II
Mouni Sadhu

THREE YEARS AGO the sad news of the departure from the
physical body of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi came to me
and his other devotees scattered throughout the world. I do not
wish to praise or compare the great Being at whose feet the
Almighty allowed me to abide.

For how could we, from our lower level of consciousness,
describe exactly this Being whose mission was to give us
something of his infinite light? And for adequate assessing of
his greatness, one must at least be on the same level of spiritual
glory. All that I can do is try to convey, what I found in my
own heart, when I received news of his departure.

The light from those luminous eyes of Sri Bhagavan, was
for ever engraved on my memory when leaving the Ashram.

And now the account of his death lies before me. Does it mean
that those eyes cannot any more radiate their silent initiation?

That the light of eternity has been really extinguished? That
would be ridiculous, I know this light is not a material one,
though it was conveyed through a material body. This is a
mystery but not a paradox. I found in my heart no urge to
discover that mystery through the mind. I feel that the fact was
so, even though unexplainable by the thinking process. So his
death did not deprive me of his reality.

I was sitting quietly, as in preparation for meditation, but
this time, the usual process was changed. Perhaps he saw that
the human heart, not yet free from all its weaknesses, needs
sometimes some consolation. And then, instead of a void, the
well known and beloved picture arose before me.

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There were most mysterious and inspiring evenings at the
Ashram, when the beautiful hymn "In praise of the Lord of the
Universe" (Five hymns on Arunachala) was sung in the hall. Sri
Bhagavan evidently loved the hymn, for there would appear a
peculiar expression of other than human beatitude and delight
on his face. I felt that the hearts of those who were present in
that blissful hour of evening contemplation were deeply attuned
to it. Perhaps his penetrating inner sight saw the beneficial process
in it, and his silent blessing was the answer. How can we fathom
what is unfathomable? And now I experienced once again, as
with all those others who were present, the same beautiful melody
heard before with my outer ears. It was as if I reviewed a film.

There was no sadness any more. Could it be otherwise? The
true legacy of the Master could never be less than joy this sublime
and silent joy of Being, untroubled by the waves of the
surrounding illusory world or maya. This was his peace which
he bequeathed to us.

Later came letters from devotees from other continents.

My distant friends gave their own accounts of how the tragic
news affected them. They tried their best to console
themselves and me, saying that the physical departure of the
Master could not break our spiritual link with him. And yet
the ink in the last paragraphs of such letters was often blurred
as from fallen tears.

It is said that love was the force that created the Universe.

Perhaps it is. But to me the force of such unselfish love as his, is
just that power that purifies our hearts, when all other methods
prove useless. No occult training nor any other method can
give the disciple the true peace which the Master gives.

Sri Maharshi was a centre of love such as this, to his
disciples. He left us his love and where else in the world could
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be found a purifying power such as this to bring peace to our
hearts?

The anniversaries of the mahasamadhi of Sri Bhagavan
will come one after another and one year will see the last one
for me on this earth. But at the last moment he will be with me,
as with every one of you who knew him, if you keep to the end,
his legacy of love.

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