He chain smokes, eats out of a cracked coconut -shell, wields
a saint palm-leaf fan and beds on store verandahs, in temple compounds
or beneath the starry sky. But Yogi Ramsuratkumar is no vagrant.
He holds degrees from three of India's greatest "universities"
- Sri Aurobindo, Ramana Maharishi and Sri Ramdas. But at 71, the
student is now a teacher himself, and his "students"
range from Tamil savants to simple servants. They come from as
far away as Arizona, USA, for a few golden moments. His teaching
is simple- and obscures a lifetime of inner study- "Feel
the Presence of the Father within and all about you and the Divine
guidance in all your acts. God is not far away; He is here, right
where you are."
His haunt is the town of Tiruvannamalai, at the foot of Arunachala
Hill, South India, where legend says Siva appeared as a column
of fiery light. He wakes to crow cacophonies or the hungry whines
of stray dogs that come to him for alms - and get them. Devotees
seek him out from early dawn to late night. Invariably, he curtly
asks them why they come to him and repeats, "I am a beggar.
What do I have to give you?" They insist on staying. He laughs,
enjoying their invincible faith, and in his laugh, blessings commence.
But seeing him is not guaranteed. Nowadays, You have to get invited
through a little dilapidated iron gate outside the simple room
he occupies. For first-timers it's more imposing than the four-story
temple entrance tower down, the street. But just when it seems
he's not in - or you fear you are not worthy enough - he appears.
He may stand there with his odd-shaped, thatched fan in one hand
and wave the other as though etherically pushing away whatever
burden you secretly brought, then smile and send you away. Or
he may invite you in.
Author Ma Navaratham and husband Thiru had such fortune and made these notes: "Under the Punnai tree, amidst heaps of newspaper bundles, dried twigs, faded leaves and rotten refuse, we met him for the first tine. He is playing with his fingers as if rolling the rosary and his lips whispering, "Om Sri Ram Jaya Ram Jaya Jaya Ram." We begin to sense a great wave of joy in his presence and realize the luminous Reality touching our consciousness. The yogi laughs, jokes, enjoys his smoking, and in his own joyous freedom enables us to free ourselves from the grip of desires, demands, fears, stress and weakness.
"Though two-way discussion is rare, teenager Kumari Nivedita one day innocently hit a sensitive nerve when she doubted his beggar's identity. "So you don't believe I'm a beggar!" he challenged. "If you say so" she quickly demured. "Then what do you think of me?" "I think you are a great yogi, she said flatly. "What do you mean by a yogi?" he asked. "- You are not affected by pleasure and pain, praise and condemnation...-" she quoted from the Gita. "But this stone here is also like that. Is it a yogi?" he demanded. "You are not a stone; the stone will break when it is hit with a hammer," she insisted. "So will my leg," he replied. "No," she argued, "You are not the body; therefore you will not be affected." "But how do you know I am such a yogi ?" he baited. "You told Dr. Radhakrishnan that whosoever thought of you in whatsoever manner, you appeared to them like that. I think of you as a great yogi and therefore you appear to me as a great yogi." He gave up and laughed.
The Turning Point: Death of a Bird
Yogi Ramsuratkumar was born in 1918 on the banks of the Ganges
near Benares. As a boy he befriended the area's colorful sadhus,
sages and mendicants, spending his every free moment - and many
nights - with them before the dhuni fire, spellbound by their
wondrous tales of Gods and yogic visions. In the daytime he would
feed them.
One day when fetching water, the rope of his pail flung loose
and killed a small bird perched inside the well. He felt crushed.
He carried the lifeless creature down to the Ganges, performed
a final ritual, floated it out on the river and, as tears flowed
down his cheeks, swore that compassion would be his lifelong guide.
It appears he received a good college education but it failed to interest him. He gravitated back to his old sadhu friends on the banks of the Ganges. One night one of them told him about two South Indian saints - Sri Aurobindo and Ramana Maharishi. The young God-seeker set off at once, found them and secured profound awakenings during this period. Then in 1950, while moving high in the snow-clad Himalayas, he heard that his two teachers had died. He immediately charged back down south to the ashram of a third and divine great soul, Ramdas. He had twice before reached the steps of Ramdas' ashram and prematurely left. Now he was determined not to lose another "golden opportunity of keeping company with the great master." Ramdas received him, initiated him into the great Ram mantra and after some time, sent him off on mission with secret blessings. For seven years he wandered India, performing one sadhana - seeing the within and without illumined by the same light. In 1959 he arrived in Tiruvannamalai, the same place where his master Ramana Maharishi had meditated for decades.
Aggressive Hinduism
Yogi Ramsuratkumar has no organization but his voice echoes
loudly in the pages of Tattva Darsana, journal published by Professor
Rangarajan, founder of Sister Nivedita Acadermy and the yogi's
disciple
Hinduism Today, via Professor Rangarajan, was able to catch the
Yogi for a few candid thoughts. He quickly warned: "Aping
false values which do not fit into the Indian environment"
is Hinduism's biggest challenge today. Resonating tradition, he
asserted, "Humility, selflessness and respect for others
in the discharge of duties is the highest spiritual quality, and
children - raised properly, physically and mentally - are any
cultures greatest asset." Though his skin is wrinkled and
hair is white, this yogi has fire in his eyes and when he launches
into "The need for- the day is 'aggressive Hinduism,"
you realize this-is not a beggar ; this is a king giving orders.