a POEM on the Death experience of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi

ॐ OAM NAMO BHAGAVATE SRI RAMANAYA ॐ

On a hot afternoon in Madurai
A 16-year –old boy in his room
On the table a pile of books and
Unfinished homework. Outside, the sun
An incandescent fury in the sky.
Heat-luminescent streets, dusty and vacant,
Coil around the temple and slither
Through the summer-shrivelled town.
Leaves wear dust to screen out the sun.
Fat flies drone in the drowsy doorways.
The 16-year-old boy in his study
Torn between mastering English verbs
And puzzling over an arithmetical sum
Looks anxiously out the window and stops.
 frosty touch benumbs his heart, his breathing dims.
A bullock cart lurches through the street. Death –
An uncanny presence steals over him.
Unfazed he decides to play the part.
He lies down on the floor, arms stiff by his side,
Tries to stop his breath. He stalks death,
Seizes it, scans it, sifts through it,
And discards it. He knows. His boyish frame
Shudders as the power outward bound,
That arrays in splendent hypnotic hues
This multiformed multinamed enchantment
Which beguiles and captivates bemused wordlings,

Stops, its onward surge arrested, dashes back
And plunges inward and down into heart’s cavern –
The source that exists past flesh, past mind,
Past world, past gods, past everything, past nothing.

As the presumptuous bubble of ego collapses
Body mind space time causes conditions
Vanish. Only a tiny waverless flame,
Awareness – pure, poised, ever-present
Remains. An equanimous witness
Of the mundane drama of high passion,
Of the birth and death of gods, demons and men,
The launch of political movements,
Bitter strife over oppression and freedom,
Of the ascent and decline of fathers and fuhrers.


Nothing stirs. The house is quiet as usual.
Nothing stops. The world is as usual busy.
In the grocery shop at the local market
A somnolent trader dully waves a cloth
To chase away flies sporting on a bed of jaggery.
Outside in the shade of a gnarled neem
An astrologer sleeps, his blind parrot
Surveys the sky and pecks at fortune cards.

The globe on its axis has turned but a few degrees
But the boy in the room is a boy no more.
Infinity has clapped her wings around him,
School, family, home, parents and friends
Are but dying echoes of a grama’s tale.
The world is a remote happening, a mere rumour.
Ignorance-bearing knot dissolves, light spreads,
Awake he sheds his radiance on a thousand suns,
Worlds are awash with grace of his glance.


Upon the still center his eyes have gazed,
Gazing upon it, he has turned still.
When he looks, silence looks through him.
When he walks, an immobility moves.
Dakshinamurthy for the age of trains and telegrams,
At the foot of Arunachala Ramana sits
A beggar scattering in the wind of munificence,
Healing aggrieved hearts with a mere look,
Sharing with them the peace only jnanis know,
Guiding the lost on the surest path back home,
Inspiring stutterers to rapturous poety,
Bringing solace to a widow in her bleask hovel
And order to spiraling galaxies.

 ON RAMANA MAHARSHI
By MUKESH VATSYAYANA
Mountain Path
Advent issue July-Sept 2005
Printed pages 65-66

SEEKING BHAGAVAN by Swamy TATVABODHANANDA

Extracts from
SEEKING BHAGAVAN
Swamy TATVABODHANANDA
Sri Ramakrishna Math [Udyan Bati], Kolkata
Mountain Path January – March 2009 issue Pps 29 – 36

I went to Ramanashraman early 1944. It happened all of a sudden after a person called Ayyappa from Ponnampet told me about the Maharshi who was known as Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharsh. On hearing about him I was wonderstuck.

All of a sudden, even though I was studying in the ninth form, at a boarding school at Coorg, I made up my mind to leave everything, go to Ramana Maharshi and take sannyasa. Then you know what I did? That same evening I went to meet my cousin’s brother. He was the Speaker of the Legislative Assembly. I went to his home and told his wife that I needed one hundred rupees, which was a huge amount in those days. However, my father had left instructions that as he was often away on estate business, if I needed money they were to give it to me. So, without any questions, I was simply gioven the money.

