Post by Sumi on Jan 13, 2012 12:27:39 GMT 5.5
Courtesy: Shri Sundararajan
Source: www.periva.org
Paul Brunton’s search for his
Master<http://mahaperiyavaa.wordpress.com/2011/03/15/paul-bruntons-search-fo...> - part 7
Source: www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
My companion suddenly breaks the silence between us.
“You are indeed lucky!”
“Why?”
“Because this is the first interview which His Holiness has granted to a
European writer.”
“Well ?”
“That brings his blessing upon you!”
It is nearly midnight when I return home. I take a last glimpse overhead.
The stars stud the vast dome of the sky in countless myriads. Nowhere in
Europe can one see them in such overwhelming numbers. I run up the steps
leading to the veranda, flashing my pocket torch. Out of the darkness, a
crouching figure rises and greets me.
“Subramanya!” I exclaim, startled. “What are you doing here? ” The
ochre-robed Yogi indulges in one of his tremendous grins.
“Did I not promise to visit you, sir? ” He reminds me reproachfully.
“Of course!”
In the large room, I fire a question at him. ”Your master – is he called
the Maharishee?”
It is now his turn to draw back, astonished.
“How do you know, sir? Where could you have learnt this?”
“Never mind. To-morrow we both start for his place.
“This is joyful news, sir.”
“But I shall not stay there long, though. A few days, maybe.”
I fling a few more questions at him during the next half-hour, and then,
thoroughly tired, go to bed. Subramanya is quite content to sleep on a
piece of palm matting which lies on the floor. He wraps himself up in a
thin cotton cloth, which serves at once as a mattress, sheet and blanket,
and disdains my offer of more comfortable bedding.
The next thing of which I am aware is suddenly awakening.The room is
totally dark. I feel my nerves strangely tense.The atmosphere around me
seems like electrified air. I pull my watch from under the pillow and, by
the glow of its radium-lit dial, discover the time to be a quarter to
three. It is then that I become conscious of some bright object at the foot
of the bed. I immediately sit up and look straight at it. My astounded gaze
meets the face and form of His Holiness Shri Shankara. It is clearly and
unmistakably visible. He does not appear to be some ethereal ghost, but
rather a solid human being. There is a mysterious luminosity around the
figure which separates it from the surrounding darkness. Surely the vision
is an impossible one? Have I not left him at Chingleput? I close my eyes
tightly in an effort to test the matter. There is no difference and I still
see him quite plainly! Let it suffice that I receive the sense of a benign
and friendly presence. I open my eyes and regard the kindly figure in the
loose yellow robe.
The face alters, for the lips smile and seem to say: “Be humble and then
you shall find what you seek!” Why do I feel that a living human being is
thus addressing me? Why do I not regard it as a ghost, at least?
The vision disappears as mysteriously as it has come. It leaves me feeling
exalted, happy and unperturbed by its supernormal nature. Shall I dismiss
it as a dream? What matters it?
There is no more sleep for me this night. I lie awake pondering over the
day’s meeting, over the memorable interview with His Holiness Shri Shankara
of Kumbakonam, the Hierarch of God to the simple people of South India.
concluded
That was the fantastic narration of his meeting with Swamigal and paved way
for Paul Brunton to meet Sree Ramana by which the western world came to
know Bhagavan
Sundararajan
Recommend all to read the whole book in
www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
His meeting with Bhagavan is another story for a latter day
SSR
Source: www.periva.org
Paul Brunton’s search for his
Master<http://mahaperiyavaa.wordpress.com/2011/03/15/paul-bruntons-search-fo...> - part 7
Source: www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
My companion suddenly breaks the silence between us.
“You are indeed lucky!”
“Why?”
“Because this is the first interview which His Holiness has granted to a
European writer.”
“Well ?”
“That brings his blessing upon you!”
It is nearly midnight when I return home. I take a last glimpse overhead.
The stars stud the vast dome of the sky in countless myriads. Nowhere in
Europe can one see them in such overwhelming numbers. I run up the steps
leading to the veranda, flashing my pocket torch. Out of the darkness, a
crouching figure rises and greets me.
“Subramanya!” I exclaim, startled. “What are you doing here? ” The
ochre-robed Yogi indulges in one of his tremendous grins.
“Did I not promise to visit you, sir? ” He reminds me reproachfully.
“Of course!”
In the large room, I fire a question at him. ”Your master – is he called
the Maharishee?”
It is now his turn to draw back, astonished.
“How do you know, sir? Where could you have learnt this?”
“Never mind. To-morrow we both start for his place.
“This is joyful news, sir.”
“But I shall not stay there long, though. A few days, maybe.”
I fling a few more questions at him during the next half-hour, and then,
thoroughly tired, go to bed. Subramanya is quite content to sleep on a
piece of palm matting which lies on the floor. He wraps himself up in a
thin cotton cloth, which serves at once as a mattress, sheet and blanket,
and disdains my offer of more comfortable bedding.
The next thing of which I am aware is suddenly awakening.The room is
totally dark. I feel my nerves strangely tense.The atmosphere around me
seems like electrified air. I pull my watch from under the pillow and, by
the glow of its radium-lit dial, discover the time to be a quarter to
three. It is then that I become conscious of some bright object at the foot
of the bed. I immediately sit up and look straight at it. My astounded gaze
meets the face and form of His Holiness Shri Shankara. It is clearly and
unmistakably visible. He does not appear to be some ethereal ghost, but
rather a solid human being. There is a mysterious luminosity around the
figure which separates it from the surrounding darkness. Surely the vision
is an impossible one? Have I not left him at Chingleput? I close my eyes
tightly in an effort to test the matter. There is no difference and I still
see him quite plainly! Let it suffice that I receive the sense of a benign
and friendly presence. I open my eyes and regard the kindly figure in the
loose yellow robe.
The face alters, for the lips smile and seem to say: “Be humble and then
you shall find what you seek!” Why do I feel that a living human being is
thus addressing me? Why do I not regard it as a ghost, at least?
The vision disappears as mysteriously as it has come. It leaves me feeling
exalted, happy and unperturbed by its supernormal nature. Shall I dismiss
it as a dream? What matters it?
There is no more sleep for me this night. I lie awake pondering over the
day’s meeting, over the memorable interview with His Holiness Shri Shankara
of Kumbakonam, the Hierarch of God to the simple people of South India.
concluded
That was the fantastic narration of his meeting with Swamigal and paved way
for Paul Brunton to meet Sree Ramana by which the western world came to
know Bhagavan
Sundararajan
Recommend all to read the whole book in
www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
His meeting with Bhagavan is another story for a latter day
SSR