Fwd: How I Came to the Maharshi-P. V. Karamchandani

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MillionPaths, "vioricail" <viorica@z...> wrote:

How I Came to the Maharshi

By Dr. Lt. Col. P. V. Karamchandani

 

 

Normally, as soon as I place my head on the pillow I fall asleep.

One night in February 1949 at Vellore, for no conscious reason, I

could not sleep and kept tossing in bed. That was something very

unusual. At 1 a.m. a telephone call came from Tiruvannamalai, a town

fifty-five miles away, asking me to reach there by 8 a.m., as

Bhagavan Ramana was very ill. Having received the call, I fell sound

asleep.

 

 

I was the District Medical Officer of North Arcot then, and

Tiruvannamalai was within my jurisdiction. I reached Tiruvannamalai

without any emotion. My only thought was that I was on a

professional mission of attending on a patient. The sainthood of

Bhagavan Ramana had no significance for me.

 

 

 

 

I examined Bhagavan Ramana. He had cancer of the main nerve, high up

in the arm. I gave my prescription and returned to Vellore the same

day.

 

 

I had conducted my examination of Bhagavan Ramana in a strictly

professional manner. I carried no spiritual feelings for him, nor

did he speak a word with me. But he had directed a momentary gaze of

grace at me which kept stirring me deeply. Involuntarily, I felt a

new vista of spiritual consciousness open out before me.

 

 

That wondrous gaze of Bhagavan seemed to envelop me with an aura of

bliss. The spiritual pull from him felt so irresistible that after a

few days I myself arranged a visit to Tiruvannamalai just for the

sake of having his darshan. I took my wife with me.

 

 

We visited Bhagavan with a sense of curiosity and an indefinable

sense of expectation. We made our obeisance and sat by his feet. We

did not speak a word, nor did he speak. No speech seemed necessary.

So surcharged with spirituality was he that his spirituality wafted

out to us, completely enveloping us. Serenity seeped into us. Our

minds attained a state of blissful, ecstatic meditation.

 

 

The tumour that Bhagavan was bearing must have given him the most

excruciating, nerve-wracking pain. Such writhing pain would make the

toughest man wince and moan. But Bhagavan's face was serene, smiling

and radiant.

 

 

All of a sudden a disciple accidentally touched only the fringe of

the thin bandage that was covering Bhagavan's tumour. Bhagavan gave

an involuntary start. The disciple felt bewildered and

mumbled, "Bhagavan, did I hurt you? It was only the fringe of the

bandage that my hand touched." Bhagavan smiled his benign smile and

softly said, "You do not know the enormous weight, as of a mountain,

that this fringe bears!"

 

 

That chance exclamation of Bhagavan indicated the severity of his

pain. But his godly face did not bear the slightest sign of his

agony. It reflected only joy and peace. He seemed to have switched

off his mind from the body to the divine.

 

 

The next occasion when I was summoned to Bhagavan's presence was

when he had developed anuria. I now went to his Ashram not with the

all-important feeling of a District Medical Officer going to visit

his patient. I went in the spirit of a humble devotee going to serve

a saint of colossal spiritual magnitude. My ministrations as a

doctor were to be coupled with the devotion of a disciple. When I

reached the Ashram I was told that for the past twenty-four hours

Bhagavan had not taken any food, not even a drop of water; that the

disciples' implorations in this behalf had failed; and that, in

consequence, the entire community was feeling most anxious. I was

entreated to persuade Bhagavan to eat something.

 

 

On examining Bhagavan I found that it was imperative that he should

take some fluid. But what if he refused my request too? Ordering him

in my capacity as a doctor seemed to be out of the question. I felt

like asking him as a boon to accept my prayer. I prayed inwardly and

held a glass of buttermilk before him.

