The Recollections of N. Balaram Reddy Part 2

August 18, 2008

THE MAHARSHI

March / April 1995Vol. 5 – No. 2

Produced & Edited byDennis HartelDr. Anil K. Sharma

The Recollections of N. Balaram Reddy

N. Balaram Reddy's First Meeting with the Maharshi

ON A SUNNY SOUTH INDIAN morning in the month of March in 1933 I first walked into Sri Ramanasramam.

It was just before breakfast and I was immediately welcomed and lead into the dining room.

Of course, the dining hall wasn't the large structure we see now, but a single-room thatched building just south of the Old Hall, which also served, by turns, as the kitchen, office and the Maharshi's bathroom.

I was asked to sit behind a certain leaf plate. Other visitors and inmates were seating themselves, some behind a wall panel (the brahmins) and others near me.

To my surprise, I found myself seated immediately next to the Maharshi, on his right.

I felt blessed and fortunate to be given this seat and looked on the whole scene, wondering at the intimacy and informality of it all.

But what I felt most, amidst the quiet and orderly movements of the ashramites, was the penetrating silence of the atmosphere.

A deep penetrating silence seemed to be pushing my mind deeper and deeper into my inner being.

The food was served and the Maharshi turned his head to the right and nodded - a gesture indicating that we should begin eating.

That nod, or gesture, had the effect of prompting my mind to sink even deeper into silence.

Meals finished, I went and sat in the hall and waited for the Maharshi to return. He generally went out for walks after rising early in the morning, after his noon meal, and at 5 p.m.

I had read and heard from others that he rarely put questions to visitors. Therefore, I was not disappointed when he returned to the hall, sat and remained silent.

I also did not feel like asking questions or breaking the silence with words.

At 11 a.m. I was called for lunch. Once more I witnessed the same intimacy, informality, quiet orderliness and the nod from the Maharshi to begin eating.

After lunch I once again returned to the hall. About 1 p.m. an old and long-standing devotee of Maharshi arrived at the ashrama from some distant place. He walked into the Old Hall, saluted the Master and lay down on the floor near Bhagavan's couch. Within moments he fell sound asleep.

I sat wondering: "This Maharshi is accessible at all hours; his presence evokes a deep inner stillness; everything is so serene, natural and informal."

I concluded that there was something here clearly unique.

At 5 p.m. I had to leave to catch the train back to Pondicherry. I stood up and approached the Maharshi to take leave. He asked me where I had come from. I told him and, since he had on his own began talking with me, inquired of him if I could ask a couple of questions. "Yes, of course," he said.

Now, after the passing of sixty years, I can recall only one of the two questions I first asked him. I said,

"There is a teacher and his disciples. The teacher gives the same instruction to all the disciples sitting before him. How is it that some disciples hear the teachings, put them into practice and make fast progress, while others hear and apply the same teachings and make little or no progress?"

The Maharshi replied: "Some must have followed that line of teaching in their previous lives, while others may have just begun. Also, some are born more advanced and fit than others."

That was my first visit to the Maharshi in 1933 when I was 24 ½-years-old, and although that visit made a deep impression on me, I didn't arrange to go back until two years later.

I now believe that during those two years the Maharshi's force was silently working on me from within, without my being aware of it.

Bhagavan, as we usually called the Maharshi, often quoted this stanza of Saint Thayumanavar's in praise of the Guru:

"Oh Lord! Coming with me all along the births, never abandoning me and finally rescuing me!"

I find this stanza truly reflects the way I feel about Bhagavan.

to be continued