Final Part - The Recollections of Ramana Maharshi Devotee N. Balaram Reddy

[Guest guest]

The Maharshi was available to all. The management may have put limits on

length of stays in the ashram, but anyone could live outside the ashram and

daily come and visit the Maharshi. The women devotees did that. Since no

women were allowed in the ashram at night, they all had to leave after the

evening meals.

 

One day about 7 P.M., when it had already turned dark, an indiscreet

incident between a man and woman occurred. When Bhagavan came to know of it,

he said that the woman devotees should be fed their evening meal by 6:30

P.M. and then sent home.

 

In Bhagavan's Hall

 

Once T. M. P. Mahadevan had just returned from a trip to the West. He

delivered lectures wherever he went and a number of those lectures were

about Bhagavan and his teachings. A few of the resident devotees wanted to

hear an example of how he lectured on Bhagavan. He offered to give one right

then and there. But before he could do this, permission had to be taken from

the office. Without undue delay it was given. T. M. P. Mahadevan then gave a

lecture. Except for this lecture I don't ever remember anyone giving a

lecture in the hall, although there were those whose very questions were the

equivalent of a lecture. Usually, such visitors wanted to show off their

knowledge.

 

There was one Daivarata, a devotee of Bhagavan who had been living in the

north for some years and who had just returned to the ashram for a visit

after a long absence. Among other things, he was known for his enthusiastic

kirtan and dancing. He used to do it in earlier years before the Maharshi

and while doing pradakshina of Arunachala. Some of the devotees expressed a

desire to see him perform. It was arranged in the dining hall. Bhagavan sat

where he usually did at mealtime and we all sat in rows. Daivarata began

singing and dancing up and down the rows with great enthusiasm. He also sang

Ganapati Muni's " Chatvarimsat " in his own melody, dancing with the tune.

 

The attendants used to spread various sheets over Bhagavan's couch, changing

them frequently. Occasionally they would place a tiger's skin on the couch

and Bhagavan would sit on that too, just like it was any other sheet. Once I

was sitting near the end of Bhagavan's couch facing him. That day a tiger's

skin had been spread on the sofa and the head of the tiger was hanging over

the armrest and, seemingly, staring straight at me.

 

Chadwick was also sitting in the hall at the west end. He would usually

follow a punctual schedule and at exactly 7 P.M. he rose to leave. On his

way out he walked up behind me and whispered in my ear, " Do you see? There

is Chinnaswami, the ashram tiger, staring straight at you. " We both chuckled

at the joke. When Chadwick went out, Bhagavan asked me what Chadwick had

said to me. When I repeated it, Bhagavan enjoyed the humor and we both

laughed.

 

Gandhians and Service

 

On one occasion, a prominent leader for the advancement of the lower classes

came on a visit. She asked Bhagavan a number of questions concerning her

work and ideals. Bhagavan simply listened and remained silent. The lady

left. Shortly after her visit, an article written by this lady was found in

a Madras newspaper. She wrote that she had discussed all her plans with

Bhagavan and he agreed with them. When Bhagavan saw this, he commented, " What

can I do? Even if I am silent, such statements are printed in the

newspapers. "

 

Adi Shankaracharya writes that karma yoga is useful for purifying the mind.

But the purified mind has to be harnessed to some technique of spiritual

practice. Only then will the sadhana be effective. Bhagavan has said that

only a true jnani can be a true karma yogi. It is not that doing good works

and giving to others is wrong. But only a jnani knows that there are no

others; there is only the Self. Who is to give to whom?

 

Bhagavan's whole life was simply an offering to the world. Everything he did

was for others only. The scriptures say that a jnani has no will of his own

and whatever he does is prompted by Ishwara, or God.Bhagavan knew that

social service could temporarily relieve suffering to some extent. He also

knew that the same person who was helped, would some day come to grief

again, not only later in this life but in life after life. To remove all

suffering, to completely extinguish the cause of all suffering, the Maharshi

was born. He wanted to liberate us from the mistaken belief that we are this

frail body, mind and ego. To do this he gave the method of Self-Enquiry,

showed us how to practice it and effectively aided seekers by his powerful

presence and grace.

