Extracts from 'My Recollections' by Ramana Maharshi Devotee Devaraja Mudaliar

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A.Devaraja Mudaliar had a unique, innate ability to associate with the

Maharshi in an entirely natural manner, while yet maintaining complete faith

and devotion to him. This resulted in an intimate relationship and frank

dialogues on many subjects, including the practical application of the

Maharshi's teachings.

 

The rare devotion Devaraja Mudaliar developed for the Maharshi eventually

compelled him to leave his home and profession and settle down in Sri

Ramanasramam in 1942. His four years of tenancy at the Ashrama secured for

posterity invaluable records in the form of a diary, subsequently published

as Day By Day with Bhagavan. Later, his written reminiscences formed the

book entitled My Recollections, which was the source for the following

article.

 

Devaraja Mudaliar, at the ripe age of 85, was absorbed in his Master in

1972.

 

THE EARLIEST recollection I have of Bhagavan dates back to 1900. Along with

some of my relations, I went to Tiruvannamalai for the Deepam festival. Even

as early as that, the crowds that came for Deepa darshan used to visit our

Bhagavan, then popularly known as Brahmana Swami.

 

I did not visit him again until 1914, two years after I came to Chittoor and

settled down there to practise as a lawyer. Kuppuswami Mudaliar accompanied

me on my visit. We arrived at about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and found

Bhagavan sitting on the parapet wall outside Virupakshi Cave. So far I can

remember there was no one else there at that time. There were only a few

monkeys near Bhagavan, and he started telling me about them, their ways,

their government, kings, queens, etc. I stayed nearly two hours and the

whole time was spent in listening to these stories about monkeys. I was

still a young man and did not take seriously to the spiritual side of life,

so I did not ask Bhagavan for any spiritual guidance. I was satisfied with

having seen him and talked to him.

 

It was made possible for me to visit Bhagavan again about the end of 1922.

By this time Bhagavan's mother had attained Mahasamadhi and Bhagavan had

come to live near the mother's samadhi (grave) at the foot of the hill where

Sri Ramanasramam now stands. There was a small thatched shed housing the

samadhi, where the temple now stands, and to the north of the samadhi was a

narrow pial, or raised floor, on which Bhagavan used to sit or lie down.

 

I told Bhagavan that, though I went to temples like other people, they did

not much appeal to me and asked Bhagavan what he would advise me to do. He

replied: " That does not matter. Think of God as being in your heart and

meditate on God that way. That will be enough. "

 

The end of 1933 saw my first long stay of nearly a week at Bhagavan's feet

and his presence was such a balm to my stricken heart that from that visit

dates my intimate and close association with him.

 

It is said that man's adversity is God's opportunity. Bhagavan proved a

great solace to me when I lost my wife in 1933 (I was then 47). So

naturally, when the next misfortune came, in 1935, I threw myself even more

completely on Bhagavan, going to him as often as possible and basking in his

presence.

 

I lost my job as Government Pleader and Public Prosecutor which I had held

for fifteen years (that is for five successive terms). In my then

circumstances, this was a great misfortune, and it was a serious problem

with me how I was going to make both ends meet after losing a steady,

assured income of about Rs. 6,000 a year to which I had been accustomed for

fifteen years. I mention the gravity of this crisis only to indicate that it

drove me to lean more and more upon Bhagavan.

 

I decided about 1939, that I would give up practice completely in 1941, wind

up my establishment at Chittoor and go and live with Bhagavan at the Ashrama

for the rest of my life. I asked and received permission to build a one-room

cottage inside the Ashrama premises. Such permission was rarely given, in

fact it was given only to two others, namely, Major Chadwick and Yogi

Ramiah. The room was ready for me by June 1940.

 

It was about the end of August 1942, I think, that I went to live at Sri

Ramanasramam as a permanent inmate. However, for some little time more, I

had to go to Chittoor now and then in connection with remaining professional

work or my private affairs.

 

When I had resided in the Ashrama I gradually made a routine to sing for

about half an hour between 10 and 11 in the morning, that is for the last

twenty minutes or half hour between when Bhagavan had finished going through

the second mail and when the gong went for lunch. Bhagavan saw that this was

my line of approach and was doing me good. Therefore he took care, by the

silent working of his grace, that nobody interfered with it.

