What is Meditation

Meditation Techniques

Spiritual Inspirators







Faqir Baba

Manav Dayal

Nirmala Pandit

Pandit Dayal

Bassi Gulam


Bhargat Singh

Lakbir Singh



Lal Chand

Lahori Pandiji

Ramesh Giri

Asha Thakur

Ramana  Maharshi - The greatest Impersonality

Meditation dissolves itself the moment you ask yourself:

Who am I...

Dear reader! I leave it to you to verify this assertion..
The great Ramana Maharshi said:

There is no greater mystery than this -that being the Reality ourselves, 
we seek to gain Reality. We think that there is something binding our reality and that it must be destroyed before the reality is gained.
It is ridiculous!

A day will dawn when you will yourself laugh at your effort.
That which is on the day of laughter is also now.

Meditation is thus a part of the search for the one you already are and the Wo am I is Ramanas gift to the world - a simple antidote to all technical attitudes seeking to "body build" the Spirit.

Like with Faqir Baba and Sunyata, I never met Ramana Maharshi in person—he passed away four years before I was born. Yet, he was the spiritual mentor to Sunyata, Papaji, and Bharadwaj, and his spiritual legacy was palpably transmitted through these remarkable individuals.
Long before meeting Papaji and Bharadwaj, Ramana became my first literary inspiration. In my early twenties, filled with spiritual enthusiasm, I would visit the library to devour every book by Paul Brunton I could find, enchanted by the mystical depths of India he portrayed. The unexplainable joy that overpowered me reading these books in my youth to day reminds me of a quotation from Meister Eckhart:

When a man delights to read or hear about God,
that comes of divine grace and is lordly entertainment for the soul.
To entertain God in one's thoughts is sweeter than honey.

Paul Brunton was the first to introduce Ramana Maharshi to a Western audience through his writings. Brunton visited Ramana Maharshi in the early 1930s and wrote about his experiences in his influential book, A Search in Secret India, published in 1934. This book played a significant role in bringing Ramana Maharshi to the attention of people outside India. After Brunton's books were published, Westerners began to arrive in larger numbers, and others, like Arthur Osborne, started writing about Ramana. Osborne even moved to India and settled at Ramana Maharshi's ashram in the late 1940s.
"The Greatest Impersonality"
became one of his names in the West. The psychologist C.G. Jung was fascinated by Ramana and planned to visit, but he ultimately decided against it at the last minute, choosing instead to write a foreword to European books about him. Here is what he wrote as
foreword to Heinrich Zimmer´s  "The Path to the Self".

"The Goal of eastern practices is the same as that of Western mysticism: The focus shifted from the "I" to the self, from man to God... The wisdom and mysticism of the East have, therefore, a very great deal to tell us, provided they speak in their own inimitable speech.
They should remind us of what we posses in our own culture of similar things and have already forgotten, and direct our attention to that which
we put aside as unimportant, namely the destiny of our inner man."

My impression is that Jung was somewhat intimidated by what he might encounter in Ramana's presence and was probably conscious of this trepidation. He maintained an intellectual distance and used Western mystics as a shield, rationalizing his abrupt cancellation of the planned visit to Ramana's ashram. I recognize this behavior very well from my own life, where I've done the same, and I deeply appreciate Jung for his significant contributions to   psychology.

Ramaswami Pillay - a Devotee still Alive
In 1989, I embarked on a 5,000 km motorcycle journey around South India, which included a visit to Ramana's ashram in Tiruvannamalai. Shortly after my visit in Ramana Ashram I wrote this chapter in my diary:


"Sweeping through a dry and flat landscape on my way to Tiruvannamalai, trails of dust chase every wheel on the road. Large, soft, almost blue stones, some several hundred meters high, pull rain from a yellowed paper sky to small, thirsty palm groves. Stone-walled wells lie like conquered fortresses in the warm sand. In the distance, a futile, drought-green giant stone gathers all the random stones in the landscape.
Mount Arunachala, geologically one of the world's oldest mountains, is considered by Indians as one of the world’s most sacred. I wander around a drowsy, peaceful and beautiful ashram at the foot of the mountain. A young Indian man approaches me and shares:
'Venkataraman, a boy of 16, was suddenly overwhelmed one morning by an intense fear of death, certain his final hour had come. He lay down to experience what it feels like to die. His body's life functions ceased, but the Self, the ocean of consciousness, continued beyond the body's confines. The all-pervasive Self—unbound by body, space, and time.

When the body revived, the young Venkataraman had vanished as an ego-entity. Without a plan or money for more than a couple of days, what later would be known as Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi left his family and home without notice for a mountain that, for reasons unknown to him, was deeply sacred: Mount Arunachala. For years, he lived here in a yogic trance, unnoticed by most except for the village children who amused themselves by throwing stones at his immobile body. For a few hours a day, he begged for food in Tiruvannamalai, just enough to sustain life; other times, he was so ecstatically lost in the Self that he maintained life only because he was fed by a few people who had recognized his exalted state of being.

Sometimes the sun rose, other times it was setting, he said of his early years at the foot of the mountain. Gradually, the body's death-like state ceased, and it began to lead a "normal" life—as a swing still moves back and forth, even though the one who was swinging has gone, Ramana himself explained. Slowly, an ashram grew around him. People from all places came to look into the eyes of a man who was nothing and could do nothing.'

