Sadhanai Saram – The Essence of Spiritual Practice (sadhana)

As I had intimated in several of my recent articles, today I have uploaded the following four new e-books to the Books section of my website:

• An e-book copy of the English translation by Sri Sadhu Om and Michael James of Sri Arunachala Stuti Panchakam.
• An e-book copy of the English translation by Sri Sadhu Om and Michael James of Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai.
• An e-book copy of Sadhanai Saram by Sri Sadhu Om.
• An e-book copy of Part Two of The Path of Sri Ramana by Sri Sadhu Om.

I have also uploaded a PDF copy of La Félicité et l'Art d'Etre – Chapitre 1, ‘Qu’est-ce que la Félicité?’, which is a French translation of the first chapter of Happiness and the Art of Being, ‘What is Happiness?’.

The following is an extract from the introductory page that I wrote for Sadhanai Saram:

சாதனை சாரம் (Sadhanai Saram), the ‘Essence of Spiritual Practice’, is a collection of several hundred Tamil verses composed by Sri Sadhu Om on the subject of the practice of atma-vichara (self-investigation) and atma-samarpana (self-surrender).

சாதனை (sadhanai) is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit word sadhana, which in a spiritual context means ‘spiritual practice’ but which more generally means an ‘expedient’ or ‘means to an end’, that is, any means that is adopted to accomplish a particular aim or goal (being derived from the verbal root sadh, which means to ‘go [or lead] straight to a goal’, ‘achieve’, ‘accomplish’, ‘effect’, ‘bring about’ or ‘produce’), and சாரம் (saram) is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit word sara, which means ‘substance’, ‘essence’ or ‘inner core’, or in a literary context a ‘summary’ or ‘epitome’, or the ‘gist’, ‘main point’ or ‘real meaning’ of a subject.

Since people have many different aims — even in a spiritual context (since they espouse many different concepts about the goal or purpose of spiritual or religious endeavour) — they adopt many different practices or sadhanas to achieve whatever goal they are seeking. Therefore in the name of sadhana people do many different forms of meditation, yoga, prayer, worship and other such actions of mind, speech or body.

Each of these actions done in the name of sadhana or ‘spiritual practice’ will no doubt produce some result, but whatever that result may be, is it the real spiritual goal that we should all be seeking? What actually is the real spiritual goal?

One thing that is common to all the many goals or results that we each seek to achieve by all our various spiritual and worldly endeavours is that we regard them as a means to happiness. Ultimately the one goal that we all seek to achieve is to be happy, so the real spiritual goal is happiness — unlimited, unalloyed and everlasting happiness — and only when we achieve such happiness will all our endeavours or sadhanas be fulfilled and finally come to an end.

What is real happiness, and how are we to achieve it? As Bhagavan Sri Ramana has taught us, infinite happiness is our true nature — our own essential self — and our present seeming lack or deficiency of happiness is caused only by our self-ignorance — our lack of clear and certain knowledge about who or what we really are. Therefore he taught us that the one real goal of all spiritual endeavour is only the experience of clear self-knowledge, because only when we know ourself as we really are will we experience the true happiness that we all seek.

Since self-ignorance is the ultimate cause of all forms of unhappiness, a sadhana or ‘means’ can enable us to achieve unalloyed and infinite happiness only if it is able to remove our fundamental self-ignorance. Therefore Sri Ramana taught us that the only true sadhana or ‘spiritual practice’ is atma-vichara — the practice of self-investigation, self-scrutiny or self-attentiveness.

That is, in order to destroy our self-ignorance we must experience ourself as we really are, and we cannot know ourself as we really are without attending to ourself — that is, without keenly and carefully examining or scrutinising ourself with true and all-consuming love to know ‘who am I?’. Only when we withdraw our attention from everything else — from all thoughts, from all objects and from everything that is other than ‘I’ — and focus it keenly and exclusively upon our fundamental self-consciousness, ‘I am’, will we be able to experience ourself without the superimposition of any of the adjuncts that we now mistake to be ourself, such as our body and our thinking mind.

We now mistake ourself to be this body and mind only because we have never tried (or have not yet succeeded in our effort) to know our essential self exclusively — free from even the least consciousness anything other than ‘I’. This self-negligence or habit of ignoring or overlooking our essential self is called pramada (‘negligence’ or ‘carelessness’), and the only means or sadhana by which we can overcome it is vigilant self-attentiveness or self-remembrance, which is the practice of atma-vichara or self-investigation.

This practice of atma-vichara is also called atma-samarpana or self-surrender, because when we investigate and know our real self we will automatically give up or ‘surrender’ our false self, which is our mind or ego, the spurious form of consciousness that experiences itself as ‘I am this body, a person called so-and-so’.

Every religion teaches us that we should deny ourself or surrender ourself to God, but how can we truly surrender or deny ourself when we do not even know what we really are? Until we know ourself as we really are, we cannot know what the ‘self’ is that we should deny or surrender to God.

We can never truly deny or surrender our real self — that which we really are — so the ‘self’ that we are to surrender or efface can only be our false self — that which we are not but merely appear to be. However, we cannot surrender or separate ourself from this false self, our mind or ego, so long as we experience it as ourself. Therefore we can surrender our false self only by experiencing ourself as our real self.

That is, though we may be able to surrender (not completely but at least to a limited extent) the desires and attachments of our false self without knowing our real self, we cannot surrender our false self itself until we experience ourself as we really are. Therefore our self-surrender or self-denial will be complete only when we investigate ‘who am I?’ and thereby know what we really are.

Thus atma-vichara or self-investigation is the only truly effective means or sadhana by which we can surrender ourself to God, and this is why Sri Ramana says in the thirteenth paragraph of Nan Yar? (Who am I?):

Being completely absorbed in atma-nishtha [self-abidance], not giving even the slightest room to the rising of any other chintana [thought] except atma-chintana [self-contemplation or self-attentiveness], alone is giving ourself to God. ...

Our mind or false self rises and sustains itself by thinking — that is, by attending to anything other than itself — so when we focus our entire ‘thought’ or attention upon ourself (our essential self-consciousness, ‘I am’) and thereby exclude all other thoughts, our mind will automatically subside and dissolve into our real self, ‘I am’, which is the ‘ground’ or fundamental consciousness of being that underlies and support its false appearance.

In other words, thought or objective attention is the air that our mind must constantly breathe in order to survive. Therefore, by thinking of (or attending to) anything other than ourself, we are feeding and nourishing our mind, whereas by thinking of (or attending to) ourself alone, we are starving or stifling it, thereby causing it to subside or surrender itself to its underlying reality, our pristine non-dual self-consciousness, ‘I am’.

Therefore, as Sri Ramana teaches in this important passage of Nan Yar?, we can surrender ourself effectively and entirely only by being vigilantly self-attentive and thereby excluding not only all other thoughts but even our thinking mind itself.

Conversely, we can be truly self-attentive — that is, firmly established in the non-dual practice of atma-vichara or atma-nishtha — only to the extent that we surrender or deny ourself by refraining from rising as this thinking mind, which is our false self. Therefore self-investigation and self-surrender are truly one and inseparable, like the two sides of a single piece of paper.

The reason why the one true sadhana or means by which we can know ourself as we really are is sometimes described as atma-vichara or self-investigation and sometimes as atma-samarpana or self-surrender is that the former emphasises its jnana or ‘knowing’ aspect while the latter emphasises its bhakti or ‘love’ aspect. We cannot know ourself as we really are and thereby surrender all that we are not unless we have intense and all-consuming love to experience ourself thus, and our love to experience ourself thus will grow and increase to the extent to which we gain true clarity of self-consciousness by constantly practising self-attentiveness.

Therefore the single sadhana or practice of self-investigation and self-surrender is not only the true jnana yoga or ‘path of knowing’ but is also the pinnacle or culmination of bhakti yoga or the ‘path of devotion’. Since God is our own essential self, we can surrender our false self and merge in him only by investigating and knowing who we really are.

Though there are many different forms of sadhana or spiritual practice, among all of them there is ultimately only one true and essential form, and that is this non-dual practice of atma-vichara or self-investigation, because it is the only sadhana by which we can directly and immediately experience ourself as we really are.

As Sri Ramana once said, though various paths may help to purify our mind and thereby lead us close to the citadel of true self-knowledge, in order to actually enter that citadel we must pass through the only gateway, which is the practice of atma-vichara or self-investigation, because we cannot know ourself as we really are unless we keenly scrutinise ourself with an intense love to discover ‘who am I?’.

That is, though other forms of sadhana may purify our mind and thereby give it the clarity to understand that the only true sadhana or means to self-knowledge is vigilant and keenly penetrating self-attentiveness (as Sri Ramana teaches us in verse 3 of Upadesa Undiyar), no other sadhana can enable us to experience self-knowledge directly, because we cannot know ourself as we really are unless we closely and carefully attend to ourself. Attention, which is our ability to direct our consciousness towards something (or rather, our ability to bring something within the centre of our consciousness), is the only means by which we can know anything, so we can know our essential self only by attending to it — that is, by attending to our fundamental self-consciousness, the consciousness that we always experience as ‘I am’.

Whereas every other form of sadhana is a karma or action, since it involves some form of objective attention — that is, attention to something other than our essential self — the practice of atma-vichara is not an action or ‘doing’ but is only a state of just ‘being’, since it is an absolutely non-objective attention — that is, an attention to nothing other than our essential self, ‘I am’. Since our goal is not any state of action or karma but only the pristine state of absolutely action-free being, we cannot attain it by any kind or any amount of action, but only by refraining completely from all forms of action, which we can do only by our focusing our entire attention upon our essential self, thereby withdrawing it from everything else and causing our mind to subside without action in our natural state of pure self-conscious being.

Therefore this sadhana or practice of self-investigation and self-surrender that Sri Ramana has taught us is truly sadhana sara — the essence, core or cream of all forms of spiritual practice — and hence this collection of verses composed by Sri Sadhu Om on this essential form of spiritual practice is called Sadhanai Saram, the ‘Essence of Spiritual Practice’.

Upadesa Tanippakkal – an explanatory paraphrase

In continuation of my previous six articles, which were explanatory paraphrases of Upadesa Undiyar, Ulladu Narpadu, Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham, Ekatma Panchakam, Appala Pattu and Anma-Viddai (Atma-Vidya), the following is the last of seven extracts from the introductory page that I have drafted for Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai (an e-book copy of which I will be uploading to the Books section of my website within the next few days, along with e-book copies of Sri Arunachala Stuti Panchakam, Sadhanai Saram and Part Two of The Path of Sri Ramana):

Besides these six poems that form உபதேச நூன்மாலை (Upadesa Nunmalai), there are a total of twenty-seven separate verses of upadesa (spiritual teaching) that Sri Ramana composed, which are not included in the Upadesa Nunmalai section of ஸ்ரீ ரமண நூற்றிரட்டு (Sri Ramana Nultirattu), the Tamil ‘Collected Works of Sri Ramana’, but which could appropriately be included there.

However, as I explain in the introduction that I wrote for this English translation of Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai, which is contained in the printed book and in the e-book copy of it (and also in a separate article in my blog, Sri Ramanopadesa Nunmalai – English translation by Sri Sadhu Om and Michael James), Sri Sadhu Om gathered these twenty-seven verses together and arranged them in a suitable order to form a work entitled உபதேசத் தனிப்பாக்கள் (Upadesa-t-tani-p-pakkal), the ‘Solitary Verses of Spiritual Teaching’, and he included this work at the end of his Tamil commentary on Upadesa Nunmalai, which is a book called ஸ்ரீ ரமணோபதேச நூன்மாலை – விளக்கவுரை (Sri Ramanopadesa Nunmalai – Vilakkavurai).

At least thirteen of these twenty-seven verses of Upadesa Tanippakkal (namely verses 2, 3, 7, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16, 19, 21, 23, 24 and 25) were originally composed by Sri Ramana as part of Guru Vachaka Kovai, and were therefore included in the second edition of it (which was published in 1971) as verses B4, B5, B16, B10, B15, B12, B13, B19, B6, B24, B26, B28 and B27 respectively (of which all except verse B24 [Upadesa Tanippakkal verse 21] were also included in the first edition, which was published in 1939). The other fourteen of these twenty-seven verses may not actually have been composed as part of Guru Vachaka Kovai, but were nevertheless included in the third edition of it, which was published in 1998.

