In Search of Self

Selected Writings of
Arunachala Bhakta Bhagavat

jacket text

The writings of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat are a testimony of man’s access to Peace and Ecstasy sung by saints and recorded in scriptures.

Born in a remote village of Northern India, the author was caught in the current of Mahatma Gandhi’s National Movement at a very young age. While with a rare zeal he aspired to imbibe Gandhiji’s ideals, he struggled to overcome the illiteracy and complacency which had persisted through the centuries. This story of his early youth, told in his own inimitable style, comprises the first part of the book.

The second part consists of the author’s selected writings, Spanning a period of twenty-four years (1962-1986), in which he tells how his life was transformed by the gracious glance of his Master, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.

The author is a family man with all the normal concerns and responsibilities. How he copes with them and a number of unusual, severe difficulties and still maintains unflinching faith in God and an ever-deepening experience of Self-realization, is a source of inspiration and guidance for all those who seek the meaning and purpose of life.

Because all his experiences occur not in the remote past or in a distant exotic land, but right on American soil, the book has a special relevance to the present-day life in the West.

The weaknesses that assail him, his struggle to overcome them and his ultimate fulfilment are candidly recorded. He writes of the visions that have guided and illumined him, of the overflow of ecstasy that fills him, and of the mission his Master is compelling him to complete.

The path vouchsafed to mankind by the sage of Arunachala, Ramana Maharshi, is vividly lived and experienced by Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat. Those who read this book will discover the unique teachings of the sage and how they can be practiced and experienced in the modern world.

First Edition 1987





Printed at Indraprastha Press (CBT),
4 Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg
New Delhi, 110002 (India)


 

Acknowledgments

There are some activities in life which become a source of great satisfaction and joy. The joy is multiplied proportionately to the number joining the effort in the same spirit. Thus has been the activity connected with the publication of this book.

Every stage in the preparation of 'In Search of Self' has been a collective endeavor. All members of Arunachala Ashrama, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi Center in New York City and Nova Scotia, Canada had had a hand in some phase or other of its production. And although none of these friends would expect, or even want to be directly referred to here, I can’t help mentioning the contribution of Margo Martin, who skillfully edited and re-typed “The Mighty Mahatma Strides The Land.”

Also, I doubt whether this testament of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat would have ever seen the light of day if not for the unreserved assistance and guidance of Gyanendra and Sharda Jain of New Delhi. For two full months they adopted me like a son, provided me with not only all the facilities to work on the manuscript, but also the rich experience of their long literary and professional careers. I can never repay my debt to them. I can only offer my obeisances to them, as a son to his parents, and pray that the sole source and inspiration of this book, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, may always bless, guide and protect them.

Lastly, I express my gratitude to the management of Sri Ramanasramam in Tiruvannamalai (S. India), who encouraged me, provided me with photos of Ramana Maharshi, and gave permission to use the quotations from their publications.

New Delhi
April, 1987

Table of Contents

  i   front cover
 ii   Surrender
iii   frontispiece
 iv   jacket text
  v   publish
 vi   Acknowledgments

  1   Introduction
  9   Preface

The Mighty Mahatma Strides the Land

 21   Invocations
 21   The Beginning: the Village
 23   One Afternoon
 25   A Child’s Dream
 28   Sunday Collection and the Green Sash
 33   Pilgrimage to the Holy Ganga
 38   I Eat the Newspaper
 43   The Heart-rending News
 45   Under the Training of the Village Teacher
 48   I Leave My Village
 52   I Struggle in Village Pachamba
 58   Middle English School at Rampur
 61   The Smoldering Fire
 65   The Boy Scout
 67   The Double Dream
 69   Back in My Village

At the Lotus Feet of Arunachala Ramana

 79   Letters to Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi
 86   At the Lotus Feet Of Bhagavan
 86   How Bhagavan Came into My Life
105   Bhagavan Initiates Me in a Dream
109   In Thy Name I Wander
113   “I Am The Lord”
120   The Surging Ganga of Guru’s Grace
137   Bhagavan Is My Breath
145   Advent of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi at Arunachala
152   Sri Bhagavan Grants Our Prayer
157   Letter to Sri V. Ganesan of Sri Ramanasramam
159   Sri Arunachala Ramana’s Infinite Grace and Mercy
164   Prayer to Arunachala Ramana
166   Thou Art the Very Breath of My Life
171   Arunachala Ashrama Rises on Canada’s Soil
175   Chronology

List of Illustrations

      Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi
      Mahatma Gandhi (drawing)
 78   Ramana Maharshi, age 21
 78   Sri Arunachala Mountain

120  Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat

 

Introduction

The unpublished works of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat could fill several volumes. This book comprises a fraction of those writings. All the pieces selected for inclusion here are autobiographical in nature. The first piece, The Mighty Mahatma Strides the Land, tells the story of a spirited boy, born in a small, remote village in Bihar, Northeast India. It relates the boy’s unusual yearning for knowledge, his struggle to obtain it, and his fiery zeal for the liberation of Mother India.

Arunachala Bhakta Bhagavat

click to see a large image

The Independence Movement of Mahatma Gandhi was in its infancy at this time and the author came under its influence in 1920, at the tender age of eight. A burning zeal for the freedom of India continued in the boy as he grew up, passing through life’s experiences as a student, a freedom fighter, and a spiritual aspirant. This first piece ends with the author entering high school at the age of sixteen. (There are two other major pieces which, when completed and joined to The Mighty Mahatma Strides the Land, will constitute a trilogy. They are The Mighty Mahatma Moves the Mountain and The Mighty Mahatma: Monument to Mankind. The first piece, which is included in this book, covers the years 1912-1928; the second 1929 - 1947; and the third is exclusively dedicated to Mahatma and his universal teachings.)

Other writings included in this book deal author’s life in America from early present, leaving a gap of perhaps thirty years of which little is mentioned. The book is not intended to be a complete autobiography, but a sample of the life and aspirations of a very unusual and inspired man. For those interested in the missing period, there is a summary of those years at the end of the book.

The reader will easily discern that from the early 1960’s, Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat’s life seemed to be moulding into a definite mission. His inner spiritual] life began to burst forth, enveloping his outer ambitions and ideals. At this time he clearly began to feel the grace of the Divine filling his being with jndescribable peace and joy. Ironically, concurrent with this spiritual upsurge, he was experiencing severe professional and financial difficulties. So persistently thwarted were his attempts to obtain employment and the financial security to sustain his family and the running of Sri Arunachala Ashrama (which he began in 1961) that he was forced to depend solely on his faith in God to sustain him. It is the story of the Divine causing His devotee, by severe trials and tribulations to turn to Him alone for happiness and fulfill ment.

He writes, “This period of tests, troubles, trials tribulations, miseries and misfortunes is a very encouraging and elevating phase for me, because there is nothing else for me to do but remember Thy name with all my stamina and strength and thus cross the sea of ego and ignorance.” And continuing later he writes, “I must place myself on record that such a state of my life is meant to turn my whole attention to Thy Lotus Feet and not be diverted fron my path of practice of Ramana Arunachala Shiva’s unique instruction of Self-Abidance in the Heart-Cavity.”

Ramana Maharshi

We now turn our attention from the author to the one whom the author experiences as the sole source of his inspiration, his joy, his very life.

In the Indian tradition of guru and disciple, the disciple who comes in contact with an enlightened guru eventually arrives at a state wherein he realizes his guru to be the embodiment of the Divine. It is the Divine which manifests as the guru and leads the sincere disciple to that supreme state of bliss which is God realization, or realization of the Self. For Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, that guru or God is Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.

