Clothes of all sorts, sizes and colours heaped and rolled in disarray around his body from head to toe; a roll of peacock feathers, newspapers and mats tied together in one hand and the other hand casually playing with the thick growth of beard; peals of sudden laughter - a personification of dishevelled splendour! Such may be one's first impression of the Yogi Sri Ramsuratkumar of Tiruvannamalai.

Not a strong physique, yet there is a sense of toughness in his movements and firmness in whatever he utters. He smokes cigarettes, happily offered to him by his admirers, continuously. Yet, even as a hater of smoking or rather one who would get choked in cigarette fumes, I remain unaffected in his proximity. I notice that hardly any trail of smoke comes out of his mouth in spite of his chain smoking!

The house in which he lives is so dirty and untidy, unkempt; things are strewn all round. Cigarette packets scattered, ashes heaped up. Though the room has ventilation due to a raised portion in the middle of the building, yet a sense of suffocation is felt. Added to all this, an old dog, with sores all over, is tied permanently there. The Yogi opens the door himself and gives a very warm welcome and after you enter, closes the enormously strong and heavy door himself. He motions me and my friends to sit on a spread mat, which has on it more layers of dirt than perhaps, strings.

He made pointed enquiries regarding names of persons, town from where we hail, occupation etc. But I saw an undercurrent of disinterestedness in eliciting such information, though later on, in my other visits, I found out, that he did remember most of them. In the middle of conversations I noticed him getting into a peculiar and strong mental stillness, lifting up his right hand holding the bundles and stopping every other activity of his but all the while looking into you, penetratingly, just a timeless moment. Then the activities started again.

This apparent interruption did not dislocate the chain of thoughts that flowed there. Many a time this strange" act of withdrawal" takes place and on such occasions one can definitely feel a deep concerted spray of quietude.

My friend introduced me thus: "This is the musical wizard of South India, Sri Ilaya Raaja, a deeply spiritual man. He has taken Bhagavan as his Guru. He can quote many passages from Bhagavan's 'Talks' at random. He has heard about your greatness. He thus sees only Bhagavan in you. He ........." Before further words come out, the Yogi interrupts the long introduction; a peal of laughter emerges from him. He almost cries out; 'Oho! Raja can sec Bhagavan in this beggar. So, he is great! This beggar can see Bhagavan only in Bhagavan! Oho ......." He goes on laughing for a few minutes resulting in tears welling up in his eyes. It was a beautiful sight to see a siddha purusha go into ecstasies! However, I was unhappy over the whole episode. I tum to my friend with a look of disapproval over the nature of his introduction of me to the Yogi- the Yogi claps and applauds his utterances! Suddenly, involuntarily, ail join in the laughter parade that rends and reverberates through the whole building. In a trice I forget the feeling of my agitation over the introduction, the Yogi's comments on it, the laughter-the whole environment. At that moment I expérience, with no effort on my part, pure, unalloyed joy!

Who is this Yogi?

Mother Ganga has reared many a great Mahatma. is the birthplace of yggis, munis, vairagis and jnanis. The holy river ever represents the spiritual soul of Bharat. On the banks of the Ganges, Varanasi, the sacred city, stands keeping aloft the hoary traditions of Sanatana Dharma (so inaptly called 'Hinduism').

Ramsuratkumar was born in a village near this holy city. Mother Ganga fascinated this child in an inexplicable way and playing along its shores brought happiness to him. "And often at night he wandered down to the river under the myriad of stars to listen to its gentle sounds and watch the twinkling of the stars in its ceaseless movement."

As years moved along, this boy longed to have the company .of holy men who ever thronged the shores of the Ganges. Sadhus and sannyasis always attracted him. The inner urge for spiritual fulfilment produced these ripples surfacing as a longing to be with holy men. The sight of the death of a bird changed the course of the lad's life. Till then, for the teenager, life was only mirth and joy; thereafter a peculiar sense of sorrow and seclusion clouded his life. This, perhaps, was a blessing in disguise. He started roaming in and around Lord Visvanatha's temple in the burial ghats of Kasi and the ever inviting charms of the flashing waters of the Ganges. Slowly, the elixir of God-intoxication seeped into him. His life was positively changed from empty wanderings in the world into pining for the Lord. This period of his life was one of intense suffering, longing for unity with God.

One of the monks guided him to go to SriAurobindo and Sri Ramana Maharshi. In 1949 he visited Aurobindo Ashram. Then he came to Sri Ramanasramam. In Bhagavan Ramana he saw the height of spiritual perfection. He stayed there for two months and drenched himself in the peace of Bliss that ever flowed from the Sage of Arunachala. Yogi Ramsuratkumar in the meanwhile also met Swami Ramdas of Kanhangad. In 1950, both Sri Ramana Maharshi and Sri Aurobindo dropped their physical frames. This drove him again to Swami Ramdas, who initiated him into Ram Mantra. This revolutionised theYogi's life and put him on the ladder of spiritual ascent. He became a thoroughly changed man. Fondly addressed as 'Papa', Swami Ramdas became the Guru of this 'beggar', as he henceforth chose to call himself.
Under the instruction of Swami Ramdas he came to Arunachala, stayed many months at Sri Ramanasramam, and spent these days in experience of ecstasy. Later on he moved to the town. He begged in the streets, slept under trees and in dilapidated buildings; went round Arunachala Hill any number of times. All through, an unseen Hand was moulding him into a 'child' of the 'Father. He lost all identity of himself, as also body consciousness. Whatever happened in and around him he took it as purely the Lila of the 'Father. To those who sought his guidance it was always "May my father bless yon" and never" I Bless you".

Reminiscing on the time spent in Bhagavan's presence, the Yogi said: "Once a sadhaka asked a list of questions. One of the eight questions, along with Sri Maharshi's reply, was translated into English for the benefit of a few beggars like myself, seated nearby. The Question: 'If the Guru drops his body even prior to the sishya having succeeded in his sadhana, is it necessary for the sishya to seek out a living Guru to guide him further on?' The reply: 'Not necessary. He can continue in his sadhana and guidance would continue."

When one of us ventured to ask the Yogi why in that case he had gone to Swami Ramdas after Maharishi's passing, he graciously replied: "I had begun to see that a Higher Power was expressing itself, using me as an instrument. Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharishi was a principal influence in shaping this beggar to this state. After His passing away, I did not see any conflict in going to Swami Ramdas. It was Swami Ramdas who initiated me and gave me this madness! "
Yogi Ramsuratkumar added: "The inner life of saints like Sri Aurobindo, Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharishi, J. Krishnamurti and Swami Ramdas is far far removed from what we can externally perceive of them. They operate rooted in the Eternal Infinite which can never be 'known'. There is no individual there to report differences! "
His childlike candour, impish humour and deep devotion to the Guru lifted us into a sense of freedom and lightness. When we took leave of him, it was with the joy of having seen a great and good soul and benefited by his presence.