Eight verses of Upadesa Tanippakkal (namely verses 1, 8, 11, 17, 21, 23, 24 and 25) are translations or adaptations of verses from ancient Sanskrit texts, and verse 22 is a condensed adaptation of a verse from a Tamil text called Prabhulinga Lilai, but the other eighteen verses are all Sri Ramana’s own original compositions.

In verse 1 (which is an adaptation of the first verse of a Sanskrit text called Siva Jnana Bodham, and which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 114-a [the first verse in the appendix of our English translation]) he says that because this world, which consists of female, male, neuter and so on, is seen as an effect (karya), a ‘doer’ (or agent) who creates it does exist as the cause (karana) of this world, and that this ‘doer’ destroys and creates this world, and is known as Hara (or God).

That is, so long as we see this world as an effect (a result or product, that is, something that is not permanent but has come into existence), we have to accept the existence of cause or creator that has brought it into existence, and this cause, which not only creates but also destroys this world, is called ‘Hara’ or ‘God’. This truth is stated by Sri Ramana in a more refined manner in the first verse of Ulladu Narpadu, in which he says that this ‘cause’ — the ஓர் முதல் (or mudal) or ‘one primal reality’, which is self — is that which appears as everything: the seeing mind, the world-picture that it sees, the light of consciousness by which it sees, and the ground or underlying being that supports its seeing.

However, our real self appears as God, the cause or creator of this world, only so long as we see this world instead of seeing ourself as we really are. When we look inwards to see the reality of our mind, which sees this world-appearance and infers the existence of a creating God, our mind will dissolve and disappear, and in the absence of this seeing mind neither the world nor any separate God will exist. That is, the mind (or ‘soul’), world and God are all a false appearance, the sole reality of which is our true self — our essential consciousness of being, ‘I am’.

In verses 2 and 3 (which are also verses B4 and B5 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana explains the tattva or truth signified by Deepavali (the ‘array [or series] of lights’), an important Hindu festival that celebrates the destruction of the demon Narakasura, who symbolises the ego.

In verse 2 he summarises the meaning of verses 181 and 182 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that a person who slays Narakan (the demon who embodies our ego) with the jnana-chakra (the discus of self-knowledge) by investigating ‘where is Narakan, who rules the world of hell (naraka) as “[this] hell-body is I”?’ is Narayana (Lord Vishnu), and that that day (on which Narakasura is thus slain) is the auspicious day of Naraka Chaturdasi (the day of the fourteenth waning moon, on which people commence the Deepavali festival by taking a ritual bath to celebrate his destruction).

In verse 3 he rephrases verse 183 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that Deepavali (the ‘array of lights’) is our shining as self, having scrutinised and thereby destroyed the great sinner, the evil Narakasura, who degenerated by imagining the illusory (or miserable) body abode, which is the form of hell (naraka), to be ‘I’.

That is, Narakasura is our mind or ego, which has fallen from our natural state of pure non-dual self-consciousness by imagining itself to be a body, and he can be killed only by our scrutinising him to know who he really is. When we thus investigate ‘who (or what) is this evil ego?’ and thereby destroy it, we will remain as the victorious Narayana (God), the slayer of Narakasura. This slaying of Narakasura is the significance of Naraka Chaturdasi, and our subsequent shining as Narayana, who is our own real self, is what is symbolised by Deepavali, the festival of the ‘array of lights’.

Verses 4 and 5 (which are included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verses 603-a and b [the fourth and fifth verses in the appendix of our English translation]) were composed by Sri Ramana in 1912 on the day that his devotees first decided to celebrate his jayanti (birthday).

In verse 4 he addresses those who thus wanted to celebrate the birthday of his body as a great festival, asking them what our real birthday is, and answering that it is only that day on which — by carefully investigating ‘where [or how] were we born?’ — we are born in பொருள் (porul), the true substance, essence or reality, which always shines as one (the one non-dual and only existing reality) without being born or dying (and without any other form of duality).

In verse 5 he says that knowing self and thereby subsiding (sinking, dissolving or ceasing to exist) — having discriminated, ‘Instead of lamenting about [my] birth at least on [my] birthday, cherishing [or celebrating] [my] birthday as a festivity is [like] cherishing [or celebrating] a dead corpse by decorating it’ — alone is true knowledge (or wisdom).

In verse 6 (which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 492-a [the third verse in the appendix of our English translation]) he writes as the stomach making a complaint to ‘my very evil [or misery-inflicting] soul’, saying that ‘you do not give me rest for even one nazhigai [twenty-four minutes]’, because ‘you do not cease eating for even one nazhigai in a day’, and that ‘you never know my suffering’, so ‘living with you is difficult’.

He composed this verse in 1929 on Chitra purnima (full moon in April-May), when, after eating a sumptuous meal, a devotee quoted a Tamil verse by Auvaiyar, in which she complains to ‘my misery-inflicting stomach’, saying that ‘if I ask [you] to forgo food for one day, you do not forgo; if I ask [you] to accept [enough food] for two days, you do not accept; you never know my suffering; living with you is difficult’. Hearing this, Sri Ramana explained that Auvaiyar’s complaint against her stomach was justified, because she was a mendicant who lived on begged food and therefore often had to survive without food, but that the same complaint was not justified when it was made by someone who had just overeaten to gratify the greed of his own mind. Therefore he adapted the verse of Auvaiyar to form this complaint made by the stomach against the greedy mind or soul.

Verse 7 (which is also verse B16 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) is a reply that Sri Ramana wrote to a question that Sri Muruganar asked him in a Tamil verse (which is now verse 815 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) about the following incident, which had happened many years earlier: One day when he was wandering alone on the northern slopes of Arunachala, Sri Ramana’s thigh accidentally brushed against a thicket in which a hornets’ nest was concealed. A swarm of angry hornets at once emerged and attacked the offending thigh, so feeling sorry for the disturbance that he had accidentally caused them, he stood still and calmly allowed them to sting his thigh to their hearts’ content.

In his verse Sri Muruganar therefore asked him why he felt repentant and allowed them to sting his thigh even though the disturbance he had caused them was not intentional, in reply to which he composed this verse asking what the nature of his mind would be (that is, how hard-hearted it would be) if it had not at least felt sorry, even though the swarming hornets stung the leg that touched and damaged their nest, causing it to become inflamed and swollen, and even though the damage he had caused was a mistake that happened unintentionally.

In verse 8 (which is an adaptation of a verse from a Sanskrit text called Sri Rama Gita, and which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 224-a [the second verse in the appendix of our English translation]) he expresses wonder at the self-delusion of siddhas (those who use siddhis or ‘supernatural powers’ to perform ‘miracles’), saying that a conjuror will delude the people of this world without himself being deluded, whereas a siddha will delude the people of this world and will himself also be deluded (believing his powers and miracles to be real).

In verse 9 (which is also verse B10 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 682 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that people who regard a (human) body, which eats pure food and transforms it into filth, as ‘I’ are worse than a pig, which eats filth. That is, though people often despise pigs because they eat excreta, Sri Ramana humbles us by saying that we are in fact even more despicable than pigs, because we imagine ourself to be this human body, which eats pure food and transforms it into excreta. In other words, identifying oneself as a body that produces excreta is worse than identifying oneself as a body that eats excreta.

In verse 10 (which is also verse B15 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 802 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that only a person who is saved (that is, liberated from the bondage of embodied existence) can save people in this world, whereas anyone else (that is, anyone who has not yet saved himself or herself yet who tries to save other people) is like the blind leading the blind. That is, just as darkness can be removed only by light, the dense darkness of our self-ignorance can only be removed by the real guru, who knows and abides as the clear light of pure self-consciousness.

In verse 11 (which is another but briefer adaptation of the same Sanskrit verse that he adapted as verse 2 of Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham, and which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1127-a) Sri Ramana says that the state (of true self-knowledge) that is attained by the means (the practice of atma-vichara) that arises clearly (within us) due to சாது உறவு (sadhu-uravu) — intimate friendship with or love for a sage who knows and abides as self — cannot be attained by (any other means such as) a preacher, sacred texts or virtuous deeds.

Verse 12 (which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1127-a) was composed by Sri Ramana on 30th July 1928, but later that day he modified the first two lines in order to pack more meaning into it, and the modified version is now included in Ulladu Narpadu as verse 13. In this original version of that verse he says that jnana (knowledge or consciousness) alone is real, and that ajnana (ignorance), which is nothing other than the jnana that sees as many (that is, the mind, which is the false consciousness that sees itself as this entire experience of duality or multiplicity), is nothing other than self (its only real substance), which is jnana, just as all the many ornaments, which are unreal (as separate forms), are not other than gold (the real substance of which they are made).

Verse 13 (which is included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 603-c) was composed by Sri Ramana in the second week of August 1927, but a year later he modified it in order to encompass in it a discussion not only of time but also of space, and the modified version is now included in Ulladu Narpadu as verse 16. In this original version of that verse he first asks the rhetorical question ‘நாம் அன்றி நாள் ஏது?’ (nam andri nal edu?), which means ‘except we, where is time?’ and which clearly implies that ‘we’ alone truly exist and that time does not actually exist. He then says ‘நாம் நம்மை நாடாது “நாம் உடல்” என்று எண்ணில், நமை நாள் உண்ணும்’ (nam nammai nadadu ‘nam udal’ endru ennil, namai nal unnum), which means ‘if — without scrutinising ourself — we think that we are a body, time will eat [devour or consume] us’, but then asks another rhetorical question, ‘are we [a] body?’, implying that we are not. He then concludes by saying that we are ‘one’ (the one non-dual immutable reality), now, in past and future times, and that therefore we — we who have eaten (devoured or consumed) time — exist.

That is, we seem to be ensnared within the limits of time only so long as we imagine ourself to be a body, but when we scrutinise ourself and discover that we are not this body but only the infinite and eternal reality that underlies and supports the appearance of this body and everything else, we will thereby consume time and remain as the one non-dual immutable reality that we always truly are.

Having thus indicated that our present confused knowledge about ourself and everything else exists only because we have not scrutinised ourself — that is, investigated who or what we really are — in verses 14 to 16 Sri Ramana discusses the actual practice of atma-vichara or ‘scrutinising ourself’.

In verse 14 (which is also verse B12 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) he rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 706 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that for people who do not abide in jnana (knowledge or consciousness), which is the sthana (place, abode or home) where ‘I’ resides, knowing in japa the sthana where para-vak (the supreme speech or word) resides is good (or suitable).

This verse, which is intended to be a concession to those who complain that they are unable to practise atma-vichara or who are strongly attached to the practice of mantra-japa (repetition of a name of God or any other sacred words), can be best be understood by considering it in the light of how Sri Ramana came to compose it, which is as follows:

On 18th November 1907 a Vedic scholar and Sanskrit poet called Kavyakantha Ganapati Sastri came to Sri Ramana and asked him what the real meaning of tapas (austerity or severe spiritual practice) is. Sri Ramana replied by remaining silent and looking at him steadily, but after fifteen minutes Ganapati Sastri asked him to reply in words. Sri Ramana then said, ‘If one observes that from which that which says “I”, “I” emerges, the mind will subside there; that alone is tapas’, but Ganapati Sastri responded by asking, ‘Is it not possible to attain that state by japa also?’ so he replied, ‘If one repeats a mantra and observes that from which the sound of that mantra emerges, the mind will subside there; that alone is tapas’.

Many years later, when discussing this incident with Sri Muruganar and other devotees, Sri Ramana explained that atma-vichara, which is the practice of observing the source from which our mind arises as ‘I’, is the only means by which we can know who or what we really are, but that if someone says that he wants to achieve self-knowledge by mantra-japa, instead of insisting that he should only practise atma-vichara, it is better to tell him to carry on with his mantra-japa but to observe the source from which the mantra-dhvani (the sound of that mantra) originates, because it originates only from the person who repeats it, so trying to observe from where it originates is a means of diverting one’s attention away from the mantra towards the ‘I’ who is repeating it. In other words, observing the source of the mantra-dhvani is the same as observing the source of the rising ‘I’ (the mind that repeats it), because the source of both is the same fundamental consciousness, which is our being ‘I’.

Sri Ramana also explained that because ‘I’ is the source of all sounds or words, it is called the para-vak or ‘supreme word’, and it is the original and foremost name of God. Therefore there is no mantra (sacred word) greater than the word ‘I’ (in whichever language it may be expressed), because unlike any other mantra, when we repeat it draws our attention directly towards its source, which is our essential self-consciousness, ‘I am’.