Ramana Maharshi was born in a small village in South India on December 30th, 1879. Up to the age of sixteen he showed no particular signs of greatness; but in mid-July 1896 his innate spiritual glory burst forth and he was transformed from a school boy to a boy sage. It was a unique awakening in the history of spirituality. Soon after, the sixteen-year-old sage was irresistibly drawn to the holy mountain Arunachala in Tiruvannamalai. South India. This mountain is one-half mile high and has been proclaimed from antiquity to be a manifestation of the Divine on earth. It is worshipped by millions of Hindus as Lord Shiva. On and around this mountain, never leaving its close proximity, Raman Maharshi matured, grew old, and in April of 1950 left his mortal frame. Throughout his fifty years of residence there he lived in perfect purity and peace, never touching money and scarcely troubling to clothe his body — he wore only a simple loin cloth.

After first arriving in the town at the foot of Arunachala, the Maharshi remained all the time immersed within, taking almost no notice of the outside world. He experienced such complete inner freedom and perfection, remaining oblivious of the outer world, that sometimes people had to forcibly feed him and literally carry him to more convenient locations for his own safety. For many years he did not speak. Gradually seekers began to arrive, realiz ing the Maharshi’s greatness. Many felt supreme peace simply sitting in his presence. Ramana was all the time immersed in peace and transcendental bliss, and those who had contact with him absorbed something of his experience.

After some years he began to talk when questioned. Slowly he became more active externally yet, as he attested, nothing ever changed within; he always enjoyed that supreme state free from thoughts. People began to flock to him from all over the world. An ashrama rose around him He remained aloof, yet compassionate, as the years rolled on.

Throughout his life his compassion and love were expressed in many ways. He often taught his devotees and disciples in subtle but unmistakable ways. He knew from his own divine experience that there was no escaping the pains and sorrows of life unless one escapes from falsely identifying oneself with the body. To realize one’s true identity, that of perfect peace and bliss, he taught chiefly the path of Self-Enquiry. By questioning within and finding the source of the ego, the seeker would realize his identity with the Supreme Self. He would no longer be fooled by the imaginings of his limited self, but would merge in his own source, which is the essential source of all creation. The seeker would then realize the True Self, or become one with God. The method the Maharshi taught was to ask one’s self, “Who am I ?” One should hold on to the “I” and seek where from it arose. He also taught the path of Self-surrender. Self-enquiry and Self-surrender, he said, are in truth one. He never deflected seekers from their own faith and beliefs, but simply turned them inward to their own source. In fact, he said that the most effective teaching was in silence. This he demonstrated while sitting silently, surrounded by seekers. The devotees and aspirants would feel an irresistible inward pull in his presence. They felt their minds calmed and often awakened to the Eternal Divine Presence. Even today, thirty-seven years after his body’s demise, seekers feel that same Divine influence when they turn their minds and hearts to the Silent Sage of Arunachala, Ramana Maharshi. Thus, it was the influence of this great sage of modern India that transformed the life of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat. But Bhakta Bhagawat would not use the word influence; he would say Grace. It is this Grace that he never ceases extolling.

Arunachala Ashrama

The life and writings of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, beginning in the 1960's, are in many ways a history of Arunachala Ashrama in America and Canada.

In 1960, Bhagawat, as he is commonly called, met Arthur Osborne, a staunch disciple of Ramana Maharshi and founding editor of the quarterly magazine, The Mountain Path, published by Sri Ramanasramam in South India. Bhagawat was making his first pilgrimage to Ramanasramam when Mr.Osborne suggested to him that on his return to the U.S. he should begin, at least, weekly meetings. These meetings, Mr.Osborne suggested, should be used to introduce Americans to the teachings of Ramana Maharshi and should also include a period of silent meditation. When he returned to America in 1961, Bhagawat went to work organizing these meetings. As the years passed, weekly meetings became daily meetings and in 1966 Arunachala Ashrama, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi Center was incorporated and registered in New York State. At 342 East 6th Street in New York City, the daily activities of Arunachala Ashrama are still being conducted. There is also now a residential ashrama — a farm — in Nova Scotia, Canada.

Every outward endeavor has been a struggle for Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, and establishing and maintaining the Ashrama was no different. Till this day difficulties are experienced. The essays and excerpts included in this book tell of his bitter struggle, but they also tell of an inner life of fulfillment and joy. It is that inner joy which Bhakta Bhagawat is always eager to share. These writings are the result of that eagerness to share his inner experiences with the world. He is like a pitcher which has been filled to the brim with the water of Grace and yet continues to be filled — the result, an overflow. That overflow from the heart of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat has spilled onto the pages of this book.

The reader will notice that by 1970 his writing has taken a definite form — that of a prayer. For example, pieces filling thousands of pages will fall under the title, 'Bhagavan, Thou Art the Self', or 'Bhagavan, Thou Art the Doer'. Again and again he will reiterate his total absorption in the Divine. While typing these pieces he will be in a state of ecstasy and feel as if the words are flowing from his heart on to paper without the slightest effort on his part. Often he will sit with eyes closed, fingers on the typewriter, completely — absorbed in the Self or the Divine. Then the overflow would pour out again onto the paper. In this manner, millions of words have been written over the last twenty years. By reading his prayer manuscript aloud with devotion, one can feel something of the intensity and ecstasy with which they were written.

Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat has dreamed from his earliest childhood of raising the flag of purity, peace, knowledge and love, and during the last forty years he has been carrying aloft this flag of Mother India in the West. It has been this constant striving that has brought him to a state wherein he breathes, and walks in Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, his Lord.

Before entering into the main body of this book we suggest that the Preface (A Devotee’s Diary) be read. In this the reader will have an intimate observation of Bhakta Bhagawat as he lives today. Also, there are very candid answers to questions put to him his writings and inner experiences.

— Publisher

Preface

A Devotee’s Diary

Tuesday 01 November 1977—Arunachala Ashrama, Bridgetown, Nova Scotia, Canada

9:15 P.M. I have just come back from the Temple and found Bhagawat asleep with his head completely submerged under the blankets.

This morning he didn’t come to the Temple at 4:30 A.M.. but told me tomorrow I should wake him, for he is anxious to recite in the Temple.

I notice that :t seems to take him some time to become active in the mornings. From all appearances one would think he is lazy or inactive. This thought easily comes to mind, but the truth is otherwise. It is only his great pull of inwardness that prevents activity. He often quotes Bhagavan Ramakrishna who said, “When a pitcher of water is only a little filled it will make all kinds of noise, but once it is filled to the brim, it cannot make any noise.”

Today I asked Bhagawat: “You always write ‘My breath is merged in the Heart.” Does this mean you stop breathing?”

He said: “No, not that. But instead of the breath flowing outwards, I feel it flowing into the Heart. I feel the thought and breath merging in the Heart. As far as words can explain it, it is just that.”

Also. the other day he said that these people (referring to someone who has taken up the mission of saving animals) love everyone else, but do not love themselves. Today I asked what exactly he meant by this. He explained: “They want to save everyone, but will not take the time to save themselves. They should do this first. I remember reading in my high school days what Swami Rama Tirtha wrote, ‘Wanted: Reformers. Not those with university degrees, but those who have reformed and can control themselves.’ This is exactly in line with what Sri Bhagavan says, ‘First realize yourself and then if you wish to reform others, by all means do so.’”

02 November 1977 — Arunachala Ashrama, Bridgetown, Nova Scotia, Canada

6:40 P.M. It is now all still and quiet both within and without the house. Bhagawat seems to be immersed in sleep, and I have just returned from milking the cows. I am sitting in the kitchen trying to recollect all I have heard today.

Bhagawat and I went out this afternoon to the back orchard to gather some apples. I climbed the trees, shook the branches, causing a storm of apples to fall to the ground. The large, old trees have not been attended to in many years. The apples have some slight flaws, so we prefer to use them for making apple sauce.

I thought we would collect seventy pounds of the best ones, leaving the remainder for the cows to eat. But Bhagawat found they were all good. “I am from the village: what do I know? They all look good!” he exclaimed. He even found the taste superior to any he had ever tasted. But in the end he finally consented to leave some for the cows, and we satisfied ourselves with only one large bag-full.

