversing the cognitive momentum (ap pokku) of the mind. Muruganar uses ōyātu (ceaselessly) and āvalāka (with intense eagerness). The practitioner is tasked with maintaining an acute, hyper-vigilant observation of the arising of the ‘I’-thought.” It cannot be a casual or passive sitting; it must be an intense, unbroken, internal vigilance.
Let us explore more on śloka 3 of SAP, contemplate on Stages 3 & 4, and analyze its words (of Anvaya-mukhī Ṭīkā) in the next part of this series.
(Hṛdaya continues to throb...)
1 The Anvaya-mukhī Ṭīkā (अन्वय-मुखी टीका) is the rearrangement of the words from the poetic meter of a verse into a logical sentence structure, while seamlessly adding commentary to explain the profound, hidden meanings of the root text (mūlam) using the method called Adhyāhāra (supplying implied words) and Vivaraṇa (brief explanatory glosses) directly inside the Anvaya. The supplied words are given within []. ↩
2 Venkataramiah M.,Talks with Śri Ramaṇa Maharṣi, Talk 352. ↩
3 Devaraja Mudaliar, Day by Day with Bhagavān, 18-10-1946 & 18-7-1946. ↩
4 Bhagavadgītā, Śloka 18.30. ↩
5 Saddarśanaṃ, Śloka 30. ↩
6 Words-separated version of Śloka 184 in Guru Vachaka Kovai. ↩
7 Saddarśanaṃ, Śloka 31. ↩
8 Collected Works of T.V. Kapali Śāstrī, Volume 9, Sanskrit Writings-2, Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1990 - Page 284. ↩
9 Aruṇācala Pañcaratna Vārttikam, Verse 51. ↩
10 Words-separated version of Śloka 384 in Guru Vachaka Kovai. ↩
SURRENDERING TO THE SELF: Ramana Maharshi’s Message for the Present - 24 February 2022; By Patrick Laude (Author); ISBN-13:978-1787385382; Publisher: C Hurst & Co Publishers Ltd., pp. 328. https://www.amazon.in/Surrendering-Self-Maharshis-Message-Present/dp/1787385388#
This innovative study has an ambitious goal: to articulate the teachings of Ramana Maharshi in a philosophically-informed and comparative framework and to demonstrate in what ways these teachings might be well suited to the postmodern tenor of twenty-first century spiritual seeking. It is intended for serious, knowledgeable spiritual aspirants, as it uses sophisticated philosophical and theological discourse and assumes the reader has a commitment to spiritual liberation. This book is well suited to the many thousands of seekers who already have some familiarity with the Maharshi’s teachings and who wish to pursue a deeper dive into their key facets and implications, and how they relate to other spiritual traditions, especially Buddhism, Taoism, Christian mysticism, and Sufism.
The author is a professor of religious studies at Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service in Qatar. He is well versed in comparative mysticism and esotericism as well as in the history of modern and postmodern philosophy. The book is coherently organised, beginning with a justification for why another study of Ramana Maharshi is warranted, followed by a brief biographical sketch of the Maharshi’s life. As the author explains, “the specific intent of this book reaches beyond a merely introductory endeavor to the metaphysical and spiritual lessons to be drawn from the Maharshi’s teachings. Here, it does not only, or primarily, situate the Maharshi within the non-dual traditions of Hinduism, but it also delves into themes and questions that are particularly relevant to the contemporary spiritual crisis and search for meaning.” (p. 3)
This work’s exploration of significant spiritual/theological themes and questions help the reader understand and evaluate the Maharshi’s unique place in the emerging globalized spiritual marketplace. For example, in discussing the perceived opposition between religion and spirituality that characterizes the postmodern era, Laude acknowledges that many writers “have tended to emphasize the trans-religious dimensions of the Maharshi’s life and teachings. Indeed, the perspective of Self-inquiry that he has repeatedly taught does not rely on any religious ‘mythology.’ It is couched in the most simple and direct language, and appears to be independent from any creed or metaphysical presuppositions.” (p. 7) However, the author argues that this seeming independence is not the same thing as making religion irrelevant. Throughout the book, Laude contends that a broader understanding of religion and how it functions in human life—for example, with regard to devotion and grace—demonstrates that Sri Ramana’s body of teachings supports significant themes and practices that are frequently characterized as “religious.” In other words, Sri Ramana goes beyond the seeming opposition between religion and spirituality, thus opening a pathway for the religious, the “spiritual,” and/or the non-religious to engage with the sadhana of Self-realization.