Next morning I met my school friends. We were a regular group who used to save our pocket money and school fees for special purposes.  I asked them to give me my portion of savings. When they enquired why I wanted it, I said “ I wont tell you now.  You will come to know of it later”.  I took away my money which was sixty rupees.

With 160 rupees, the next day I packed a small suitcase and set off secretly before dawn, making for Rasmanashramam, intending to take sannyasa and remain there. The idea just came to me suddenly. Outside, our gate was locked so I pushed the suitcase through, climbed over and proceeded about one kilometer to the bus stand. It was a long wait till the bus came at 6.30am, so I was able to have some tiffin and got the first seat together with another man. He asked me where I was going.  I said “Ramana Maharshi Ashrama”. He asked me why I was going there. I told him openly, “To take sannyasa. Since yesterday I have been depressed and have had no peace of mind”.  He was astonished to hear it

After reaching Mysore, he said, “ It is noon; come, we will have lunch,” and after we ate he paid for the food.  Until then I had never accepted money from anybody. It was a question of prestige for me, for I was the son of an important person so why should I take money from others? That was my thinking.  Then he persisted, telling me not to worry.  When I said I would take it later he kept quiet.  Then I requested him as a favour to find me lodging in Bangalore. He agreed and took me to a hotel.  There, a boy and girl came to receive him, and took me to their house as well.  I said to my friend,” This is not a lodge!” But he said, there was no need just for a day”.  Next day he asked me whether I had seen Bangalore, to which he said “No”. He sent me sight-seeing with that boy and girl who took me in a car and showed me everything, but I missed my train.  Next day, I purchased a ticket to Ramana Maharshi Ashram, i.e., to Tiruvannamalai.   I had to travel by broad gauge and then meter guage and the boy warned me not to fall asleep and forget to change at Katpadi, from where I was to go stright to Tiruvannamalai.

When I reached Tiruvannamalai it was 8.30pm.  Inside the Ashram gates was standing one Niranjanananda Swami, the brother of Ramana Maharshi.  He who was called the Sarvadhikari.  The tonga man came down and announced me, as he seemed to be well acquainted with the ashram.  Then what I did was to approach and talk to him.  I knew Tamil, Malayalam and Tulu because all these languages were spoken in our coffee estate.  I spoke to him in English.

Naturally he waked me,” Where are you from?”

“I am from Coorg”

“What are you?”

“I am a student”

"Then you are studying!”

“Yes”

“Have you taken permission from your authorities?  Have you informed your parents?’

I spoke the truth “No”. He understood everything.

“You have come all the way from Coorg!”

He seemed to have sympathy for me. Just a boy! A small boy! But he did not know I had come there to become a sadhu.

“You can stay here for three days only. Only three days.”

“I have come here to become a sadhu and reside here.  I intend asking Ramana Maharsh himself,” I said.

I was then given a room.  In that room there was amat and pillow.  That’s all. What I had expected was something different.  From Ceylon was sleeping there.  I was to be his room mate.

