March 21st, 2017

The Great Indian Saint Ramana Maharshi

Entrance to the Ramana Maharshi Ashram

After lunch, Richard and I crossed the street to the Ramana Ashram, an assortment of structures that organically took form over time to accommodate the needs of the great Indian saint Sri Ramana Maharshi (1879-1950) and the community of devotees that grew up around him. The walled complex today houses classrooms, accommodations for pilgrims, a gift shop and a shrine to Ramana, among other things. We walked through a large shady courtyard, took off our shoes as is customary before entering virtually any building in India, and climbed a few stairs to Samadhi Hall, the shrine to Ramana, an open-air pillared marble structure encased within a larger enclosed building..

The shrine to Ramana in the Samadhi Hall

Ramana experienced his spiritual awakening as a teenage boy after he was struck by an acute fear of death, which he decided to embrace fully. In so doing, he essentially died to this world while still in his body, and realized union with the divine (Samadhi). Soon after this experience, he left his family and traveled to Arunachala, where, according to Indian legend, Lord Shiva is said to have manifested as a column of light then assumed the form of this unprepossessing hill. Ramana lived his entire adult life at the base of this holy mountain.

Along with a few other visitors, Richard and I wandered about the shrine, the predominate feature of which is a flower-bedecked bronze statue of Ramana sitting in lotus position. An air of deep reverence and tranquility pervaded the room. We circumambulated the shrine and lingered in silence in the hall for some time, basking in the light, clear energy.

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Sri Ramana Maharshi

Eventually we wandered into the nearby gift shop. Shelf after shelf carried photos of Ramana, books about him and other writings related to self-inquiry and the non-dual tradition for which Ramana has become known around the world. I selected a 5”x7” black-and-white photo of him at an older age -- his eyes deep pools of love.. I had read books about Ramana and practiced self-inquiry but this was my first encounter with him in situ, so to speak, where I could immerse myself in the environment that supported him. I was both excited to find myself there and feeling a little numb, brought on by jet lag, culture shock and some deeper issues that were being stirred up by the very fact that I had embarked on this pilgrimage..

Richard and I spoke little as we left the Ramana Ashram and hailed one of the tuk-tuks clustered outside the gate to take us back to the Suddhananda Ashram. Quite weary by the time I got back to my room, I gratefully took a rest before cleaning up for dinner.

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The open air dining hall at Suddhananda Ashram

The ashram dining area is a large covered open-air structure divided into two sections, both with a concrete floor and surrounded by a low wall. Bisecting the two is an aisle with all the dishes and utensils stored on one side and a long row of sinks on the other.  The main section, where we usually congregated, had two small wooden built-in tables at one end. If you didn’t take a seat at these tables, which together could accommodate only about 8 people (there were over 20 of us), you could sit on the surrounding ledge or on the floor. The routine was to go to the central area and pick up a round metal plate, several small metal bowls, a metal cup and utensils. We then lined up in the second section where food was served cafeteria style out of large metal vats by Indian men and women who spoke little English, though they smiled responsively when greeted.

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A typical meal at the Suddhananda Ashram

These first meals were typical of the food we would be eating for our entire stay. It was vegan and sufficiently flavorful to be satisfying. I would soon learn that basically, every lunch and dinner consisted of one or two kinds of thin soup; a dal or vegetable main dish; white and/or brown rice, yogurt, a flat bread and a salad. Occasionally we got a sweet pudding-like dessert. The main dishes were a varying mélange of vegetables and legumes such as okra, carrots, onions, peppers, cauliflower, potatoes, tomatoes, eggplant, garbanzos, mung beans and some things I didn’t recognize, cooked together until soft. Of course, Indian spices prevailed. Breakfast was a thin oatmeal, a vermicelli noodle dish or another melange of cooked vegetables and fruit, usually pineapple or small bananas, more flavorful and with a smoother texture that those we get in the U.S. The food was healthy, filling and tasty. Memorable? No, but it was certainly more than adequate. There also was a purified water dispenser, essential for Westerners who have to beware of unfriendly critters in the tap water.

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The row of sinks where we washed dishes

The final step in the meal ritual was washing the dishes at the long row of concrete basins where mosquitoes congregated thanks to the running water. Food waste was dumped into a central pail to feed to the peacocks who strolled the grounds around the perimeter. Rather than liquid dish detergent, small metal containers of a gritty green paste and thin washing pads were used to clean the dishes, which were then set out across the aisle on a low shelf to air dry and be ready for use at the next meal.

This first week we enjoyed conversation in the dining hall, taking the opportunity to get acquainted with one another since in the weeks after we would be in silence.

Next: Public Satsangs and Growing Internal Discomfort

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