 

But even with all that he taught us, there were many who came to him, stayed

for some time and then went astray. Such was the case with the pious

attendant of Bhagavan, Madhava.

 

He worked in the ashram for about ten years, mostly serving Bhagavan as a

personal attendant. At one point he seemed to have become restless, or

perhaps he felt that he required rest somewhere away from the ashram. At

this juncture, he came to me one day and asked if I could help him with the

travel fare to Yogi Ramaih's ashram in Andhra Pradesh.

 

Up to this point Madhava was considered a model devotee. Everyone praised

his virtues of steadiness, devotion and service to Bhagavan. So I was a

little surprised when he told me he desired to leave the ashram. I asked him

what Bhagavan and Chinnaswami said about his plans. He told me that they

both approved of them. Later I discovered it was not so. Bhagavan had

recommended that he simply cease working for some time, take his meals in

the ashram and rest, free from all responsibilities. Apparently he did not

heed Bhagavan's advice and as a result had to suffer.

 

Madhava left the ashram as planned, but returned after a short time. His job

as one of Bhagavan's attendants had already been given to someone else.

Consequently, he had nothing to do when he returned and I would often see

him sitting in Bhagavan's hall. His restlessness persisted and it wasn't

long before he left the ashram again. When he returned a second time he was

wearing ochre robes, which means he must have been initiated into sannyas by

some swami during his travels. Yet he was still unsettled and he went away

again. Then, all of a sudden, we heard he had died in Kumbhakonam under

strange circumstances.

 

It is not altogether uncommon for aspirants to deviate from the prescribed

path after coming to Bhagavan. It is only those who persist to the end with

their spiritual practice, devotion and faith that succeed. Of course,

Bhagavan's helping hand is always there for those sincere sadhakas who

strive and reach out for it.

 

Once the Sarvadhikari asked me to set my alarm so I could wake up at 2 A.M.

It was discovered that Bhagavan was rising at this time every night and

walking to the latrine near the goshala. The attendants were sleeping right

through this and, of course, Bhagavan probably took special care not to

disturb their sleep when he rose. When the Sarvadhikari discovered what was

happening he became concerned that if Bhagavan should fall, or some other

mishap should occur, there would be no one to help him.

 

So at 2. A.M. I awoke and walked over and stood near Bhagavan, who was then

reclining on the couch outside on the verandah. When Bhagavan saw me

standing there he quietly slipped off the couch and walked to the latrine

with the aid of a flashlight. I followed. No words passed between us. There

is no doubt that Bhagavan understood why I was there and who requested me to

come at this hour of night, yet everything transpired in silence.

 

On such occasions, when silence prevailed, we would assume that Bhagavan

approved or was pleased. When he was displeased, we could easily know, for

he did not hesitate to correct us. In this way, we were always on our guard

and alert to his will.

 

One day I received a letter from my family informing me that they were

traveling to Thirupati. They requested me to leave the ashram and meet them

there. When Bhagavan was returning from his walk and was near the well, I

mentioned the details of this letter to him. He made no reply. Now, how

could I just leave? Normally he would indicate his approval of the plan by

asking questions or commenting, and in some manner make it clear to me that

it was all right to go ahead. In this instance he said nothing and just kept

walking.

 

The very next day I received another letter from my family informing me that

the trip was cancelled. How can we explain this? Is it a siddhi, a miracle,

or what? Everything happened naturally in Bhagavan's presence, and he was

always so unassuming.

 

IT WAS IN FEBRUARY of 1949 that a small growth was noticed just below the

elbow on Bhagavan’s left arm. When it was first noticed it looked similar to

the size, color and shape of a black gram (pigeon pea).

 

The Maharshi was vigilantly watched and attended to twenty-four hours a day.

