Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Lucia Osborne

“…I was able to meet Bhagavan. I had some preconceived ideas, but when I saw him… oh!… everything fell away. His eyes were transparent, looking through you. When you sat with him there was a feeling of oneness — everything is one, is one, is one!...I spoke with him — I used to show him my letters. My children were the first Western children who came here. They were made a tremendous fuss of…I was, yes, 38. I have spent exactly half my life here. Now although I had no news from my husband for four years — not one letter — nothing mattered…I sent my 3 year old son to Bhagavan; he said: Bhagavan, please bring my daddy back safely. From that moment I didn’t worry…Then one day my husband told me: My time is up, we should prepare for it. He even told me of what he would die, and the year…


Bhagavan himself inspired people to do things; this came spontaneously…By sitting in Bhagavan’s presence everything was resolved. When I came I knew the most important thing is to find out who you really are. Those who are sincere get glimpses of that state and they know. From that, the striving to make the experience steady starts.



In Bhagavan’s presence the silence was so powerful: it was the most potent teaching. Words — he used to say — are diffused silence. So, bathed in that silence you were, so to say, out of yourself. All your cares were thrown among the lilies, to use a beautiful expression. That was sadhana. You know, after he passed away people thought we would become desolate. Nothing of the sort! To my surprise I was walking on air: there was a feeling of elation. Do you know why? Suddenly you realized he is the inner guru dwelling in the heart, ever present. He had said: I’m not going anywhere, where can I go? Since then you can feel his presence more than ever. That’s why people come here more and more. They experience that radiation. And you only have to tell him something in the heart to get help, no matter what it is…


Did you know Bhagavan had a tremendous sense of humour? And he was a very good cook… he used to cut vegetables in the kitchen. Once, the poet Muruganar — he’s very well known — was helping him, but he wasn’t clever with a knife. Bhagavan said: You are only fit to write poems. And then on another occasion he told a lawyer: You are only fit to argue in Court. He was so exact, and nothing was wasted. Once I saw him bend down to pick up three grains of rice from the floor. It was like seeing the Divine before you. Every act, every movement expressed this. He had a thousand faces. He had stilled the mind, but that didn’t mean he was like a block of wood. On the contrary, he was not hemmed by individual thoughts. He was omniscient. He was the master of thought, not its slave…

A man’s wife died — you know in India we have to cremate within 24 hours. It was raining cats and dogs. The poor man came to Bhagavan saying: What should I do? Bhagavan looked through the window and replied: It looks as if it might stop! That was all. It stopped. That was the way he did it. Wild animals would come right up to him; there was no fear because they knew there was nothing but peace in him. No one came up to Bhagavan! He was extraordinary. Just to see him walk, just to watch his actions… they conveyed something. And I want you to really understand about his silence: it was most potent. With others, such silence could be embarrassing… I won’t say any more…”

~ Lucia Osborne, wife of Arthur Osborne, an influential disciple and biographer of Ramana Maharshi.

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