Next day, I did not know how to wear a dhoti as we used to wear trousers and jackets at our boarding school.  Everyone sitting in he hall was wearing dhoti but I wore gabardine pants with a silk shirt inserted.  Ramana Maharshi had come into the hall where many people had already assembled, ladies on one side and men on the other.  A tall person called Chadwick found it difficult to sit cross-legged so he had a belt around his legs.  I straight away went very close to Ramana Maharshi and sat there although there was a barrier in front of him.  I looked at Ramana Maharshi – he was looking at me intently. I did not speak but sat like this for a long time and then, I don’t know why, I started weeping! Tears were flowing spontaneously.   My silk shirt and pants became soaked.   He continued look steadily staring at me.   His head was shaking ver slightly. He was sitting cross legged and wearing only a white loin-cloth, nothing else.   Looking at him, I continued weeping without making any sound. Everybody was looking at me and wondering why this boy was crying. I felt shamefully embarrassed.   I looked around t see what everybody else was doing.   Some were looking at Ramana Maharshi.   Some were meditating.  Then what I did was, I too closed my eyes and started meditating.  I did not know even the meaning of meditation.  I was just a boy you know.   I simply sat and closed my eyes to meditate.  I am telling the truth.   That day while sitting before him—Oh! What an inexplicable state of mind I had!   I was not aware of anything at all But my state was not the state of sleep.   I was I was simply sitting quietly and did not notice that all had got up and left.   Then suddenly some one woke me up.   I was the last person there.   I went back to my room and washed my face. I had to change.   My silk shirt was wet, but I changed only my pants as I had nothing else to wear.   I had pajamas, but it would have been disrespectful to wear them and sit before Ramana Maharshi.

I entered the dining hall.  There was a place close to Ramana Maharshi reserved for a Mouni Sadhu but how was I to know that? I went and sat there.  There was a leaf plate.

Ramana Maharshi…. What happened next was very interesting.  They had served rice to him. He took a little of it and placed it in my hand.  I started eating.  I ate sumptuously and washed my hands and went back to my room.

After some time a note came to me from the office. Niranjanananda Swami the sarvadhikari had sent it. He had written detailed instructions how I should go to katpadi and catch the train coming from madras to go to Bangalore. I went to office and saw him.

” I want to speak to Ramana Maharshi”.

“What do you want to say to him? Give it in writing,”

“No. I won’t give it in writing. I want to have a talk with him”

I spoke to him like that.

He was sitting quietly and doing some office work.  I too sat quietly for a long time.  Then I asked, “Why, will you not give me permission?” he seemed to be thinking “……An innocent boy….knows nothing…. What could he talk about?”   Then he called someone and asked him to take me to the hall.   When I entered the hall, Ramana Maharshi was sitting with a smiling face and his legs dangling down.   I approached him, did pranam touching his feet and sat before him courageously – with a blank mind.   I am a dare devil you know; but I could think of nothing to say!   I had no mind to tell him that I had come here to take sannyasa and become a sadhu and all that.   What I did was simply to sit quietly.   The man who had accompanied me gently told me “pesungo, and pesungo”[ talk, talk].   But I was quiet. Then Ramana Maharshi himself talked to me:

“Nee saadhu aagapore. samayam varudu.Nee ippo pogalam”

[The time is approaching when you will become a sadhu. Now you may go.]

Just two sentences.  Just as if I had received his permission,  I stood up.  After he had spoken, I did not say anything more, but went to straight to the office and offered thirty rupees as a donation.   In those days it was a big amount but I had it with me.  I also bought two books – Who am I? and a biography of Ramana Maharshi, and also a photo of him. Then I left.

I was reading his biography sitting in the train and discovered that he too, like me had left home with the school fees. When I learnt this I wondered why I also could not become a saint like Ramana Maharshi. Obviously, to become a sadhu, I had to wear a dhoti; so I bought a dhoti – a khaddar chaddar. I had the banian or vest and I imagined that there would be a cave on the hill in which to sit and meditate.

After arriving at Mysore I decided not to carry my baggage any longer but rather to give away my expensive clothes to the beggars. “ What is this?” they asked. “ Why are you giving away all your clothes?”  They thought that I had gone mad. I said ‘ These are my own clothes so what is the problem for you to receive them?”  By then many people had gathered around me and I thought there was going to be trouble so I got onto the bus.  The bus driver and conductor who had been watching me thought I must be son of a celebrity. They gott me some milk, biscuits and plantains.  “ Please take them; it is going to be a long journey”. They said.  That was al the food I had the whole day. In my younger days I would not skip even a single meal.  When I reached Madikerimy porter Rasool was there. Then I what I did………. In spite of having given aways some clothes my suitcase was still half full, so I took out the khaddar dhoti, the two books and the photo, packed them to take with me and sent the suitcase through the porter to the guest house and then I walked away.