Sri Muruganar summarised this explanation given by Sri Ramana in verses 706 and 707 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, and then Sri Ramana rephrased the meaning of verse 706 in a more condensed manner in this verse. Therefore his intention when he composed this verse was not to suggest that japa is an alternative to atma-vichara as a means by which we can know our self, but was only to indicate that the true benefit of mantra-japa can only be achieved by observing ‘I’, the source from which the mantra-dhvani originates.

On the path of bhakti or devotion, japa or repetition of a name of God is used as a means by which we can focus our love and attention upon the thought of God, but since God is truly our own essential self, ‘I am’, the easiest and most effective means by which we can focus our love and attention upon him is the practice of atma-vichara or svarupa-smarana — self-attentiveness or self-remembrance. This truth is clearly stated by Sri Ramana in verse 15 (which is also verse B13 of Guru Vachaka Kovai), in which he rephrases in a more condensed and emphatic manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 730 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that atma-anusamdhana is parama-isa-bhakti (supreme devotion to God) because God exists as atma (our essential self).

The meaning of the Sanskrit word anusamdhana is essentially the same as that of vichara, namely investigation, enquiry, scrutiny, close inspection or deep contemplation, so atma-anusamdhana means self-scrutiny or being keenly attentive to our essential self. Such keen and vigilant self-attentiveness is possible only when we have intense and all-consuming love for self — our pure consciousness of being, ‘I am’ — which is the true form of God.

In verse 16 (which is also verse B19 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) he rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verses 957 and 958 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that in waking the state of sleep will occur by subtle investigation, which is the practice of constantly scrutinising oneself, and that until sleep shines pervading throughout both waking and dream, we should incessantly practise that subtle investigation.

This ‘state of sleep’ that will occur in waking and that will eventually pervade throughout both waking and dream when we constantly practise atma-vichara or subtle self-investigation is the state that is known as jagat-sushupti or ‘waking sleep’, which is the only real state (as Sri Ramana teaches us in verse 32 of Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham). This state is our natural state of true self-knowledge, and it is called ‘waking sleep’ because it is the state in which we are clearly conscious of (or ‘awake’ to) the only reality, ‘I am’, and completely unaware of (or ‘asleep’ to) anything other than that.

The only means by which we can experience this state of true self-knowledge is atma-vichara, the subtle practice of keenly vigilant self-attentiveness, so until we experience it we should persevere in being self-attentive as constantly as possible. As Sri Ramana says in the tenth and eleventh paragraphs of Nan Yar? (Who am I?):

... without giving room to even [the slightest] thought, one should persistently cling fast to svarupa-dhyana [self-contemplation]. ...

... If one clings fast to uninterrupted svarupa-smarana [self-remembrance] until one attains svarupa [one’s own essential self], that alone [will be] sufficient. ...

In verses 17 to 23 Sri Ramana states some truths about the state of attainment of true self-knowledge.

In July 1948 Sri Ramana translated the sixty-eight verses of Sri Adi Sankara’s Atma-Bodha into Tamil in verse form, and though he translated all the other verses in venba metre, he translated the last verse at first in a six-foot viruttam metre, but later recomposed it as a six-line pakrodai venba in order to make it conform metrically with all the other verses. The pakrodai venba version is now the final verse of his translation of Atma-Bodha, and the original viruttam version is verse 17 of Upadesa Tanippakkal (and is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 227-a).

In this verse he says that whoever bathes without action in atma-tirtha (the holy waters of self), which shines abundantly as unblemished nityananda (eternal happiness), which is untouched by (any limitation such as) direction, time, place and so on, pervading everywhere and bereft of (any physical sensation such as) cold and so on, that firm (or steady) person (the person who is thus firmly established in self) is omnipresent, omniscient and immortal.

The state that is described here as ‘bathing without action in atma-tirtha’ is the state of firm self-abidance, which Sri Ramana describes in verse 4 of Anma-Viddai as ‘settling down and just being without the slightest action (karma) of speech, mind or body’ and which we can achieve only by focusing our entire attention upon our essential self-consciousness, ‘I am’, thereby excluding all thought about anything else.

In verse 18 (which was composed on 28th May 1944 and which is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1027-a) Sri Ramana reiterates the same truth that he stated in verse 28 of Upadesa Undiyar, namely that if we know our ‘true form’ (our real nature) in our heart, we will know ourself to be sat-chit-ananda (being-consciousness-bliss), which is fullness (or infinite wholeness) without beginning or end.

In verse 19 (which is also verse B6 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) he rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 216 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, saying that only that which is experienced as santi (peace) in the state of introversion is that which appears as sakti (power) in the state of extroversion, and that to those who have investigated and known (the reality) they are one.

That is, as Sri Sadhu Om explains in his Tamil commentary on this verse, our real self, which is sat-chit-ananda (being-consciousness-bliss), is the fullness of both infinite peace and infinite power. When our mind turns within and merges in self, it experiences itself as the ocean of infinite peace, but when it rises and rushes outside towards the world of thoughts and sense perceptions, its own essential self appears to be God, the supreme power that creates, sustains and dissolves this world. Hence for those who know and abide eternally as self, peace and power are one, being both nothing other than self. Therefore all the many different kinds of power that are seen in this world are in truth only an infinitesimal reflection of the infinite ocean of peace that a mey-jnani (one who knows and abides as the reality) experiences as his true nature.

Verse 20 (which is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1147-a) consists of a metaphorical statement made by a devotee named K. V. Ramachandran and the equally metaphorical reply given by Sri Ramana. One day when they were walking together on Arunachala hill they saw a bird being caught in a net by a hunter, whereupon Ramachandran composed a kural venba (a two-line form of a venba) in which he said, ‘If a dove that is caught in the hand of a hunter is released, it will escape [or go away] even from the forest’, implying that if a person is liberated from the bondage of maya or self-delusion, he or she will depart from his or her body.

Sri Ramana replied by extending the second line and adding two more lines to this verse, thus transforming it into a venba (a four-line verse in a particular metre), in which he said, ‘If [you] say thus, [the reply is that] when the hunter seeking [or desiring to go] home departs elsewhere [leaving the bird], even the forest, which was alien, will end as home’, implying that when the mind, which is maya, seeks its original abode by scrutinising itself and thereby departs (or ceases to exist), even the body, which we previously considered to be an alien object (something other than our real ‘I’), will be recognised as being nothing other than our real self.

That is, so long as we are seeking to know ourself as we really are, we have to consider our body to be an alien object (because we cannot know the real nature of ‘I’ so long as we experience this body as ‘I’), but as soon as we know ourself as we really are, we will recognise that this mind, body and world are all nothing other than ‘I’, which is the sole reality (just as the imaginary snake is nothing other than the rope, which alone is real). Therefore when a person experiences true self-knowledge, his or her body does not necessarily die or cease to exist, but will continue to live (at least in the view of those who do not know self) until the prarabdha or destiny that brought it into existence has been completed.

In verse 21 (which is also verse B24 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 1148 of Guru Vachaka Kovai (which is an adaptation of Srimad Bhagavatam 11.13.36, a verse that he sometimes cited and explained), saying that whether the impermanent body is settled (inactive or asleep) or risen (active or awake), whether it is present (living) or has departed (died), a sage who knows self does not know the body, just as a person blinded by alcohol intoxication does not know the fine cloth (whether it is still on or has slipped off his body).

That is, the body of a sage who knows self seems to exist only in the view of those who do not know self, because in the absolutely clear perspective of true self-knowledge only the one infinite and formless self exists. Since the body and everything else except self is a mere imagination, it is known only by the imagining mind (which is itself just an unreal imagination) and not by the non-dual real self. Therefore the sage or jnani knows neither the body nor the world, nor anything else except self, the pure and infinite non-dual consciousness of being, ‘I am’.

In verse 22 (which is a condensed adaptation of Prabhulinga Lilai 12.11, and which is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1141-a) he says that just as we would discard a leaf plate after eating the food served on it, so one who has seen (or experienced) self will discard the body. That is, the only purpose of our body is to serve as a plate from which we should eat the sumptuous feast of true self-knowledge by constantly practising vigilant self-attentiveness, and once this purpose has been served, we will happily discard it.

In verse 23 (which is also verse B26 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 1166 of Guru Vachaka Kovai (which is an adaptation of Bhagavad Gita 4.22, a verse that he sometimes cited and explained and that he later translated again as verse 40 of Bhagavad Gita Saram), saying that an equanimous person who experiences happiness in whatever happens (according to prarabdha or destiny), who has put an end to jealousy, and who has discarded dvandvas (all pairs of opposites), is devoid of bondage (the bondage of karma, action or ‘doing’) even though doing.

That is, even though such a perfectly equanimous sage may appear to be doing actions of mind, speech and body such as thinking, talking, walking and eating, he or she does not in fact do anything, because he experiences himself as the one infinite self-consciousness, ‘I am’, which never does anything but just is, and not as the body and mind, which are the instruments that do action.

In verse 24 (which is also verse B28 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 1227 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, which is an adaptation of the following Sanskrit verse, which he often cited and explained:

na nirodho na chotpattir na baddho na cha sadhakah |
na mumukshur na vai mukta ity esha paramarthata ||

This verse, which occurs in several ancient texts such as Amritabindu Upanishad verse 10, Atmopanishad verse 31, Avadhutopanishad verse 8, Mandukya Karikas 2.32 and Vivekachudamani verse 574, means:

[There is] no nirodha [stopping, ending or destruction] and no utpatti [arising, origination, birth, production or creation], no baddha [person who is bound] and no sadhaka [person doing spiritual practice], no mumukshu [person seeking liberation] and even no mukta [person who is liberated] — thus is paramartha [the supreme or ultimate truth].

In his prose translation of Vivekachudamani Sri Ramana has translated this verse literally thus, and in verse 24 of Upadesa Tanippakkal he has translated it more freely as:

[There is] no becoming [or coming into being], destruction, bondage, desire to become free [or unbound], effort [or] those who have attained [liberation]. Know that this is paramartha [the ultimate truth].

Creation and destruction, birth and death, beginning and end, bondage and liberation, desire for liberation and effort to be liberated, and any person who experiences such things, all exist only in the distorted consciousness that we call ‘mind’, and hence they are only as real as this mind that experiences them. However, as Sri Ramana teaches us in verse 17 of Upadesa Undiyar, when we vigilantly scrutinise this mind, we will find that there is actually no such thing, and therefore when we thus know that the mind has never really existed, we will also clearly know that none of the duality, multiplicity or otherness that it seemed to experience ever really existed.

Thus when we know ourself as we really are — that is, when we know that we are always nothing other than the one infinite non-dual self-consciousness, ‘I am’, and that we have never really been this mind that we now imagine ourself to be — we will clearly know that nothing other than ourself has ever existed or even appeared to exist. This ultimate experience of absolute non-duality is known as ajata — ‘no birth’, ‘no arising’, ‘no becoming’, ‘no happening’, ‘no appearing’, ‘no being brought into being’ or ‘no creation’.

This experience of ajata is a truth that cannot truly be grasped by our mind or intellect, which appears to exist only by experiencing duality, but it can be known clearly and certainly if we investigate the truth of our knowing mind by turning its attention back on itself, away from all duality or otherness towards the one consciousness that we always experience as ‘I am’.

In the final three verses of Upadesa Tanippakkal Sri Ramana turns our attention towards mauna or ‘silence’, which is the true language of non-duality and which is the only means by which we can experience reality as it is. In this context mauna means absolute silence or stillness of mind, which is itself the one reality that it alone can reveal.

In verse 25 (which is also verse B27 of Guru Vachaka Kovai) Sri Ramana rephrases in a more condensed manner the truth that Sri Muruganar recorded in verse 1181 of Guru Vachaka Kovai (which is an adaptation of Panchadasi 2.39, a verse that he sometimes cited and explained), saying that questions and answers can occur only in this language of duality (dvaita), and that in the true state of non-duality (advaita) they do not exist.

Thus he indicates that in order to experience our true state of advaita or absolute non-duality we must go beyond our habit of asking verbal questions and seeking verbal answers. The only ‘question’ that will enable us to experience the non-dual reality directly is the non-verbal investigation ‘who am I?’ — that is, the thought-free inward scrutiny of our fundamental consciousness of being, ‘I am’.

