Guru Ramana - Memories & Notes, S.S. Cohen, #11

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IV

YATRA – PILGRIMAGE

 

"I thought of Thee and was caught in Thy Grace;And like a spider in Thy web didst Thou Keepme captive to swallow me in Thine own hour."

(Aksharamanamala of Sri Maharshi)

 

The builders had put the finishing touches to my small

mud hut in Palakottu garden on April 4, 1936, and althoughits walls and lime plaster were still wet, I decided to enter itthe very next day.

Palakottu is a large garden of about ten acres in area

granted by the Government over eighty years ago to a Vira-Shaiva community for the purpose of growing flowers in itfor the big Arunachaleswara temple in the township ofTiruvannamalai. It lies on the Western boundaries ofRamanashram, and has a clean and well-preserved deep tankseasonally fed by the rain water, which falls down the slopesof the sacred Arunachala hill, apart from two or three naturalsprings in its bottom. Around the huge, century-old trees ofthis garden, devotees of Sri Ramana Bhagavan since manyyears had built their small kutirs, where at different timeslived Paul Brunton, Yogi Ramiah, Sri B.V. Narasimhaswami,the author of “Self-realisation,” Sri Muruganar Swami, theTamil poet who filled a bulky tome of songs in praise of SriBhagavan, and many others, and where some sadhakas stilllive.

 

In Palakottu, then the only inhabited place within a mileradius from the Ashram, I chose for my hut a lonely site to

the north-west of the tank, edging the shady foot-path overwhich Sri Bhagavan used to take his midday walk, so thatduring its construction he could see the daily progress of thework and sometimes exchange a few words with the masons,till the 4th of April, when I informed him of my intention tostart living immediately in it.

 

Sri Bhagavan had known of my chronic asthma, and

probably thought it foolhardy on my part to live in a placewhich would take two to three months to dry up. I noticedhis hesitation in uttering his usual “yes”; but, being hard-pressed for accommodation, and very reluctant to leave himeven for a day, I completed my arrangements for the warmingceremony, known here as griha-pravesham, to take place thenext day.

On the fifth of April the invited devotees gathered in

my hut, and about noon the Master himself strolled in, onhis way back from his usual walk, and, refusing the specialchair I had made ready for him, he squatted like the otherson the mat-covered floor. After the ceremony Bhagavan left.

I followed him from a distance, waited till the devotees clearedaway and approached him. “Bhagavan,” I started, “you havegiven a home for my body, I now need your Grace to grantthe eternal home for my soul, for which I broke all my humanties and came.” He stopped in the shade of a tree, gazed silentlyon the calm water of the tank for a few seconds and replied:"Your firm conviction brought you here; where is the roomfor doubt?" Where is the room for doubt indeed! I reflected.

 

Three years rolled by, and the Master continued to pass

daily by my hut. In the beginning he used to take shelterfrom the midday sun on my verandah for two or threeminutes, during which I made myself scarce, in order not toinconvenience him, till one day I foolishly placed a chair for

his use on the sly, which made him once for all boycott myverandah. Despite his full knowledge of our adoration of him,he was extremely sensitive to the slightest trouble which mightensue from him to us, or, for the matter of that, to anyone:thus placing a special chair for him, or expecting him everyday at a fixed hour, he interpreted as interfering with my rest- hence the boycott.

 

Three years, I said, had passed since that griha - pravesham

day, years of great soul-searching, of incessant attempts topenetrate the Master's mind, of reflection, study, meditation,and what not; years of extreme efforts to adjust myself to theentirely new conditions of life, of physical and psychical strain.They were admittedly intense years, in fact so intense, that Ithen felt that I must quit immediately, and informed theMaster accordingly.

"Bhagavan," I said on a day then near my hut, "I feel a

strong urge to go on a yatra (pilgrimage) to the South -

Chidambaram, Srirangam, Rameshwaram ...," but lo! a lookon Bhagavan's face struck me forcibly with the thought "Yatra!what for? Are you still in doubt?" I instantly remembered hiswords of long ago: "Where is the room for doubt?" and, as ifin reply to a verbal question from him, I continued: "No,Bhagavan, now I feel that I need a change for some months,which I intend spending in Hindu holy places." He smiledapproval and enquired about the date and time of my starting,and whether I had made arrangements for my stay in thevarious places I was to visit. Extremely touched by hissolicitude, I answered that I was going as a sadhu, trusting tochance for accommodation.

For three months thereafter I lay on a mat in Cape

Comorin, immensely relieved of the mental tension whichthe Master's physical form had caused me. In solitude I

plunged in reflections on his blissful silence and calm repose.The stillness of his mind haunted me everywhere I went - inthe beautiful, gem-like temple of the youthful Virgin Goddess,on the shores of the vast blue ocean around me and the sanddunes, in the fishing villages and the endless stretches ofcoconut groves, which ran along the seashore and the interiorof the Cape. I felt his influence in the depths of my soul andcried: "O Bhagavan, how mighty you are and how sublimeand all-pervasive is the immaculate purity of your mind! Withwhat tender emotions do we, your disciples, think of yourincomparable qualities, your gentleness; your serene, adorablecountenance; your cool, refreshing smiles; the sweetness ofthe words that come out of your mouth; the radiance of yourall-embracing love; your equal vision towards one and all,even towards diseased stray animals!"