It was evening.  As I was walking for about an hour and a half it began to get dark.  I removed the clothes I was wearing and put on the chaddar, then I walked further four miles. On the right was dense forest.  On the left were cultivated fields with people working in them. I left all my clothes on the road. I had some money so I left that too and also my watch ---- everything for someone to pick up.  I pushed myself into the dense forest. There I sat under a big tree.  The sky was clear….no rain….there was breeze and murmuring sound of leaves. No animals…  But I was afraid of snakes which may appear suddenly. It took courage for I knew God is everywhere.  He is omniscient and present even in minute particles. I am sitting for God’s sake.  Nothing will happen to me, and so I kept up my courage, but I could not sit through the whole night.  After about two three hours I would get cramps and have to stand up for a while and so, in this way, the whole night was Shivaratri to me. I could not sleep at all.

After daybreak, I resumed walking. I had not eaten anything except the plantains given to me by the driver. When I had the money I did not eat.  Now I was feeling acute hunger and I had had no sleep as well. With the Sun getting warmer I was getting sleepy.  Very bad! What to do?  There was an orange garden.  In Coorg orange trees are more prevalent than coffee, so what I did was, seeing a watchman in the orange garden, I shouted at him, “Kaaka, Kaaka”[ Uncle in Malayalam].  He came closer and seeing me wearing a dhoti he thought I too was a Malayali. He asked” What is the matter?”  I told him,” Look , I have not eaten anything since yesterday and am very hungry. Please give some fruits, at least the fallen ones.”  It was a big orchard with many fallen fruits. Hegathered some oranges and gave them to me.  I took them in my chaddar, got down to the road, sat down under a tree and ate until my stomach was full. Got sleepy…. Slept there for about three hours. After I woke up, I resumed walking.

As I walked on, thought of home haunted me.  Father and mother must be worrying. Mother must be crying. Mother must be worrying.  Then what I did….. I remembered that Ramana Maharshi had written a letter to his mother.  In the same way I too wrote a letter…. In the same style: “in search of my father…etc.”   I had no paper so I got some from the wayside tea shop.  I wrote the letter and also made an envelope using cooked rice as gum. I wrote my father’s address, but had no stamp, so I wrote on the envelope “ Please affix a stamp and post this letter”. Nearby there was a posh bungalow. I paced the letter on a pillar of he gate and put a stone over it to avoid it being blown away.  The window of the house could be seen through the gate and while I was walking away a tall man came from the house to the gate and too the letter.  Seeing that letter without stamps and seeing my father’s address on it, he opened the letter and read it as he was related to us. Then he went back and came in his car but even as he passed by me he did not recognize me. He too must have thought I was a Malayali.   Not a boy of Kodagu. He went to my home, and found that I was missing.   And that it had been advertised in all Kodagu language newspapers. My parents, seeing my letter were hopeful that I must be somewhere nearby and would soon be found.

In the meanwhile, a classmate of mine passing in a bus had recognized me as I was walking along the road, in spite of my changed dress. He shouted, ” he is the missing boy! Catch hold of him” hearing this people on the road caught hold of me.  Among them was Kalappa, the managing Director of Coorg Transport Company.  He took me to his house. There was an Alsatian dog there. Pointing to it he said,  ‘ If you try to run away, he will catch you. Once, when my son-in-law came to visit it bit even him”.  He told me this frighten me. That whole day I had a sound sleep in his house.

