‘The Self is known to every one but not clearly. You always exist. The Be-ing is the Self. ‘I am’ is the name of God. Of all definitions of God, none is indeed so well put as the Biblical statement ‘I AM THAT I AM’ in Exodus (Chap.3). There are other statements, such as Brahmaivaham, Aham Brahmasmi and Soham. But none is so direct as the name JEHOVAH = I AM. The Absolute Being is what is—It is the Self. It is God. Knowing the Self, God is known. In fact God is none other than the Self.

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‘...Bliss is not something to be got. On the other hand you are always Bliss. This desire [for Bliss] is born of the sense of incompleteness. To whom is this sense of incompleteness? Enquire. In deep sleep you were blissful. Now you are not so. What has interposed between that Bliss and this non-bliss? It is the ego. Seek its source and find you are Bliss.

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‘There is nothing new to get. You have on the other hand, to get rid of your ignorance, which makes you think you are other than Bliss. For whom is this ignorance? It is to the ego. Trace the source of the ego. Then the ego is lost and Bliss remains over. It is eternal You are That, here and now... This is the master key for solving all doubts. The doubts arise in the mind. The mind is born of the ego. The ego rises from the Self. Search the source of the ego and the Self is revealed. That alone remains. The universe is only expanded Self. It is not different from the Self...

‘The seat of Realisation is within and the seeker cannot find it as an object outside him. That seat is Bliss and the core of all beings. Hence it is called the Heart. The only useful purpose of the present birth is to turn within and realise it. There is nothing else to do.’ [1]

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Founder-Guru: Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi (1880-1950) was one of India’s greatest sages, whose profundity, simplicity and living influence has been a growing message for our time, since his Mahasamadhi on 14th April 1950.

 

He was born in Tiruchuzhi, an ancient pilgrim centre near Madurai, on 31st December 1879, the second son of Sundaram Iyer (a prominent Vakil—or court pleader) and his pious mother Azhagammal. They named him Venkataraman. He grew up with his elder brother Nagaswami and his younger brother Nagasundaram and little sister Alamelu. At school he was renowned for his phenomenal memory, perfect handwriting and his knowledge of Tamil grammar. In his free time, like any youngster, he greatly enjoyed boisterous games such as swimming and football.

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His father died when he was only twelve years old. This event made a great impression on him and he pondered long on the mystery of death. He came to the conclusion that it was the sense of ‘I’-ness which had quit his father’s body. Without a father, Venkataraman and his elder brother were sent to live with their paternal uncle Subba Iyer in Madurai. There he continued his studies. But as his inner awakening unknowingly began to develop, outwardly he became a disinterested and sleepy scholar. At times, he would fall into a deep samadhi-like sleep, whereupon his schoolmates took mischievous delight in thumping him around and carrying him from one place to another, without him ever waking up. One night he inadvertently locked his relatives out of the house and after they finally succeeded in breaking in, he was beaten soundly for his forgetfulness. But to their annoyance, he knew nothing about it until they told him about it next morning.

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It was on 17th July, 1896, when still only a boy of sixteen, Venkataraman had the unique and unlooked for experience of spontaneous enlightenment, which stayed with him for life. It happened in the upper room of his uncle’s house. Although in perfect health, he was suddenly overcome by a violent fear of death. He felt that he was immediately about to die. Fatalistically accepting the situation, he lay down on the floor, holding his breath and stiffening his limbs as if in rigor mortis, ready to acutely observe the process of death. As this extraordinary condition crept over him, he was overcome by a deeply intuitive understanding of Reality.

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‘“Well then,” I said to myself, “this body is dead... But with the death of this body am I dead? Is this body I?”’ [2]

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And with this perception, his previously illusory identification with the body vanished. At the same moment his sense of ego and the fear of death evaporated. There arose instead a realisation of his true identity-being that of the deathless Spirit, or Self (the true ‘I AM-ness’) which underlies all phenomena. This was the highest yogic experience known as Sat-Darsanam - or ‘abidance in the heart’.

