STORY OF AN IRAQI JEW WHO BECAME A LIFE-LONG DEVOTEE OF SRI RAMANA

[Guest guest]

prof laxmi narain (prof_narain)

 

Source and courtesy: Sri Ramana Kendram, Hyderabad

This article was published in Sri Ramana Jyothi,

monthly magazine of the Kendram.

 

STORY OF AN IRAQI JEW WHO BECAME A LIFE-LONG DEVOTEE OF SRI RAMANA

(Concluding part)

 

S. S. Cohen, an Iraqi Jew, was a qualified accountant. He came to

India in 1927 in search of the key to the mystery of life and worked

in Bombay for a few years before joining the Theosophical Society at

Madras, where he heard of the Maharshi and read some of his books.

This worked as magic and he adopted Sri Ramanasramam as his home in

1936. He died in 1980. He is the author of Guru Ramana, Reflections

on Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, and Residual Reminiscences of

Ramana. He lies buried within Sri Ramanasramam campus, an honour

bestowed on very few devotees.

 

The following is in continuation of the first part which appeared

last month.

 

 

During my leisurely tour in south India, I visited temples and stayed

in holy places for long or short durations, as the spiritual mood

took me. Everywhere I was well received. Wherever I went,

Bhagavan's name acted like a charm, particularly as I had adopted the

Indian dress from the beginning (1936), lived in Brahmin streets, and

ate Brahmin food. I even for the time discarded the wearing of

footwear, bathed in Hindu bathing tanks and attended evening temple

worship with the smearings on my arms and forehead.

During my yatra I used to plunge in reflections on Bhagavan's

blissful silence and calm repose. The stillness of his mind haunted

me everywhere I went. I felt his influence in the depth of my soul

and I cried: " O Bhagavan, how mighty you are and how sublime and all-

pervasive is the immaculate purity of your mind! With what tender

emotions do we, your disciples, think of your incomparable qualities,

your gentleness; your serene, adorable countenance; your cool,

refreshing smiles; the sweetness of the words that come out of your

mouth; the radiance of your all embracing love; your equal vision

towards one and all, even towards stray animals! "

The influence of the Maharshi on genuine seekers, who leave the world

behind and turn pilgrims on the path of the Absolute, is indeed

great; for such aspirants touch a sympathetic chord in his soul,

evoking spiritual responses of great magnitude. A close friend of

mine once related to me his experience when a brief talk with the

Master made him stop his fruitless pursuit of the `occult' and take

to the path of knowledge (jnana). In the words of my friend:

" I was convinced that the Maharshi spoke from direct, valid

experience and I made up my mind to speak alone with him, before the

hall got filled with devotees. It was eight in the morning.

Bhagavan had just entered and had hardly settled in his usual place,

when I drew near his sofa and squatted on the bare floor. Nothing, I

knew, gave greater pleasure to the Maharshi than to listen

attentively to his devotee's spiritual difficulties and give his

advice. This knowledge encouraged me to explain to him slowly and

briefly in clear, simple English the agitations of my mind. After I

finished, he remained pensive for a few seconds and then, in the same

language but with considerable deliberation, said: Yes, you are

right; all preconceptions must go, practice alone will show you where

the truth lies. Apart from the words which he uttered, I was suddenly

gripped by an overwhelming urge to surrender unreservedly to him to

guide me in my spiritual hunger. My fate and all that I was, passed

from that moment into the sacred hands of Bhagavan forever. "

The constant influx of visitors was of some help in that it afforded

the much-needed relaxation to an otherwise tense life. Secondly, the

peculiar problems which visitors brought with them were a useful

study – study of human mind and the endless ills to which it is

subject. The problems of the mind and conditions which give rise to

them are infinitely more numerous than the variety which the physical

universe presents to the human sense. Moreover, watching the

masterly way Bhagavan tackled these problems was sadhana in itself.