By the time he reaches the Epilogue, the author has convincingly demonstrated how the Maharshi’s unique teaching meets the needs of spiritual seekers in our contemporary moment—a moment wherein traditional religious communities, hierarchies, and theologies are under intense critical scrutiny, and wherein individuals must find authentic spiritual guidance within a welter of both traditional and nontraditional teachings, groups, and products.
Each facet of the author’s extensive exposition of the Maharshi’s teachings is supported by copious references to relevant writings about and by Sri Ramana and by judicious selections from respected scholars/teachers of traditions such as Sufism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Christian mysticism and Taoism.
Laude’s study continues along the lines of John Grimes’s work, Ramana Maharshi: The Crown Jewel of Advaita, Michael James’s Happiness and the Art of Being, and T.M.P. Mahadevan’s Ramana Maharshi and His Philosophy of Existence, and is the first volume to really examine how the Maharshi’s teachings both resonate with and address the shortcomings of the postmodern de-centering and erasure of the self, as well as postmodern philosophy’s questioning of static and essentialising conceptions of human identity and subjectivity. It engages significant questions raised within postmodern philosophical and theological discourse and describes how the Maharshi’s teachings address these questions and how they can lead to deeper levels of nondual Self-realization. There may not be any other work that addresses these important postmodern philosophical and spiritual issues in dialogue with Ramana Maharshi’s teachings in the manner of this volume. There is also a wealth of references to other schools of esoteric thought and world spirituality, so that the volume does not get lost in the rarified discourses of Advaita Vedanta’s philosophical analysis. Rather, the author constantly relates the Maharshi’s teachings and methods to traditions that are popular with contemporary Western spiritual seekers, in the process making the Maharshi’s path accessible to Western students of non-dual spirituality.
The author has an elegant and precise writing style that analyzes the Maharshi’s teachings in a way that is accessible to the non-specialist student of comparative spirituality and Eastern philosophical traditions. It is entirely appropriate for its intended audience: serious spiritual seekers who want a deeper encounter with the Maharshi’s teachings, but who do not want to be overburdened by Sanskrit and Tamil terms and Advaita Vedanta insider discourse.
In this work, the author uncovers under-appreciated facets of the Maharshi’s teachings by examining their multi-dimensional perspectives, apparent contradictions, and contributions to human enlightenment. Of special interest are his focused analyses of the Maharshi’s teachings on such themes as Maya, the paths of devotion (bhakti) and knowledge, the nature of human identity, destiny and free will, mantra and prayer, religious pluralism, and on the role of traditional Hinduism in Sri Ramana’s life. This volume’s fresh insights and sustained philosophical analysis of the Maharshi’s teachings may surprise even seasoned devotees.
With regard to Sri Ramana’s teachings on Maya, the author argues that the relationship between appearance and Reality lay at the core of questions posed to the sage about Maya and the reality or non-reality of the world. In Laude’s reading of Sri Ramana’s various answers to these questions, there are many instances where his replies appear to follow Advaitin tradition: the world, ontologically, is both indefinable and inexplicable. Traditional Advaita does not account for the appearance of ignorance in the world or in the Self. If the Self is all that really exists, then somehow avidya or ignorance must be inherent in the Self or inherent in what has emerged from the Self: the human jiva and its condition of Self-ignorance. But Advaita does not probe into this mystery and in fact counsels against attempting to understand it in rational terms. Sri Ramana says that since humans experience it, the world is not unreal, yet it is not real either, since it is in a constant state of emergence, growth, and dissolution. Its status as neither fully real nor fully unreal is left suspended, unexplainable.