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For two months after this momentous event—of which he said nothing to anyone—he quietly continued his life of a schoolboy, with few outward signs of change. There were to be several months of consolidation before the inner glory was visible to others. However, from that moment he withdrew from the boisterous and competitive games he once enjoyed. Neglecting his studies he would frequently lapse into the state of samadhi while poring over his schoolbooks. On one such occasion, his brother sarcastically remarked “What is the use of study for such a one?” intimating ‘one who is obviously destined to be a yogi.’ Venkataraman immediately perceived the truth of this remark. Shortly after he slipped away from home in answer to an inner call.

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Only three weeks before, a relative announced that he had just come from Arunachala. It was a revelation to the boy, who had thought it a legendary place. The magic of this name filled his being with an irresistible longing to be there. With only three rupees to his name, he took the first train towards Tiruvannamalai and the mysterious holy hill of Arunachala. And after three days of problemmatical journeying, on 1st September 1986, he arrived in Tiruvannamalai. There he threw away his sacred thread, had his head shaved and went directly to the inner sanctum of the Great Shiva Temple at the foot of Arunachala. For many weeks he lived in the temple precincts, absorbed in the blissful rapture of the Self. He was unmindful of food or bodily needs, not even taking a bath for over four months.

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His immobile, dust-covered figure attracted the local urchins, who began to torment him and pelt him with stones. Finally he awakened sufficiently to move down into a dank cellar hole below the temple. Weeks later, a devotee named Venkatacha Mudali, saw a group of street urchins throwing stones down the cellar steps. On investigation, he discovered the young Brahmin boy in a state of samadhi. When he was carried out, still deep in samadhi, it was found that vermin had eaten into his legs, which were covered in sores and pus and had been matted to ground with blood.

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Since no one knew his name, for the next few years, he was known as ‘Brahmana Swami’. As an illumined and silent boy-sage, he lived in various caves and shrines on and around the Hill. In spite of his unkempt appearance, long matted hair and long curling fingernails, his radiant features attracted a considerable following. Growing numbers of holymen and householders alike slowly became aware of his inner achievement. At the age of twenty, he moved into Virupaksha cave (named after Virupaksha Deva, a 13th century saint who lived and was buried there) on the slopes of Arunachala. For the next sixteen years he lived in this hot, womb-like rock. He called it the ‘Mother’ or the ‘Heart-cave’ of Shiva. Here his family came and discovered him again. His mother made several tearful and futile attempts to persuade him to return home. Without breaking his silence, he wrote his first teaching message on a piece of paper:

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‘The Creator, remaining everywhere, makes each one play his role in life according to their karma. That which is not destined will not happen, despite every effort. What is destined is bound to happen. This is certain. Therefore the best is to remain silent.’ [3]

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Eventually, Azhagammal and his younger brother Niranjananda came to live with him at Skandashram, a small dwelling further up the hill. They became his devoted disciples, organising food and cooking proper meals. This was the beginning of ashram life around the sage.

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One of the most advanced Sanskrit scholars, poet and spiritual preceptor—Kavyakanta Ganapati Shastri (otherwise known as Narayana Muni) who had many followers of his own—was overwhelmed to recognise the greatness of the boy’s spiritual stature. The Muni had read every book worth reading and met every Guru worth meeting. But on encountering ‘Brahmana Swami,’ he immediately recognised that the young man’s attainment surpassed all others he had known. Due to the Muni’s heart-burning desperation and spiritual agony, for the first time the boy-sage compassionately broke his silence of eleven years, in order to instruct him. This blessing to the world occurred on 18th November 1907. Their ensuing ‘father-son’ relationship over the years became a legend. On learning Venkataraman’s name, the Muni revived the diminutive pet name of his youth—‘Ramana.’ One meaning of Ramana is ‘dear darling’ and another is ‘he who revels in the Self.’ In recognition of his stature, Ganapati declared that the young man should henceforth be known by all as Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.