While in the orchard picking apples I asked him: “In your writings you always refer to the unceasing repetition of om namo bhagavate śrī ramaṇāya. When did you first hear this mantra?” He couldn’t recall any specific date, but told me that he must have first begun repeating it after seeing it written in the publications from Sri Ramanasramam, around 1955 or so.

Then I said: ““Sadhakas take up repetition of mantras first orally and then mentally, and afterwards it is said it sinks into the heart. And also I have read that the means, in the end, become the goal; that is, the unceasing repetition in the heart. Did you ever repeat this mantra orally as a form of sadhana or practice?”

He replied: “No. I could never do it orally.”

Then I asked: ““When did you first start feeling Sri Bhagavan’s presence in your heart?”

With great enthusiasm he began explaining: “It was in that vision of Sri Bhagavan in 1954. Before that I was getting up early, bathing, doing sirshasana (headstand) for twenty or thirty minutes and reading religious books. After that vision I would practice this self-awareness mostly while walking. I would walk very much in those days and all the while, although I might seem to be looking outwards, the repetition of om namo bhagavate śrī ramaṇāya would be going on within me. I would take a book with me, sit in the park, but I could never open it, for this practice would go on.” Then after a reflective pause, he went on: “Since my early childhood this fire has been burning within me.”

I then asked him: “In 1954 when Sri Bhagavan came to you in the dream were you reading His teachings at that time?”

“No,” he replied, “it was only after that. In 1955, I started getting Sri Bhagavan’s books. But in 1941, while teaching in Darjeeling, I first saw Sri Bhagavan’s name and form and right then I knew my relationship with Him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He continued: “The veils were lifted and I knew I have had a relationship with Him birth after birth. I always said that he will be my guru of whom I need not ask a single question!”

Bhagawat has told me of this experience of Sri Bhagavan in 1941 at other times also. It seems he wanted to fly to Sri Ramanasramam that very minute and later tried to arrange to go, but he never succeeded. He has also said that after this particular incident in 1941, his interest in Sri Bhagavan receded. But thirteen years later, in 1954, Sri Bhagavan all of a sudden began to dramatically change his life. It wasn’t until 1960 that he finally went to Sri Ramanasramam for the first time. Today he related to me how he felt at that time: “It was like Bhagavan was holding me by the hand and I, like a child first learning to walk, would fall; but Bhagavan would lift me. Again I would fall; but Bhagavan was holding me by the hand and He would always lift me.”

03 November 1977 — Nova Scotia, Canada

This morning after our regular program in the Temple I went to the barn to milk the cows, while Bhagawat went to the house. I called to Lakshmi in the field to come, but although she heard me, looked up and knew my desire, she remained where she was, grazing on the green grass. So, for the time being I concentrated my attention on milking Saraswati, who was already in her stall.

In the meantime, Bhagawat came from the house and began calling Lakshmi and Surprisingly, she responded to his call and slowly walked over to him. At this point Bhagawat came running into the stable. boyishly excited, to inform me how he called Lakshmi and she had come. I asked him to open the gate so that she could come to her stall. He went out to do this and I soon saw her walking in through the door followed by Bhagawat. who was all amazed and overwhelmed. He then exclaimed: “You see, they are just like humans! Look at their eyes. Ah, when you have peace within, everywhere you see peace.”

The other day I told Bhagawat how Lakshmi and Savitri (mother and daughter) had dissociated themselves from Saraswati since she gave birth to a new calf more than a month ago. After looking at Lakshmi and Savitri standing together a good distance away from Saraswati, I heard him say: “I don’t believe it. I have seen women like this but never animals. Those two are simply jealous of Saraswati’s new calf.” After he said this, and recollecting everything I had been observing since the calf’s birth, it seemed logical.

Today, Bhagawat started telling Lakshmi: “No! No! Don’t be jealous. You are Lakshmi. Think of your name (its meaning). Don’t be jealous! You are Mother!” Then he said: “‘We have to tell her this from time to time; then only she will stop.”

Bhagawat watched me milk the cows, watched the calf suck milk from her mother and was overjoyed seeing all this “Just look how many things Nature teaches us. There is none like Satyakam in the Upanishads. He tended the cows and was taught by them!” he said.

After the morning episode with the cows Bhagawat went back to the house and remained in bed for most of the day. In the early part of the afternoon I looked into his room and saw him lying there with his eyes open. I went in and asked him how he felt. ‘Flu, cold, virus or something — the body is not well,” he said. Although not feeling well, he gave me a welcoming smile and I sat down. Then I said: ““Bhagawat, I have a question. What exactly do you mean when you write in your manuscript, ‘I experience Sri Bhagavan’s glorious and gracious presence both within and without my heart?’ “Thereupon, he slowly sat up and gathering momentum and strength, related the following to me: “You see, when I open my eyes and look out, or close my eyes (closing his eyes) and look in, I experience that same peace or presence.

“Today I was calling Lakshmi, and my Heart was full of peace, blossoming open. I felt at one with her. She could feel it. Words are not necessary. When Sri Bhagavan had a snake slither over his body and all were amazed, he said: ‘The snake will raise its head and look you in the eyes. If you feel fear, it will also, but if there is no fear in you there will be none in the snake and it will just pass by.’ The same with Lakshmi: I felt at one with her. And she is no ordinary cow — to be served by sadhus, to be always thought of by devotees from both here and New York, is not an ordinary thing.

“I am here now. I look around, see the valley, the Temple and burst into tears of joy. I have no choice but to be quiet. In the barn this morning, just seeing the cows and calf. my whole being was inebriated with that cheer and joy, indescribable. So it is just this: the same Self that is within is without also, and once we have that established within, it 1s projected without as well.”

Tonight Bhagawat came to the Temple and after the practice and reading, Darlene wanted to read out a page of Bhagawat’s manuscript; of course, we all agreed. Bhagawat sat straight with eyes closed listening one-pointedly. After she finished, I asked him how he found it. Rarely, if ever, he will re-read anything he writes. He replied: ““Wonderful! It was wonderful!” I asked for a little more explanation and he continued: “I was listening to the flow of the sentences and words and it was wonderful. It is all the Self! Only the Self! If one will just read.” Then after prostrating before the shrine of Sri Bhagavan he continued: “As long as one does not rise above the senses he cannot understand, he will see differences where, in fact, there is only one Self; he will see another body different from his own body. But it is the same Self speaking and acting through all bodies. Again, people will read these words and get stuck in the words and forget the basis.”

“What basis?” I asked.

“The breath, the sound, the Self.”

09 November 1977 — Nova Scotia, Canada

Yesterday, November 8th, Bhagawat completed his 65th year. He got up early in the morning and enthusiastically joined us in the Temple at 5:30 AM. for the recitation of the “Sri Lalita Sahasranam Stotram.” In fact, this day he attended all three programs in the Temple — morning, afternoon and evening. I know for him to attend one of these is plenty. It seems when he joins in the recitations he does it with great intensity, which sometimes leaves him physically exhausted. Anyway, in these later years of his life simple Self-abidance or silence seizes him, making it difficult for him to move about or even brush his teeth in the mornings.

Yesterday, he quoted during a conversation the first verse of the īśāvāsyopaniśad:

ईशा वास्यम् इदं सर्वं यत् किञ्च जगत्यां जगत् ।
तेन त्यक्तेन भुञ्जीथा मा गृधः कस्य स्विद्धनम् ॥ १ ॥
 

īśā vāsyam idaṃ sarvaṃ yat kiñca jagatyāṃ jagat |
tena tyaktena bhuñjīthā mā gṛdhaḥ kasya sviddhanam || 1 ||
 

Whatever there is changeful in this ephemeral
world, all that must be enveloped by the Lord.
By this renunciation (of the world) support yourself.
Do not covet the wealth of anyone.

He quoted this in reference to a letter I wrote my brother. With this letter he was very pleased; so much so that while reading it he said: “You don't know, I am trembling within, my hair is standing on end.”

