Monday, August 12, 2019

At the master's feet

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I am sitting just 4 feet away from where Ramana Maharshi used to sit and meet people in the old hall. It is morning and my fingers are touching the black stones of the floor, in an effort to ground myself to the vibrations of the place.

I sit motionless which is very easy to do in this atmosphere. I am able to see each and every thought arising in my mind with astounding detail and detachment along with being conscious of my breath. This has never happened before. Most of my thoughts are about self-importance and communication of this to others. How I am going to brag to others what experience did I have and entering into philosophical discussions about it. I can see my communication instinct so vividly. While mind is thinking about all this, I am fully aware and I try to gather and let my thoughtless self prevail. After few moments of success, it is same again.
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Walls are decorated with big and small pictures of Maharshi's life. Floor is made up of red square tiles layed in offseted manner. Stones of the wall are painted in light yellow and all the woodwork in bottle green. There's plenty of light and air in the room. I am sitting on floor resting my back on the wall experiencing few precious moments of silence and clarity. Coming to the ashram and seeing all these pictures and artifacts feels like being in ancestral home of some loving great grandfather whom I have forgotten from ages. Unlike other places of ashram, there is no set purpose for this room. There is absolutely nothing to do and I don't have any problem with it. Time is flowing at it's own pace taking me in it. And I have lost resistance to it.
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I am seated below the tree outside old hall in darkness. A hot summer day at Ashram is about to close and people are singing Ramana Sadhguru Rayane in the samadhi hall in tamil. Ladies' stanza is followed by gents' and slowly it goes on and on building up atmosphere of sincerity and devotion. Their singing is so harmonious that the collective accent of their language still emerges out of it and adds to the character of the song. Their singing is urging me to let the waves of devotion run over my anxious mind and close my day.

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It is 5pm. Maharshi's samadhi mandap and its 16 carved stone pillers are ringing with veda chants. Everyone in samadhi hall is silently marvelling at these air-piercing pronouncements on the deep mystical existence of man. Throats are getting choked and tears are building up in eyes. These ancient sounds from forefathers are moving people exactly in a way they themselves would have been moved once.
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