Such thought-free self-investigation or atma-vichara is ‘questioning’ in silence, which is the true language of non-duality, and the ‘answer’ that this silent questioning will evoke is likewise only absolute silence or mauna, which is the true nature of our real self.

In verse 26 (which is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1172-a) he begins by saying that that which is அக்கரம் (akkaram) is ஓர் எழுத்து (or ezhuttu), the ‘one [unique or peerless] letter’. அக்கரம் (akkaram) is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit word akshara, which means both ‘imperishable’ (or ‘immutable’) and a ‘letter’ of the alphabet (or a ‘syllable’ written as a compound letter, such as the sacred syllable ‘om’), so the implied meaning of this first sentence is that the ‘one letter’ is that which is imperishable and immutable — that is, the one eternal, imperishable and immutable reality, which is our own essential self, ‘I am’.

In the second and third sentences of this verses he says that ‘you want [me] to write that which is one letter (akshara) in this book’ and that the ‘one letter (ezhuttu), which is imperishable (akshara), is that which always shines spontaneously [or as self] in the heart’, and in the final sentence he asks rhetorically, ‘Who is able to write it?’, implying that it cannot be written by anyone.

The origin of this verse is as follows: On 30th September 1937 a devotee called Somasundara Swami asked Sri Ramana to write ‘one letter’ in his notebook, and he responded by writing a kural venba (a two-line verse in venba style) that means:

One [unique or peerless] letter (or ezhuttu) is that which always shines spontaneously [or as self] in the heart. Who is able to write it?

Sri Ramana later explained more about the nature of this ‘one letter’, and Sri Muruganar recorded his explanation in verse 1172 of Guru Vachaka Kovai, in which he incorporated this kural venba as the last two lines:

One letter is that which always shines spontaneously [or as self] in the heart as that which is [absolutely] pure, as that which bestows the clarity of true knowledge, and as the source of all the letters that are formed [or appear as sounds or symbols]. Who is able to write it?

Sri Ramana also translated this kural venba into Sanskrit as follows:

ekam aksharam hridi nirantaram |
bhasate svayam likhyate katham ||

This Sanskrit version means:

One letter shines incessantly [and] spontaneously in the heart. How is it to be written?

On 21st September 1940, three years after he composed this kural venba, he added two lines before it to form this venba, verse 26 of Upadesa Tanippakkal, in which he emphasised that this ‘one letter’ is that which is imperishable and also indicated why he composed this verse, saying ‘you want [me] to write that which is one letter in this book’.

This imperishable ‘one letter’, which ‘always shines in [our] heart as self’ and which ‘bestows the clarity of true knowledge’, is mauna or ‘silence’, the peerless language that alone will enable us to experience ourself as we really are.

Finally in verse 27 (which is also included in Guru Vachaka Kovai as verse 1172-a), a one-line verse that he composed after seeing an English article that a devotee wrote about him entitled ‘Where Silence is an Inspired Sermon’, he says:

Silence (mauna) is indeed the state of grace, the one [unique or
peerless] language that rises [surges forth or manifests] within.

As Sri Sadhu Om says in his Tamil commentary on this verse, though the aforesaid ‘one letter’ that ‘always shines in [our] heart as self’ cannot be made known by speech or writing, it is possible for us to experience it directly, because it is the true form of grace, and hence its nature is to make itself known. How it does so is as follows:

The more our heart becomes spiritually matured, being purified or cleansed of all its vishaya-vasanas (its desires or outgoing impulses), the more the clear light of grace will ‘rise’ or shine forth as an inner clarity of firm satya-asatya vastu viveka (true discrimination or discernment, which is the ability to distinguish what is real from what is unreal), as a result of which we will gain intense bhakti (devotion or love to know and to be only self, which alone is real and which is the sole abode of all happiness) and steadfast vairagya (freedom from desire to attend to or experience anything other than self). Since such bhakti and vairagya will enable and impel us to abide firmly as self, ‘settling down and just being without the slightest action (karma) of speech, mind or body’, the atma-jyoti or infinite light of true self-knowledge will thereby spontaneously shine forth in our heart as our nitya-anubhuti or ‘eternal experience’ (as Sri Ramana says in verse 4 of Anma-Viddai).

Thus grace, which at first began to rise as the clarity of viveka or discrimination, will finally blossom fully as the infinite light of atma-jnana or true self-knowledge. This blossoming is what Sri Ramana describes as அருள் விலாசமே (arul vilasame), the ‘shining forth of grace’, in verse 3 of Anma-Viddai.

Since the light of grace that thus wells up in our heart will bestow the state of true self-knowledge, which cannot be made known by words, it is the peerless language that Sri Ramana describes in verse 26 as ஓர் எழுத்து (or ezhuttu), the ‘one [unique or peerless] letter’, and in this verse as ஒரு மொழி (oru mozhi), the ‘one [unique or peerless] language’. Since this light of grace shines transcending all the various kinds of gross and subtle sounds and lights that our mind can perceive, it is called mauna or ‘silence’.

As Sri Ramana says in Maharshi’s Gospel, Book One, chapter 2:

That state which transcends speech and thought is mauna [silence]; ... it is the perennial flow of ‘language’. ... Silence is unceasing eloquence. It is the best language. ... how does speech arise? There is abstract knowledge [the knowledge ‘I am’ — our fundamental consciousness of being, which is ever motionless and unchanging and is therefore called ‘silence’], whence arises the ego [the spurious consciousness ‘I am this body, a person called so-and-so’], which in turn gives rise to thought, and thought to the spoken word. So the word is the great-grandson of the original source [our silent consciousness ‘I am’]. If the word can produce effect, judge for yourself how much more powerful must be the preaching through silence! ... Preaching is simple communication of knowledge; it can really be done in silence only. ...

Since this unsurpassed language of non-duality (advaita-bhasha) called mauna or ‘silence’ surges forth in our heart by its avyaja-karuna (pretextless or uncaused grace) as the infinite light of true self-knowledge, tearing aside the darkness of self-ignorance that gives rise to our mind, it is truly அருள் நிலையே (arul nilaiye), the ‘state [or real nature] of grace’, as Sri Ramana declares in this verse.

Anma-Viddai (Atma-Vidya) – an explanatory paraphrase

In continuation of my previous five articles, which were explanatory paraphrases of Upadesa Undiyar, Ulladu Narpadu, Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham, Ekatma Panchakam and Appala Pattu, the following is the sixth of seven extracts from the introductory page that I have drafted for Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai:

ஆன்ம வித்தை (Anma-Viddai), the ‘Science of Self’, also known as Atma-Vidya Kirtanam, the ‘Song on the Science of Self’, is a Tamil song that Sri Ramana composed on 24th April 1927 in answer to the request of Sri Muruganar.

That is, Sri Muruganar composed the pallavi and anupallavi (refrain and sub-refrain) of a kirtana (song), in which he said that atma-vidya (the science and art of self-knowledge) is extremely easy, and he then asked Sri Ramana to complete the kirtana by composing the charanas (verses). Sri Ramana accordingly composed the charanas, in which he emphatically confirmed the truth that atma-vidya is extremely easy.

The title of this song, ஆன்மவித்தை (anma-viddai), is a Tamil form the Sanskrit term atma-vidya, which is a compound of two words: atman, which means ‘self’, and vidya, which means ‘knowledge’, ‘science’, ‘philosophy’ or ‘art’. Thus atma-vidya (or anma-viddai) means the ‘science of self’ — that is, the science and art of true self-knowledge, the practice of which is called atma-vichara or ‘self-investigation’.

In the pallavi or refrain (which completes the meaning of the anupallavi and each of the four verses) Sri Muruganar says, ‘Ah [what a wonder], atma-vidya is extremely easy, ah, [so] extremely easy!’ and in the anupallavi or sub-refrain he says that self (‘I am’) is so very real even to simple-minded people that in comparison even an amalaka fruit in our palm is unreal. That is, nothing is so clear, self-evident and obviously real as ourself, our fundamental consciousness of being, ‘I am’.

In verse 1 Sri Ramana says that though self is always imperishably (indubitably or unforgettably) real, the body and world, which are in fact unreal, sprout up and appear as real; but that when mind (or thought), which is composed of unreal darkness (the darkness of self-ignorance), is dissolved in such a manner that not even a trace of it survives, self, which is the real sun (of pure self-consciousness), will shine forth spontaneously in the space of our heart, the darkness (of self-ignorance) will disappear, suffering will cease and happiness will surge up.

That is, the cause of the unreal appearance of our body and this world, and of the suffering that always follows in their wake, is only our mind, which is the embodiment of self-ignorance — the imaginary darkness in which it arises. Therefore, when this mind is dissolved in the clear light of pure self-consciousness — like darkness in the bright light of the sun — the body, the world and the suffering that they cause will all cease to exist, and only perfect happiness will remain.

In verse 2 he says that since the thought ‘this body composed of flesh is certainly I’ is the one string on which all our other various thoughts are strung, if we penetrate within ourself by scrutinising ‘who am I?’ or ‘what is the place [the source or ground from which this false ‘I’ rises]?’, all thoughts will disappear and self-knowledge (atma-jnana) will shine forth spontaneously as ‘I [am only] I’ within the cave (of our heart), and he declares that this self-knowledge alone is silence (mauna), the ‘one space’ (the non-dual space of infinite being-consciousness) and the abode of bliss.

That is, since other thoughts can arise only after our primal thought ‘I am this body’ has arisen (because this primal thought is the false ‘I’ that thinks all other thoughts), and since this primal thought can rise and stand only by thinking those other thoughts, when — instead of thinking any other thought — it attends only to itself in order to know ‘who am I?’, it will subside and dissolve in the source from which it has arisen (which is our real ‘I’), and hence all other thoughts will disappear along with it. What will then remain is only pure self-consciousness, the clear knowledge that ‘I am only I’, which is the state of absolute silence — complete absence of the ever-chattering mind — and therefore the infinite abode of true happiness.

In verse 3 he asks us what use it is if we know anything else but do not know ourself, and what there is to know if we have known self (since everything else will cease to exist when we know ourself as we really are and thereby destroy the illusion of our mind and everything that it appears to know). He then says that when we know within ourself the one real self, which clearly shines without any difference in all the different souls (or living beings), the bright light of self (atma-prakasa) will flash forth within ourself, and that this is the shining forth of grace, the destruction of ‘I’ (the mind or ego) and the blossoming of true happiness.

In verse 4 he says that for the bonds of action (karma) and so on (that is, action and objective knowledge or experience) to be untied and for the destruction of birth and so on (that is, bodily birth, life and death) to occur, rather than any other path (or means), this path (of knowing self) is extremely easy. He then explain what ‘this path’ is and why it is so very easy, saying that when we settle down and just be, without the least action (karma) of speech, mind or body, ah, the light of self (atma-jyoti) in our heart will be our eternal experience, fear will not exist, and the ocean of happiness alone will remain.

That is, since this path of atma-vichara or scrutinising and knowing ourself does not involve even the least action of our mind, speech or body, but is simply the state in which our mind subsides and remains as it really is — that is, as simple non-dual thought-free self-conscious being, ‘I am’ — it is infinitely easier than any other spiritual practice, all of which involve some form of action of our mind, speech or body. What can be easier than just being?

Since our being is always self-conscious, in order to know ourself all that is required is that we just be — that is, just remain as we really are, clearly and exclusively self-conscious, thereby excluding all thoughts and all actions (which are actually just thoughts). Therefore knowing and being our real self is ‘extremely easy, ah, [so] extremely easy!’ This is the decided conclusion that Sri Ramana knew from his own experience.

Finally in verse 5 he says that ‘in the ullam [heart or mind] that scrutinises [itself] within [by just being] as it is, without thinking anything else’, self — which is called Annamalai (an alternative name of Arunachala, which in this context means ‘God’), and which is the one porul (substance, essence or reality) that shines as the ‘space even to the mind-space’ (that is, as the fundamental space of consciousness in which the ‘space’ of our mind is contained) and as the ‘eye even to the mind-eye, which is the eye even to the [five physical] senses beginning with the eye, which illumine [the five physical elements] beginning with space’ — will be seen. He then adds that ‘grace is also needed’ (in order for us just to be and thereby to experience self as it really is) and therefore advises us to ‘have love’ (that is, to have love for just being, which is the true form of grace), and concludes by saying that ‘happiness will [thereby] arise’.

