RAMANA MAHARSHI AS
A VEDIC SEER
By Patrick Lebail
THE January 1968 issue of The Mountain Path included a
paper by Professor Abinash Chandra Bose under the title "The
Vedic Hymns". It was and stays extremely interesting. I would
like to stress here how relevant it was for this paper to sound
a few chords of the Vedic symphony as an accompaniment to
Sri Bhagavan's teachings.
A knowledge of the Vedas and of the Vedic path is certainly
not a prerequisite for understanding, loving and practising --
every one in his own way and according to his own abilities --
these teachings. They are of an universal nature and do appeal
to every spiritual seeker whatever may be his local culture. Sri
Ramana was quite conversant with the subtleties of Hindu
thought and put them to good use whenever he spoke to Hindus
(and to non-Hindus who had a knowledge of the Hindu dharma [?]).
He did not need them for expressing deep, fundamental truths.
As a result, a Westerner is quite able to tread the path which he
delineated so clearly. Sri Bhagavan's words fulfil the deepest
needs both of our intelligence and of our heart. It is however a
fact that Sri Bhagavan was a Hindu and his own experience as
he expounded it was the rediscovery of that ancient Hindu
experience. To be sure, these discoveries ring true for any human
being, whether Hindu or non-Hindu. It proves nevertheless
rewarding to understand how ancient they are and how much
their profundity bears the seal of a timeless revelation.
Strictly speaking, Veda means these collections of Vedic
hymns about which Professor Bose wrote. They expound the
subtle and variegated Vedic thought, which arises from the
Vedic vision of truth. It was the gift of a lineage of seers, the
rishis. These ancient thinkers and mystics had deciphered the
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riddle which the world proposes to keen minds. According to
them, the universe was ruled by an overall harmony which
originated from a universal law, itself rooted in basic truth.
Gods, the resplendent ones, were its guardians. These same
Gods were friends and helpers of man. Attempting to emulate
the divine splendour in power, joy and righteousness was the
right path for all men. God and men were exchanging strength
and food through rituals. Gods were the dynamic facets of
one nameless, fundamental deity, "That One", which in turn
was seen, understood and sung by the rishis.
How was one to become a rishi [?]? Just as, for instance, one
is born to be a major composer of music, one had to be born
with the ability to "see"; one had furthermore to undertake a
severe, ascetic training with great dedication. The rishi [?] was
an ascetic and also a man of high literacy (the Vedic language
is much more complex than classical Sanskrit and most Vedic
poems are exquisite). He was a teacher of men and a bridge
between men and gods. As a group the rishis were the jewel
of Vedic mankind, a higher sub-species of homo-sapiens,
utterly dedicated to truth and to the service of man.
This sub-species did evolve during the millennia of its
existence, as Indian mankind was maturing out of its primeval
youth. The Vedic collections (samhitas) are a lasting testimony
to this youth, to the clearness of its mind and to the freshness
of its sensitivity. The last texts of the Vedas are the Upanishads [?].
In their time, the bold impetus of the Vedic spirit had somewhat
quieted. Vedic exuberance had flown past the rishis. They were
digging deeper into the innermost meaning of their former
discoveries. This was possible because of the stability of the
Hindu culture, which has often been denounced as being static
and stifling. Very subtle discoveries, however, take time; they
shape themselves during repeated generations of men. They
can blossom only in a stable culture. The human mind is better
able to ponder the infinite if it knows that tomorrow will be
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the same as today. In the same way, Nature teaches us that a
large tree needs much time to unfold itself to its full size and
will not reach it if its roots are disturbed by a shifting ground.
The Upanisadic rishis meditated upon "That One". They
discovered, within this unitary vision, a revelation of the
timeless, changeless, non-dual reality as being the innermost
truth and ground of the world at large, of Gods, of men. The
reality, Brahman [?], was oneself, atman, for every creature. A
clear experience of this reality as being oneself and everything
else was liberation from the existential bondage. Ritual was
good, but non-essential.
Vedic seers had already seen that their speech would be
heard in ages to come; this inspired prophecy was to prove to
be true; the Upanishadic rishis were no longer speaking for
the Vedic people, for India, but for every being in every
possible time and place. If there are Martians, Atman and
Brahman [?] are the same for them as for Earthlings, just as
physical laws are the same.
