Silence is Conversation

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While I was online the other day, I found this beautiful story of Bhagavan's Grace...

 

Dr. Lt.Col. P.V. Karamchandani

Normally, as soon as I place my head on the pillow I fall asleep. One

night in February 1949 at Vellore, for no conscious reason, I could

not sleep and kept tossing in bed. That was something very unusual.

At 1 a.m. a telephone call came from Tiruvannamalai, a town

fifty-five miles away, asking me to reach there by 8 a.m., as

Bhagavan Ramana was very ill. Having received the call, I fell sound

asleep.

I was the District Medical Officer of North Arcot then, and

Tiruvannamalai was within my jurisdiction. I reached Tiruvannamalai

without any emotion. My only thought was that I was on a professional

mission of attending on a patient. The sainthood of Bhagavan Ramana

had no significance for me. I examined Bhagavan Ramana. He had cancer

of the main nerve, high up in the arm. I gave my prescription and

returned to Vellore the same day. I had conducted my examination of

Bhagavan Ramana in a strictly professional manner. I carried no

spiritual feelings for him, nor did he speak a word with me. But he

had directed a momentary gaze of grace at me which kept stirring me

deeply. Involuntarily, I felt a new vista of spiritual consciousness

open out before me. That wondrous gaze of Bhagavan seemed to envelop

me with an aura of bliss. The spiritual pull from him felt so

irresistible that after a few days I myself arranged a visit to

Tiruvannamalai just for the sake of having his darshan. I took my

wife with me. We visited Bhagavan with a sense of curiosity and an

indefinable sense of expectation. We made our obeisance and sat by

his feet. We did not speak a word, nor did he speak. No speech seemed

necessary. So surcharged with spirituality was he that his

spirituality wafted out to us, completely enveloping us. Serenity

seeped into us. Our minds attained a state of blissful, ecstatic

meditation. The tumour that Bhagavan was bearing must have given him

the most excruciating, nerve-wracking pain. Such writhing pain would

make the toughest man wince and moan. But Bhagavan's face was serene,

smiling and radiant. All of a sudden a disciple accidentally touched

only the fringe of the thin bandage that was covering Bhagavan's

tumour. Bhagavan gave an involuntary start. The disciple felt

bewildered and mumbled, "Bhagavan, did I hurt you? It was only the

fringe of the bandage that my hand touched." Bhagavan smiled his

benign smile and softly said, "You do not know the enormous weight,

as of a mountain, that this fringe bears!" That chance exclamation of

Bhagavan indicated the severity of his pain. But his godly face did

not bear the slightest sign of his agony. It reflected only joy and

peace. He seemed to have switched off his mind from the body to the

divine. The next occasion when I was summoned to Bhagavan's presence

was when he had developed anuria. I now went to his Ashram not with

the all-important feeling of a District Medical Officer going to

visit his patient. I went in the spirit of a humble devotee going to

serve a saint of colossal spiritual magnitude. My ministrations as a

doctor were to be coupled with the devotion of a disciple. When I

reached the Ashram I was told that for the past twenty-four hours

Bhagavan had not taken any food, not even a drop of water; that the

disciples' implorations in this behalf had failed; and that, in

consequence, the entire community was feeling most anxious. I was

entreated to persuade Bhagavan to eat something. On examining

Bhagavan I found that it was imperative that he should take some

fluid. But what if he refused my request too? Ordering him in my

capacity as a doctor seemed to be out of the question. I felt like

asking him as a boon to accept my prayer. I prayed inwardly and held

a glass of buttermilk before him. He gazed at me for a second, took

the buttermilk in shaking hands, and drank it. My joy knew no bounds.

There were relief and jubilation all around. I was thanked profusely,

but I felt infinitely grateful for Bhagavan's overwhelming grace. He

had heard my silent prayer and granted my boon. Wonderful was the

spiritual exhilaration I experienced in Bhagavan's holy presence. The

next time I was called to him was at midnight. When I entered his

room, four disciples were there. Bhagavan was saying something to

them in Tamil. They told me that he was asking them to leave the room

but that they wanted to stay as, according to them, he was in a

delirium. I persuaded them to go. Three of them went away. The fourth

one stayed on. Bhagavan turned to him and whispered, "You are not

going away because you feel that you love me more than the others!"

The disciple now knew that Bhagavan was not delirious. He bowed and

went. I was left alone with Bhagavan. As usual, he did not speak with

me. I was also silent. But the vibrations that emanated from him were

celestial. His body must have been in terrific, mortal pain, but his

heavenly spirituality was unaffected by it. A rapturous thrill

electrified my entire being. I administered to his body; but I was

hardly conscious that I was a District Medical Officer. I was

conscious only of an intense desire to worship this illumined soul. I

had learned that Bhagavan did not allow devotees to touch his feet.

But I felt a deep urge within me not only to touch his blessed feet

but to press them lovingly. I took courage in both my hands and

pressed them. The wonder of wonders! Bhagavan let me do so! His grace

was abounding. I considered myself in the seventh heaven. I glorify

those few minutes of my life. The next time I was summoned to him was

about three hours after midnight. Pain must have been torturing his

body. Still, he was sound asleep. Holy silence filled the room. It

was the ambrosial hour of the dawn. I did not wish to disturb him. I

sat quietly by his feet. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. His gracious

gaze fell on me. He softly muttered, "D. M. O.!" The peculiar tone in

which he mentioned me indicated that I had been in his sacred thoughts

and that he was expecting me. I felt myself blessed. I silently

worshipped him. My whole being seemed to vibrate with ecstasy. At

that time I had been feeling restless about a promotion to the rank

of Major General (Surgeon General) which was legitimately due to me

as the seniormost I. M. S. Officer in the Province of Madras. However

I tried to banish the idea of that coveted promotion from my mind, it

loomed large before my mind's eye and marred my equanimity. Then I

said to myself, "Why am I fretting unnecessarily? The next time I

visit Bhagavan, I shall request him to grant me this promotion!" When

I visited the Ashram again I went before Bhagavan with my mind

resolutely set on requesting him for that boon. But a marvel

happened. As soon as I saw Bhagavan my mind melted, the resolution

evaporated, and I felt filled with a strange contentment. A request

did formulate itself within me, but it was an entirely different

request. I inwardly prayed, "Bhagavan, free me from my craving for

this promotion. I don't want anything mundane. Instead, grant me my

soul's evolution." My prayer seemed to be instantly granted.

Effulgent joy flooded the very depths of my being. I reverently bowed

before Bhagavan and he gazed at me benevolently. My last visit to

Bhagavan was on the day he attained Nirvana. I have described it in

my book, Saintly Galaxy: how, on visiting him, I found that his body

would not last beyond that day; how I silently prayed that he might

retain his body till I brought my wife from Vellore as she had always

been anxious to witness a great saint's last moments of life; how she

brought orange juice for him; how he would not accept any drink at

all; how, once again inwardly, I implored him to drink the orange

juice to save my wife from deep disappointment; how he accepted my

unspoken prayer and asked for orange juice to the transcendental

delight of my wife and myself; and how, shortly afterwards, in utter

tranquillity, he passed on. That was a scene of great sombre beauty.

During my two months' contact with Bhagavan, I did not speak a single

word with him. But what wonderful grace he poured into me through his

benign, benevolent gaze! A peerless spiritual experience indeed!

[Guest guest]

)))))))))))))))))

 

Love, Shawn