Thus in this verse Sri Ramana once again emphasises that the easiest — and indeed the only — means by which we can experience ourself as we really are is just to be as we really are by inwardly scrutinising ourself and thereby excluding all other thoughts, and he also emphasises that we can experience this state of ‘just being as we are’ only if we have all-consuming love for it.

Appala Pattu – an explanatory paraphrase

In continuation of my previous four articles, which were explanatory paraphrases of Upadesa Undiyar, Ulladu Narpadu, Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham and Ekatma Panchakam, the following is the fifth of seven extracts from the introductory page that I have drafted for Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai:

அப்பளப் பாட்டு (Appala-p-pattu), the ‘Appalam Song’, is a Tamil song that Sri Ramana composed for his mother one day in about 1914 or 1915, when she asked him to help her make some appalams (a thin crisp wafer made of gram flour and other ingredients, also known as parpata, pappadam, poppadum or pappad, which can either be fried or toasted over a naked flame or in hot embers). He responded by composing this song, in which he compares each of the ingredients, implements and actions required to make an appalam to the qualities and practices required for us to experience true self-knowledge.

In the pallavi or refrain (which completes the meaning of the anupallavi and each of the four verses) he simply says, ‘Making appalam, see; eating it, fulfil [or destroy] your desire’. The appalam that he asks us to prepare is the appalam of true self-knowledge, and what he asks us to see is who we really are. By eating this appalam — that is, by experiencing true self-knowledge — we will satisfy our hunger for infinite happiness, and thus we will destroy all our other desires, which are all just distorted forms of our fundamental desire for real happiness.

In the anupallavi or sub-refrain he says that, instead of wandering in this material world craving the fulfilment of other desires, we should satisfy our hunger for real happiness by preparing and eating the appalam of true self-knowledge in accordance with ‘the unequalled and unsurpassed one [non-dual] language’, which is the tattva or reality that the sadguru (the guru who teaches sat, being or reality), who is sat-bhoda-sukha (being-consciousness-bliss, or the happiness of true knowledge), said without saying. The sadguru whom Sri Ramana refers to here is the primal guru Dakshinamurti, and the ‘unequalled and unsurpassed one language’ that he ‘said without saying’ is silence, which is the true language of non-duality.

In verse 1 he begins to explain how we should make the appalam of true self-knowledge, saying that we should break up black gram, which is the pride ‘I’ that grows in the field of five sheaths (the body, life, mind, intellect and the underlying self-ignorance), which are not self, reducing it to powder as ‘not I’ in the hand-mill, which is the jnana-vichara (knowledge-investigation) ‘who am I?’.

That is, our ego, which rises in this body as ‘I am this’ and which Sri Ramana therefore describes as “the pride ‘I’ that grows in the field of five sheaths”, is compared to black gram, which is the principal ingredient in an appalam, and the practice of jnana-vichara — investigating what our fundamental knowledge ‘I am’ really is — is compared to the hand-mill in which we should break up this ego, reducing it to powder as ‘not I’.

In verse 2 he says that we should blend the following ingredients with the pulverised black gram: the juice of square-stalked vine, which is sat-sanga (clinging to being, or to one who knows and abides as being); cumin, which is sama (equanimity, tranquillity or calmness); pepper, which is dama (self-restraint); salt, which is uparati (cessation, which means renunciation of worldly desires and refraining from indulgence in sensual enjoyments and worldly actions); and asafoetida, which is good vasana (propensity, inclination, impulsion or desire) in the heart (or mind).

In this context உள்ள நல் வாசனை (ulla nal vasanai) or the ‘inner good vasana’ means the sat-vasana, the desire or inclination just to be, which alone can root out all our karma-vasanas, our desires to be active.

Having thus described the ingredients and their initial preparation in verses 1 and 2, in verses 3 and 4 Sri Ramana describes the process of cooking the appalam of true self-knowledge.

In verse 3 he says that in the mortar of our heart we should unceasingly and without agitation (or confusion) pound the blended ingredients with the pestle of ul-mukham (introversion or ‘facing inwards’) as ‘I [am only] I’, and then on the board, which is sama (‘evenness’ or ‘levelness’ of mind, that is, samadhi), with the rolling-pin, which is peace, we should continuously, joyfully and without calippu (weariness, pramada or self-negligence) satisfy our desire by preparing and eating the appalam of true self-knowledge.

In verse 4 he says that — in order to experience ourself as தானே தான் (tane tan), ‘self alone [is] self’ (or ‘only I [am] I’) — in the endless (infinite and eternal) pan, which is mauna-mudra (the seal, stamp or mark of silence), in the excellent ghee (or clarified butter) of brahman (the absolute reality), which is heated by jnanagni (the fire of true knowledge), we should always fry (the appalam of self-knowledge) as ‘I [am] that [brahman]’, and should thereby satisfy our desire by preparing and eating the tanmaya-appalam (the appalam that is composed of tat or ‘that’, the one absolute reality called brahman).

Ekatma Panchakam – an explanatory paraphrase

In continuation of my previous three articles, Upadesa Undiyar – an explanatory paraphrase, Ulladu Narpadu – an explanatory paraphrase and Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham – an explanatory paraphrase, the following is the fourth of seven extracts from the introductory page that I have drafted for Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai:

ஏகான்ம பஞ்சகம் (Ekanma Panchakam), the ‘Five Verses on the Oneness of Self’, is a poem that Sri Ramana composed in February 1947, first in Telugu, then in Tamil, and later in Malayalam.

The word ஆன்மா (anma) is a Tamil form the Sanskrit word atman, which means ‘self’, and hence in the title ஏகான்ம பஞ்சகம் (Ekanma Panchakam) the compound word ஏகான்ம (ekanma) means ‘the one self’, ‘self, the one’ or (by implication) ‘the oneness of self’, and பஞ்சகம் (panchakam) means a ‘set of five [verses]’. Thus this title implies not only that self is only one (and not many), but also that self is the only one (that is, the only one existing reality), which is the true import of this poem, since in verse 5 Sri Ramana clearly states that self is the only ever-existing and self-shining reality.

Like Ulladu Narpadu and many of his other works, Sri Ramana composed Ekatma Panchakam in venba metre, and he later linked the five verses together as a single verse in kalivenba metre by lengthening the third foot of the fourth line of each verse and adding a fourth foot. This kalivenba version of Ekatma Panchakam is called ஏகான்ம விவேகம் (Ekanma Vivekam), ‘Discernment the Oneness of Self’, and an English translation and brief commentary upon it by Sri Sadhu Om and me was published on pages 7 to 12 of the January 1982 issue of The Mountain Path, and in May 2009 I posted a copy of it in my blog under the title Ekatma Vivekam – the kalivenba version of Ekatma Panchakam.

In verse 1 he says that having previously forgotten our real self, having imagined a body to be ourself, and having thereby taken innumerable births, our finally knowing and being our real self is just like waking from a dream of wandering about the world.

That is, our present so-called waking life is in fact nothing but one of the many dreams that we experience in our long sleep of self-forgetfulness — self-ignorance or seeming lack of clarity of self-consciousness (a lack of clarity that is characterised by our knowing clearly that we are, but not what we are). Therefore, when — by the practice of atma-vichara or keen self-scrutiny — we experience ourself as we really are and thereby awaken from this underlying sleep of self-forgetfulness, our present life as a finite individual will dissolve completely, along with all the other such lives that we have ever lived, just as all our dreams are dissolved when we wake up from sleep.

In verse 2 he says that a person who asks himself ‘who am I?’ or ‘what is the place in which I exist?’, even though we always exist as our real self, is equal to a drunkard who asks himself ‘who am I?’ or ‘where am I?’.

This verse is not intended to ridicule those who practise atma-vichara correctly, penetrating deep within themselves by focusing their entire attention upon their fundamental consciousness of being, ‘I am’, but ridicules only those who float on the surface of their mind among the waves of thoughts, continuously asking themselves questions such as ‘who am I?’ or ‘whence am I?’ instead of ignoring all thoughts by concentrating their attention on the ‘I’ who is thinking them.

Sri Ramana sometimes described the practice of atma-vichara or ‘self-investigation’ as the investigation ‘who am I?’ or ‘whence am I?’ because it is the effort that we make to scrutinise ourself in order to know what we really are and from which source we have arisen as this thinking mind. He also suggested that we could use questions such as ‘to whom do these thoughts occur?’ or ‘who thinks these thoughts?’ as a means to divert our attention away from all other thoughts towards the consciousness ‘I’ that thinks and knows them.

However, he also clearly explained that keenly vigilant self-attentiveness alone is the correct practice of atma-vichara, and that these questions are just an aid that we can use to regain such self-attentiveness, which is our natural state of clear self-conscious being. Therefore he composed this verse in order to emphasise that we should not blindly ask these questions like a drunkard, but should only ask them as a means to focus our entire attention upon our fundamental consciousness ‘I’.

Another misconception that some people have about the practice of atma-vichara is that it is either an exercise of concentrating our attention upon the right-side of our chest — which is said to be the location of our ‘heart’ (our innermost core or real self) in our body — or an exercise of imagining that we are ‘diving into’ or ‘entering’ this point in our body. Therefore, in order to remove this misconception and to clarify that meditating upon the right-side of our chest or any other point in our body is not svarupa-dhyana or meditation upon self, in verse 3 he says that when our body is actually in self, which is being-consciousness-bliss (sat-chit-ananda), a person who imagines that self is located in this non-conscious body is like a person who imagines that the cloth screen that supports a cinema picture is within that picture.

That is, just as the cinema screen is the underlying base or background upon which a cinema picture appears, so self is the adhara or underlying reality in which our body and everything else appears. Therefore it is only because of our deeply rooted self-forgetfulness or self-ignorance that we not only experience ourself as existing within the confines of this body, but also experience this body as ‘I’.

Since the purpose of atma-vichara is to enable us to know ourself as we really are and thereby to destroy the self-ignorance that makes us experience ourself as being limited within this body, meditating upon any point within this body imagining that that is the location of our real self cannot be the correct practice of atma-vichara. Since our body is only an imagination — a thought that exists only in our own mind, like the body that we experience as ‘I’ in a dream — it appears to exist and to be ourself only because we attend to it, so if we meditate upon it in any way, we will sustain its unreal appearance and thereby perpetuate the self-ignorance that gives rise to it. Therefore, in order to know ourself as we really are, we must withdraw our attention completely from this body and from every other thought or object by focusing it exclusively upon ‘I’, our essential consciousness of our own being.

Our real self is not only the adhara — the support, substratum, ground or foundation — of our body, but is also the sole vastu — substance or essence — of which it and everything else is made. This truth is clearly stated by Sri Ramana in verse 4, in which he asks two rhetorical questions that imply that just as an ornament is not other than gold, the vastu or substance of which it is made, so the body is not other than self. He then concludes this verse by saying that a person who thinks himself or herself to be a body is an ajnani (someone who does not know self), whereas one who takes himself or herself to be self is a jnani who has known self.

That is, our real self, which is the pure non-dual consciousness of being, ‘I am’, is the only real substance that appears as our mind, the false thinking and object-knowing consciousness that experiences itself as ‘I am this body’, and this mind in turn is the substance that appears as everything else that we know. Nothing exists except in our consciousness, because everything is just a thought that our consciousness has formed within itself — and of its substance.

The consciousness that thus forms itself into thoughts — which include all the objects that it knows — is our mind, and this mind is in turn just a limited and distorted form of our original self-consciousness, ‘I am’. Therefore, just gold is the one substance that appears as all the various gold ornaments, so consciousness, our real self, is the one substance that appears as our mind, our body and everything else that we experience.

Thus, though our body is in reality nothing other than our real self, so long we experience it as a finite form and not as the one consciousness that it really is, our experience of it as ‘I’ is ignorance or ajnana. Therefore, as Sri Ramana teaches us in verse 17 of Ulladu Narpadu, a person who experiences ‘I’ as being only the limited form of this body is an ajnani (someone who ignorant of his or her real self), whereas anyone who experiences themself as self, the formless and therefore unlimited consciousness that is the only real substance of the body and everything else, is a jnani (someone who experiences themself as they really are).

This one real self, which is the sole substance of everything, is the only thing that always exists and that knows itself by its own light of consciousness, as Sri Ramana teaches us in the first line of verse 5 and in the preceding ‘link words’ of the kalivenba version, ‘தனது ஒளியால் எப்போதும் உள்ளது அவ்வேகான்ம வத்துவே’ (tanadu oliyal eppodum ulladu a-vv-ekanma vattuve), which means, ‘That which always exists by its own light is only that ekatma-vastu [the one substance, which is self]’.