Laude then attempts to approach Maya from the perspective of questions about whether the mind creates the world, whether the world exists outside the subjective mind, and whether the way the mind perceives the world is implicated in a basic ignorance of the Self. Traditional Advaita argues that as a result of faulty superimposition (abhyasa), human jivas experience themselves as separate from the phenomenal world and separate from Divine Reality. As a result, the world as experienced in this state of Self-ignorance is indeed an illusion, since the reality of the Self/Brahman is wholly absent from this perception, subjectively speaking. The materialist philosophical position exemplifies this state, since it denies any reality outside what can be experienced through the sense organs and through scientific instrumentation. Sri Ramana, on the other hand, asserts that simply because the world as perceived in ignorance is ultimately unreal, that does not mean it doesn’t exist at all. For him, it is not correct to say that Advaitins deny the existence of the world or call it unreal. Their point is only to say that the “world” as seen by a mind fully under the spell of avidya (ignorance of the Self) is unreal. However, as seen by the enlightened mind, the world is completely real, for it is none other than Brahman/Self. “Brahman is the world.”
Therefore, in Laude’s reading of Sri Ramana’s teachings, it is a mistake to say that Advaitins deny the existence of the world. Indeed, he argues quite the opposite: “the world is more real than it is to others, precisely because ‘the world as Brahman is real,’ whereas the world as considered by dualists has a beginning and an end, and cannot therefore be called real in a proper sense.” (p. 158-59)
As referenced earlier, the author makes use of specialized discourse/language in his examination and evaluation of the Maharshi’s teachings. To a certain degree, this is unavoidable in a work of this kind, but the author strives to not overburden the lay reader with this discourse, and is able to couch his arguments and reflections within the larger frame of world religions, eastern philosophies, and comparative spiritualities. Notwithstanding this point, Laude’s work is a substantive study and not appropriate for readers with no background in Eastern spirituality, comparative spirituality, or Advaita Vedanta. The more philosophical sections of the work, particularly with regard to the Maharshi’s path and the postmodern current, will be of interest mainly to scholars of esotericism, comparative spirituality, eastern philosophy, Advaita Vedanta, and contemporary non-dual spiritualities, particularly in the present period of globalization and transnational flows of spiritual ideas and practices. For those readers, this volume presents valuable insights into, and evaluations of, Sri Ramana’s unique teachings for our present era.
Phillip C. Lucas, Stetson University
Neera Kashyap
This flash of certainty
An arrow hitting bull’s eye
Incontrovertible, indubitable, pure.
Needing no proof, no theory, no validation
from reason, from lessons, from people.
Free of memory, history, human bonds.
A flash - from beyond time
pointing in time
to a vocation
a journey,
a teacher,
a beloved,
a calling,
a change….
and the most electric of all
to one’s Master
from whom one learns
slowly, slowly….
that burdens rest best
when they rest in
Him.
Question 1: With regard to Self-enquiry, I have the following doubts. The practice is stated differently in different places.
1. When the question “Who Am I” is posed to oneself, the mind will go back to its source and the question itself will subside there. With repeated practice in this manner, the mind will develop the skill to remain steadfast in its source.
2. Give continuous attention to the I-thought or ego-self. That will take you to the ultimate state.
3. Prolong the state of Silence. Though it is temporary, it is a link between the “I” and the real Self.
4. Without uttering a word, dive deep to know the Self.
Are all of these the same practice?
Answer: Practices #1 and #2 are identical. In order to find the source, one needs to maintain attention without any break on the I-sense. Thus, the essence of both practices is the same. Practice #3 is advice not to allow the mind to stray, once the peaceful state of silence of the mind is achieved. Remain in a state of unwavering alertness to ward off thoughts and prolong that peaceful state. Practice #4 advises against letting the mind stay at the surface level of disturbing thoughts but diving deep within with intensely focused attention.
In essence, all four practices produce the same result. You may follow practice #2, that is, giving continuous attention to the I-sense. Sri Bhagavan says, “It will take you there.”
When you feel mentally exhausted from the effort of continuous attention, take up some chanting or japa, parayanam, etc. (This was Bhagavan’s advice to Kunju Swamy). And after getting refreshed from the fatigue caused by self-attention, take it up once again. The mind is the only tool we have. We should not drive it to such an extent that it rebels.
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Question 2: Verse 510 of Sri Ramana Paravidyopanishad says:
अहंस्वरूपा चितिरात्मनो या सर्वोत्तमं ध्येयमिदं मुमुक्षोः ।
मज्जेदनेनैव मनो हृदन्त इत्यस्मदाचार्यवरोपदेशः ॥
ahaṃsvarūpā citirātmano yā
sarvottamaṃ dhyeyamidaṃ mumukṣoḥ |
majjedanenaiva mano hṛdanta ityasmadācāryavaropadeśaḥ ||
For the seeker of deliverance, the best of all possible objects for meditation is consciousness, having the form “I”, which is the essence of the real Self. By this meditation alone, the mind will naturally dive into the Heart. Such is the teaching of our great Guru.