I had written in response to a very sincere and touching letter from my brother. He confided in me all his problems and aspirations, concluding that he had decided io strengthen his life by the practice of Sri Bhagavan’s teachings and regular contact with the Ashrama. After I read this letter out to Bhagawat he was visibly moved, as he mostly is whenever I mention to him this brother. I asked Bhagawat what reply he would suggest. He said: “You know. I need not say anything.” Again I asked, but the response was the same. Only on my third request for some of his thoughts on this matter he began a dialogue full of love and feeling, and whatever I couid grasp I incorporated into my reply. The theme which he never tires of repeating and living is that of “standing by.”

“I will always give my faith and support,” he began saying. “He should finish his M.A. degree. This should be carried through to the end. But the practice of Bhagavan’s teachings, the morning and evening regular practice, should be the basis or nourishment that sustains all other activities. This is a must.” And referring to the trouble my brother was having with some of his professors, he said: “‘These professors I have seen all over the world — holding their smoking pipes. They are more arrogant and unpleasant than anyone. With the businessmen in New York City I can have a warm and pleasant conversation, but such professors, they trample on people. But this should strengthen his resolve. I still say that he has a wonderful career ahead of him. I want him to get grants from the Fulbright Foundation and others.”

Concluding, with a whimsical gleam in his eye, he said: “When I say he should send his picture to a movie agent, I mean it is not just the physical appearance that is attractive, it's the inner qualities that show on the face. Good movie agents can see this. I say all this so he can know how I love him, care for him, and wish him the best. You can mention to him how this man wants him to send his picture to an agent. Then he will know how I care.”

Today he again quoted the same verse from the īśāvāsyopaniśad and said how he used to quote this verse often. I asked: “When? I never heard you repeat it before yesterday.”

“In the Ashrama?” he said. “Well, it must have been before I came. When did you first learn it?” I asked.

“Learn it? When that vision flashed before me long ago, then I started using the Verse.”

I asked him if that “long ago” was before he first came to America in 1947. Then he explained to me how one morning while living in Washington, DC, about 1957, he was standing in the doorway of his apartment, facing the street, when the truth of this verse flashed before him and he experienced “Whatever there is changeful in this ephemeral world - all that must be enveloped by the Lord.”

Dennis Hartel

Invocations

In the recesses of the lotus-shaped Hearts of all, beginning with Vishnu, there shines as pure intellect (Absolute Consciousness) the Paramatman who is the same as Arunachala or Ramana. When the mind melts with love of Him, and reaches the inmost recess of the Heart wherein He dwells as the Beloved, the subtle eye of pure intellect opens and He reveals Himself as Pure Consciousness.

The waters rise up from the sea as clouds, then fall as rain and run back to the sea in streams: nothing can keep them from returning to their source. Likewise the Jiva (individual soul) rising up from Thee cannot be kept from joining Thee again, although it turns in many eddies on its way. A bird which rises from the earth and soars into the sky can find no place of rest in midair, but must return again to earth. So indeed must all retrace their path, and when the jiva finds the way back to its source, it will sink and be merged in Thee, O Arunachala, Thou Ocean of Bliss.

– Five Hymns to Sri Arunachala;
Eight Stanzas, verse #8a;
Ramana Maharshi

The Mighty Mahatma Strides the Land

The Beginning: the Village

I prostrate at the Lotus Feet of the Great Guru, Arunachala Shiva Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, the Silent Sage of Tiruvannamalai, the Holy Hill of the Beacon Light, who, in His infinite compassion and mercy brought me into this body in the remote village of Sahuri, in the holy land of Mithila, the birthplace of the Divine Mother Sita and Yajnavalkya of the bṛhadāraṇyaka upaniṣad.

My Mother, Srimati Pancha Devi, and father, Sriman Girivar Roy, although illiterate from the formal education point of view, were a very religious and God-fearing couple. I was their youngest child and was brought up in the hope of being given a formal education so that I might be able to read and recite the religious epic poem, Ramayana, of Goswami Tulsidas, the immortal saint-poet of the Hindi language. Thus, my Lord, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, inspired my parents to name me Bhagawata — "a devotee of the Lord" — and to put me under the care of the village teacher, so that I might read and learn about the world.

From my earliest childhood I remember being given to contemplation and very serious and deep conyersation. That is why the villagers often called me “an old man in the body of a child,” and I can picture myself as I used to go about the village with a serious countenance and deep purpose

My village was in the backwoods, and devoid of even a place of worship. India is a land of God-intoxicated people, and it is very strange that this village could not even build a temple for its residents. To reach my village, one had to make a great effort. No road led to it and all of us had to walk through fields, farms, floodwaters and sun-baked lands and there was every likelihood of losing one’s way in the night.

Such was the setting in which I could be found always pondering over the purpose of human birth. What did I know of what it takes to attain the much-coveted human birth in which the individual might work out a solution and thus be released from the incessant cycle of births and deaths to which man is otherwise doomed? I knew nothing of the scriptural teaching handed down in the oral tradition. But Bhagavan filled me with so much yearning that I was always driven towards the Holy Hill of the Beacon Light. There was a serious atmosphere all around me even in the midst of my mother, brothers’ wives and other members of the family, and I was all the time wrapped up and talking of only the serious things in life. Even though I tried to learn to play like my companions, their childish games fell flat on me and I was thus saved from wasting my time.

One Afternoon

It was against this background that one afternnon, I guess in the last part of the year 1920, a visitor came to my village in a palanquin carried on the shoulders of some persons. The palanquin was placed on the ground of the mango orchard and its occupant remained sitting in it while the villagers were called to meet him there. The villagers rushed to the mango orchard and so did we children (for whom it was great excitement to meet someone from outside our village). I found myself among the crowd and looking at a heavy-set man, suitably dressed and with an air of great importance.

My second brother, Jageshwar, was in front of me and took the lead in discussing the burning question of the day that had brought this visitor to the village. This was the first time that the name of Mahatma Gandhi fell on my ears. I don’t remember the details of the conversation, as I was just eight years old then, but the atmosphere and impact of that meeting remains very fresh and vivid in my mind till today. My brother and the rest of the villagers present gave the visitor a solemn pledge to carry out to the best of their capacity the programs of the Non-Cooperation Movement that had been launched by Mahatma Gandhi.

That afternoon meeting was a great landmark in my own life. The memory is very much alive and fresh as I write about it after a lapse of nearly five decades. In the midst of the Mango trees, the sun was halfway down the western horizon. The day was neither cold nor hot as it was the end of winter and the spring season was beginning. There was calm and quiet all around the green leaves of the mango grove, but the advent of a visitor of importance in our out-of-the-way place brought to the placid quietness of the countryside a sense of excitement that we children naturally relished. We rejoiced in this occasion as something interesting was going on between the visitor and the rest of the villagers. I was seized with a great elation, for I sensed that here was an outlet for my natural zeal and enthusiasm and my longing for a great cause.

Although I did not fully understand all that passed between the Visitor and the village people, nevertheless, something gripped my soul and made a great impact on my life. The details of the meeting I cannot recount without referring the subject to my brother, who is, at the time of this writing, more than eleven thousand miles away from me, but on that momentous afternoon, my childhood — nay, my life — entered a new phase.

A Child’s Dream

From that afternoon, Mahatma Gandhi’s Non-Cooperation Movement became the focal point of my life. I was beside myself with joy that my village was going to play a part in carrying out Mahatma Gandhi's programs for achieving freedom for the nation. Children are always at the front of anything new, and for me it was all the more a great and momentous occasion as I could join the elders and partake of the cheer and joy that would attend doing something meaningful for society.

When my brother and the other elders of the village took leave of the visitor, they returned to our bungalow to chalk out the course of action that was to be followed as a result of our solemn pledge to the bearer of the message of the Non-Cooperation Movement. I hung around the meeting of the elders eager to plunge myself into the Movement. From that time onward, whenever and wherever a meeting was held to discuss the course of action for the village, I was always present — although not welcomed by my brother or the elders. But children have a way of being present, yet out of sight. I was the most inspired to attend the meetings because I felt that I was seething with the same impatience and restlessness that must have seized Gandhiji himself when launching the national movement for freeing the nation. How I wished I were older! How I wanted to participate in the Movement myself and not have to stand by and wait for others to come forward and yoke their shoulders to Gandhiji’s national Chariot of Non-Cooperationa. Alas my childhood stood in the way.

