The Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi I Knew By Krishna Bhikshu

[Guest guest]

Krishna Bhikshu was a man of insatiable curiosity, keen intellect,

enthusiasm and energy. He was a precocious youth whose early studies created

a distaste for religious literature. This lasted until he came under the

powerful influence of Ganapati Muni, who brought him to the Maharshi in

1929. He was enchanted by the holy presence of the sage, but still wandered

about for some years exploring the different spiritual traditions and

teachers of the time. As the result of his wide study and long practice,

Krishna Bhikshu became convinced of the truths taught and lived by Sri

Ramana Maharshi and surrendered to him whole-heartedly.

 

He authored several important works in Telugu, one being Sri Ramana Leela,

the most comprehensive biography of the Maharshi. Amidst the chanting of

Arunachala Siva, Krishna Bhikshu breathed his last on December 30, 1981.

 

OUR FAMILY was in some way or other always associated with religion and

spiritual searching. Brahmarsi Chivukula Venkata Sastri, the husband of my

paternal aunt, had asked some of the questions recorded in the Ramana Gita.

When I was a child I often used to go to his house and there I saw for the

first time the photo of Bhagavan Ramana and read Ramana Gita and other early

brochures.

 

I went to Arunachala for the first time with Sri Rami Reddi. We had our food

in the town and then went to the Ashrama. In those days there was very

little there - a hut for Bhagavan and another over his mother's samadhi

(place of burial). Bhagavan had just finished his food and was washing his

hands. He looked at us intently. " Did you have your food? " He asked. " Yes,

we had it in town. " " You could have had it here, " he replied.

 

I stayed with him for three days. He made a great impression on me. I

considered him to be a real Mahatma, although his ways were very simple.

Most of the cooking was done by him in those days. The Ashrama lived from

hand to mouth and usually only rice and vegetable soup were prepared. When I

was about to leave, I asked Bhagavan: " Bhagavan, kindly show me a good

path. " " What are you doing now? " he asked. " When I am in the right mood, I

sing the songs of Tyagaraja and I recite the holy Gayatri. I was also doing

some pranayama but these breathing exercises have upset my health. " " You had

better stop them. But never give up the Advaita Dristhi (non dual vision). "

At that time I could not understand his words.

 

I went to Benares for a month, returned to Pondicherry and spent five months

there. Wherever I would go people would find some fault or other with me:

" You are too weak, not fit for yoga, you do not know how to concentrate, you

cannot hold your breath, you are unable to fast, you need too much sleep,

you cannot keep vigils, you must surrender all your property . . . " Only

Bhagavan asked for nothing, found fault with nothing. As a matter of truth,

there was nothing in me that entitled me to his grace. But it did not matter

with Bhagavan. He wanted me, not my goodness. It was enough to tell him " I

am yours " , and for him to do the rest. In that way he was unsurpassed. The

strange people he gathered around him! But those who gave themselves to him

and trusted him and did his bidding were overwhelmed by his immense

solicitude and kindness.

 

In 1930 I visited Ramanasramam for the second time, and stayed a month. Our

life was very simple at that time. I would get up early each morning, have

my bath near the well at Palitirtham, prepare sacramental food on a small

stove and start worshipping the Lingam over Bhagavan's mother's samadhi.

Chinnaswami helped in the chanting. Bhagavan would make himself generally

useful. He would talk quite freely with us every night after food. They

would ply him with questions on philosophy and metaphysics. In the evening

he would sit on a wooden cot near the well and gaze at Arunachala in deep

silence. His face would glow with an inner radiance which would appear to

increase with the deepening darkness. We were sitting all around him, either

silently, or singing some song. Alamelamma would sometimes sing from

Tiruppughazh. The silence and peace at those hours was quite remarkable.

 

At night after dinner all the inmates of the Ashrama would collect around

Bhagavan, and then he was our own, telling stories, answering questions,

dispelling doubts, laughing and joking. We never knew how late it was until

Madhavaswami would go behind Bhagavan's back and give us signs that it was

time to allow Bhagavan some rest.

 

B. V. Narasimhaswami took up in those days the task of writing a book on

Bhagavan's life and was collecting materials for his work from devotees. The

first draft of the book was ready and the author gave it to me to read. The

idea came to me that a similar book should be written in Telugu. I got

Bhagavan's permission and, using Narasimhaswami's manuscript for an outline,

got the Telugu version written within a month.

 

After that, whenever there was some court holiday and I had enough money for

a railway ticket, I would come down to Ramanasramam. Everybody, including

Bhagavan, used to say: " Krishnayya has come, " and there was always a warm

welcome for me.