What I understood by this is that meditation on atma is equivalent to atma vicharam, and that I should stay in Silence without any thoughts (by keeping attention on atma/Self). Will keeping my mind in Silence like this take me to the goal?
Answer: I-consciousness or the inner conscious Presence is called atma or Self. This I-consciousness is always present. Directing our attention to this ever-present consciousness is atma vichara. The non-verbal inquiry into the question “Who Am I?” takes you to the same inner consciousness. This is also the case with the non-verbal inquiry into the question “Whence Am I?” Ultimately, a constant redirection of attention to the subject-I (or I-feeling) is the process of atma vichara, however it may be described or expressed.
When the attention is kept fully on the subject-I, the mind becomes silent. Silence is the result of total attention to the subject-I. In this Silence, the mind becomes inactive and there are no thoughts, but awareness continues. This is important to note. Mere silence of the mind or a no-thought state is not enough; awareness must also be there. This is because sleep is also a state of no-thought, but it is not the desired state. The aim of atma vichara is this stillness of the mind coupled with complete awareness. Bhagavan calls it a dynamic Silence. (In the initial stages of practice, when the mind is emptied of thoughts, it falls asleep. This has to be overcome).
Coming back to your question — yes, Silence, or the no-thought state, is the atma, when awareness of the I-feeling continues. Atma is the state of thought-free awareness. Here, the mind is not fixed on any object (fixing the mind on any object may be considered a form of meditation) but attention to thoughts is withdrawn and this attention is kept on the I-feeling. This is atma vichara. Through suitable training and practice, one may learn to keep this Self-attention even while engaged in other activities.
Upahar
The very thought of You, and it’s as if…
ages of yearning fold into this moment,
the gates of mercy open, deep within,
all is forgiven, all is gratitude.
The road’s been hard of late, the traveller
dismayed, familiar shelters broken down;
yet still this silent Love pervades the heart,
and will prevail, till all the veils have fallen.
The golden days of grace, the turns of fate,
the mystic branch of sweet and bitter fruit;
the gift of faith, a song, a river, a star.
The very thought of You, and all is One.
Saarah Brar
Today the long wandering of my soul
came quietly to an end.
I returned to Arunachala,
as a child who has roamed too far
returns at last
to the silent womb of its mother.
I returned to the sacred dust
at the feet of Bhagavan,
where the restless heart
learns again how to be still.
Like a river that has sung
through forests, valleys, and storms
only to dissolve at last
in the boundless ocean.
Like a bird that has flown
through lonely skies and distant winds
and finally folds its tired wings
inside the warmth of its own nest.
Tonight my soul feels
like a shooting star
that has remembered the sky
it was born from.
Nothing was achieved.
Nothing was conquered.
I simply came home
to the silence,
to the grace,
to the eternal embrace
of Arunachala.
This is Nondi, a monkey devotee of Bhagavan. Welcome to the July 2026 edition of the Children/youth corner. In this section, I will share stories, anecdotes, puzzles and interesting facts to provide you spiritual nourishment every quarter. The aim is to inspire and help you blossom into kind, brave and decisive adults.
I look forward to engaging with all of you, all over the world, in the years to come. Please share your queries, feedback and articles with me at mountainpath@gururamana.org.
Sincerely,
Your friend,
“Nondi”
One of the beautiful qualities of Ramana Maharshi was that he never spoke about the faults of others. We ordinary people tend to see the world in terms of right and wrong, good and bad, and we are often quick to judge others. Bhagavan, however, never saw anything bad in anyone.
This incident, narrated by Kunju Swami, one of Bhagavan’s senior devotees, shows how Bhagavan taught a simple but powerful lesson: if we learn to look for the good in others, it can help us overcome strong dislike or hatred and keep our minds calm and peaceful.
Bhagavan’s tongue never spoke of the negative qualities of people. When news of someone’s death was brought to him, he would at once recall the virtuous qualities of the deceased. He had an uncanny gift for noticing the good in people, even qualities that others had not seen. His words often came as a revelation to us, and we would be amazed at Bhagavan’s discovery of such virtues in them. We even felt it would be worth dying just to hear Bhagavan’s words of praise about us! But, I must admit, we were not fortunate enough.