Since self is thus the only existing reality, there is truly nothing that is other than it, so it cannot be made known by words. Therefore in the last three lines of this final verse Sri Ramana asks rhetorically who can reveal this real substance by ‘saying’ (that is, by spoken or written words), when in ancient times even the primal guru Dakshinamurti was able to reveal it only by ‘saying without saying’ (that is, by just being silent).

That is, the real nature of the one self is ineffable, because it could be made known by words only if there were at least two distinct people, a guru to teach it and a disciple to understand it, but since there is nothing other than self, who is to make it known to whom? Therefore we can know it as it really is only by merging and losing ourself in infinite silence — the silence of clear thought-free being — which is its true nature.

Ulladu Narpadu Anubandham – an explanatory paraphrase

In continuation of my previous two articles, Upadesa Undiyar – an explanatory paraphrase and Ulladu Narpadu – an explanatory paraphrase, the following is the third of seven extracts from the introductory page that I have drafted for Sri Ramanopadesa Noonmalai:

உள்ளது நாற்பது – அனுபந்தம் (Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham), the ‘Supplement to Forty [Verses] on That Which Is’, is a collection of forty-one Tamil verses that Sri Ramana composed at various times during the 1920’s and 1930’s.

The formation of this work began on 21st July 1928, when Sri Muruganar asked Sri Ramana to write a text to ‘reveal to us the nature of reality and the means by which we can attain it so that we may be saved’ (மெய்யின் இயல்பும் அதை மேவும் திறனும் எமக்கு உய்யும்படி ஓதுக [meyyin iyalbum atai mevum tiranum emakku uyyumpadi oduka], which are words that Sri Muruganar records in his payiram or prefatory verse to Ulladu Narpadu). At that time Sri Muruganar had collected twenty-one verses that Sri Ramana had composed at various times, and he suggested that these could form the basis of such a text.

Over the next two to three weeks Sri Ramana discussed many ideas with Sri Muruganar and composed about forty new verses. As he composed them, he and Sri Muruganar arranged them in order, and while doing so they decided that for one reason or another most of the previously existing twenty-one verses were not suitable to include in the text that he was writing.

In the end, they decided to include in Ulladu Narpadu only three of the original twenty-one verses, namely verses 16, 37 and 40 of Ulladu Narpadu. Of these three, verse 16 was not actually included in its original form, which Sri Ramana had composed in August 1927 (and which is now included in Upadesa Tanippakkal as verse 13, a translation of which I have given on pages 408-9 of Happiness and the Art of Being), but was modified by him while he was composing and editing Ulladu Narpadu.

The principal reason why they decided not to include the other eighteen of the original twenty-one verses was that most of them were not entirely suitable to the central aim of Ulladu Narpadu, which was to teach us ‘the nature of reality and the means by which we can attain it’. In addition to these eighteen verses, they also decided not to include three of the new verses that Sri Ramana composed during the three weeks that he was composing and editing Ulladu Narpadu.

However, since Sri Muruganar did not want the twenty-one verses that they had thus decided not to include in Ulladu Narpadu to be forgotten or neglected, he suggested to Sri Ramana that they should arrange them in a suitable order and append them as an anubandham (an ‘appendix’ or ‘supplement’) to Ulladu Narpadu. Therefore, when it was first published in 1928, Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham consisted of only twenty-one verses, but by 1930 or 31 it contained thirty verses, in 1938 it contained thirty-seven verses, and finally in 1940 it contained forty-one verses, one of which is the mangalam or ‘auspicious introduction’ and the remaining forty of which form the nul or main ‘text’.

Of these forty-one verses, only eleven are verses that Sri Ramana did not translate from any other language but composed originally in Tamil, namely verses 13 to 17, 31 to 33, 35, 36 and 38. Verses 8 and 10 are his Tamil translations of two verses that he first composed in Sanskrit. Verse 11 is his Tamil translation of a Sanskrit verse that Lakshmana Sarma (the author of Maha Yoga) composed recording a teaching that he had given orally. And though the last two lines of verse 12 are a translation by him of verse 84 of Vivekachudamani, a Sanskrit text composed by Sri Adi Sankara, the first two lines are an original composition by Sri Ramana.

The other twenty-six verses of Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham are translations or explanatory adaptations that he composed of verses by other authors. Verse 20 is an adaptation or paraphrase that he wrote of two verses (19.59 and 62) from a Tamil work called Prabhulinga Lilai (which is a verse adaptation of the original in Kannada). Nine verses, namely the mangalam, 21 to 24, 26, 27, 29 and 30, are translations of Sanskrit verses from Yoga Vasishtha. Verses 1, 7 and 39 are translations of Sanskrit verses by Sri Adi Sankara. Verse 5 is a translation of a Sanskrit verse from Srimad Bhagavatam (10.48.31). Verses 9 and 25 are translations of two verses (46 and 47) from Jnanachara-Vichara-Padalam, a chapter (the whole of which Sri Ramana translated separately) of a Sanskrit upagama text called Devikalottara. Verses 18 and 19 are translations of two verses from the Malayalam version of an ancient ayurvedic medical text called Ashtanga Hridayam. Verse 37 is a translation of a Sanskrit verse that was probably composed by Sri Sadasiva Brahmendra. And the remaining seven verses, namely 2, 3, 4, 6, 28, 34 and 40, are translations of verses from various other Sanskrit texts.

The mangalam verse, which is a translation (or rather an explanatory paraphrase) of Yoga Vasishtha 5.8.12, is a dhyana sloka or ‘verse of meditation’ upon svarupa (our ‘own form’ or essential self), in which our svarupa is described as the one truly existing reality, in which everything exists, whose everything is, from which everything comes into being, for which everything exists, by which everything comes to be, and which alone everything actually is.

The first five verses of the nul or main ‘text’ are translations of Sanskrit verses about the efficacy of sat-sanga, a term that literally means ‘clinging to [attachment to, devotion to, contact with or association with] reality [or being]’, but that by extension also means association with those who know and abide as the reality. As Sri Ramana often explained, the most perfect form of sat-sanga is only atma-vichara, the practice of attending or ‘clinging’ to self, which is the only reality, but as an aid to our practice of atma-vichara, we can also be greatly benefited by less perfect forms of sat-sanga such as studying and reflecting upon the teachings of those who know and abide as the reality, or simply being in their company.

Verse 1 is an adaptation of verse 9 of Moha Mudgara (the ‘Hammer on Delusion’, a song by Sri Adi Sankara, which is more popularly known as Bhaja Govindam), ‘satsangatve nissangatvam; nissangatve nirmohatvam; nirmohatve nischalatattvam; nischalatattve jivanmuktih’, which literally means:

In [or through] the state of sat-sanga [attachment to being], the state of nissanga [non-attachment] [arises]; in the state of nissanga, the state of nirmoha [freedom from delusion] [arises]; in the state of nirmoha, nischala-tattva [the true state of motionless being] [arises]; in nischala-tattva, jivanmukti [liberation in this life] [arises].

In his Tamil adaptation of this verse, Sri Ramana says that by சத்திணக்கம் (sat-t-inakkam) — friendship, intimacy, harmony or union with being, or with those who abide as being — attachment (to the external world) will leave us; that when such attachment leaves us, mental attachment (that is, our vasanas, which are the subtle seeds of our desires) will be dispersed (or destroyed); that people who are thus freed from mental attachment will perish in that which is motionless; and that they will thereby attain jivanmukti (liberation in this life). He then concludes this verse by adding ‘அவர் இணக்கம் பேண்’ (avar inakkam pen), which means ‘cherish their friendship [or intimacy]’. In other words, he advises us that we should therefore cherish the intimate friendship and company of those who abide as sat, ‘being’ or the reality.

The key word in this Tamil adaptation is இணக்கம் (inakkam), which Sri Ramana used to convey the meaning of the Sanskrit word sanga in the compound word sat-sanga. Whereas sanga means ‘clinging to’, ‘attachment to’, ‘devotion to’, ‘affection for’, ‘contact with’ or ‘association with’, inakkam means ‘friendship’, ‘intimacy’, ‘love’, ‘attachment’, ‘affection’, ‘agreement’, ‘attunement’, ‘harmony’, ‘compatibility’, ‘connection’, ‘alliance’ or ‘union’, so rather than merely meaning outward contact or company, both these words more significantly mean the subtle inward feeling of love, affection, intimacy and attunement of heart.

Therefore sat-sanga (or sat-inakkam) does not merely mean living in the physical presence of a sage who abides as sat, the one absolute reality, but more exactly means profound love for and intense attachment to such a sage and the state of pure being in which and as which he or she abides. Thus, even if we do not outwardly live in the company of such a sage, if we inwardly cling to him with pure love, we will always enjoy the benefit of his true sat-sanga.

Therefore when Sri Ramana advises us to ‘cherish their inakkam’, he does not only mean that we should cherish their outward company, but more importantly that we should inwardly cultivate and cherish true love for them and for the sat or pure being of which they are an embodiment.

In verse 2 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know) he says that the supreme state (of true self-knowledge) that is attained by means of clear vichara (self-investigation), which will arise in our heart when we take refuge in சாது உறவு (sadhu-uravu) — intimate friendship with or love for a sadhu (a word that literally means a person who is going or has gone straight to a goal, and that in this context means a sage who knows and abides as self, the absolute reality) — cannot be attained by listening to a preacher, by understanding the meaning of sacred texts, by virtuous deeds, or by any other means.

In verse 3 (which is also a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know, and which he composed for a child who wanted to observe a fast as a niyama or form of religious self-restraint) he asks a rhetorical question that implies that if we gain sahavasa (close association or friendship) with those who are sadhus (those who know and abide as self), all these niyamas (the various forms of self-restraint prescribed for the practice of yoga or for living a virtuous life) will serve no purpose, just as there would be no benefit in holding a hand-fan when a cool southern breeze is blowing.

In verse 4 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse, the original source of which is not known, but which is included in a well-known collection of ‘gems of wise sayings’ called Subhashita Ratna Bhandara as verse 6 of section 3) he says that heat (or mental anguish) will be removed by the cool moon, poverty by the divine wish-fulfilling tree, and sin by the river Ganga, but that all three of these will be removed merely by the precious sight of incomparable sadhus.

In verse 5 (which is an adaptation of Srimad Bhagavatam 10.48.31) he says that tirthas (sacred bathing places), which are composed of water, and daivas (images of deities), which are composed of stone or earth, cannot be compared to those great souls, because they (the tirthas and daivas) will gradually bestow purity (of mind) over a long period of time, whereas sadhus will bestow purity as soon as we see them with our eyes (or as soon as they see us with their eye of grace).

Verses 6 and 7 are two dialogues between a guru and a disciple that are intended to help us determine the true nature of self.

Verse 6 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know) begins with a disciple’s question, ‘Who is God?’, to which the guru replies with a counter-question, ‘Who knows the mind?’. The dialogue then continues: ‘My mind is only known by me, the soul’, ‘Therefore you are certainly God, because the srutis [sacred texts] say that God is the one [who alone truly exists]’.

Verse 7 (which is an adaptation of Sri Adi Sankara’s Eka Sloki) begins with a guru’s question, ‘What is the light for you?’, and the dialogue that ensues is as follows: ‘For me, by day the sun, by night a lamp’, ‘What is the light that knows [these physical] lights?’, ‘[My] eye’, ‘What is the light that knows that [your eye]?’, ‘[That] light is [my] mind’, ‘What is the light that knows [your] mind?’, ‘That is I’, ‘[Therefore the light] that shines in [all other] lights is you’, ‘I am only that [the original light of consciousness, by means of which all other lights are known]’.

Verse 8 is Sri Ramana’s Tamil translation of the Sanskrit verse ‘hridaya kuhara madhye ...’, which he had composed in 1915. Though the original Sanskrit version of this verse was completed by Sri Ramana, the first three words were composed by a devotee called Jagadisa Sastri, and when he completed it Sri Ramana signed the name ‘Jagadisan’ at the foot of it, indicating thereby that he had written in it only the ideas that Jagadisa Sastri wanted to express but was unable to do so in verse.