The name of Gandhiji kept on reverberating in my ears as all kinds of gossip and hearsay floated around the countryside. All kinds of commotion and agitation swept over us as one piece of hearsay was superseded by another. I enjoyed the thrill and excitement of the talk of Gandhiji bringing Swaraj to the nation within a year. The word Swaraj (liberation) gripped the imagination of the entire land. There was such a wave of enthusiasm pulsating through the country’s veins that it is really no wonder that Gandhiji’s promise to bring Swaraj to India eventually came true.

I lived and dreamed of attaining independence for our enslaved land. The Non-Cooperation Movement was the strong thread to which I found my very breath clinging so strenuously that any criticism of Gandhiji would make me sad and sullen; and how I wished that all of us could contribute our mite to making Swaraj a reality. I had been, no doubt, swept off my feet and submerged in this great national upheaval. As a child I flung myself into the Movement and joined the elders of my village.

Gossip and guesses kept on percolating in the countryside and I listened attentively to the stories of Gandhiji’s miracles. “Gandhiji was put behind bars, under lock and key, but he was found walking outside the prison gates,” said one villager to another. The other replied, “Why not? Since the Mahatma is an incarnation of God, there is nothing impossible for him to do, and the Angrez (English rulers) would not be able to arrest him. Every time they arrest him, using his miraculous powers, Gandhiji will get out of the jail.” The villagers thrived on such stories. We children naturally carried the stories to our mothers, taking great pride in being the purveyors of news to the women of our families.

Here, there and everywhere I found villagers gathering to exchange the latest bits of information. I was ever anxious to know how the Movement was doing, because I thought that all the programs must be translated into action if we were really to achieve Swaraj within the year. I was too eager to see that all the elders should come forward with all vigor, vitality and fervor to work toward the goal. My heart was heaving with enthusiasm and I didn’t want to miss a single opportunity to participate in the local movement. When the leaders of the village decided that we should form a volunteer corps to be in charge of the local committee’s work, I felt I was old enough to enlist as a volunteer.

According to the suggestion of Gandhiji, the housewives were to save something from their daily rations of food. Every Sunday the local volunteers would go about the households collecting the savings, and these would then be auctioned and the resulting cash deposited with the local treasurer. Very soon I found myself making the weekly rounds with the older people of the village, taking great pride and pleasure in participating in this noble effort. With my temperament and tendencies, I felt restless whenever I was not actively participating. My heart was very much steeped in the national cause even though I was only a child. I felt like devoting my whole life to retrieving the lost freedom of Mother India. My heart had been won by the Mighty Mahatma, who was then striding the land to awaken the slumbering nation.

Sunday Collection and the Green Sash

For the Sunday collection, the first thing done was the manufacture of badges for the volunteers. The badge was a sash of green color, worn around the shoulders. My second brother, Jageshwar, was very prominent in the local movement. His green sash was very attractive and I could not restrain myself from taking my brother’s badge and putting it round my shoulders. It made me feel that I was fully committed to the Non-Cooperation Movement and that I myself was doing something to further this great cause. That green sash filled me with inspiration and thoughts of the day, when, through the efforts of the volunteers and the frail man, Gandhiji, the bonds of subjugation should be rent asunder and all the men and women of Mother India would be masters of their own homes. For me, the Sunday collection meeting was a great landmark as, during all the bustle and conversation, I mingled with old and young, with the borrowed green sash around my shoulders.

I remember one Sunday scene. The villagers were all gathered in front of the big banyan tree near my home. It was early afternoon and we were analyzing tobacco, trying to determine if it was a foreign roduct, It was well known that Gandhiji emphasized that the nation should eschew tobacco, any kind of intoxicating drinks, foreign clothes, and government courts, schools and colleges. He advised us to lead a pure and simple life, decide local differences in local committees, take to spinning and weaving our own cloth, and start national schools and colleges. Just through the tactics of Non-Cooperation, the Mahatma dreamed of toppling the entrenched edifice of British rule.

That Sunday, the sun was shining and the local volunteers were cheerfully going around the households collecting from the housewives their contributions. We all felt a great sense of participation in the gigantic task of national liberation and all were inspired. I wanted to keep on pushing the slumbering nation: from the back and pulling it from the front. I could feel that the whole land was aflame. There was surely not a single hamlet or hut that was not resounding with the clarion call of Non-Cooperation and with the name of that frail man, affectionately and reverently called Mahatma Gandhi. He was the talk of every household — men and women, literate and illiterate, rich and poor, high and low, urban and rural, princes and paupers were talking about this Avatar (incarnation of God) who had come down to lead India to freedom.

All this was happening right before my eyes. In the group I had joined to help bring about Swaraj, I sensed the gravity of the Movement from the converations and discussions taking place. There had not been such a national upheaval in living memory. Suddenly the whole nation was rising to the promise of becoming its own master. As a child I was swimming and swaying in this great uproar and wanted to give it every ounce of my strength. Although I was restricted to merely walking with the volunteers in their weekly collection (even this was a special privilege granted to me by my parents and brothers), I was entirely steeped in the National Movement. I knew full well that I was too young to be taken seriously, but I did as much as I could do — moving about the village as a child, but with my heart immersed in the spectacular message of Gandhiji.

That Sunday afternoon is still fresh before me. Even though Bhagavan took me out of my village quite early in my life, those faces and events have remained with me as I have traversed the globe since then. This scene transcends village color, leaving an imprint that has carried me forward all the years of my life, filled with Gandhiji’s message of self-purification and independence.

As is well known, Gandhiji asked the nation to hold a day of purificatory fast. I also wanted to participate in this fast, as my heart was full of Gandhiji’s message. Decades later I read his autobiography wherein he describes how the idea of the fast came to him and its deeper meaning:

The idea came to me last night in a dream that we should call upon the country to observe a general hartal (strike). Satyagraha is a process of self-purification, and ours is a sacred fight. And it seems to me to be in the fitness of things that it should be commenced with an act of self-purification. Let all the people of India, therefore, suspend their business on that day and observe the day as one of fasting and prayer.

I remember that the fast was observed very religiously. Businesses came to a standstill all over the country. The impact was tremendous. India, being a religiously-oriented country, soared to ethereal heights in response to the Mahatma’s call. To violate the fast was to commit a grievous sin. Father, brothers, wives and children observed the fast. We took our early morning baths and prayed for the success of the launching of Satyagraha. I watched my mother and my brothers’ wives sweeping and scouring the entire house, making it spotless and pure, as is the practice in Indian homes in preparing for any religious observance. It is an occasion for external as wel l as internal purification.

Many meanings were given to the observance of the national fast day in order to appeal to the religious instincts of the people. All kinds of stories made the rounds in the village. Some people told us ofabout a group gathering in secret and drinking toddy (fermented palm tree juice) and how the volunteers chastised them and chased them away. As a child I enjoyed such exciting and and satisfying stories Satyagraha workers routing the desecraters of the fast day.

I watched closely everything that transpired in pursuance of the national programs of Gandhiji. Local quarrels were settled by the local committee and a very sharp eye was kept on strict adherence to the non-intoxication rules. Older persons tried to give up hookah smoking, but most found the habit too stubborn to be eradicated. I saw my parents struggling with it.

My second brother took the lead in the village committee. He was a guiding light to steer the village on the path of truth and non-violence. I sat through the committee meetings, happily absorbing all that went on. This was the most fruitful period of my growing up — in the midst of epoch-making events. Gandhiji was saturating my life. With one giant Stride, he had covered the whole country and reached the _hearts of the men and women (and children) of Mother India. It was a great moment when this slumbering giant was being awakened to its inherent power. The puny man, Gandhiji, had challenged the mighty alien rule and sounded the call to all sons and daughters of the land to forswear lethargy and faintheartedness and take up the arms of truth and non-violence, so that their country might regain its place the community of the world. From the land gavan Sri Krishna in Dwarka, Porbander, on the coast of the Arabian Sea, Gandhiji summoned India to its destiny.