The young monk bows with folded hands towards the holy mountain:

Tat twam asi: You are that supreme truth.
The Ashram Hall
We enter the spacious, cool meditation hall. It was built in the last years of Ramana's life.

I find it wonderful but Ramana disliked it and the commotion it attracted. He also disliked his status as Guru for the growing and ever-more organized ashram. Several times he tried to flee from the ashram but was each time caught by disciples, who on their tearful knees persuaded him to return. Four Brahmin priests sit chanting sacred texts from the Rigveda, who surely would have fled again if he hadn't already left his body in 1950.

I go to the ashram library and open one of Brunton's books at random. I land on a chapter about an English soldier who knew nothing about spirituality or Ramana Maharshi and happened to come to the foot of the mountain.

There, sitting on a stone, Ramana looked directly at him. The soldier met Ramana's gaze and found himself unable to move, rooted to the spot for several hours.

Observing a large colored photograph of Ramana in the hall I understand the English soldier. Although Ramana died many years back, he remains oddly alive, photographically captured in the unguarded moment that was his entire life.

With me from the ashram I got a large, hand-colored photo
of Ramana. It still adorns the wall of my meditation room.

With endless eyes right now, Ramana looks at me from that foto-painting, and that is enough. The silence he sat in is the same silence that emerges between the letters in the book and the water still flows in nameless rivers.
Teetering on the edge of infinity...

Yes! Ramana is still infectious, 40 years after his death.
Here in Tiruvannamalai at the foot of Arunachala, everything is very simple.
Ramaswamy Pillai.
Talking with many open smiles. Asks if they personally knew Ramana. They did not. Asks if there are still people here who knew Ramana alive. A young boy leads me away from the ashram to a sort of retirement home. In an extremely spartan but clean cell of no more than 6 square meters sits a large, athletic old man. The boy leaves me alone with the old man. We do not speak a word to each other. He sits nodding his head. We do not greet each other.
Suddenly after several minutes of silence, he speaks to me in fluent English. His name is Ramaswamy Pillai. Asks where I come from, what I do, etc. I also ask and he is maybe 96, he is not so sure. Ramaswamy Pillai met Ramana in 1917 and was with him every day until Ramana's death in 1950.

He vividly remembers the day he as a young man arrived at Arunachala. Yes, that day he sat at the feet of Ramana. When Ramana's famous gaze fell upon him, he was immobilized, rooted to the spot as if turned to stone.
From that day, there was no turning back.
Imperceptibly, surprisingly but astoundingly undramatically—silently, consciousness gently grows out of the body, filling the entire room and infinitely much more.
The body, crucified in a vise—inside the chest, it awakens—slowly curling me into itself. No time—we do not exist in time and space—but time and space exist in IT.

In the horizon, a confused voice asks:
Excuse me, Sir—are You enlightened?
Only your eyes will know. It depends on your eyes.

Someone knocks on the door. Ramaswamy is served warm milk and far away and yet incredibly close, I see that he shares it with me. Two lives sit opposite each other in silence, drinking warm powdered milk. He looks at the many small photographs of Ramana that I bought in the ashram—blessing each of the pictures with tiny, infinitely tender caresses.

Then he says several times very intensely:

You will make it...You will make it—You will realize the soul without effort. You cannot do that, but Ramana, that say God has chosen you. You will stop identifying with your body. You ask continuously: Who am I? and your “I” will realize that it is not the body, but the pure eternal Self full of bliss.

Sir!—It is, here—in your presence.

Have there been other women in your life than your mother?

Yes, I answer.

Desire for sex binds the “I” to the body. Sex and body belong together.
Be very careful... but you will make it! Very soon. In this life.

- Is desire bad?

Everything is perfect. It is perfect not to be the self. Because you are already the self. Only you look in the wrong direction. You think there is something to improve.

Sitting at the foot of a mountain. What is there, is everywhere.
How could it be possible to forget it?

We sit in silence—time goes and stands still.

Then Ramaswamy says:
The self is in everything—no need to improve the world. An evil man tried to harm Ramana for many years. He even dragged Ramana into court. When this man became old, he became very weak and lost all his friends. With bowed head, he went to Ramana and said: “I will go to hell for what I did to You.”
Ramana replied: “In Hell—there I am also.”

But when I return to the hell of the Indian roads I will forget that, I answer—suddenly back in a 6 square meter room.

Dear Sir! Please show me how to be the Self even in the winter of life.
Help me not to forget. I know tomorrow my meeting with you will be like a faint dream and then again I waste time driving around in circles.

Dear friend!—the Self does not care if you forget or not. You just relax and listen.
Ramaswami reads from a little book with quotes from Ramana:

There is no greater mystery than this—that being the Reality ourselves, we seek to gain Reality. We think that there is something binding our Reality and that it must be destroyed before the Reality is gained. It is ridiculous. A day will dawn when you will yourself laugh at your effort. That which is on the day of laughter is also now.

I bow and touch his feet.

Ramana, that say the Self has chosen you as It has chosen every human being—don’t you worry—now go back to the Indian roads. They are good teachers for the time being. Go from well to well—from river to river—and you will meet many holy persons. But in fact, you will only see your Self.

Yes! Dear Sir
Singing, I depart on my bike from Tiruvannamalai... "


(And I forget... and even forget that I had forgotten.)

But now I remember....


Sri Ramana Maharshi Full Life Story Documentary

Ramanas Maharshis official website.