In the first two lines of this verse he says that in the centre of the ‘cave’ that is our heart the one brahman (the absolute reality or one true being) alone shines directly as atman (our true self), (which always experiences itself) as ‘I [am] I’. Then in the last two lines he tells us the means by which we can experience and abide as this one non-dual reality, instructing us to enter (approach, reach or take refuge in) our heart either by our mind sinking (within) contemplating ourself, or by our mind sinking (within) with the breath (restrained), and thereby to be one who abides in atman.

Though most of this verse accurately expresses the teachings of Sri Ramana, which Jagadisa Sastri had often heard him saying, the idea expressed in the final line by the words (in the Sanskrit original) ‘va pavana chalana rodhat’, which means ‘or by restraining the movement of [your] breath’, is not in tune with his teachings, because these words imply that we can enter our heart — the innermost core of our being — and abide as our real self not only by svam chinvata or ‘self-investigation’ but also by breath-restraint.

The fact that by restraining our breath we can restrain our mind only temporarily, that breath-restraint (pranayama) will not destroy or weaken our vasanas or latent desires, and that it is therefore only an aid to restrain our mind but will not bring about manonasa or ‘annihilation of mind’ is clearly taught to us by Sri Ramana in the eighth paragraph of Nan Yar? (Who am I?). Therefore we should understand that the words ‘hridi visa ... pavana chalana rodhat atmanishtho bhava tvam’ (which mean ‘enter [your] heart ... by restraining the movement of [your] breath [and thereby] be you in atma-nishtha [self-abidance]’) in this verse express a belief of Jagadisa Sastri and not a actual teaching of Sri Ramana.

To clarify that the only means by which we can destroy our mind and thereby abide eternally as self is svam chinvata or ‘self-investigation’ and not pavana chalana rodha or ‘restraining the movement of the breath’, when Sri Ramana and Sri Muruganar arranged the order of verses in Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham, they placed immediately after verse 8 a verse that is a translation by Sri Ramana of verse 46 of the Jnanachara-Vichara-Padalam of Devikalottara, which clearly states the truth that only consciousness, which is the pure and motionless ‘I’ that exists and shines in the lotus of our heart, will bestow liberation, the natural state of self, by destroying ‘I’ (our mind or ego).

In verse 10 (which he composed first in Sanskrit and then in Tamil), while elaborating upon the central teaching of advaita vedanta — namely ‘deham naham; koham? soham’ — Sri Ramana explains in his own words why and how this pure consciousness ‘I’ will destroy our ego.

The four words ‘deham naham; koham? soham’, each of which is in turn the first word of each of the four lines of this verse (both in Sanskrit and in Tamil), mean ‘the body (deham) [is] not (na) I (aham); who (kah) [am] I (aham)? he (sah) [is] I (aham)’. The first sentence, ‘deham naham’ or ‘the body is not I’, denotes the initial process of self-analysis by which we gain the intellectual conviction that the body, mind and other adjuncts that we have superimposed upon ourself are not our essential self or ‘I’; the second sentence, ‘koham?’ or ‘who am I?’, denotes the practice of atma-vichara or self-investigation, whereby we will actually experience what ‘I’ really is; and the third sentence, ‘soham’ or ‘he is I’, denote the experience of true self-knowledge that we will gain by practising atma-vichara.

In the first two lines of this verse Sri Ramana explains the first sentence, ‘deham naham’, saying that the body is not ‘I’ because it is jada (non-conscious) like a clay pot, because it does not have any ‘shining’ (or consciousness of itself) as ‘I’, and because our nature (or essential being) is experienced by us daily in sleep, in which this body does not exist.

In the last two lines he explains the last two sentences, ‘koham? soham’, saying that within the heart-cave of those who abide (as self), having known (by self-investigation) ‘who is this ego, the person who poses as I?’ (or) ‘where is he?’, the omnipresent God (arunagiri-siva-vibhu) will shine forth spontaneously as the sphurana (the clarity of pure self-consciousness) ‘he is I’. That is, when we investigate ‘who am I?’ we will experience the truth that ‘I’ is nothing other than the one omnipresent absolute reality, which we call ‘God’ or ‘Arunagiri Siva’.

By placing this verse after verses 8 and 9, Sri Ramana clearly implied the truth that since the real nature of our fundamental consciousness ‘I’ is nothing other than the one non-dual reality, we can destroy the illusory appearance of our mind and thereby abide firmly as our real self only by keenly scrutinising and knowing this consciousness ‘I’ as it really is.

Verse 11 is a Tamil translation by Sri Ramana of a Sanskrit verse in which Lakshmana Sarma recorded what he had once said, namely that the person who is truly born is only he (or she) who is born in his own source, which is brahman (the one absolute reality), by keenly investigating ‘where was it (this mind or ego) born as I?’, and that such a person is munisan (the lord of all sages) and is eternal and ever new and fresh.

In verse 12 Sri Ramana advises us to cease thinking this wretched body to be ‘I’ and to know self, which is ever-unceasing happiness, and then he adds a warning (which he adapted from verse 84 of Vivekachudamani), namely that trying to know self while cherishing this perishable body is like trying to cross a river using a crocodile as a raft.

In verse 13 he teaches us that destroying our dehatma-bhava (the false attitude or imagination that ‘this body is I’) is in effect the perfect performance of all good deeds and the achievement of all virtues and happiness, such as charity (dana), asceticism (tapas), ritual sacrifice, dharma (righteousness or good conduct), yoga (union with God), devotion (bhakti), heaven, wealth, peace (santi), truth, grace, silence (mauna), abidance (as self), death without dying, knowledge, renunciation, liberation and bliss.

In verse 14 he teaches us that by practising atma-vichara we will achieve the true aim of all forms of spiritual practice (each of which can be classified as being a form of one of the four ‘yogas’, namely karma, bhakti, yoga and jnana), saying that investigating ‘to whom are karma (action), vibhakti (lack of devotion), viyoga (separation from God) and ajnana (ignorance of self)?’ is itself karma (the path of desireless action), bhakti (the path of devotion), yoga (the path of union) and jnana (the path of knowledge), because when we investigate ourself thus, we will discover that this ‘I’ (who does karma, lacks bhakti, feels itself to be separate from God, and is ignorant of its real self) does not really exist, that without this false ‘I’ these defects (karma, vibhakti, viyoga and ajnana) never exist, and that the truth is therefore that we permanently exist only as the one real self.

In verses 15 to 17 Sri Ramana ridicules those who desire to acquire siddhis (supernatural or miraculous powers) and thereby to reform the world or rectify all its problems, and he teaches us that such desires would certainly prevent our mind subsiding in the peaceful state of absolute non-activity, in which alone we can experience ‘liberation’, which is the state of true self-knowledge.

In verse 15 he says that the buffoonery of ‘lunatics’ who do not know the truth that sakti (the one divine power) alone enables them to function, yet who exert themselves actively saying ‘we will attain siddhis’, is like the story of a cripple who said, ‘If someone raises me up [enabling me to stand], what measure are these enemies [that is, what power will they have to withstand me]?’

In verse 16 he asks a rhetorical question which implies that since absolute peace of mind alone is liberation, which is in truth always attained, people who set their mind upon siddhis, which cannot be attained without activity of mind, cannot immerse in the bliss of liberation, which is completely devoid of mental turbulence, agitation or activity.

In verse 17 he compares the ‘spurious [unreal or deceptive] soul’ who imagines that he or she is bearing the burden of the world, when in fact God is bearing it all, to the form of a gopuram tangi (one of the four plasterwork figures that stand near the top of a gopuram [a monumental tower erected above a temple gateway] and seem to bear its cylindrical upper section on their shoulders), saying that the attitude of such a person is a mockery. In the second half of the verse he gives another analogy (one that he also used in the thirteenth paragraph of Nan Yar?), asking whose fault it is if a person who is travelling on a train, which is carrying a huge burden, suffers by carrying his own luggage on his head instead placing it on the train.

Verses 18 to 24 are centred around the subject of the ‘heart’, a term that in a spiritual context means the innermost core or essence of our being — our pure, adjunct-free, non-dual self-consciousness, ‘I am’.

Though the real nature of our ‘heart’ is infinite consciousness, which transcends all forms of limitation, such as time, space or our material body, verses 18 and 19 describe it as being like a lily bud located within our chest, ‘two digits to the right’, and say that in the tiny hole inside its closed mouth the darkness (of self-ignorance) exists along with desire and other passions; that all the major nadis (subtle channels through which consciousness and prana flow) depend upon it; and that it is the abode of the light (of consciousness), the mind and the prana (life-force).

This description of the ‘heart’, which Sri Ramana translated from the Malayalam version of Ashtanga Hridayam (one of the three principal texts of the ancient system of medicine called ayurveda), is obviously not the absolute truth, but is only a relative truth — a fact that appears to be true only from the limited and distorted perspective of our mind, which always experiences itself as a body. Since our mind experiences a body as ‘I’, in its finite view this ‘I’ seems to originate from and to be centred in a particular place within this body, and hence this place, which is the point ‘two digits to the right’ from the centre of the chest, is loosely described as being the ‘heart’ or centre for ‘I’ in this body.

The fact that our real ‘heart’ is actually not this or any other point in our body is clearly indicated in Upadesa Manjari, in which Sri Natananandar records that — in the answer to the ninth question of the second section, ‘What is the svarupa [‘own form’ or essential nature] of the hridaya [heart or core]?’ — Sri Ramana quoted these two verses of Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham and explained that though some texts describe it thus:

... in absolute truth (paramartha) the meaning of the word hridaya [heart] is only self (atman). Since it is defined by the characteristics being (sat), consciousness (chit), happiness (ananda), permanence (nitya) and wholeness (purna), for it there are not any differences such as ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ or ‘up’ and ‘down’. The motionless place [space, ground or state] in which all thoughts cease is alone called the state of self (atman). When [we] abide knowing its svarupa [essential nature] as it is, there will be no room there for considerations such as that it is either inside or outside the body.

Since our ‘heart’ or real self is the one infinite whole (purna), how can it be confined within any particular form or located at any particular place? It is the one unlimited consciousness in which everything is contained, and the one true substance that exists as everything, so it is both inside and outside everything, and at the same time neither inside nor outside anything.

In verse 20 (which is an adaptation of verses 59 and 62 of chapter 19 of a Tamil work called Prabhulinga Lilai) Sri Ramana indicates that the only means by which we can experience our ‘heart’ as it really is is to mediate upon ‘I’ with the firm conviction that God is nothing other than that, and that we should persevere in practising such self-meditation until our present illusion ‘I am this body’ is utterly destroyed. That is, he teaches us that God is that which “shines as ‘I’ in the cave of [our] heart-lotus”, and that if we abide as this ‘I’ by the strength of our persistent meditation upon it, and if our abidance as it becomes established as firmly as our sense of ‘I’ is now established in our body, our avidya (ignorance or false knowledge) ‘I am this perishable body’ will be dispersed like darkness in front of the sun.

The next four verses (which are adapted from verses 32 to 38 of chapter 78 of part 5 of Yoga Vasishtha) emphasise the truth that our real ‘heart’ is only consciousness.

In verse 21 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.78.32-3) Sri Rama asks Vasishtha in which great mirror all the worlds that we see appear as a reflection (or shadow), and what is said to be the ‘heart’ of all the living beings in this world (implying that that ‘great mirror’ is the ‘heart’ of each one of us), and Vasishtha replies that the heart of all beings is of two kinds.

In verse 22 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.78.34-5) Vasishtha continues to describe the characteristics of these two kinds of heart, saying that one of them should be accepted and the other rejected. The physical organ called ‘heart’ that is situated in a location within the chest should be rejected (as being of no concern to us in our search for true self-knowledge, since it is just an unreal product of our mind’s imagination), whereas the ‘heart’ whose form is the one consciousness (our essential non-dual consciousness, ‘I am’) should be accepted (as being the sole reality and hence the only means by which we can know ourself as we really are). He concludes this verse by saying that this ‘heart’ that is consciousness exists both inside and outside, but is not that which exists only inside or only outside.

In verse 23 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.78.36-7) he says that only this (the ‘heart’ that is consciousness) is mukhya hridaya (the principal or original heart); that in it this entire world abides; that it is the mirror to everything (the ‘great mirror’ mentioned in verse 21, in which everything that we see appears as a reflection); that it alone is the abode of all wealth (prosperity or happiness); that therefore only consciousness is declared to be the heart of every living being; and that it is not a small part in a portion of the body, which is jada (non-conscious) like a stone.