Whenever news of someone’s passing came, we would hurry to Bhagavan’s presence to hear what he would say about the person.
Kandaswami of Tiruvannamalai, a well-to-do man of the town, was disliked by many because of his offensive manners. Once in a while he came for the darshan of Ramana Maharshi. In his last days he fell into poverty and ill health, and even had to take shelter under the mantapam in front of the Ashram.
One day he sent word through someone that he wished to taste Kerala gruel (Malayala kanji). Bhagavan had it prepared and sent to him. We did so that day and again the next day. But Kandaswami’s condition worsened. We became curious about what Bhagavan would say about him when he passed away. We were particularly eager because the man seemed to have no good qualities worth mentioning.
The next day he died. When we reported the news to Bhagavan, we sat down in front of him. We were quite sure that even Bhagavan would not be able to find anything good to say about him. But we were in for a surprise.
Bhagavan said, “No one can keep his body and clothes as clean as Kandaswami. In this respect, he is next only to Injikkollai Deekshitar. Kandaswami would neither apply oil nor use soap. Every morning he would come to the pond at eight o’clock, wash his dhoti by repeatedly squeezing and wringing it, and then thoroughly scrub his limbs and body. By the time he finished all this, it would be twelve noon. Even his hair and beard were always very, very clean.”
On hearing Bhagavan’s words, we had to hang our heads in shame. Truly, Bhagavan was unparalleled in finding only what is good in people.[1]
Here is an AI-generated comic strip to illustrate the above. If you have created or come across similar AI-generated content that conveys Bhagavan’s message accurately for our young readers, please share it with us at mountainpath@gururamana.org.
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Here’s this issue’s Fun Corner
ACROSS
3. Devotee in town who took care of Cow Lakshmi in the early days (8,4)
6. One of the villages where the Ashram has built a sanctuary for aged cows (8)
7. The Ashram devotee who stepped up to look after Cow Lakshmi (9,11)
DOWN
1. A judge devotee who donated funds for the goshala (5,8,6)
2. One of the villages where the Ashram has built a sanctuary for aged cows (8,7)
4. The villager who brought Cow Lakshmi to Bhagavan (11,6)
5. Devotee who was the inspiration behind the goshala (3,7)
Solutions to April 2026 crossword puzzle
Navaratri at the Ashram
ACROSS
1. The fish-eyed Goddess (9)
6. The Goddess performing penance to Lord Shiva (5)
7. Special decorations performed on each of the nine days (10)
8. Married women are invited and gifted saris, bangles and turmeric (9,4)
9. The Goddess of wisdom, holding the veena (9)
DOWN
1. Prayer to bless tools, instruments and computers (6,4)
3. Seated on the sacred bull Nandi (8, 7)
4. The name of the Goddess worshipped during Navaratri (9)
5. The focal point of the worship inside the sanctum of the Mother’s Shrine (3,6,4)
Photo Caption Result – April 2026
Usha Ramesh
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Shloka: Sri Ramana Ashtottaram
Let’s continue to memorize this wonderful composition by Sri Viswanatha Swami. These are 108 names of Bhagavan used to worship him. As each name is uttered by way of invocation, a flower is offered in worship. Let’s memorize one name at a time and understand its meaning. Here’s Name 11:
ओं कमनीयसुचरित्राय नमः।
Oṁ kamanīya sucāritrāya namaḥ
Meaning: Charming person of excellent behavior.
As a child, comely to behold, bright-eyed, sweet of speech and ever-smiling, Bhagavan was a great favorite of the whole neighbourhood.
This is a photo of cows in our newly renovated Ashram gosala, which now has ventilated sheds, rope-free open roaming zones, digital identification and preventive veterinary care, scientific nutrition with improved feed systems, and a modern milking facility with structured sanitation.
What’s going on in this picture?
Close your eyes for a moment and imagine it. Then write down the best caption you can!
Your caption can be funny, thoughtful, or inspiring. Please share it with us at mountainpath@gururamana.org. The winning caption will be published in our next issue.