Rationality was the very essence of his arguments whilst the ultimate

answer to all the questions was always the same, namely, `Find out

who you are', He first met every questioner on his own ground, and

then slowly steered him round to the source of all problems – the

Self – the realisation of which he held to be the universal panacea.

Psychologists deal only with the working of the mind, but Bhagavan

goes to the source, the Self itself. It was a wonder that all

visitors were agreeably impressed by him, sometimes even without

comprehending the drift of his ideas.

People take siddhis as the sure sign of Perfection, but few

understand the subtle influence of the truly Perfect person, who

without the deliberate use of miracles, works out the transformation

of the people who come into contact with him, more so the genuine

disciples, whom he actually turns into muktas, or well on the way of

mukti, something which external siddhis are totally incapable of.

Many of those who have had the inestimable privilege of a long stay

with Bhagavan bear witness to the blessedness which his mere presence

conferred upon them.

 

The following brief extracts are from Cohen's notes of Bhagavan's

replies to questions in the 1930s and 40s. He says: Bhagavan always

spoke in Tamil, except when the questions were put in Telugu or

Malayalam, when he answered in the same language. The visitors who

knew none of these languages received answers through an interpreter

in English. Although the Maharshi could read and understand English

well, he did not prefer to speak in it.

 

The Real is ever-present, like the screen on which the

cinematographic pictures move. While the picture appears on it, the

screen remains invisible. Stop the picture and the screen will

become clear. All thoughts and events are merely pictures moving on

the screen of Pure Consciousness, which alone is real.

In a cinema-show you can see pictures only in a very dim light or in

darkness. But when all lights are switched on, pictures disappear.

So also in the floodlight of the Supreme atman all objects disappear.

Think of God, attachments will gradually drop away. If you wait till

all desires disappear, before starting your devotion and prayer, you

will have to wait for a very long time indeed.

It is every intelligent man's experience that evil doing recoils on

the doer sooner or later. `Love thy neighbour as thyself ' means

that you should love him, because he is your Self.

Fate is overcome by jnana, Self-knowledge, which is beyond will and

Fate.

That which comes and goes, rises and sets, is born and dies in the

ego. That which always abides, never changes and is devoid of

qualities is the Self.

Pain and pleasure are to the ego, which is itself imagined. When the

ego disappears through a constant enquiry into its nature, the

illusion of pleasure and pain also disappears, and the Self alone

remains.

Habits create the false notion that thinking is a permanent

institution, with which it is impossible to dispense, but enquiry and

discrimination will blast this fallacy. None succeeds without effort

and the successful few owe their victory to perseverance.

We are so accustomed to objectivity that we have lost the knowledge

of ourself simply because the Self cannot be objectified. We are the

Self, yet we ask how to know the Self.

I have never said that there is no need for a guru. All depends on

what you call guru. He need not be in a human form. Dattatreya had

24 gurus. The Upanishads say that none but a guru can take a man out

of the jungle of intellect and sense perceptions. Did I not sing

hymns to Arunachala? Guru is God or the Self. First a man prays to

God to fulfill his desires. A time comes when he will no more pray

for the fulfilment of material desires but for God itself. God

then appears to him in a human or non-human form to guide him to

Himself in answer to his prayer and according to his needs.

Meditation includes mind control, the subtle watchfulness against

intruding thoughts. In the beginning, efforts for control are

greater than for actual meditation, but in due course, meditation

wins and becomes effortless.

 

Heart is the seat of jnanam. It is represented in the physical body

by a hole smaller than the smallest pinpoint, which is always shut.

When the mind drops down in kevala-nirvikalpa [A high level of

samadhi] it opens but shuts again after it. When sahaja [The highest

level of samadhi] is attained it opens for good. The former is like

the mental bucket under the water, which can be pulled out any

moment. The latter is like the river that has linked up with the

ocean from which there is no return.

 

(Source: Face to Face with Sri Ramana Maharshi – Enchanting and

uplifting reminiscences of 160 persons – a forthcoming publication of

our Kendram.)