I had not yet started the regular schooling that my parents and brothers dreamed of for me, their youngest child. They had been praying that at last a child of theirs would be educated and learn to read and write, and go out into the wide world and carry the name and tradition of the family. But I was completely consumed by the Movement. So, even from my childhood, Sri Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi made me dedicate myself to the service of mankind. And such service can only be done as an instrument of His will. Through this small man, Gandhiji, Sri Bhagavan first drew me onwards toward the Himalayan heights of renunciation.

There, in my village, I was very much in the deep waters of the National Movement. In my heart, I felt that I was in direct communion with the Power or Energy that is behind whatever takes place in the world. I could have leaped across the ocean to Lanka. like Hanuman, to free Sita, the Divine Mother, from the clutches of the demon king, Ravana — or to free Mother India from the clutches of foreign domination. It was not the child in me, but the Divine in me that kept me glued to the destiny of this giant land and the welfare of all mankind. Even from that young age, the most pressing problems that consumed me were always the problems of mankind.

Pilgrimage to the Holy Ganga

One of the projects that the Gandhi volunteers organized was giving aid to pilgrims at the many large religious gatherings at the river Ganga and other holy places. From my early childhood, I had Been accompanying my mother to Semariaghat to take a dip in the holy Ganga on auspicious occasions during the year, such as lunar and solar eclipses, full moons and new moons. To be allowed to take part in such religious observances is a great boon to a child which no doubt brings dividends later in life. We children looked forward to trekking to the Ganga for weeks in advance and all of us tried to collect a few pennies here and there to deposit with our mothers so that we might buy a few sweetmeats when we went for our holy bath.

I was with my mother and other family members when we all started out for Semariaghat, which js famous for the great crowds of religious pilgrims it attracts on auspicious occasions. We marched on foot from our homes, stopping along the way to rest; and I sat with my mother watching the other pilgrims pass by.

We set out again and reached the banks of the celestial Ganga by sundown. My mother and other companions from the village then chose a suitable place to spend the night under the Open sky. The moon was full and pilgrims kept arriving all night. I remember how my mother took us children to the waters of the Ganga, made us wash our feet, sprinkled holy water over our heads, and prayed to Mother Ganga for our health, happiness and longevity. I relished the touch of the clear, warm water of the Ganga, and felt it transmitted to me the power and glory for which this river of the gods is famous. Then we were given food. On the great expanse of white sand on the Ganga’s northern bank, encampments of pilgrims could be seen for miles and miles. Pilgrims from far away places mixed with the crowd asking the names of villages represented and about the people from each village. All night men and women called out in singsong voices, searching for friends and relatives in the great crowd. Children often got separated from their people, so there were several volunteers’ camps for lost-and-found children. Volunteers did their best to direct the crowd. They were Gandhiji’s volunteers, and his spirit was very much in the air.

I sat with my mother on the white sands, watching my brother and other volunteers from the village busy directing traffic and locating lost children. I remember vividly seeing one, Dhautal, from my village, standing proudly at the corner of a thoroughfare with his green sash round his shoulders. How I wished I were old enough to be in his place! The full moon in all its whiteness shone on the sparkling Ganga and on miles and miles of human heads. I was filled with excitement and joy at the spectacle of such a great multitude of religious-minded people in this sacred place to which, for thousands of years, numberless pilgrims had come from hundreds of miles away. The air was filled with the chanting of "Mahatma Gandhi Ki Jai, Bharata Mata Ki Jai, and Gangaji Ki Jai” (Victory to Mahatma Gandhi, tory to Mother India, Victory to Sacred River Ganga). The crowd was exhilarated and it seemed as though victory was already won and we were beginningto celebrate our liberation. My heart was full and I soared toethereal heights. The huge crowd represented to mwe the totality of the practice of righteousness in the lives of the people, and I was saturated with love and devotion for the religious and spiritual traditions of this great land, India., It was an electrifying experience. The name of Gandhiji was resounding through the huge crowd. The sight of the volunteers at work helping the pilgrims produced in me a flood of love and affection for this frail man, Gandhiji — the miracle man who had arisen to unite the people in a common cause.

Both the waves of the river of the gods and the waves of the many-throated incantations buoyed me up and my mind flew forward to the time when Bhagavan would provide me the opportunity to fulfill the promise of this human birth and give my all to bring succour and relief to all people suffering from ego and ignorance in this world. In my heart, I readied myself to march on to the goal that Gandhiji had set for the nation. I could brook no delay. Everything must be done at once to carry out Gandhiji’s commands. I was seething with impatience at the lethargy of some of the workers. With my mother sitting next to me I dreamed of the day when I would make my contribution to the liberation of the country. In my mother’s lap I could afford to dream of devoting my life to the peace, prosperity and progress of mankind.

The love my mother and father had for me was the greatest thing that a child could pray for. Though they have been gone a while, I feel their spiritual presence now as much as I felt their physical presence in my childhood and youth. Thus the Indian scriptures enjoin us to revere our parents, teachers, and guests as gods. There is deep meaning in those injunctions. Reverence cannot develop in a child’s heart without its being loved and looked after by its elders. So children imbibe these teachings early in life. This is not the place to go at length into the virtues and values of Indian family life, but I must say this before proceeding further — I owe a great deal to my parents brothers, sisters, and all the relatives, who have always been a great source of inspiration to me. Here on the sands of the sacred Ganga I was drinking deep of the love and affection of my mother as I witnessed so many aspects of the social, religious, and political life that were at the heart of Gandhiji’s movement.

I can still remember the sweet voice of my father; and never did I hear him speak ill of anyone. My mother, by her practical knowledge of family affairs, helped my father to cope with village crises and enabled all of us brothers and sisters to live an uncluttered life. It is to my mother’s credit that our family land was put to fruitful use. The happy combination of my mother and father has been an everlasting influence on my life. I bow to my parents again and again. The abundant spring of their love and affection has carried me through the world.

I Eat the Newspaper

My parents’ prayer regarding my education was answered in the form of a properly trained teacherarriving at our village school. It seems that the person who had been in charge of our schooling until then had been unable to teach even basic reading and pupils remained illiterate. The district board of education at last sent a fully qualified teacher and thus a new chapter opened in my life. T took to

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The Heart-rending News

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Under the Training of the Village Teacher

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I Leave My Village

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I Struggle in Village Pachamba

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Middle English School at Rampur

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The Smoldering Fire

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The Boy Scout

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The Double Dream

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Back in My Village

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At the Lotus Feet of Arunachala Ramana

Letters to Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi

New Year’s Day, 1962, New York City

At this time last year, I was at your lotus feet along with my nephew, Rambahadur, who was made an instrument of Arunachala to enable me to be present physically before you. For a full year, I have not been able to present myself at your lotus shrine, but you know how eagerly I pine for the day to return to Sri Ramanasramam with my family.

Bhagavan, I am your child and I cannot survive for a moment without your grace. I know it well that Shiva’s grace flows to me all the time uninterruptedly, and I drink deep in his grace. I have been made to return to the United States not because I wanted to come back, but because the Maharshi has something for which he has brought me here. Arunachala Shiva is ever present in my life, wherever I am. There are two things which keep on coming to me again and again: first, that I have not been lucky in sitting at the lotus feet of Bhagavan when he was in the body; second, that when Arunachala is ever present in my heart, where does the question arise of not seeing him in his lifetime? He may not be in the body, but he is with me all the time. This is what gives me solace, strength and faith, and on this basis I remain in him all the time.