[1] Reminiscences of Kunju Swami (Enadu Ninaivugal in Tamil). ↩
Continuing the legacy of Cow Lakshmi, the Ashram Gosala has been completely modernized under the guiding principle of “Protection, not production.” The non-commercial sanctuary now provides lifelong, non-yield based care to 385 cattle. Upgrades include 17 new ventilated sheds, rope-free roaming zones, and dedicated retirement sanctuaries (no cows are ever sold). Operations now feature digital identification, preventive veterinary care, scientific nutrition using locally cultivated green fodder, and a modern milking facility. Promoting self-sufficiency, an in-house biogas system supplies approximately 50% of the kitchen’s fuel. The facility stands as a model of compassionate animal care deeply rooted in Bhagavan’s vision.
Early on the morning of March 18th, the newly renovated kitchen was officially inaugurated. Designed to easily accommodate efficient, large-scale food preparation, the upgraded facility features new boilers, steamers, enhanced service piping, and higher-capacity burners. Additionally, the kitchen now sources approximately 50% of its energy from gobar gas, enhancing sustainability. For improved hygiene and easier maintenance, the floors and walls have also been freshly tiled.
Sri Vidya Havan is an annual day-long fire ritual (homa) conducted at Sri Ramanasramam to reconsecrate and rededicate the Sri Chakra Meru in the Matrubhuteswara (Mother’s) Temple. The rite was initiated in March 1953 under the direction of Major Alan Chadwick, who had been present when Bhagavan originally consecrated the Sri Chakra. Its primary purpose is to invoke the blessings of the Great Goddess to protect the Ashram and preserve the purity of Bhagavan’s teachings.
This year’s Sri Vidya Homa was held in a grand manner at Sri Ramanasramam and was attended by hundreds of devotees. Rituals began at 7:00 AM with Kalasa Sthapana followed by Navavarṇa Puja, Homam, Sumangali Puja, Kanya Puja, and Purṇahuti. By 3:00 PM, Deeparadhana was performed at the shrines of Bhagavan (Ramaneswara) and his Mother (Mathrubhuteswara), followed by the anointing of the gold-plated Sri Chakra Meru. This three-dimensional yantra holds deep significance, having been personally touched and blessed by Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. Sri Vidya worship is profoundly connected to the Tripura Rahasya, a sacred text frequently quoted by Bhagavan, which guides earnest seekers toward spiritual realization.
A major spiritual event co-organized by Tiruvannamalai Sri Ramanasramam and the Coimbatore Sri Ramanalayam Trust took place in Coimbatore on March 29, 2026. Presided over by Ashram President Dr. Venkat S. Ramanan, the event opened with the lighting of the traditional lamp and an address emphasizing Bhagavan’s core teaching of Atma Vichara (Self-enquiry). Prof. Dr. V. Sivakumar of Amrita Hospital delivered a special address sharing global devotee experiences, while Dr. Balachandar Odhuvar and his troupe provided soul-stirring musical renditions of songs from the Thevaram and Ramana Sannidhi Murai. The globally livestreamed event concluded with a vote of thanks by Advocate Sivakumar and the distribution of prasadam.
In order to mark the anniversary of Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi’s Mahasamadhi in 1950—which traditionally coincides with the Tamil New Year—special observances were held throughout the day:
Morning & Afternoon Observances: A special morning puja was held at Bhagavan’s Shrine to welcome the Tamil New Year. At 3:30 PM, the Panchangam for the new Parabhava year was read before a large gathering of devotees at the shrine.
Evening Chanting: At 8:00 PM, devotees gathered in front of Bhagavan’s Mahanirvana room to solemnly recite the Aksharamanamalai, thereby honoring the exact moment of his Mahasamadhi, which occurred at 8:47 pm.
The 76th Aradhana was observed with immense devotion, drawing over 5,000 physical attendees and more than 10,000 global viewers via YouTube.
The ceremonies commenced early, at 4:45 AM with mangala music and special multi-colored floral decorations adorning the Ramaneswara lingam in the samadhi shrine. This was followed by Mahanyasa Rudra Japam, the parayana of Bhagavan’s works, and sacred anointing ceremonies. The event culminated at 11:00 AM with devotional singing, deeparadhana, and a festive feast offered to all present.
For more than sixty years, The Mountain Path has served devotees of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. We are grateful for the reflections we have received over the years.
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"Silence is the true upadesa. It is the perfect upadesa. It is suited only for the most advanced seeker."
— Sri Ramana Maharshi