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After moving in to Skandashram, for the rest of her life Bhagavan’s mother Azhagammal stalwartly accustomed herself to the rough life of a sadhu. She knew hundreds of devotional songs and would constantly sing or recite mantrams. All fondly knew her as ‘Amma’ the ashram ‘Mother’. On the day of her decease (19th May, 1922) after a long illness, Bhagavan perceived that she was processing her karma and her future lives. At her last breath, she finally attained enlightenment when expiring in his arms. He later recalled: “When mother had her liberation, her body was put in the sitting posture. There was no mark of death on her face. She was like one seated in deep samadhi, divinely lustrous.” [4]

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To commemorate this event, the powerful Matrabhuteswara Temple was built around her samadhi-tomb at the foot of the hill. It took nearly ten years to complete. Bhagavan supervised the building work, eventually moving down to a hut beside the temple (in December 1922) where he remained until the end of his days. The present ashram gradually grew up around the temple, managed by Niranjananda Swami from 1929 to 1953.

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Bhagavan’s quality of answering seeker’s questions—mostly in radiant silence—and bringing peace to their minds (as did the great sage of antiquity, Dakshinamurthi) brought visitors flocking from all over the world. Those who were too full of themselves to appreciate and absorb the silent teaching rebuked him, asking why such a Self-Realised sage did not go about and preach the Truth to suffering mankind at large. He replied:

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‘How do you know that I am not doing it? Does preaching consist in mounting a platform and haranguing to the people around? Preaching is simple communication of knowledge. It may be done in Silence too.

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‘What do you think of a man listening to a harangue for an hour and going away without being impressed by it so as to change his life? Compare him with another who sits in a holy presence and leaves after some time with his outlook on life totally changed. Which is better: To preach loudly without effect or to sit silently sending forth intuitive forces to play on others?’ [1]

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However, he was also always ready to answer the questions of sincere seekers who needed verbal answers to their problems. Generally he turned their questions back on themselves, leading them away from inessentials towards a profounder sense of Self-enquiry. He enjoined them to ask instead: ‘Who am I who is asking the question? Know that, and there will be no more questions.’

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When asked for a spiritual sadhana (practice) to follow, he advised four basic methods: firstly, for those capable of it, the best was to simply abide as the Self, untouched by the movements of mind, ego and intellect. If that proved too difficult, the next best was to enquire ‘Who am l?’—by constantly eliminating thought and seeking the arising place of the ‘I’ concept. If thoughts were still too insistent, then mantra japa (verbal or mental repetition of sacred syllables) was prescribed, or temporary control of the breath. Otherwise he suggested surrendering oneself in loving devotion to ‘God’ however personally conceived—whether as Brahman, Shiva, Krishna, the Higher Power or Self. The path of wisdom and enquiry (Jnana) and that of devotion (Bhakti) were considered equal, complementary and ultimately one and the same.

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‘He who is in the jaws of the tiger cannot be rescued; so also a person who has fallen into the grace of a guru cannot escape from it… The greatest service to the guru is to be engaged in self-enquiry and meditation in all sincerity.’ [5]

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Early in February 1949, during the final year of his life, a small growth was found on Bhagavan’s elbow, which was surgically removed by the ashram doctor. The growth later returned and was diagnosed as a cancerous sarcoma. Pressed by the doctors, Bhagavan patiently underwent three more operations. But his flesh was gouged out to the bone to no avail, as the sarcoma came back again each time. When amputation of his whole arm was proposed as the only remaining solution, he finally refused further treatment. Yet although in excruciating pain, right up until the moment of his passing, Bhagavan insisted that all visitors should be allowed his darshan whether by day or night. When asked if it was hurting, he replied with a soft voice and a beatific smile: “If you know the pain of a scorpion bite, then imagine a thousand scorpion bites—it is somewhat like that.”

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On the evening of 14th April 1950, as the devotoees began to sing ‘Arunachala Shiva,’ Ramana’s face lit up with joy and tears flowed down his cheeks. Shortly thereafter, at 8.47 pm his breath quietly subsided and he entered Mahanirvana. At that precise moment, a brilliant light like a huge comet slowly rose from the south to north over Arunachala in a vast arc, witnessed by thousands all over India from Madras to as far away as Bombay. Hundreds of devotees understood the meaning of this portent and immediately flocked to the ashram for a last glimpse of the Divine sage.