Therefore, any irregularity in his health was closely scrutinized by his

cadre of devoted attendants. But how and why the tumor began where it did

cannot be established with any certainty.

 

When it was first noticed by the attendants, Dr. Shankar Rao, a retired

district surgeon who was then serving as the ashram doctor, was summoned to

examine it. Dr. Srinivasa Rao, another devotee living near the ashram, was

also called. After consultation these two doctors decided that surgical

removal of the small growth should be performed. Without much fanfare, and

without the use of an anesthetic, the growth was removed. Perhaps everyone

thought that this minor nuisance was now eliminated. The doctors did not

realize then that they were tampering with a fatal type of cancer called

sarcoma.

 

In March of 1949, the wound from the surgery seemed to be healing

satisfactorily when another growth, a little higher up the arm, appeared.

Dr. Raghavachari, an eminent surgeon from Madras, came to the ashram with

all his instruments and removed the new growth on March 27. A local

anesthetic was used. About a month after this surgery, when the doctors

realized that the tumor was sarcoma cancer, radium treatments began. Also,

in May, herbs prescribed by an ayurvedic physician were applied to the

wound. During all these treatments Bhagavan’s health was slowly

deteriorating.

 

Bhagavan moved into the New Hall, which is connected to the Mother’s Temple.

What is now called the Nirvana Room had been built near the New Hall for

Bhagavan to rest between darshan periods. A bathroom was also built onto the

Nirvana Room, alleviating the strain he experienced by walking all the way

to the latrine near the goshala. After his final surgery in December of

1949, the Nirvana Room became his full-time residence.

 

As time passed, Bhagavan was becoming increasingly weaker. Sometimes after

getting up from the couch he would shake violently and everyone feared he

would fall. At such alarming times, Bhagavan would make a light comment,

such as, " Oh! Look at me. I am dancing. " In this manner, he would soothe the

anguish of his devotees. Never would he take his illness or weakness

seriously, even though most of us did.

 

Once the doctors were about to cut some tissues from the tumor so that

testing could be done on them. When they were about to inject a local

anesthetic to dull the pain, Bhagavan refused itand told the doctors to

simply cut and take what they wanted. The doctors protested, explaining to

Bhagavan that the pain would be severe without the use of the injection. But

Bhagavan again refused and told them just to do it. They cut into the tumor

and Bhagavan winced in pain. The doctors said, Bhagavan, we told you it

would be painful.

 

Bhagavan replied, " Yes, the body experienced pain. But am I the body? "

 

There was a large team of physicians attending to Bhagavan’s needs during

this surgery and throughout his illness. When so many specialists came to

certain conclusions about his illness and took up procedures, surgical or

otherwise, to cure him, Bhagavan normally went along with the treatment. But

when the tumor appeared again after the third surgery, and the doctors

concluded that only by amputating the entire arm would there be any hope of

a cure, Bhagavan flatly rejected the option.

 

On the evening of December 19th, I was one among a group of devotees

standing north of the Nirvana Room waiting to hear news about Bhagavan’s

condition. The fourth and final operation had been executed on that day,

once again in the dispensary.

 

Doraiswamy Iyer, who had been influential in bringing together prominent

physicians for the two major surgeries on Bhagavan, came to where we were

standing and informed us about his condition. " Whether or not the surgery

was successful, can be determined only after three months, " he said.

Bhagavan remained in the dispensary for eighteen days recovering from the

operation. Then around midnight, he shifted to the Nirvana Room.

 

When Bhagavan was in the last stages of his illness he insisted on giving

darshan twice a day. A reclining chair was placed in the small passage in

front of the Nirvana Room. He would repose there facing west towards the

verandah of the Mother’s Temple, and the devotees would sit or stand on the

verandah silently looking at him, or sit meditating with closed eyes. Those

devotees who were permitted to have a bedside meeting with him would come

around from east of the Nirvana Room and enter. At this time, because of the

severity of his illness, the Sarvadhikari rarely gave permission for

separate meetings with Bhagavan.