The earliest parts of the Mahabharatam were probably
shaped during the last Upanishadic period. Rishis are often
met within the text. Its reputed author, Vyasa, is one of its
protagonists and a very high rishi [?] himself. Several chapters
show us that rishis practised severe austerities. They
conducted the traditional worship since the Gods kept their
place in the structure of the world. Religion was a natural
element of right living. The rishis did mix with men, as living
examples and as teachers. Their glory was that they studied
the Veda. They enjoyed perfect inner peace. Truth was their
vow. Meditation was their very nature. Rishis used to alleviate
the sufferings of every creature by speech and deed.
Now, thousands of years later, here comes Ramana. Is he
not a member of this sub-species, a proof also that it is not
extinct and that mankind is still able to bring forth rishis, great
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or small, among whom he will loom as one of the greatest?
Maha-Rishi, Maharshi, as Ganapathi Muni saw it so clearly
at the end of the year 1907.
Anybody who has studied the Upanishads [?] and possibly
their native ground, the Veda, will agree that the core of what
Sri Bhagavan taught is precisely what lies at the heart of these
ancient teachings. Supremacy of the knowledge of the Self
(atman); need for inner austerity (tapas [?]) but not necessarily
for leaving aside one's worldly avocation; self-dedication to
the pursuit of liberation; even bhakti [?]. . . the rishis spoke this
kind of language and lived this kind of language and lived
this kind of experience. They expounded it in very ancient
book, written in archaic Sanskrit which no translation can
adequately render. They used similes and a symbolism which
are quite foreign to Western cultures and which only Hindu
scholars can properly fathom. As a contrast, the voice of Sri
Bhagavan arises in our twentieth century; he uses an everyday
language of India; we can understand at once any image he
develops. The value of a study of the Upanishads [?] and the
Veda stays undiminished. It is however, much easier to sit at
the feet of Sri Bhagavan and listen to his words; just as we
would have loved to sit at the feet of some great rishi [?] of olden
times and listen to his inspired speech.
While attempting to set up a parallel between Sri Bhagavan
and the rishis we meet an interesting problem. Nobody knows
whether any rishi [?] did step directly from ordinary manhood to
rishi [?]-hood, just as Sri Bhagavan did in July 1896 when he leapt
over both life and death, recognizing in a flash that he did not
differ from the Supreme. The Mahabharatam does not seem to
record such a feat. The saintly mother of Sri Ramana had
impressed upon him, from conception, the mysterious seal of
high wisdom which triggered the sudden transfiguration, from
a gawky teenager into a full-grown saint and sage. May we
bow down before such an event, in awe and wonder.
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Austerity, tapas [?] in the usual sense, was not the path of Sri
Ramana. He lived the simple life of the Hindu ascetic. We
find that he felt particularly happy when he subsisted by
begging. Austerity, tapas [?], is seen by him as an inner attitude
of mental dedication. He taught that ultimate tapas [?] is direct
enquiry into the fundamental problem, "Who am I??" (Let us
point out here that, in the Mahabharatam, a rishi [?] does advise
to meditate according to "Who am I?"). Sri Bhagavan
explained that "one-pointedness is the tapas [?] wanted". This is
both an excellent instruction and an example of the
Upanishadic process of getting to the essence of things.
The rishis were devotees. This facet of Sri Ramana does
not seem to be very widely known among Westerners. We
know that Sri Bhagavan was in his heart a devotee of
Arunachala Shiva. Whenever any incident full of love took
place, or whenever passages saturated with bhakti [?] were read,
we often saw Bhagavan overwhelmed with emotion.
Many Vedic themes appear in his talks. They lie at the core
of Hindu sensitivity which stems itself from the Veda. Seeing
"the One in the many" was a great Vedic revelation. When
Ramana said, "The devotees, God and the hymns are all the
Self", the ring of this remark is deeply, authentically Vedic.
The same thought, slightly transposed (but through the same
Upanishadic process of going to the root matter) was evoked
by him, "Engage yourself in the living present I".
Sri Bhagavan did not study the Veda, nor go through protracted
austerities but, he was Veda. His innate adherence to pure truth
and the clearness of his vision set him amongst the great rishis,
amongst the eternal glories of India and the eternal refuges of
mankind. What Sri Ramana wrote is Upanishad.
"May he enlighten our spirit", prayed an Upanishad in
ancient times. Thinking of Sri Bhagavan, let us pray again,
"May he enlighten our spirit"!
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