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Bhagavan was a rare jñani whose spiritual attainment and eminence is a beacon for all. His photograph is still reverentially displayed in ashrams of all persuasions all over India. He inspired such writers and illuminati as Carl Jung, Paul Brunton (who first brought his teachings to the West), S.Radhakrishnan, Arthur Osborne, Dilip Kumar Roy, Douglas Harding, T.M.P.Mahadevan, Narayana Guru, Mahatma Gandhi and Swami Sivananda, who all wrote tributes to his transcendence:

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“Beautiful beyond dreams, the most enthralling inner life of the divine sage Sri Ramana, its spiritual adventures and its divine achievements quicken higher aspirations and upward urges in the depths of being…The very thought of Sri Ramana in a noble heart induces an attitude of adoration and beckons it to his view and way of life. Sri Ramana is an eternal invitation to consummate Perfection: he is the call Divine.”

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“Sri Ramana is the spiritual Destiny of every man.”

—Swami Sivananda (Rishikesh)

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Ashram President: V.S. Ramanan. (Ganeshan’s brother Sundaram became President in 1956.)

Ashram-in-charge: Mr. Muni.

Studies: Today the ashram activities are basically of a traditional nature only. There is no teacher, other than the continuing radiation of Bhagavan’s presence—for on his deathbed he assured troubled devotees: ‘I am not going away. Where could I go? I am here’. Early morning pujas are held in the Samadhi Mandir, with Vedic chanting, bhajans and also a pre-lunch puja, and evening Arati.

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Special days for celebration are Poornam (full moon) with the Sri Chakra Puja, the Fire Ceremony (homam) and circumambulation of the holy Hill; Jayanthi (Bhagavan’s birthday) on 10th or 13th January (with a 12-hour homam); and Deepam (lighting the beacon on Arunachala) on 7th December or nearest full moon. Attendance at any function is optional and visitors are left to their own devices, free to meditate in the Samadhi Mandir, or the Darshan room (which contains a large photographic portrait of Bhagavan set on the couch on which he used to lie), or in the small curio-shrineroom, where some of his effects are kept.

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An important practice of devotees is giripradakshina—or circumambulation of the Holy Hill, a three—hour walk around its base. Of this practice, Bhagavan said:

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‘There is nothing better than giripradakshina. That alone is enough. If you do japa or meditation sitting in one place, the mind may wander. But during giripradakshina, the limbs move but the mind will be still. Doing japa or meditation without any other thoughts while walking is called samadhi in movement...There are several siddhas and sages on the hill even now, though we cannot see them. They also go round the hill unseen by us.

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‘When we go round the hill we should walk on the left side of the road, otherwise we shall be obstructing their movement. We will also have the benefit of walking around them. We will get their blessings also.

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‘For everybody it is good to do pradakshina. It does not matter of one has faith in the pradakshina or not…whether they believe it or not, the hill will do good to all those who go around it.’ [6]

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Daily Programme:

6.45 a.m. Milk offering at the Shrine of Sri Bhagavan (then distributed as prashad to the devotees).

7 a.m: Breakfast.

8.00 - 9.30 a.m: Vedaparayanam—Chanting of the Vedas in front of Sri Bhagavan’s Shrine, followed by Puja at the Shrine of his Mother.

11 a.m: Narayana Seva—Feeding the poor.

11.30 a.m: Lunch.

12 noon: Rest period.

4 p.m: Tea/hot milk served.

4.30 - 5.00 p.m: Readings from works by, or on, Sri Bhagavan.

5.30 p.m: Puja at the Shrine of Sri Bhagavan.

6 p.m: Puja at the Shrine of the Mother.

6.30 p.m: Tamil Parayana (chanting) on all days except Sunday.

7.30 p.m: Supper is served.

8.30 p.m. Temple closes.