 

 

He gazed at me for a second, took the buttermilk in shaking hands,

and drank it. My joy knew no bounds. There were relief and

jubilation all around. I was thanked profusely, but I felt

infinitely grateful for Bhagavan's overwhelming grace. He had heard

my silent prayer and granted my boon. Wonderful was the spiritual

exhilaration I experienced in Bhagavan's holy presence.

 

 

The next time I was called to him was at midnight. When I entered

his room, four disciples were there. Bhagavan was saying something

to them in Tamil.

 

 

They told me that he was asking them to leave the room but that they

wanted to stay as, according to them, he was in a delirium. I

persuaded them to go.

 

 

Three of them went away. The fourth one stayed on. Bhagavan turned

to him and whispered, "You are not going away because you feel that

you love me more than the others!" The disciple now knew that

Bhagavan was not delirious. He bowed and went.

 

 

I was left alone with Bhagavan. As usual, he did not speak with me.

I was also silent. But the vibrations that emanated from him were

celestial. His body must have been in terrific, mortal pain, but his

heavenly spirituality was unaffected by it. A rapturous thrill

electrified my entire being.

 

 

I administered to his body; but I was hardly conscious that I was a

District Medical Officer. I was conscious only of an intense desire

to worship this illumined soul. I had learned that Bhagavan did not

allow devotees to touch his feet. But I felt a deep urge within me

not only to touch his blessed feet but to press them lovingly. I

took courage in both my hands and pressed them.

 

 

The wonder of wonders! Bhagavan let me do so! His grace was

abounding. I considered myself in the seventh heaven. I glorify

those few minutes of my life.

 

 

The next time I was summoned to him was about three hours after

midnight. Pain must have been torturing his body. Still, he was

sound asleep. Holy silence filled the room. It was the ambrosial

hour of the dawn. I did not wish to disturb him. I sat quietly by

his feet. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. His gracious gaze fell on

me. He softly muttered, "D. M. O.!" The peculiar tone in which he

mentioned me indicated that I had been in his sacred thoughts and

that he was expecting me. I felt myself blessed. I silently

worshipped him. My whole being seemed to vibrate with ecstasy.

 

 

At that time I had been feeling restless about a promotion to the

rank of Major General (Surgeon General) which was legitimately due

to me as the seniormost I. M. S. Officer in the Province of Madras.

However I tried to banish the idea of that coveted promotion from my

mind, it loomed large before my mind's eye and marred my equanimity.

 

 

Then I said to myself, "Why am I fretting unnecessarily? The next

time I visit Bhagavan, I shall request him to grant me this

promotion!"

 

 

When I visited the Ashram again I went before Bhagavan with my mind

resolutely set on requesting him for that boon. But a marvel

happened. As soon as I saw Bhagavan my mind melted, the resolution

evaporated, and I felt filled with a strange contentment. A request

did formulate itself within me, but it was an entirely different

request. I inwardly prayed, "Bhagavan, free me from my craving for

this promotion. I don't want anything mundane. Instead, grant me my

soul's evolution." My prayer seemed to be instantly granted.

Effulgent joy flooded the very depths of my being. I reverently

bowed before Bhagavan and he gazed at me benevolently.

 

 

My last visit to Bhagavan was on the day he attained Nirvana. I have

described it in my book, Saintly Galaxy: how, on visiting him, I

found that his body would not last beyond that day; how I silently

prayed that he might retain his body till I brought my wife from

Vellore as she had always been anxious to witness a great saint's

last moments of life; how she brought orange juice for him; how he

would not accept any drink at all; how, once again inwardly, I

implored him to drink the orange juice to save my wife from deep

disappointment; how he accepted my unspoken prayer and asked for

orange juice to the transcendental delight of my wife and myself;

and how, shortly afterwards, in utter tranquillity, he passed on.

That was a scene of great sombre beauty.

 

 

During my two months' contact with Bhagavan, I did not speak a

single word with him. But what wonderful grace he poured into me

through his benign, benevolent gaze! A peerless spiritual experience

indeed!

 

 

- From The Mountain Path, January 1966

( www.sentient.org )

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