The next day he took me in his car to my home.  My father was sitting majestically, staring at me.  My mother seeing me in ochre chaddar [cloth] started crying.  As she knew that one day the one who choose the ochre cloth is lost forever to the family, for her own brother had become a sannyasi and joined the Sri RamaKrishna order.  I consoled my mother telling her that I would abide by her advice.

http://www.arunachala-ramana.org/forum/index.php?topic=2835.0

Swamy Viswananda -Salutations to the Holy feet of Sri Ramana, : Extracts from:

Extracts from:

Salutations to the Holy feet of Sri Ramana

- Swamy Viswananda

By then I had read more writings of the Maharshi but could not understand them as their perspective was so much greater than my mind had the capacity to absorb. I read them again and again and slowly and eventually was able to understand more. All of a sudden I decided I should see the Maharshi. First finding out how to reach the distant Tiruvannamalai I set out by train to Villupuram and then another train in which I found myself at Thiruvannamalai. Next I hired a tongawala [ horse-cart] which dropped me at Ramanashramam, surprising me that the driver took only two annas fare. Walking into the ashram I saw so many people sitting around a swamy seated on a couch in the hall. All but the swamy looked at me. He was gazing through a window out into the sky. He was not looking at anyone. I gave him my pranam and took a seat before him, and soon to my great astonishment, my mind had become deeply calm and serene. The swamy did not even seem to know that I had come. I became intensely introspective and realised for perhaps the first time how shallow my life was. I was a young boy of 20 years old.

Though I gazed at Bhagvan for a long time he never looked at me. As a sensitive young boy I was disconcerted that, having come all this way, he did not even make an effort to acknowledge me. I was not recognized as a living being by him and this troubled me. I sat there for an hour until 11 p.m. Then a tall swami in ochre robes came into the room and for a moment I thought he must be the swami as everyone paid him respect, so I also did namaskar. But having seen in a book the photo of Maharshi who was, now I understood, sitting on the sofa, he could not be who I was seeking. Suddenly he then saw me as if he was looking at himself and as if I was not myself, but himself. Strangely I felt he had established himself in me yet I was not established in him though he was in my heart. Yes, that was my first impression of Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi.

I came often to the Ashram during my stay of five or six days and was extraordinarily happy. More than that, when I entered the dining hall I had the previlage of the Maharshi sitting along with us when we ate. I hail from Shankaraparampara and had gone to Sringeri Shankara math to receive darshan of the Shankaracharya, but the experience was not the same. Sri Ramana Maharshi was sitting in the midst of the dining hall and accepting to eat whatever was served to him, looking equally with us and accepting us as if we were his kith and kin. It had a great impact on me. Here was a real way of life observing SAMADHARMA. Whatever doubts I had had in my heart was satisfied with this very look of Bhagavan. From that day onwards I saw no divisions of good, nor bad, nor evil or otherwise. I began to realize increasingly that all inequalities in life are the creations of our minds. I also realized that Bhagavan was deeply caring for me even though he seemed not to look at me.

Though Bhagavan had not studied Sanskrit, even Ganapati Sastri was in awe of his excellent Sanskrit verses which shows Bhagavan was SARVAJNA [ omniscient].

Niranjananada Swamy did not like my staying in the ashram for long periods. But nobody could be stopped from going to Bhagavan’s presence. I never went to the kitchen without the Swami’s permission. Once Shankara Rao, a banker, some other person and me were walking into the dining hall, Sarvadikari stopped me for whatever reason. Once on a special occasion I was serving in the kitchen. When someone said something rotten against the Sarvadikari I went and hit him. This came to Bhagavan’s notice and he told me in a stern voice, “ You have not come here to hit anybody”. I shivered out of fear of Bhagavan, who so  directly and fearlessly attacked the egoism of my resentment.

Recently, in kerala I was giving a talk on Bhagavan Ramana and his philosophy. In the audience one person declared that the man in the photo, i.e.Bhagavan had appeared before him. Bhagavan is inside of us and also everywhere and what we have to do is to put ourselves in tune so that the current can pass through us like the breeze of a fan. That is my philosophy and nothing else. From the day I met Bhagavan I had not violated his words though I moved with papa Ramdas, Anandamayi Ma and the Shankaracharya, in particular, H.H. Chandrashekara Bharathi who knew that I was on the right path.

