Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, by Suri Nagamma

During the early days, while rummaging the papers
that had been lying there for a long time, he found a small
piece of paper containing a Tamil verse in Bhagavan’s own
handwriting and a Telugu translation of it.

When it was handed over to Bhagavan, he could not
remember whose verse it was and so called me and, after
showing it, asked me whose it was. On scrutiny, I found that it
contained a Tamil verse by Narasimha Shetty about Tiruchuli
written after the grihapravesam ceremony of Sundara
Mandiram in Tiruchuli and a Telugu translation in verse
written by myself. After informing Bhagavan about this I asked
permission to take a copy of it, and he consented.

After the evening Veda Parayana, I bowed before
Bhagavan and was about to go home when Bhagavan said,
“Where is my paper?” Though he had agreed to my request
to take it home and bring it back the next morning after
copying it, he had doubts whether I would give it back to
him or not. Whenever I see his beautiful handwriting with
round pearl-like, characters on any paper I feel like retaining
the paper with me. Sensing this, Bhagavan asked me to give
the paper back so as to rid me of such desires.

That night I copied the Telugu verse and also the Tamil
verse in Telugu script on another paper so as to show it to
Bhagavan and then copy it in the Ashram notebook. So when
I went to the Ashram the next morning at 7-30 and bowed
before Bhagavan, he asked me again, “Where is that paper?”
“Yes, Swami, I have brought it. I have written the Tamil
verse in Telugu script. I shall copy it if you will kindly see
whether what I have copied is right,” said I. Then he saw it
and gave it back to me. I took out the notebook from the
shelf and kept it with me before he came down from the hill.

He did not see that. As I was about to go out with the paper
and my bag in my hand, Bhagavan said, “Give me back that
paper after copying it. I shall need it.” I felt humiliated at
being asked so many times for the paper. I could not contain
myself and said, “In this writing work, ever so many papers
have passed through my hands and I have not kept a single
one. I have given back every one of them. He himself
(pointing to Rajagopala Iyer) is my witness.” When I said
that, Rajagopala Iyer said, “Yes, yes.” I still could not restrain
my feelings and so said, “This is like the Telugu saying, ‘He
who shouts, rules!’ All are asking and getting the writings of
Bhagavan. If they chance to get such papers they quietly
keep them with themselves. Am I to be misled into forgetting
the Reality by this little piece of paper? I do not want it at all.

I shall give it back straight away.” As I said so, my throat got
choked and tears welled up in my eyes. Unable to contain
myself any longer, I went out, somehow copied it in the book,
gave the book to Bhagavan and the paper into the hands of
Rajagopala Iyer who was standing nearby and in a quivering
tone said, “I have given back the paper to him.”
With a heart full of compassion Bhagavan said in a soft
tone, “Keep it if you like.” Am I lacking in pride? “Why? These
letters get obliterated and this paper gets torn,” said I, in a
quivering voice. As I was about to sit down in my usual place,
Bhagavan said in a soft voice, “Is the Padyam (that is composed
by you) with you?” Holding my breath I merely said, “Yes.”
Though outwardly I appeared unconcerned, inwardly desire
was tormenting me.

Two or three years ago, when Bhagavan composed a
verse people vied with one other in getting it written in
Bhagavan’s own hand. Some of them grabbed at the
opportunity of securing his letters, hid them and refused to
surrender them when asked. Seeing all this, and so as not to
arouse such desires in me, I wrote a Telugu verse and
contented myself with it.

Verse:
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>∑s¡àyêdüqeTdüø£ # ̊" >±+#· ̋Òø£
Vü≤düÔ *œ‘êø£ås¡eTT >√s¡ q>∑THÓ s¡eTD ˆˆ
You who are always present in the shape of Indestructible
Being in this lotus heart, is it proper to ask for a
handwritten letter unable to see the Reality because of the
veil of karma vasana?
If only, some time or other, the eyes are washed so as
to remove the veil, the akshara swarupa (the form of the
imperishable spirit) will be clearly seen. That letter (akshara)
will not get wiped out. That paper (lotus heart) will not get
torn. It is more than enough if this aksharam is given away to
those who can shout and the veil on the eyes of the voiceless
child is removed. The child will then look after itself. The
title of “Bhava Roga Bhishagvara” (the eminent doctor for the
disease of mundane existence) is already there. Will he now
live up to his title? Let us see. There is however one thing.

He is continuously administering medicine to all. And the
dimness in the eyes is getting reduced little by little.