Below is a beautiful narrative by
Duncan Greenless (one of the earlier pilgrims from the West) setting out his
meetings and experiences with Sri Ramana Maharshi.
For those who wish to read more
about meetings of pilgrims with Sri Ramana Maharshi, there is an excellent
free ebook brought out by the Aham Organisation entitled Ramana Periya Puranam.
The book has been written by V. Ganesan and contains the stories of 75 direct
devotees of Sri Ramana Maharshi.
To download the free ebook in PDF
format, click this link:
Duncan Greenlees
Duncan Greenlees, M.A. (Oxon.), a
scholar and a Theosophist, visited India on a teaching assignment in the 1930s.
The writer who first felt repelled after reading about the greatness of Sri
Ramana in A Search in Secret India by British journalist Brunton says:
"The book struck me somehow as a
piece of journalism of the lower kind. For a few days it almost dissuaded me
from going to Tiruvannamalai. Had the Maharshi stooped to allow this kind of
vulgar advertisement for himself, almost like a
quack doctor seeking testimonials? Of course, I soon threw this foolishness off
my mind, and went to see for myself.
I saw the Maharshi.
It did not take long for me to be sure that I was in front of one who had, in
that very body, solved life’s problem for himself. The radiant peace around him
proved it beyond all cavil. The calm, like that of the midnight sky, was
something too real to question for a moment. The part of my search thus was
over, even at the first glimpse. In a flash I had seen a ‘Master’. I knew he
was what the books call a jivanmukta. Please don’t ask me how I knew for
I cannot answer that. It was just as one knows that water is wet and the sky is
blue. It could not be denied – self-evident is the word.
I had brought the
usual list of questions to be asked. Shyness kept me silent while sitting in
the Hall during those first days. And before I broke that silence, the unspoken
questions had solved themselves in their own irrelevance. It was a common
experience; I only add my own testimony to that of many others. Before I left
that hallowed spot, I did put questions to the Maharshi, which were answered in
a wonderful way that was new to me. I was wholly satisfied and filled with joy.
The four days I had
planned were soon over. But I could not tear myself away before the last date
of the vacation [note: from the educational institution where he was teaching] so
stayed on, delighted, enthralled and pacified. That stillness of eternal depths
had somehow seeped itself into my heart. I had met a Master who could quell the
waves with a silent word, ‘Peace, be still!’ I knew myself to be absolutely one
with that incarnate Peace on the sofa, and therefore to be one equally with the
Unmanifest in whose stillness he was so obviously poised.
God’s grace is such
that He gives at His will what He likes to give to any soul. We cannot earn His
grace, even by crores of years of effort. One can never be worthy of His
blessings, but receives it purely out of His mercy. His darshan can
never be the fruit of sakama tapasya, whatever certain books may say. It
is only the overflowing love of the Lord that brings Him to us.
The peace that
Bhagavan had put upon me remained in my heart, like a shining cloud of
transparency through which all things passed dreamlike for about three weeks. The
mind was caught and held in that peace in a blissfulness it had never known
before. It is a pity I cannot bring about this mood at my own will: it can come
only from the touch of the real Teacher of souls, as I have found.
One day in the Hall
I was browsing a notebook of extracts on yoga. Bhagavan hardly ever spoke to me
first (indeed there was very little actual talking between us during the years;
it did not seem necessary, somehow), but that day he spoke to me in English:
“What is that book?” I answered him. He said quietly, “Read Milarepa”. I read
the book; it thrilled and stirred deep places in my heart. Somehow, I feel
Bhagavan had seen that it would be so and therefore gave me the only order of
the sort he had ever given me.
I have taken all the
descriptions of the jivanmukta I could find in any scripture – Hindu,
Buddhist, Confucian, Christian, Muslim, Jain etc. I have watched Bhagavan under
all kinds of circumstances, and checked up what I have seen with those
descriptions. I have not the smallest doubt that he alone, of the men I have
seen, dwells always in sahaja samadhi. Of course, I am not qualified to
judge, for none but the saint can know the saint. I have seen him in a humorous
mood. I have seen him play the host with delicate grace that seemed almost
awkward at times. I have seen him quickly, motionlessly, challenging and
defeating injustice or unkindness.
I have seen him
cutting vegetables for the Ashramites long before the dawn. I have seen again
and again how he solved the doubts, the agonies, the loss of faith of people of
many types – often with a word, often with his healing silence and a soft
distance in his unmoving gaze. I have looked at his perfect handwriting in many
scripts, all a model of beauty and care. I have heard him correcting the
singers of hymns in his own glory, with an absolute impersonality that was
obvious.
I have watched his
reactions to the noisy devotee, the lazy worker, the mischievous monkey, the
crazed adorer, the over-bold flatterer, the one who would exploit his name. I
have seen how totally impervious he was to all considerations of power, place,
prestige, and how his grace shined equally on prince and peasant. Then, can I
doubt that here indeed we have, if not God Himself – for He is omnipresent – at
least Greatness incarnate, the majesty of the ancient hills blending with the
sweetness of the evening star?
Sit before him, as
we used to sit those summer evenings, and we knew that we were not that foolish
excited little person sitting there, but the eternal Self out of whom this
world has spun its cobweb yarn of forms.
I know no other man
whose mere presence has thus enabled me to make the personality drop down in
the abyss of nothingness, where it belongs. I have found no other human being
who so emanates his grace that it can catch away the ordinary man from his
stillness and plunge him deep in the ecstasy of timeless omnipresent being.
His grace, which of
course is the grace of God whose representative and messenger he is, has been
enough to give brief glimpses even to me of that infinity, wherein he always
seemed to live.
He will brush away
all this nonsense of my talk with a wave of hand and a smile, while saying as
he once did, “It is the same in this and in another place. That bliss you feel
is in the Self, and you superimpose it upon the place or environment in
which you are bodily set.” But, Bhagavan, we say what we like about you and the
blessings we have received from you; we shall not let you interrupt our
foolish words. It is our chance to publicly proclaim our debt to the silent
Teacher of Tiruvannamalai.
Those who are in the
Ashram are very gentle, considerate and kindly. The generous services were
given by a friend who used to translate for me the Tamil answers to my English
questions and got translations approved by Bhagavan himself before giving them
to me. Even the human hospitality of Bhagavan himself, though sometimes a
little embarrassing to my innate shyness perhaps, was always a delightful
thing.
His very presence
among us is a benediction. His attaining a clear and unflickering vision of the
Self has raised the whole world a little nearer to the Truth. His words have
been an unfathomed ocean of comfort and inspiration to thousands. His silent
peacefulness has revealed the Eternal in human form, as mountains, seas and
skies above can usually reveal It."
The following was
written after the Maharshi’s mahanirvana:
"Can we say he is
dead? Bhagavan dead? The word could have no meaning. How can he who lives in
the entire universe ever taste of death? “You think I am going away? But where
am I to go? I shall remain here with you.” That was his promise while he was
preparing us for separation. And those of us who lived in Tiruvannamalai hold
firmly to the faith, which we feel confirmed by continual experience, that he
has kept that promise and is still to be contacted here in the Ashram as of
old.
Like Surdas
darkening the physical sight so that he might see clearly the light within, he
has dimmed our outer sight so that the inner vision might be filled with his
eternal light. He has veiled the outer form we loved so well, that its beauty
might no longer draw our gaze away from the everlasting presence enthroned in
our inmost Heart. His Light shines, with the everlasting clarity of God’s own
Light."