Bhagavan Ramana is Dhakshinamurti to me. While taking food in the plate, a number of items are there but really, it is mainly rice and sambar. We should concentrate on what is essential and not be distracted by the unnecessary. Though it is difficult to describe the Brahman in words, it is in my experience that Bhagavan has removed my AVARANA [covering or body of Ignorance]. As Lord Krishna said, to leave everything and surrender to him – it is Bhagavan whom is the only refuge to me.

http://www.sriramanamaharshi.org/videosflv/video12.html

Mountain Path July-September 2009 printed pages 28, 29, 32, 34

“ Is the chutney asking for idlies?”

OAM NAMO BHAGAVATE SRI RAMANAYA

One morning at about 4 am I was summoned to the kitchen. To my surprise, when I entered the kitchen veranda I saw Sri Bhagavan in his loin cloth sitting near the chutney grinding stone. A few other people were also sitting nearby. I began to grind the coconut scrapings and he helped me by pushing in the overflowing ingredients. At the same time, he was busy putting salt, chillies and other ingredients in the chutney to make it tasty. When the grinding was over he placed all the contents in a vessel. Then he went into the kitchen and prepared the seasoning in a big spoon with oil and dry chillies. When it was boiling he brought it from the kitchen to the veranda where the chutney was being prepared. Then he began pouring the seasoning over the chutney and mixed it well.

A Sweet Little Joke
When the chutney was ready Bhagavan distributed a little among the four or five people who were sitting there. The he lifted his face up and from above dropped a bit of the chutney into his mouth without his finger touching his mouth (This healthy principle of not contaminating food prepared in the kitchen with one’s saliva is followed even now in India among Hindu families) . As the devotees tasted the chutney, Sri Bhagavan asked them how they liked it. Out of reverence they all kept quiet to signify approval. Then Sri bhagavan smiled and quipped in Tamil, “ Is the chutney asking for idlies?” Everyone enjoyed the joke and smiled. The group of ashramites then dispersed and the chutney was taken to the kitchen to be served with idlies when the morning visitors arrived.
Service at the Vegetable Cutting Room
Bhagavan next entered the vegetable cutting room where a kitchen assistant was cutting vegetables for the lunch that was to be served to the ashramites and visiting devotees. Bhagavan began assisting there also. He sat cross-legged and cut up all the vegetables with utmost attention. I noticed that almost all the vegetable pieces he cut were exactly the same size. From this I learnt the lesson that whatever action one performs should be done with attentiveness and energy, for every job is a worship of the Lord.
from: Mountain Path October-December 2009 issue Printed page 26
Article: " With Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi "
by Swamy DAMODARANANDA,
resident swami at the Ramakrishna Mission,
Vedanta Centre of Perth, Western Australia.

About the Search

♥ॐ♥ OAM NAMO BHAGAVATE SRI RAMANAYA ♥ॐ♥

The Necklace

A visitor said to Ramana Maharshi that
she understood things only intellectually.
This was his reply:

"You are already That. Time and space cannot affect the Self.
They are in you; so also all that you see around you are in you.
There is a story to illustrate this point:

A lady had a precious necklace around her neck.

Once in her excitement she forgot it and thought that the necklace was lost. She became anxious and looked for it in her home but could not find it. She asked her friends and neighbors if they knew anything about the necklace. They did not. At last a kind friend of hers told her to take her hand to her neck and feel the necklace for herself.

She found that it had all along been around her neck and she was happy!

When others asked her later if she found the necklace which was lost, she aid,

“Yes, I have found it.”.

She still felt that she had recovered a lost jewel.

