The Boy and the Sage

[Guest guest]

Harsha,

How unusual to hear of a child of 10 experiencing a moment of spiritual

awakening with a great master. Thank you so much for relating such a

beautiful and moving story.

love,

jerry

[Guest guest]

The author of this article, Sri C. R. Rajamani, presented the following talk

at the April 25th Aradhana program at Arunachla Ashrama in New York City. He

and his wife are visiting their son, Dr. C. R. Ramakrishna, of Stony Brook,

NY.

 

I HAVE been a devotee of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharishi for over 55 years. I

was in my early twenties when I first had His darshan. The event is still

fresh in my memory not because I was at that age so mature, which I was not,

but because of a very remarkable incident I saw on that occasion.

 

I went to the Ashrama in the early forties when the Second World War was at

its peak and our own independence movement was also at its maximum

intensity. I am not certain about the date or the month of my visit; it may

have been December or January. I remember the season was quite cool. The

summit of the Holy Arunachala was shrouded in dense mist and clouds. The

morning air was crisp and pleasant.

 

It was in the original small hall, that is remembered by the early devotees

with justifiable fondness, that I first saw Sri Bhagavan seated on a raised

platform. A cast-iron charcoal brazier was radiating a comfortable warmth,

and a pleasing aroma of the incense thrown into it at regular intervals was

pervading the entire hall. About thirty people, comprised of men, women and

a few young boys were seated on the floor facing Sri Bhagavan. None spoke or

even whispered between themselves. What struck me was, no one showed even an

inclination to talk. Some were meditating with closed eyes. The silence was

definitely not an imposed one.

 

Sri Bhagavan, his body luminous like burnished gold, was sparsely clad in

his usual kaupinam and a small towel across his chest. He appeared to be

occasionally dozing off and had to steady his head often. He frequently

stretched his palms over the fire and massaged his long fingers. In spite of

his apparent dozing, his eyes did not look drowsy. On the contrary, they

were extraordinarily bright and alert. He was not looking at anybody in

particular, nor were his eyes roaming about the hall in idle curiosity.

Although my first impression was not a very uplifting one, I felt I was in

the presence of an extremely affable person with a lot of natural grace, at

perfect ease and without any pretension whatsoever. I was, however, aware of

an effortless peace in the hall.

 

I saw a white-skinned boy, a foreigner, of about ten years sitting a couple

of feet to my left. Next to him was a white man, presumably his father.

Further to my left, beyond the central aisle, was a white woman, whom I

thought was the boy's mother. I then saw Sri Bhagavan's eyes alight on the

boy for a brief minute. I thought it was just a casual look. The boy was all

the time looking at Sri Bhagavan with a sort of fixation, as if on the verge

of asking a question. But, no! He broke into tears. A cascade of tears came

gushing out of his eyes. They were not tears of pain, for his face was

radiant with joy. In temples, I have seen adults shedding tears in ecstasy,

and had myself experienced that type of joyous outpouring on hearing a

beautiful hymn or a moving melody, but I had never seen a ten-year-old boy

from a far-off land exhibiting this type of beautiful expression in an

extremely quiet and serene atmosphere. I could see that Sri Bhagavan's

glance, though only resting on him for a brief moment, had opened in the

boy's heart a veritable reservoir of pure joy.

 

I did not feel a remorse for my lack of receptivity that I ought to have

felt. But I felt most fortunate to see a boy not even half my age showing

such an alert sensitivity. The flat feeling I had experienced earlier was

washed away by the joyous tears of another; I really felt blessed in an

indirect way. Direct or indirect, blessing is blessing. Whenever I recall

this incident, it creates a feeling of being very near to something truly

Divine. Of course, I have had my own share of Sri Bhagavan's grace in my

later years. I have also had some ever-fresh visions which I dare not

devalue as creations of a fevered imagination for they have strengthened my

faith in Sri Bhagavan. Some of them occurred decades after Sri Bhagavan's

Mahanirvana. They have been firm confirmations of his continued Presence and

reassurances of his immortal words, "They say I am going! Where can I go? I

am always here!"