 

In the early days Bhagavan encouraged me whenever I was singing with deep

feeling. He would have such a look on his face, with his radiant eyes

directed towards me, that I would be held spellbound, and not infrequently,

at some especially moving words in the songs, tears would come and I would

be obliged to stop reciting for one or two minutes. Bhagavan told me that

such weeping is good, quoting from Thiruvachakam: " By crying for You (God),

one can get you. "

 

This seems an appropriate place for referring to another well known

characteristic of Bhagavan. To those who have only a very superficial

knowledge of him or his works, it might seem that he was a cold,

relentlessly logical, unemotional Jnani, far removed from the Bhakta who

melts into tears in contemplation of God's grace and love. But to those who

had any real experience of Bhagavan and his ways, and works, it was clear

that he was as much a Bhakta as a Jnani. Often he has told us that only a

true Bhakta can be a true Jnani and that only a true Jnani can be a true

Bhakta. The complete extinction of the ego is the end attained either in

jnana or bhakti.

 

When touching songs were recited or read out before him, or when he himself

was reading out to us poems or passages from the lives or works of famous

saints, he would be moved to tears and would find it impossible to restrain

them. He would be reading out and explaining some passage and when he came

to a very moving part he would get so choked with emotion that he could not

continue but would lay aside the book.

 

Before taking leave of this topic, I must remark that it was not only any

moving song about God that had this effect on him but anything grand,

magnanimous, noble or generous moved him as few people could be moved. I was

often reminded of the sentence, " The finest minds, like the finest metals,

dissolve the easiest. "

 

Many times I complained to Bhagavan that I was not making any appreciable

progress, bemoaning the persistence of desires. Bhagavan replied making

light of my trouble: " It will all go, all in time. You need not worry. The

more dhyana (meditation) one performs the more will these desires fall off. "

 

On other occasions when I complained that I was not improving, Bhagavan

simply replied, " How do you know? "

 

Bhagavan, from what little I know of him, was not one who believed in

forcing the pace. On the contrary, he gave me the impression that he felt it

was not proper and was not for our real good, that he should interfere and

do violence to our nature or Prakriti by hurrying us at a faster pace than

we are built for, even towards realisation.

 

Once I had planned to carry out something in conjunction with someone else

who was then staying permanently near the Ashrama. Neither at the time, nor

even now according to my lights, was there anything so very objectionable

about what we had planned. But suddenly one afternoon, out of a trivial and

altogether inadequate circumstance, a quarrel arose between us and what we

intended was called off. The next morning I happened to be sitting very near

Bhagavan's couch, at his feet, and Bhagavan, apropos of nothing in

particular and with an expression of love and pity, turned to me and said in

a low voice: " We should not make elaborate plans to get anything. I don't

object to your enjoying what comes your way of its own accord. "

 

Then I knew beyond all doubt that it was Bhagavan who, foreseeing some harm

for me in what I had planned, brought about the sudden and unexpected

quarrel the previous afternoon and aborted our plans. When Bhagavan told me

this, I asked him, " Does that mean that if a thing comes to me without any

planning or working for it and I enjoy it, there will be no bad consequences

from it? "

 

Bhagavan then hastened to add: " It is not so, " and explained: " Every act

must have its consequences. If anything comes your way, by reason of

prarabdha (destiny based on the balance sheet of past lives) you can't help

it. If you take what comes, without any special attachment and without any

desire for more of it or for a repetition of it, it will not harm you by

leading to further births. On the other hand, if you enjoy it with great

attachment and naturally desire for more of it, that is bound to lead to

more and more births. "

 

About work, Bhagavan used to say: " No sort of work is a hindrance on the

spiritual path. It is the notion 'I am the doer' that is the hindrance. If

you get rid of that by enquiring and finding out who is this 'I', then work

will be no hindrance since you will be doing it without the ego sense that

you are the doer and without any attachment to the fruits of your work. Work

will go on even more efficiently than before; but you can always be in your

own, natural, permanent state of peace and bliss. Further, one should not

worry about whether one should engage in work or give it up. If work is what

is ordained for one, one will not escape it, however much one may try. On

the other hand, if no work is ordained for one, one will not obtain work

however much one wishes to strive for it. "

 

One summer afternoon I was sitting opposite Bhagavan in the old hall, with a

fan in my hand and said to him: " I can understand that the outstanding

events in a man's life, such as his country, nationality, family, career or

profession, marriage, death, etc., are all predestined by his karma, but can

it be that all the details of his life, down to the minutest, have already

been determined? Now, for instance, I put this fan that is in my hand down

on the floor here. Can it be that it was already decided that on such and

such a day, at such and a such an hour, I shall move the fan like this and

put it down here? "