 

I asked him once: " You told me to repeat the Gayatri. It is too long. Also,

I am expected to know its meaning and to meditate on it.'' " Who asked you to

bother about the meaning and all that? I have only asked you to see who is

repeating the Gayatri, or who is the japi, " was his kind reply.

 

On the other hand he did not limit his teaching to the one question " Who am

I ? " He invariably adjusted his advice to the needs of the devotee. He would

say: " Sooner or later the question 'Who am I?' will have to be faced. All

that leads to this question is good. By itself nothing else is fully

effective, for Self-knowledge comes only through self-enquiry. But other

methods purify the mind and help it to see its own limits. When the mind

comes to the end of its resources and stands baffled before the unanswerable

question, then a Higher Power takes charge of the mind and the Self stands

revealed, the Real, the Wonderful. "

 

Once an old woman came to the Ashrama. She always carried with her a framed

picture of Bhagavan Narayana and she would worship it on every occasion.

 

She asked Bhagavan whether she was right in doing so. Bhagavan replied:

 

" Without name and form, on what is one to concentrate? What you are doing

with your heart and soul is just right for you. "

 

One night there were only one or two persons in the hall. Madhavaswami was

massaging Bhagavan's legs. A gentleman from Kakinada asked Bhagavan's

permission to massage his legs. Bhagavan did not reply. The man repeated his

request, saying: " At home I am daily praying to Bhagavan and now I have a

chance to serve him. " Suddenly Bhagavan thundered: " You had all the chances

of serving me at home. Why did you come here? " The man became quite

frightened and could not speak. Thus Bhagavan taught us not to make a show

of our devotion.

 

Nobody could guess about the way Bhagavan would meet people. The high and

mighty of the land would not get even a blank look, while some insignificant

looking wanderer would become the object of his concentrated attention for

hours and days. On the other hand eminent people would sometimes be taken up

by him and given the immense blessing of being the centre of his interest.

Once Pranavananda Swami came to the Ashrama. He was utterly exhausted. He

sat on the steps of the temple and could not move any further. Bhagavan was

told about it. He came out at once, sat at the feet of Pranavananda Swami

and started rubbing his legs, saying: " You had a long way to walk, Grandpa.

Your legs must be paining you very much. " The old swami protested in vain;

Bhagavan had his way and massaged the swami's feet.

 

At food time Bhagavan would ask to be served very little and he would

carefully clear the plate of the last grain of food before getting up.

Although he never asked us to do the same, I asked him: " If we clear our

dining leaves so scrupulously, the dogs, cats, monkeys, rats and the ants

will starve. " Bhagavan answered: " Well, if you are so compassionate, why not

feed the animals before taking food yourselves? Do you think they relish

your scrappings? "

 

Once a visitor said: " I have been coming to you, Swami, many times, hoping

that something will happen and I shall be changed. So far I do not see any

change in me. I am as I was: a weakling of a man, an inveterate sinner. " And

he started weeping piteously. " On this road there are no milestones, "

replied Bhagavan. " How can you know which direction you are going ? Why

don't you do what the first-class railway passenger does? He tells the guard

his destination, locks the doors and goes to sleep. The rest is done by the

guard, If you could trust your guru as much as you trust the railway guard,

it would be quite enough to make you reach your destination. Your business

is to shut the door and windows and sleep. The guard will wake you up at

your destination. "

 

One Rama Rao, an advocate in Nellore, was requested many times by his

friends to come with them to Ramanasramam. Invariably he would answer: " I

shall go when Bhagavan calls me.'' Once when he was praying Bhagavan

appeared to him and asked: " Why have you not come? " Rama Rao immediately

left for Tiruvannamalai. Before reaching the Ashrama he had a dream in which

a unique Chakra (symbolic drawing) appeared before him. He told the dream to

Bhagavan, described the Chakra and asked who could help him in having one

drawn correctly. Bhagavan gave him all the necessary information. When the

Chakra was ready, Bhagavan examined it carefully and gave it to Rama Rao,

telling him to use it in his worship.

 

A widow arrived one day, entered the Hall and bowed to Bhagavan. He looked

at her closely and started laughing. " Oh, it is you.'' he said. The woman

got confused, covered her face with her white widow's sari and hid herself

in a corner. Bhagavan continued with a broad smile: " When I was a boy her

people were our neighbours and she was their little girl. It was agreed

between our parents that she would be my wife in due course. I was very fond

of helping my mother in the kitchen and her mother used to grumble that she

would never marry her daughter to a fellow who likes to spend his day near

the stove, like a woman. Anyhow I was not fated to marry. But had I married

her, what would have been my fate! " Everybody had a good laugh at Bhagavan's

narrow escape.

