THE SILENCE OF THE SAGE – RAMANA MAHARISHI
“Who is that,” I asked my father, pointing at a
photograph in the puja shelf, one among many there. What attracted my attention
was that out of all the pantheon of Hindu God pictures in the shelf this was
all too human – that of an old man with benign eyes and a graceful smile. The
photograph had been there always but this was the first time I was drawn to
notice it. I was a boy ten years old. The puja shelf was filled with images
of various Gods. At that age, I could relate to most of them from the stories
told me by my parents and the numerous temples which we visited and offered
prayers. It didn’t matter there were so many of them, after all, they were our
guardians and they were our Gods.
“That is Bhagwan Ramana Maharishi,” my father replied.
“What is a Maharishi?” I asked
“He is someone who is full of wisdom,” my father replied.
“Is he a God also?” I asked.
“Some believe him to be so, but that does not matter. He
is a Sage who lived in Tiruvannamalai. Now his ashram is situated where he
lived at the foothills of the sacred Arunachala hill,” my father replied.
At that age, I did not have further questions to ask, for I
assumed since he was in the Puja shelf, he was also a God. Ever since Ramana
Maharishi became a constant figure in my metaphysical meditations. As the years
passed, I came to know
more and more of him from the various books written about him and his
philosophy.
More than the
books about him what had an everlasting impact on my mind was the photograph
and the eyes that spoke so much, that words were not necessary to commune with
him. I remember I was so fixated with the glow in his eyes that I ended up sketching
a portrait of him, and the minute I finished, I felt he had looked deep into my
soul. That moment brought a satisfaction I had never felt before, after finishing a sketch or a painting. I felt fulfilled.
The constant
refrain in Maharishi’s path to Self-Realization is contemplating on the
question ‘Who am I’ and turning inwards to find the answer. The first few lines
in my book ‘I am just An Ordinary Man’ express my dilemma and feelings of inadequacy
in trying to answer this - “Sir, you asked me who I am. What shall I say? I
have been asking myself this question for quite some time and reached nowhere.
After all, I am no saint to throw away everything that I have and go in search
of an answer. If I had, I would have been a saint. Don’t you agree?
It is always
enlightening to read the experiences of aliens to our culture. People who have
come to sincerely understand our philosophy, culture, religion, and the secrets
that define who we as a people are. Their views and findings are bound to be more
authentic and critical when they come with an open mind freed of the prejudices
that had been painted in their minds of a country of snake charmers, faqueers,
fake magicians, and fake godmen who hold sway over a gullible population There
have been many who have written on Eastern Philosophy which has been more
academic than experiential. Our own accounts are bound to be influenced by the
familiarity with the secrets of the land we have been born in.
Of all the
books I have read about Ramana Maharishi, two stand out – ‘A Search in Secret
India’ by Paul Brunton and a number of books by Arthur Osborne on the Teachings
of Ramana Maharishi. Both of whom stayed back to be in the close proximity of
Ramana Maharishi, since they found in him the Great Master.
‘Remote from
the haunts of men, deep in the jungles to which- or to the Himalayas- the
holiest men in India always return, Mr. Brunton found the very embodiment of
all that India holds most sacred, The Maharishi- The Great Sage- was the man
who made the most appeal to Mr. Brunton.’ From the foreword to the book.
From the book
‘A Search in Secret India’ in Paul Brunton’s own words-
‘I can say
only that in India I found my faith restored. Not so long ago I was among those
who regard God as a hallucination of human fancy, spiritual truth as a mere
nebula, and providential justice as a confection for infantile idealists. I,
too, was somewhat impatient of those who construct theological paradises and then
who confidently show you round with an air of being God’s estate agents. I had
nothing but contempt for what seemed to be the futile, fanatical efforts, uncritical theorizers.’
‘This faith
was restored in the only way a skeptic could have it restored, not by argument, but by the witness of an overwhelming experience. And it was a jungle sage, an
unassuming hermit who had formerly lived for six years in a mountain cave, who
promoted this vital change in my thinking.’
Nothing
describes ‘The Silence of the Sage’ then Brunton’s first interaction with the
Maharishi-
‘There is
something in this man, which holds my attention as steel filings are held by a
magnet. I cannot turn my gaze away from him. My initial bewilderment, my
perplexity at being totally ignored, slowly fade away as this strange
fascination begins to grip me more firmly. But it is not till the second hour
of the uncommon scene that I become aware of a silent, resistless change that
is taking place within my mind. One by one, the questions which I have prepared
with such meticulous accuracy drop away. For it does not now seem to matter
whether they are asked or not, and it does not seem to matter whether I solve
the problems which have hitherto troubled me. I only know that a steady river of
quietness seems to be flowing near, that a great peace is penetrating the inner
reaches of my being, and that my thought-tortured brain is beginning to arrive
at some rest.’
I have chosen
to talk about Paul Brunton because his is a fascinating search through the
length and breadth of our country to find the real master through this
labyrinth of holy men, some self-styled and some genuine, who could guide him
in understanding Yoga and the purpose and meaning of life. His meeting with the
Paramacharya of Kanchi himself a great sage, is the turning point in this
search, for it is he who directs him to meet Ramana Maharishi. When Brunton
asks him where he can find the real master, Paramacharya tells him –
“He lives in
the interior, farther south. I visited him once and know him to be a high
master. I recommend that you go to him. He is called the Maharishi. His abode
is on Arunachala, the Mountain of the Holy Beacon. Promise me that you will not
leave South India before you have met him.”
After meeting
Ramana Maharishi for the first time Brunton continues his travels throughout
the country and ultimately returns to the abode of the Maharishi for in him, he
is convinced he has found the true master.
“Again and
again, I become conscious that he is drawing my mind into his own atmosphere
during these periods of quiet repose. And it is at such times that one begins
to understand why the silences of this man are more significant than his
utterances. His quiet unhurried poise veils a dynamic attainment, which can
powerfully affect a person without the medium of audible speech or visible
action.”
Since I Paul Brunton’s words have struck a chord and deep inside me, something stirs when I look
at the picture of this great sage. The eyes say so much, so much compassion and
so much silence. This silence speaks directly to the soul.
I have been to
Tiruvannamalai years ago. I have had the opportunity of experiencing the
silence and stillness in the hall where once the Maharishi sat gazing into
infinity at the same time looking into the soul of every person assembled there
just to be in his presence. The Arunachala hill stands behind, as silent and
still as the Maharishi, a beacon lighting up the darkness in our lives.