 

Bhagavan replied, " Certainly. " He continued: " Whatever this body is to do

and whatever experiences it is to pass through was already decided when it

came into existence. "

 

Thereupon I naturally exclaimed: " What becomes then of man's freedom and

responsibility for his actions? "

 

Bhagavan explained: " The only freedom man has is to strive for and acquire

the jnana which will enable him not to identify himself with the body. The

body will go through the actions rendered inevitable by prarabdha and a man

is free either to identify himself with the body and be attached to the

fruits of its actions, or to be detached from it and be a mere witness of

its activities. "

 

This may not be acceptable to many learned people or philosophers. I recall

in this connection the following lines that Bhagavan once quoted to me from

Thayumanavar on another occasion: " This is not to be taught to all. Even if

we tell them, it will only lead to endless discussion. "

 

It may be well to remind readers that Bhagavan has given his classic answer

to the age-old question " Can free will conquer fate? " as follows in his

Forty Verses: " Such questions worry only those who have not found the source

of both free will and fate. Those who have found this source have left all

such discussions behind. "

 

A lady Principal asked Bhagavan whether it was not better for people to work

and do something for the betterment of the world than to sit in

contemplation, aloof from the world, seeking for their own salvation. This

was not by any means a new question and Bhagavan had given a very clear

answer to it which has already been published in the Maharshi's Gospel. In

brief, it is that one Jnani by his Self-realisation is doing much more for

the world than all social workers put together and that his silence is more

eloquent and effective than the words of orators and writers advocating any

courses for man. On this occasion, however, Bhagavan remained silent. When

the lady found that Bhagavan did not answer, she went on speaking for some

ten minutes. Even then Bhagavan remained silent. The lady and her sister

then left in chagrin.

 

After they had left Bhagavan said to me: " It is no use telling them

anything. The only result would be that it would be published in the papers

that such and such are the views of so and so and there will be endless

dispute. The best thing is to keep quiet. "

 

His view on the attempts, however well intentioned, by idealistic reformers,

whether socialist or communist or whatever label they may wear, to make all

people equally well-placed in life can be epitomized as follows: " There

never was and never will be a time when all are equally happy or rich or

wise or healthy. In fact none of these terms has any meaning except in so

far as the opposite to it exists. But that does not mean that when you come

across anyone who is less happy or more miserable than yourself, you are not

to be moved to compassion or to seek to relieve him as best you can. On the

contrary, you must love all and help all, since only in that way can you

help yourself. When you seek to reduce the suffering of any fellow-man or

fellow-creature, whether your efforts do succeed or not, you are yourself

evolving spiritually thereby, especially if such service is rendered

disinterestedly, not with the egoistic feeling 'I am doing this', but in the

spirit 'God is making me the channel of this service; He is the doer and I

the instrument'. " On two successive days, in answer to questions from

visitors, Bhagavan said in effect what I have summarised above.

 

Most of the time I lived with Bhagavan, I used to feel peaceful and

absolutely free from care. That, as many can testify, was the outstanding

effect of his presence. Nevertheless, it did occasionally happen that

something disturbed the peace and happiness for a while. On one such

occasion I asked Bhagavan: " Why do such interruptions come? Does it mean

that we have ceased to have Bhagavan's grace then? "

 

With what graciousness did Bhagavan reply: " You crazy fellow! The trouble or

want of peace comes only because of grace. "

 

On other occasions also Bhagavan has similarly told me: " You people are glad

and grateful to God when things you regard as good come to you. That is

right, but you should be equally grateful when things you regard as bad come

to you. That is where you fail. "

 

Here I must say the only method I have adopted to achieve liberation or

Self-realisation is simply to throw myself on Bhagavan, to surrender to him

as completely as lies in my power, and to leave everything else to him. And

Bhagavan's teaching, the last I ever got from him before he attained

Mahasamadhi, was just this: " Your business is simply to surrender and leave

everything to me. If one really surrenders completely, there is no room for

him to complain that the Guru has not done this or that. "

 

To me and a number of other devotees of Bhagavan, he was God and all in all.

We felt as Saint Arunagirinathar felt when he declared to Lord Muruga:

 

" I rely on none except you and will follow none except you. " I have often

sung this song before Bhagavan, altering the last two lines in such a way

that they would refer to Bhagavan, instead of to Muruga. But about

whomsoever we sang, whichever temple we visited, or whatever image we

worshipped our homage always went to Bhagavan.

 

--

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