 

Now, returning to that first day at the Ashrama, I learned that the boy had

come along with his parents, both of them Theosophists. The Theosophical

Society's world convention is usually held at their international

headquarters at Adyar, Madras in December-January. Some of the people from

foreign countries choose to visit Sri Ramanasramam at that time. The boy's

parents arranged a trip to Tiruvannamalai, but he stoutly refused to go with

them, as he was not in tune with conditions in India which can never be

adequate when compared with the posh amenities of his native Australia.

However, he changed his mind at the last moment and did make the trip.

Within an hour of his face-to-face meeting with Sri Bhagavan, his mental

barriers were reduced to nothingness. He shed tears for quite some time and

later said to his mother, "I am so happy. I don't want to leave his

presence. I want to be always with him!" His mother was most upset. She

pleaded with Sri Bhagavan, "Swami, please release my son! He is our only

child. We will be miserable without him." Sri Bhagavan smiled at her and

said, "Release him? I am not keeping him tied up. He is a mature soul. A

mere spark has ignited his spiritual fire." So, that casual look was a spark

of tremendous power. Turning to the boy, He said, "Go with your parents. I

will always be with you." He spoke in Tamil throughout, but the boy

understood him fully. He bowed to Sri Bhagavan and reluctantly left with his

parents, immensely rich with the newly-found spiritual treasure.

[Guest guest]

My heartfelt appreciation , for such a beautiful sharing about One so dear

to my heart.

In love,

Jessica

 

-

"Harsha (Dr. Harsh K. Luthar)" <hluthar

" " ;

"NondualitySalon " <NondualitySalon >

Wednesday, June 07, 2000 9:32 AM

The Boy and the Sage

 

> The author of this article, Sri C. R. Rajamani, presented the following

talk

> at the April 25th Aradhana program at Arunachla Ashrama in New York City.

He

> and his wife are visiting their son, Dr. C. R. Ramakrishna, of Stony

Brook,

> NY.

>

> I HAVE been a devotee of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharishi for over 55 years.

I

> was in my early twenties when I first had His darshan. The event is still

> fresh in my memory not because I was at that age so mature, which I was

not,

> but because of a very remarkable incident I saw on that occasion.

>

> I went to the Ashrama in the early forties when the Second World War was

at

> its peak and our own independence movement was also at its maximum

> intensity. I am not certain about the date or the month of my visit; it

may

> have been December or January. I remember the season was quite cool. The

> summit of the Holy Arunachala was shrouded in dense mist and clouds. The

> morning air was crisp and pleasant.

>

> It was in the original small hall, that is remembered by the early

devotees

> with justifiable fondness, that I first saw Sri Bhagavan seated on a

raised

> platform. A cast-iron charcoal brazier was radiating a comfortable warmth,

> and a pleasing aroma of the incense thrown into it at regular intervals

was

> pervading the entire hall. About thirty people, comprised of men, women

and

> a few young boys were seated on the floor facing Sri Bhagavan. None spoke

or

> even whispered between themselves. What struck me was, no one showed even

an

> inclination to talk. Some were meditating with closed eyes. The silence

was

> definitely not an imposed one.

>

> Sri Bhagavan, his body luminous like burnished gold, was sparsely clad in

> his usual kaupinam and a small towel across his chest. He appeared to be

> occasionally dozing off and had to steady his head often. He frequently

> stretched his palms over the fire and massaged his long fingers. In spite

of

> his apparent dozing, his eyes did not look drowsy. On the contrary, they

> were extraordinarily bright and alert. He was not looking at anybody in

> particular, nor were his eyes roaming about the hall in idle curiosity.

> Although my first impression was not a very uplifting one, I felt I was in

> the presence of an extremely affable person with a lot of natural grace,

at

> perfect ease and without any pretension whatsoever. I was, however, aware

of

> an effortless peace in the hall.