I am a householder and the problem of earning a living and taking care of my family are the immediate tasks with which I am faced right now. Otherwise, I do feel I should be living at the Arunachala Shrine. But then Maharshi says I have to carry out the work assigned to this body, and this is a great consolation that keeps me alive and kicking. Time and again, he reminds me that he is with me all the time, provided I care to think of him. I believe that he looks after me all the time whether I am in a position to remember him or not. Since the advent of Bhagavan in my life I have found a new life and there has been peace and happiness all around amidst the worldly despair and gloom.

I always live on two planes: the physical and the spiritual. It is the spiritual plane that is the cornerstone of my life and on the sheer basis of its strength I live. Bhagavan abides in everyone’s heart and I can testify to it from my personal experience that he abides in me all the time. My words are no match for the wonderful experiences that have come to me. I feel them, I realize them and drink deep in the bliss that flows directly from Arunachala Shiva Bhagavan Sri Ramana. I cannot help writing these lines because they come to me spontaneously. For me, Bhagavan shines as brightly as the sun.

'om namo bhagavate śrī ramaṇāya' is the mantra I chant when I pick up the thread of his remembrance. I must admit that it is not all the time that I do it, not because I do not want to do it, but for the simple reason that I forget to return to my real moorings. Things of the world distract my attention and I keep sailing on the material plane until Bhagavan suddenly wakes me up from my slumber and asks me to pick up the thread I lost a little while before. For this grace, I am eternally grateful to Arunachala Ramana. Who am I to be grateful to him? It is his duty to bear my burden and he does it for me. I am his child and if I were to stray, no one but he would be blamed. But he is the creator, preserver and destroyer of the world and it is only his lila which makes me feel that way. He is ever abiding in our hearts and is taking care of us all the time.

The most wonderful thing for me – who did not have the good fortune of seeing him in his lifetime – is the experience that comes to me always. I consider myself very fortunate that the meaning of all the scriptures has been made clear to me during the short time that I have been drinking deep in his bliss. The truth is that I would not value it much if I am not made to suffer for it and then achieve it. I have to workout my destiny until I have surrendered completely to him. The obstacle that stands in my path to complete surrender is the feeling of not having surrendered myself to him. The moment I leave everything to him it does not take even seconds for the result to materialize. Maharshi is so kind, so full of the milk of human kindness, that now and then I begin to marvel whether at all I deserve his grace. But Ramana came to earth to lift the burden from our hearts and give us peace and happiness so that we may not return to the cycle of birth and death again. I always feel that he protects and saves me.

The other day I kept thinking of all the fortunate devotees who gathered at the lotus feet of Arunachala to participate in the munificent grace of Maharshi Ramana. Whenever I think him, the whole panorama of the Ashrama, with Bhagavan in the center, becomes vivid before me. I see the yogi of yogis walking towards the hall where many devotees have been waiting to get a glimpse of Arunachala Shiva incarnate before they return to the world of their own. Months and years have passed since Bhagavan walked on the earth, but for me he walks here, there and everywhere all the time. What I am writing here is not something wonderful. I am simply unburdening myself of the noble sentiments that move me towards his lotus feet.

I must admit that whenever I try to accomplish something on my own strength I fail miserably in the endeavor. But when I resign myself to the great Lord of Arunachala the result is there all at once. But my samskaras do not allow me to surrender to him fully, and for that reason I have to suffer in the world. But there is no suffering or trouble for me on the spiritual plane. No doubt there have been tests, acid tests, oftener than I have bargained for, but they are worth enjoying because I know that the end result of all the tests is the cleansing of my soul. I am writing these lines on the typewriter and before me is a photo of Bhagavan reclining on the sofa and looking benignly on me. Maharshi Ramana-putra Bhagawata is dedicating these flowers to the lotus feet of Arunachala Shiva Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. May he not forget his son, who is lost without his Father.

At the Lotus Feet Of Bhagavan

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How Bhagavan Came into My Life

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Bhagavan Initiates Me in a Dream

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In Thy Name I Wander

1966 – March 1st, Brooklyn, New York

For long I have been wandering in Thy Name. It is the greatest thing in my life to roam the streets of this metropolitan city in search of help, which would engage me full time in Thy service. Yet this desire remains unfulfilled. I seldom think of giving up the assignment and retire to the solitude of my home. The more I wander and receive discouraging replies, the more determined I become in Your Name. I run into all sorts of people and their attitude makes me carry on the work of Thy Center.

Like the dreamy-eyed boy I chalk out many plans and then set out to translate them into action with the help and assistance of those who are familiar with the American mind. But the moment they see me and learn that the only riches I possess are enshrined in Thy Name, they lose interest and give me a long list of reasons why this endeavor can't succeed. They are professionally trained to think in terms of solid riches which would enable them to prepare background material with facts, figures and photos. They find in me a beggar who is mad after his Bhagavan, and who wants to live and work in the Name of his Arunachala Ramana.

From year to year, month to month, week to week and day to day, I live and sleep in Thy Name. You are the goal towards which I have been walking all my life. Now when You are so near me, how can I give up the endeavor that is the very breath of my life? You are the only one that matters to me right now. When I have come to Your Feet, You don't wish me to suspend the effort and take shelter behind the plea of a difficult or impossible task. Many a time when I have sat silent without doing anything to promote the cause which is dearest to my heart, someone drops in and asks me why I am not doing something. Then I can't advance the same plea that I have been hearing all the time: that it is very difficult to do a thing like this in the metropolitan city. I pick up my begging bowl and go out again into the world in search of those who are destined to share my aspirations and dreams. I go to people with the thought that some of them may be inspired to recognize Thy hand and bind me with them in our devotion to Arunachala Ramana. Whenever I feel tired and troubled and wish to call off the begging, a call from within challenges my devotion to Bhagavan. Immediately the faith is rekindled and I hit the lonely trail and move on the road to Bhagavan's Ashrama. I hear from within that this city is destined to have a full-fledged center and I must go on with faith in Arunachala Ramana and the Ashrama will take shape.

It is not I who is anxious to build Arunachala Ashrama here. It is the direct hand of Bhagavan that keeps me here and makes me do tapasya in His Name. It is a great gift from my Guru, Grace and God, Arunachala Shiva Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, that inspires me to devote all my time to His Lotus Feet. How could it be possible to go begging without His Grace? There must be something in it that, in spite of all the rebuffs and rebukes from those whose help I anxiously seek, I am all the more inspired and strengthened to continue the begging. Sometimes on the physical plane I become disgusted, but Bhagavan tells me to offer everything to Him. I needn't take the despair and disappointment to heart, because it isn't I who am doing these things: it is Bhagavan working through me. This is my firm faith and no amount of worldly advice is able to swerve me from the path on which Arunachala has launched me.

These words are being written not because I want them to be recorded for posterity, but because I have been filled with His Grace so much that I can't contain it without putting these thoughts into words. There is something else that requires my immediate attention, but instead of doing that I am engaged in the thought of Bhagavan. For days I have had no inspiration or incentive to type anything and a few times I have wondered about my indifference. But this evening while I was glancing through the pages of the newspaper and before taking up an urgent work I was called upon to record these thoughts so that I may surrender everything to Him. Whatever I think or do, it is dedicated to the Ramana who resides within me as the Heart. I repeat this prayer all the time: “Arunachala! I have no will of my own. Thy Will is my will.” This is the crux of the entire teaching of Bhagavan. If I can immerse myself in it all the time, there is nothing in the world that is difficult to achieve.

When the iron is smelt in the fire all its impurities are removed. In the same way when a devotee goes through trials and tribulations his inner strength is tested and he is made pure so that he can withstand the temptations of the world. In the course of my wanderings, the more I seek help from the physical world the more it becomes evident to me that no physical world exists or moves without the Grace of God. So the best thing for me is to depend on that Source which is the inspirer of all ideas and objects. There should not be a single moment in my life without Arunachala Ramana.

