THE OMNISCIENT RAMANA

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THE MAHARSHI

March/April 2004Vol. 14 - No. 2

Produced & Edited byDennis HartelDr. Anil K. Sharma

 

 

 

THE OMNISCIENT RAMANABy M. R. Venkataraman

 

I HAD the great fortune to have daily ‘darshan’ of Bhagavan during the

last few years of His mortal life, for I studied in Tiruvannamalai. My

father, the late Dr. M. R. Krishnamurthy, had on an impulse

relinquished his medical practice to be of service to him.

My mother, Subbulakshmi Ammal, was equally devoted to the Bhagavan.

She used to prepare snacks and take them to Ramanasramam as an

offering to the sage and for distribution among the devotees present

in the meditation hall. After school hours, I used to visit the

Ashram in the company of my parents. During the last few months of

Bhagavan’s life when he was seriously ill, my father stayed on for

night duty and I was sometimes his silent companion.

It was the actual experience of many devotees that Bhagavan was aware

of even their unspoken thoughts and he would respond to them in a

manner that was truly amazing. This was because a life-link comes to

be established between disciple and Guru, like the one between

parents and children and among brothers and sisters, which Bhagavan

himself had hinted at. This characteristic of Bhagavan was brought

home to me in a telling incident that shall remain etched in my

memory and the purpose of this article is only to share that

experience with others.

In Tiruvannamalai town, our residence was on Avarangattu Street and

four doors away lived an old lady whom we called ‘Mudaliar Patti’

(not to be confused with Alangartanni Ammal of Karaikal who was also

known by the same name). I was studying in standard nine (it was

called ‘form four’ in those days).

One evening when I returned from school I heard this ‘Patti’ telling

my mother, “Do you know that Brahmana Swami1 did most of his

alms-taking on this street of ours during his early days on the hill?

He was given to silence in those days. He would stand in front of our

house and clap his hands in order to draw our attention. We used to

keep a stock of sour porridge (‘pulithakuzhu’) always in our house. I

would take a bowlful of this and pour it into the cupped hands of the

Swami. He would drink the porridge with relish and walk away without

even wiping his hands!”

I did not believe this story and told my mother that ‘Mudaliar Patti’

was spinning a yarn. “Bhagavan would never have taken food from her

hands,” I said.

The next thing I knew was a stinging slap on my back. It was from my

mother who was livid with anger. “How dare you sit in judgment over

any action reported of a realized soul like Bhagavan? Are we not

ordinary mortals who should know our place? Let this be the first and

last time of sacrilege on your part!” I was chastened by the ferocious

intensity of my mother’s bhakti.

The next day was a holiday and I accompanied my mother to the Ashram

as she took a vessel of ‘omappodi’ (fried South Indian savory) for

distribution there. Sachidanandam, an attendant of Bhagavan who we

knew well, was on duty in the meditation hall.

As Bhagavan sampled this snack brought by mother, he spoke to her,

“Subbulakshmi, only today did Sachidanandam tell me that you used to

give bhiksha to him in the early days and that he would receive the

mixed rice in his towel. Noticing the sambar dripping through, it

seems you bought for him a copper thooku that had a lead coating

inside. Well, he had at least a towel to start with but I had no such

luxury in my begging days.”

Bhagavan went on to reminisce, “You know Mudaliar Patti, who is a

neighbour of yours now. I would stand in front of her house and clap

my hands, whereupon she would bring a bowl of sour porridge. She

would pour it gently into my cupped hands. After consuming it I would

walk away without even wiping my hands.”

This revelation was too much for me; standing at my mother’s side, I

started sobbing aloud. Turning to me, Bhagavan asked my mother in a

compassionate tone, “What happened? Why is the boy weeping all of a

sudden?”

My mother replied grimly, “Only last evening Mudaliar Patti was

relating to me the same incident about sour porridge. This fellow

doubted the veracity of the account. Now that Bhagavan himself has

confirmed it in detail, he is feeling the burden of his guilt. Let

him weep by way of ‘prayaschitham’ (atoning penance).”

At the end of the sobbing, I felt relieved and my mind became extremely light.

Fifty years have gone by, but even now as I recollect and relive the

experience, I am overcome with the same sensation of supreme peace.

That is a blessing which goes to prove that Bhagavan Ramana is still

a living presence to all those who have the devotion and diligence to

come into his energy field.

– From The Hindu, 16 April, 2004

- - - - - - - - 1. Bhagavan was called Brahmana Swami soon after arriving in Tiruvannamalai.

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