 

In February of 1950, a new cancerous growth appeared. Many devotees began to

lose all hope that his life would be spared. On the other hand, there were

others that resolutely declared that Bhagavan would never die from this

disease, as if it was inadmissible that a sage like Bhagavan could succumb

to a common mortal affliction.

 

One day I received a message from the office that I should accompany the

doctors to Bhagavan’s room when they go again to clean his wound and change

his bandages. I do not know why I was asked to do this. Perhaps Bhagavan

didn’t see me at darshan time and inquired about me, or possibly for some

other reason the Sarvadhikari felt I should go to Bhagavan in his room.

 

When I walked into the Nirvana Room Bhagavan simply rested his benevolent

gaze on me and said nothing. Then he slowly stretched out his left arm and

the doctors began their work. The bandage was drenched with blood; the wound

was large and pitiful to look at; the pain must have been extreme. Bhagavan

calmly turned his head to the side and the doctors went about their

business. I was amazed to observe his total detachment. It seemed to me that

he looked on this painful affair as if it was happening to a body other than

his own. I can never forget that sight. Bhagavan always told us that he was

not the body. During his last days, in the midst of tremendous suffering, he

demonstrated it.

 

Bhagavan’s tumor had grown to the size of a cauliflower, blood was oozing

between the buds and his whole arm was blackened. A doctor friend, who was

experienced in all aspects relating to this type of cancer, told me that the

pain associated with it at this stage of Bhagavan’s illness would be similar

to the suffering experienced if a fully-loaded lorry ran over your arm.

 

Doctors also decided that Bhagavan should be allowed to eat whatever food he

desired. Throughout the course of his treatments, each discipline of

medicine he was under had certain dietary restrictions. Often Bhagavan was

required to consume items he would not ordinarily eat, or prefer to eat. But

in spite of the doctors’ decision about his diet, Bhagavan was not allowed

to eat the iddlies and chilly powder he requested during the last month of

his life.

 

Out of all the doctors attending on Bhagavan, it was only the allopathic

doctors that didn’t boast they could cure Bhagavan. The doctors from other

disciplines would confidently announce that Bhagavan could be cured. Of

course, during the final stages of his illness, when all hope was lost,

there was little boasting. All the different systems of medicine, all the

best doctors and surgeons and all of the latest medical treatments and

technologies failed.Throughout it all, Bhagavan remained what he always was:

a spectator in this world drama, ever reveling in the Self.

 

On April 14th, a bulletin was released to the news service from the office,

stating that Bhagavan was no longer giving darshan.By broadcasting this

information the management thought the pressing throng of devotees would

disperse. When this news reached Bhagavan, he immediately ordered the

Sarvadhikari to withdraw the bulletin. In no way would he discontinue giving

darshan. Even on this last day, when Bhagavan was in the throes of death, he

insisted on giving darshan as usual between the hours of 5 and 6 p.m. He

demanded that the devotees should not be prevented from seeing him.

 

After the Mahasamadhi

 

ON APRIL 16, the day after Bhagavan’s body was buried, I gathered all my

belongings and left on the noon train for Madras. At that time, I didn’t

know when, or if, I would be returning to the ashram. Many prominent

devotees also began leaving Tiruvannamalai. Everybody was selling off their

properties, the ashram’s income dramatically fell and the Mauni, Srinivasa

Rao, was scheming to seize control of the ashram; even before Bhagavan’s

demise he was scheming.

 

After one year, I again returned to the ashram to attend Bhagavan’s aradhana

celebration. The ashram was struggling to stay afloat financially. I

remember Chinnaswami informing me that the ashram would be unable to serve

me breakfast and I should go to town and eat.

 

Sources:

 

1) http://www.arunachala.org/newsletters/1996/?pg=may-jun

2) http://www.arunachala.org/newsletters/1996/?pg=jul-aug

3) http://www.arunachala.org/newsletters/1996/?pg=sep-oct

 

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