In verse 24 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.78.38) Vasishtha concludes by saying that therefore by the sadhana (practice) of fixing the mind in the pure heart, which is composed only of consciousness, together with the vasanas (the desires that impel the mind to be active) the breath will automatically subside.

In verse 25 (which is a translation of verse 47 of the Jnanachara-Vichara-Padalam of Devikalottara) Sri Ramana instructs us to banish all attachments from our mind by incessantly meditating in our heart that sivam (the auspicious reality), which is the consciousness that is devoid of all adjuncts, is ‘I’.

When Sri Ramana was asked to point out the most important or useful verses in Yoga Vasishtha, he selected verses 17 to 26 of chapter 18 of part 5, in which Vasishtha teaches Sri Rama that he should know the reality in his own heart yet outwardly act according to his role in this world, as if it were real, and that he should thus be inwardly free from desire and aversion, pleasure and pain, enthusiasm, initiative, effort and action, yet outward appear to be bound by all of these.

Since Sri Ramana noticed that only six of these ten verses (namely 17, 18, 22, 25, 19 and 21) had been translated in Jnana Vasishtha (which is a versified Tamil adaptation of the Laghu Yoga Vasishtha, a condensed version of Yoga Vasishtha that contains about six thousand of the thirty-two thousand verses in the full text) as verses 32 to 34 of the chapter called ‘Punya Pavanar Kathai’ (The Story of Punya and Pavana), he translated the other four verses (namely 20, 23, 24 and 26) as two Tamil verses in the same metre as the three verses in Jnana Vasishtha. These two verse are now included in Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham as verses 26 and 27.

In verse 26 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.18.20 and 23) Vasishtha tells Sri Rama that outwardly he should play his role in this unreal world, but inwardly, having investigated all the various states, he should cling only to the one which is the ultimate state devoid of unreality (namely the state of absolutely clear self-consciousness); and that he should outwardly play his role in this world, without ever inwardly loosing sight of his knowledge of that (true self) which exists in his heart as the one reality underlying all the various appearances.

In verse 27 (Yoga Vasishtha 5.18.24 and 26) Vasishtha tells Sri Rama that he should outwardly play in this world as one who seemingly experiences enthusiasm and joy, who seemingly suffers anxiety and dislikes, and who seemingly makes effort and initiates action, but who is inwardly free of all such blemishes; and that as one who has been freed from the many bonds of delusion and who is steadfastly equanimous in all conditions, he should play in this world as he likes (or as required), outwardly doing action that is appropriate to his vesa (assumed appearance, disguise or role).

Having thus described in verses 26 and 27 how we should live in this world as an atma-jnani (one who knows self), in verses 28 to 31 and 33 Sri Ramana discusses the state of such an atma-jnani, and in verse 32 he teaches us the truth that though this state of self-knowledge (atma-jnana) is called the ‘fourth’, it is in fact the only real state.

In verse 28 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know) he says that a person who has ‘conquered the senses’ (that is, overcome all desire for any experience obtained through any of the five senses) by knowledge (of self) is an atma-vid (one who knows self), who abides as true knowledge (or being-consciousness); and that he (or she) is the ‘fire of knowledge’ (jnanagni), the wielder of the ‘thunderbolt of knowledge’ (jnana-kulisa), the ‘destroyer of time’ (kala-kala) and the hero who has killed death.

In verse 29 (which is an adaptation of Yoga Vasishtha 5.76.20) he says that light (inward illumination, clarity or wisdom) and power of intellect will spontaneously increase in those who ‘see reality’ (that is, those who experience the tattva, the one non-dual reality, which is our own essential self), just as trees in this world shine forth with all qualities such as beauty as soon as spring arrives.

In verse 30 (which is an adaptation of Yoga Vasishtha 5.56.13-4) he says that a mind from which all vasanas (impulses, propensities or desires) have been erased (by the clear light of true self-knowledge) does not actually do anything, even though it seems to be active, just as a person who seems to be listening to a story but whose mind has gone far away does not actually hear it, whereas a mind that is saturated with vasanas is truly active, even though it seems to be doing nothing, just like a person who climbs a hill and falls over a precipice in a dream, even though he seems to be lying motionless here (in our waking world).

In verse 31 he describes a mey-jnani (one who knows the reality) as being ‘asleep in a body of flesh’ (that is, unaware of the body or anything else other than the one reality, which is self) and says that he (or she) does not know the passing states of bodily activity, nishtha (self-absorption) and sleep, just as a person who is asleep in a bullock cart does not know whether the cart is moving, stationary or unyoked.

In verse 32 he says that the transcendent state of ‘waking sleep’ (that is, the state of true self-knowledge, in which one is awake to self, the one reality, but asleep to the unreal mind, body and world) is called turiya (the ‘fourth’ state) only for those who experience waking, dream and sleep (which are in fact unreal); and that since only turiya really exists, and since the other three states does not really exist, it (turiya) is turiyatita (that which transcends the ‘fourth’).

He refers here to turiyatita and says that turiya itself is turiyatita because some texts describe our natural state of ‘waking sleep’ not only as turiya (the ‘fourth’) but also as turiyatita (the ‘fourth-transcendent’), which creates the wrong impression in the minds of some people that turiyatita is a fifth state. The truth is that the state of ‘waking sleep’, which is our natural state of absolutely non-dual self-consciousness, is the only real state, so there is truly no difference between turiya and turiyatita. All differences or dualities appear to be real only in the imaginary perspective of our unreal mind, and hence in the clear light of true self-knowledge they will disappear along with this mind.

In verse 33 he teaches us the truth that though some texts say that an atma-jnani (one who knows self) is free of sanchita (the store of one’s past actions or karmas that are yet to give fruit) and agamya (the actions that one does in this life by one’s own volition or free will) but that prarabdha (destiny or fate, which is the fruit of past actions that are destined to be experienced in this life) does remain to be experienced by him (or her), this is only a ‘reply that is said to the questions of others’ (that is, it is said as a concession to those who cannot understand the truth that the jnani is not the mind or body that experiences prarabdha), and he illustrates this truth by saying that just as no wife will remain unwidowed if a husband (with three wives) dies, so none of the three karmas (agamya, sanchita or prarabdha) will remain when the karta (the ‘doer’ or agent who does karmas and experiences their fruit) is destroyed (by the clarity of true self-knowledge).

In verses 34 to 37 Sri Ramana teaches us the truth that studying too many books can become a serious obstacle in our spiritual path, because the truth that we seek to know exists only within ourself and cannot be found in any book or sacred text. Texts that are either written by an atma-jnani or that record or discuss the teachings of an atma-jnani are truly useful to us only to the extent that they enable us to understand the truth that we can experience the reality only by turning our mind inwards and drowning it in the innermost depth of our own heart, and to the extent that they thereby motivate us to give up seeking anything outside ourself and to seek only the reality that always exists as our essential self, ‘I am’.

As Sri Ramana says inthe sixteenth paragraph of Nan Yar? (Who am I?):

Since in every [sacred] text it is said that for attaining mukti [liberation or salvation] it is necessary [for us] to restrain [our] mind, after knowing that mano-nigraha [subjugation or destruction of our mind] is the ultimate intention [or purpose] of [such] texts, there is no benefit [to be gained] by studying without limit [a countless number of] texts. For restraining [our] mind it is necessary [for us] to investigate ourself [in order to know] who [we really are], [but] instead [of doing so] how [can we know ourself by] investigating in texts? It is necessary [for us] to know ourself only by our own ‘eye of jnana’ [that is, by the clarity of our own self-consciousness]. Does [a person called] Raman need a mirror to know himself as Raman? [Our] ‘self’ is within the pancha-kosas [the ‘five sheaths’ with which we seem to have covered and obscured our true being], whereas texts are outside them. Therefore investigating in texts [hoping to be able thereby to know] ourself, whom we should investigate [with an inward-turned attention] having removed [set aside, abandoned or separated] all the pancha-kosas, is useless. ...

In verse 34 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know) he says that for a person of little learning, his wife, children and other relatives form just one family, whereas in the minds of those who have vast learning there are not just one but many families in the form of books that stand as obstacles to yoga (spiritual practice or ‘union’ with God).

In verse 35 he asks what use is our learning the ‘letters’ (the words written in sacred texts) if we do not intend to erase the ‘letters’ (of destiny) by investigating where we, who have learnt these ‘letters’, were born (that is, from which source we arose as this false learning mind), and he says that those who acquire such learning without attempting to investigate and experience their own source are no better than a sound-recording machine.

In verse 36 he says that rather those who are learned but have not subsided (surrendered their mind and become truly humble), the unlearned are saved, because they are saved from the ghost of pride that possesses those who are learned, saved from the disease of many whirling thoughts, and saved from running in search of fame (repute, respect, esteem or glory). Therefore he concludes that they are saved not just from one but from many evils.

In verse 37 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse that was probably composed by Sri Sadasiva Brahmendra) he says that though they regard all the worlds as mere straw, and though they have mastered all the sacred texts, for people who have come under the sway of the wicked whore called puhazhcci (praise, applause, appreciation, respect or fame), it is rare (or very difficult) to escape their slavery to her.

In verse 38, in order to teach us that praise and blame are both of no concern whatsoever to a person who experiences the one real self, he asks us three rhetorical questions, namely who there is besides ourself when we always abide unswervingly in our own true state (of clear self-knowledge), without knowing the illusory distinction between ‘self’ and ‘others’, and what it would then matter whoever may say whatever about us, because what would it matter to us if we were to talk to ourself either extolling or disparaging ourself?

In verse 39 (which he composed in 1938 as a translation of verse 87 of Tattvopadesa by Sri Adi Sankara) he says that we should always experience advaita (non-duality) in our heart, but should never attempt to express it in action, and he concludes the verse by saying rather cryptically: ‘O son, advaita is fit in the three worlds; with guru, advaita is not fit; know [thus]’. The ‘three worlds’ here means brahmaloka, vaikuntha and kailasa, the ‘worlds’ or ‘heavens’ in which each of the three principal forms of God, Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, are said to reside, so ‘advaita is fit in the three worlds; with guru, advaita is not fit’ implies that though it may be appropriate for us to approach any of these three forms of God and claim ‘you and I are one’, we should never behave towards guru in such a manner, but should always outwardly show all due reverence towards him, even though in our heart we should experience him as our own true self.

Though the one reality that appears as the various forms of God is actually — like guru — only our own essential self, these three forms of God and their respective functions (namely the creation, sustenance and dissolution of this world-appearance) appear as such only within the unreal realm of our self-ignorance, and hence their functions are in no way comparable to the function of guru, which is to destroy the underlying self-ignorance in which the outward forms of God and guru appear to be real. Therefore the reverence that is due to guru is even greater than the reverence that is due to God.

Moreover, since the creation, sustenance and dissolution of this world are actually caused only by the rising and subsiding of our own mind, we can justifiably claim to be performing the functions that are attributed to Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, but we can never claim to be performing the function of guru, because as the embodiment of self-ignorance, our mind can never destroy itself, just as darkness can never destroy itself. Just as darkness can be destroyed only by light, our mind and the self-ignorance that gives rise to it can only be destroyed when it subsides and merges in the clear light of pure self-consciousness, ‘I am’, from which it arose.

Therefore this verse teaches us that though we should always experience our absolute oneness with guru in our heart by subsiding and merging in our essential self-consciousness, which is his true form, we should never rise as this mind and claim ‘guru and I are one’ or behave as if we are guru.

Moreover, since all action and our outward behaviour take place only in the realm of duality, it is both meaningless and futile to try to express non-duality in action. Since we can only experience non-duality (advaita) in our own heart, this verse says, ‘Always experience non-duality in [your] heart, [but] do not ever express non-duality in action’.

Sri Ramana concludes Ulladu Narpadu – Anubandham by declaring the ‘essence of the established conclusion of the entire vedanta’ (akila vedanta siddhanta sara) in verse 40 (which is a translation of a Sanskrit verse whose source I do not know), saying ‘அகம் செத்து அகம் அது ஆகில், அறிவு உரு ஆம் அவ்வகம் அதே மிச்சம்’ (aham cettu aham adu ahil, arivu uru am a-vv-aham ade miccam), which means: “If ‘I’ dies and ‘I’ becomes ‘that’, that ‘I’, which is the form of consciousness, alone is remnant”. That is, if our ego dies and our real self is thereby experienced as ‘that’ (God or brahman, the one absolute reality), what will remain is only that real ‘I’, whose form is pure consciousness.