>

> I saw a white-skinned boy, a foreigner, of about ten years sitting a

couple

> of feet to my left. Next to him was a white man, presumably his father.

> Further to my left, beyond the central aisle, was a white woman, whom I

> thought was the boy's mother. I then saw Sri Bhagavan's eyes alight on the

> boy for a brief minute. I thought it was just a casual look. The boy was

all

> the time looking at Sri Bhagavan with a sort of fixation, as if on the

verge

> of asking a question. But, no! He broke into tears. A cascade of tears

came

> gushing out of his eyes. They were not tears of pain, for his face was

> radiant with joy. In temples, I have seen adults shedding tears in

ecstasy,

> and had myself experienced that type of joyous outpouring on hearing a

> beautiful hymn or a moving melody, but I had never seen a ten-year-old boy

> from a far-off land exhibiting this type of beautiful expression in an

> extremely quiet and serene atmosphere. I could see that Sri Bhagavan's

> glance, though only resting on him for a brief moment, had opened in the

> boy's heart a veritable reservoir of pure joy.

>

> I did not feel a remorse for my lack of receptivity that I ought to have

> felt. But I felt most fortunate to see a boy not even half my age showing

> such an alert sensitivity. The flat feeling I had experienced earlier was

> washed away by the joyous tears of another; I really felt blessed in an

> indirect way. Direct or indirect, blessing is blessing. Whenever I recall

> this incident, it creates a feeling of being very near to something truly

> Divine. Of course, I have had my own share of Sri Bhagavan's grace in my

> later years. I have also had some ever-fresh visions which I dare not

> devalue as creations of a fevered imagination for they have strengthened

my

> faith in Sri Bhagavan. Some of them occurred decades after Sri Bhagavan's

> Mahanirvana. They have been firm confirmations of his continued Presence

and

> reassurances of his immortal words, "They say I am going! Where can I go?

I

> am always here!"

>

> Now, returning to that first day at the Ashrama, I learned that the boy

had

> come along with his parents, both of them Theosophists. The Theosophical

> Society's world convention is usually held at their international

> headquarters at Adyar, Madras in December-January. Some of the people from

> foreign countries choose to visit Sri Ramanasramam at that time. The boy's

> parents arranged a trip to Tiruvannamalai, but he stoutly refused to go

with

> them, as he was not in tune with conditions in India which can never be

> adequate when compared with the posh amenities of his native Australia.

> However, he changed his mind at the last moment and did make the trip.

> Within an hour of his face-to-face meeting with Sri Bhagavan, his mental

> barriers were reduced to nothingness. He shed tears for quite some time

and

> later said to his mother, "I am so happy. I don't want to leave his

> presence. I want to be always with him!" His mother was most upset. She

> pleaded with Sri Bhagavan, "Swami, please release my son! He is our only

> child. We will be miserable without him." Sri Bhagavan smiled at her and

> said, "Release him? I am not keeping him tied up. He is a mature soul. A

> mere spark has ignited his spiritual fire." So, that casual look was a

spark

> of tremendous power. Turning to the boy, He said, "Go with your parents. I

> will always be with you." He spoke in Tamil throughout, but the boy

> understood him fully. He bowed to Sri Bhagavan and reluctantly left with

his

> parents, immensely rich with the newly-found spiritual treasure.

>

>

> ------

> Vegas, Baby!

> Great deals on airfare, hotels and

> car rentals from Expedia.com!

> http://click./1/5206/7/_/520931/_/960395544/

> ------

>

> //

>

> All paths go somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights,

perceptions, and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and subside

back into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not different than

the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of the nature of Awareness.

Awareness does not come and go but is always Present. It is Home. Home is

where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart to be the Finality of Eternal

Being. A true devotee relishes in the Truth of Self-Knowledge, spontaneously

arising from within into It Self. Welcome all to a.

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