 

Once I said to Bhagavan: " Bhagavan, formerly, whenever I thought of you,

your form would appear before my eyes. But now it does not happen. What am I

to do? " " You can remember my name and repeat it. Name is superior to form.

But in the course of time even the name will disappear. Till then repeat the

name, " advised Bhagavan.

 

An inmate of the Ashrama who had been serving Bhagavan for many years

started visiting a certain woman in the town. Her relatives came to know of

it and decided to catch and kill the man. One night they caught him at her

house, bound him hand and foot and locked him up in a room, postponing the

cutting of his throat until they had found a safe way of disposing of the

body. Our man managed to escape and came running to the Ashrama, pursued by

his enemies. When he entered the gate they gave up the chase. He entered the

Hall trembling and fell on the ground shouting: " Save me, save me.''

Bhagavan ordered the doors to be shut and said: " Don't fear, tell me what

happened. " After having been told everything, he looked at the culprit with

understanding and pity and said reassuringly: " Don't fear any more. Go and

sleep. " From the next day the man was at his work and Bhagavan would not

mention the matter at all. Everybody in the town came to know what happened.

The Ashrama people requested Bhagavan to send the man away, for his presence

would tarnish the good name of the Ashrama. Bhagavan called the man and told

him in front of everybody: " You have done some wrong, but you were too

foolish to keep it secret. Others do worse things, but they take care not to

be caught. Now, the people who were not caught want you to leave the Ashrama

because you were caught. They will make your life miserable. You had better

stay outside for some time, until things settle down. " The man stayed with

some devotees outside the Ashrama and came back after a few months.

 

When people would complain to Bhagavan about some mischief or other done in

the Ashrama, Bhagavan would say: " I have not come here to punish people. If

I start punishing people, even a black crow would not remain in this place.

People come here, each with his own purpose, and each may find his purpose

fulfilled. Why don't you take care of your own purpose? Why do you pay

attention to what others do? "

 

On some other occasion Bhagavan remarked about some of the visitors: " On

their first visit to the Ashrama they seem to be all right; on their second

visit they discover that the Ashrama is not properly run; on their third

visit they start giving advice; on the fourth they know best how to run the

place; on the fifth they discover that the management is not responsive and

they are very displeased; on the sixth they suggest that the present staff

should walk out, leaving the Ashrama to them. Finally they become

disheartened and blame me for what I have never done. " After all it is

perfectly true that Bhagavan neither started nor organized the Ashrama. It

was all done by others who just did what they thought right.

 

When Bhagavan was still on the hill, a postcard came in which the sender

wrote: " I am a poor elementary school teacher. My mother is old and my

salary is so small that I cannot look after her properly. Kindly see that I

get a raise. " Bhagavan laughed and said: " Well, why not? " Another card came

after some time in which he wrote: " By your grace my salary was increased.

Now there is a vacancy in a higher grade. If I am given that grade, I shall

earn more and make my mother very happy. " Bhagavan had a good laugh and

said: " Good. " Again after some days, another card: " My mother is bedridden

and there is nobody to nurse her. If I could get married, my wife would look

after her. But I am a poor man. Who will give me his daughter in marriage?

And where shall I get the money for expenses? Bhagavan may kindly arrange. "

Bhagavan laughed and said: " Well, let it be so. " After some months another

postcard came: " By your kindness I was married quite easily. My wife is

already with me. My mother wants a grandchild before she dies. Please

provide. " Why not? " said Bhagavan. After some months another card: " My wife

gave birth to a child, but she has no milk for it. I cannot afford milk for

the baby. Please get me a promotion. " Then another card: " I got a promotion

and an increment. The child is doing well. I owe everything to your

kindness. " Bhagavan remarked: " What have I done? It is his good karma that

all goes well with him. " After some days another card: " Mother died. She

worshiped you before her death. " Well, " said Bhagavan. After a month,

another card: " Swami, my child has died. " " Sorry, " said Bhagavan. Another

month had passed and a card came saying: " My wife is pregnant again. " Then

another card: " My wife gave birth to a child. Both died. " " Ram, Ram,'' said

Bhagavan. " Everything seems to be over. " Then another card: " Due to family

trouble my work was very irregular and I was dismissed. I am completely

destitute now.'' Bhagavan said, heaving a deep sigh: " All that came has

gone; only his Self remained with him. It is always like this. When all

goes, only the Self remains. "

 

-- The preceding was taken from " The Bhagavan I Knew " in the Ramana Smriti

Souvenir.

 

Source: http://www.arunachala.org/newsletters/1992/?pg=nov-dec

 

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