I wander about like the drunken person who does not care what the world thinks of him. As he is oblivious to the physical world in his inebriated state, so am I drunk in /the Name of Arunachala Ramana. In my happiness I go to people and talk to them about the plan which would enable seekers of truth and happiness to congregate at a central place and immerse themselves in the Divine Bliss. That is something intangible and no one wants to delve into the realm of the abstract. It is too much for them to be detached from their existing preoccupations and plunge themselves into a spiritual world. This does not mean that they don't have the desire to benefit from it, but that they are content with their lot. I sometimes ponder over their refusal and feel discouraged and decide that I should devote myself more to solitude than to the din and bustle of the everyday existence.

How can I describe the ineffable joy in my Heart? This is a state which can only be experienced. Since happiness flows from Him to me, I am wandering in His Name so that I may be established in that indescribable state of mind. I don't know what awaits me in the future, but this much I believe that I am being led by Arunachala Ramana, and if it is His Will to see the center grow in this metropolitan city it will come to pass some day. But I can't go on the road all the time or keep myself shut in a solitary cell. So I move about in the world as I am being inspired and I learn a great deal in my search.

“OM SARVAM SRI RAMANARPANAMASTU” (everything is offered to Bhagavan Ramana), so all despair and disappointment are also offered to Him. But I don't remember this truth all the time, or there would be no regrets. At all times I should have the awareness of Arunachala Ramana and all my problems will be automatically solved. I must remember that I wander in His Name not because I want to do so, but because that is His Will. What can be a better time than now to settle down at a definite place and carry on bhajan and kirtan of Arunachala Shiva Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. He will surely give me the opportunity of dedicating my life to His Lotus Feet. Bhagavan is the Heart and I drink deep in the Heart and am blessed all the time. Every action is offered to the Silent Sage of Arunachala, and I wander about in His Name. O Arunachala Ramana! Why should I worry about my future when my life is safe in Thy Hands?

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“I Am The Lord”

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The Surging Ganga of Guru’s Grace

excerpt....

Bhagavan Is My Breath

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Advent of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi at Arunachala

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Sri Bhagavan Grants Our Prayer

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Letter to Sri V.Ganesan of Sri Ramanasramam

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Sri Arunachala Ramana’s Infinite Grace and Mercy

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Prayer to Arunachala Ramana

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Thou Art the Very Breath of My Life

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Arunachala Ashrama Rises on Canada’s Soil

IN the heart of New York City's Lower East Side on Sixth Street near First Avenue there is a small rented storefront meditation center known as Arunachala Ashrama, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi Center. Over the years many seekers have come to this Ashrama, joined the regular practice of prayer and meditation, and then moved on to different pursuits. But Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat has continued his spiritual practice in Arunachala Ashrama with or without companions all these years, knowing that disappointments come only to make us strong and fit for the future.

The history of this Center is the life-story of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, the man who sits faithfully on the Ashrama floor chanting and singing devotional hymns every night, as he has done since December 7, 1966. He was the man inspired and inebriated with his dream of building a residential ashrama in the open-air surroundings "where people from Wall Street can sit on the grass." Also, he dreamed of building a temple on Fifth Avenue in New York City in honor of the great sage of modern India, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.

Known throughout the Eastern world as a great sage in the line of Sankara, Ramanuja and Dakshinamurty, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi was, during the seventy years of His life, and continues to be the Spiritual Father and Mother of thousands of devotees and disciples the world over. Those who knew Him in body and those who came to His teaching after His death in 1950 continue to feel His inspiring and guiding presence.

As a lad of sixteen, he attained Enlightenment and left His home, drawn as though by an inner magnet to the foot of the towering Aruna Hill, never to forsake it. Although Sri Bhagavan's teaching was and is largely imparted in silence, His answers to the questions of His devotees who came from all over the globe to have his darshan are recorded in Tamil verse and prose. It was the advent of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi in the life of Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat that inspired the dream of an Arunachala Ashrama in the Western Hemisphere.

In the fall of 1970, a young couple from New Jersey, Joan and Matthew Greenblatt, each only 19 years old, walked in through the New York Ashrama door and fell into the nightly spiritual practice with devotional fervor. Until then, the couple had no idea of the future awaiting them. Nor until then did they feel an inner awakening which filled their lives and turned their minds inward to the source of joy, which was to be the mainstay in their new life. Drawn by the practice of nightly recitation, chanting and sitting in silence, as well as the warm and simple devotional nature of their new friend, Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, Joan and Matthew would come again and again until their normal life and the life of service to the Ashrama merged.

In the autumn of 1971, an offer came for the gift of a small farm in Nova Scotia, Canada. Without a second's thought, the Greenblatts became the instrument of Divine Grace in Bhagawat's life. Within twelve hours, the young couple was driving north in pursuit of land for a residential ashrama. They drove straight to the intending donor's home near Halifax (Nova Scotia), only to discover that his enthusiasm had meanwhile waned. Encouraged by the friendliness of all they met, they went from door to door asking the residents if they knew about any farm for sale. Each evening they would return from their search to the home of a kind, elderly couple, the Taylors of Clarence (Nova Scotia). As the search continued, the feeling began to grow on the young couple that the farmhouse where they returned in the evenings for warm food and conversation would be their own home! The Taylors had been planning to sell their farm and return to town.

This is how Joan and Matthew, with hardly any money, made a token down payment on the farm of 130 acres at the foot of the northern mountain range in the peaceful Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia.

Soon after, the work of fund-raising was undertaken. The Greenblatts begged and borrowed from every person they knew and also those they did not know, but their efforts bore no fruit until a short while before their departure for the North. After they arrived in Nova Scotia the work began with exuberance for converting the farm into a residential Ashrama for all devotees of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. From the end of April, 1972, the young couple and a fellow friend and devotee, Dennis J.Hartel of Tonawanda, New York State, started working fulltime to make the farm a home for all aspirants and children of the Universal Spirit who came to its door.

The country Ashram is dedicated to the simple life of hard work and practice of Sri Ramana Maharshi's teaching of Self-Enquiry of "WHO AM I?" and total surrender to the Divine Presence. Every evening at seven and morning before dawn, Sanskrit hymns and chants resound with the sweetness that comes directly from the Heart. This is followed by silence, then by the reading of teachings. The doors of the Ashrama, both in New York City and Nova Scotia, are always open to all.

We offer our infinite gratitude for the blessings showered, upon our bodies and minds in this lifetime. All praises be to Life Universal in the form of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi, who by Divine Grace has brought the dream of a man from the backwoods of India, Arunachala Bhakta Bhagawat, to fruition.

– Evelyn Kaselow

Chronology

      1912 Born in Sahuri, Bihar, India; 25.4768° N, 86.0829° E

1912-1924 Lived in village Sahuri and attended lower primary school

1925-1926 Attended Pachamba Upper Primary School and lived in Pachamba

1927-1928 Attended Rampur Middle English School and lived in Dahiya

1929-1934 Attended Begusarai English High School and
          was active in Gandhiji’s National Movement

     1930 Imprisoned for six months in Bhagalpur Central Jail

     1935 Passed high school from Sri Sanatan Dharma Vidyalaya in Calcutta

1935-1937 Attended Banaras Hindu University

1937-1939 Attended Patna University, Bihar and received B.A

1940-1941 Taught at Himachala Hindi Bhavan School, Darjeeling

1942-1943 Participated in Gandhiji’s Quit India Movement

     1944 Joined the editorial staff of monthly Vikrama in Ujjain, Central India

1945-1946 Worked in the News Room of the Hindusthan Standard, Calcutta

1947-1949 Went to the United States, received M.A, from the Univ. Iowa, Iowa City

1949-1957 Worked for the Embassy of India, Washington D.C,

1958-1959 Travelled in the United States

1959-1961 Returned to India

1962-1963 Went again to the United States, taught Indian Civilization
          at Bates College, Maine

1963-1966 Worked for the Indian Mission to the United Nations, New York City

     1966 Founded Arunachala Ashrama, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi Center, NY City

     1972 Arunachala Ashrama, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi Center, Nova Scotia, Canada