Source:
http://sentient.org/ramana-maharshi/about-the-search.html

OAM NAMO BHAGAVATE SRI RAMANAAYA

this article is by one Ms. Shivani Sharma.
she visited Sri Ramanaashramam in the year for the first time in 1942
she was just of 7 years.the Text matter:


It was during this time (1942) that the decisive event of my life occured, something that has stayed with me ever since. As I don't remember the exact external details, leave it to my father who once told the story this way:


[ In the years when we were living in Madras,] I often brought my family and business collegues to the ashram on weekends. Out of all the people I brought, the Maharshi seemed to be particularly fond of my daghter. She had learned Tamil quite well during her time in Madras, so she could converse with him in his native language. They used to laugh and play together whenever we visited. On one of my visits she sat in front of the Maharshi and went into what appeared to be a deep meditative trance. When the bell for lunch went, i was unable to rouse her. The Maharshi advised me to leave her in peace, so we went off to eat without her. When we came back she was still in the same place in the same state. She spent several hours in this condition before returning to her normal waking state.


Major Chadwick had been watching all this with great interest. After her expereince ended, he approached the Maharshi and said, " I have been here for ten years, but have not had the experience like this. This seven-year old girl seems to have had this experience without making any effort at all. How can this be?'


The Maharshi merely smiled and said,
' How do you know that she is not older than you ? '

Source: Mountain path Advent issue - january - march 2010

The Story of Ribhu

The Story of Ribhu




This is a lovely story told by Ramana Maharshi
when a visitor asked him to explain:


A Puranic story of Sage Ribhu and his disciple Nidagha, is particularly instructive. Although Ribhu taught his disciple the supreme Truth of the One Brahman without a second, Nidagha, in spite of his erudition and understanding, did not get sufficient conviction to adopt and follow the path of Jnana (Wisdom), but settled down in his native town to lead a life devoted to the observance of ceremonial religion. But the Sage loved his disciple as deeply as the latter venerated his Master. In spite of his age, Ribhu would himself go to his disciple in the town, just to see how far the latter had outgrown, his ritualism. At times the Sage went in disguise, so that he might observe how Nidagha would act when he, did not know that he was being observed by his Master.


On one such occasion Ribhu, who had put on the disguise of a village rustic, found Nidagha intently watching a royal procession. Unrecognized by the town-dweller Nidagha, the village rustic enquired what the bustle was all about, and was told that the king was going in procession.




"Oh! it is the king. He goes in procession! But where is he?" asked the rustic. "There, on the elephant," said Nidagha. "You say the king is on the elephant. Yes, I see the two," said the rustic, "but which is the king and which is the elephant?" "What!" exclaimed Nidagha. "You see the two, but do not know that the man above is the king and the animal below is the elephant? What is the use of talking to a man like you?" "Pray, be not impatient with an ignorant man like me," begged the rustic. "But 'you said 'above' and 'below' -- what do they mean?"


Nidagha could stand it no more. "You see the king and the elephant, the one above and the other below. Yet ' you want to know what is meant by 'above' and 'below''' burst out Nidagha. "If things seen and words spoken can convey so little to you, action alone can teach you. Bend forward, and ' you will know it all ' too well". The rustic did as he was told. Nidagha got on his shoulders and said: "Know it now. I am above as the king, you are below as the elephant. Is that clear enough?" "No, not yet," was the rustic's quiet reply. "You say you are above like the king, and I am below like the elephant. The 'king', the 'elephant', 'above' and 'below' -- so far it is clear. But pray, tell me what you mean by 'I' and 'you'?"


When Nidagha was thus confronted all of a sudden with. the mighty problem of defining a 'you' apart from an 'I', light dawned on his mind. At once he jumped down and fell at his Master's feet saying: "Who else but . my venerable Master, .Ribhu, could have thus drawn my mind from the superficialities of physical existence to the true Being of the Self? Oh! benign Master, I crave thy blessings".


From "Spiritual Stories as told by Ramana Maharshi",
Source: www.sentient.org/story the story of RHIBU