Ramana Maharshi
In the ancient township of Tiruchulli in a dry, dusty corner of South India, legend speaks of Lord Shiva saving the land from a deluge on three separate occasions. By planting his trident into the earth, Shiva created a hole for the water to flow into. At the place where he planted his trident stands the large temple of Bhuminatheswara (Lord of the Earth). Just across the street from this old temple is the house where young Venkataraman was born in December 1879. 
Though destined to become one of the great sages of modern times, there were no outward signs that would reveal his forthcoming Realization. After the death of his father, Venkataraman's family moved to the famous temple town of Madurai so that they could be under the watchful eye of a paternal uncle. It was here that the "Awakening" would take place, that waves of spiritual fervor would overtake him while reading the Periapuranam, the lives of the sixty-three Tamil saints. From his childhood, there was a continual inner throbbing of "Arunachala, Arunachala," as if the Self — his real Being — was reminding him of his forgotten nature. Once, when a visiting relative recounted his recent pilgrimage to Tiruvannamalai (a temple town where the solitary, sacred hill Arunachala rises above the South Indian plains), young Venkataraman became astonished and overwhelmed that Arunachala was in fact a place on earth — a place one could actually go to.

Shortly after this time, during a hot July day when Venkataraman was just sixteen, he faced his own mortality One day, when everyone else wasI away from home, the young boy became completely overcome with the fear of death. Rather than panic or retreat into fear, Venkataraman had the remarkable presence of mind to face the situation, then and there. He dramatized the death occurrence to be able to help bring the experience to its ultimate conclusion, by holding his breath, stiffening his body, and allowing no sound to escape his lips.

To die before death is to face the void; the emptiness in which the content of the mind has no ground on which to endure. It is rare for one to face the void without recoiling back into form. Venkataraman, like the Buddha, was determined to stay the course. Upon firm investigation into the nature of his "I-sense," his former self died, and the infinite Self, the Eternal "I," rose to take its place — the true resurrection.

After this experience, Venkataraman stopped going out to play with friends and preferred solitude. He says of this period:

"I would often sit alone and become absorbed in the Self, the Spirit, the force or current which constituted me. I would continue in this despite the jeers of my elder brother who would sarcastically call me 'Sage' or 'Yogi' and advise me to retire into the jungle like the ancient Rishis."

When his brother reprimanded him in August of that year for behaving like a sadhu, while enjoying the amenities of home life, Venkataraman recognized the truth of his brother's words. He rose to his feet, claiming that he had to return to school and left for Arunachala. He said of his state at that time:

"When I left home, I was like a speck swept on by a tremendous flood; I knew not my body or the world, whether it was day or night."

Providence guided the young sage on his journey home. The vibration in his heart, of "Arunachala, Arunachala," acted as a guiding light.

Absorbed in the bliss of Being, he sat and slept in various places around the Hill and in the temple — sometimes moving when groups of young rascals would pelt him with stones. Just as a light cannot be hidden under a bushel, the light of Venkataraman's realization became evident, attracting a few earnest seekers. Those were people who wanted to bathe in the peace of his presence - a peace that gently settled upon one, lifting one from the persistent cycle of thought.

Ganapathi Muni, a great Sanskrit scholar and yogi, had his doubts cleared by the young sage who was then living on the slopes of the Arunachala Hill. Deeply impressed and touched by his great wisdom, the Muni proclaimed that Venkataraman should subsequently be known as Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi.
Sri Ramana Maharshi 
Just as Ramana realized the Self without prior spiritual or philosophical instruction, he attached little importance to theoretical study. His teachings are uniquely suited to modern life and provide for a balanced synthesis of head and heart. Maharshi consistently guided the seeker back to the source of abiding happiness — one's own Self.

The teachings of Ramana Maharshi are among the clearest and most direct of the advaitic (nondualistic) teachings originating from India. Advaita simply means "not two." Ramana taught that we exist as the Supreme Self at all times. We need only awaken to this reality by seeking the source of the ego, or "I-thought," and abide in the Self that we always are. He referred to this method as Self-Inquiry.

Ramana always encouraged people to lead life in the most natural manner. There was no question of engaging or disengaging in activity — all happens according to destiny. The primary consideration is to be free from the "I-am-the-doer" illusion.

The path of Self-Inquiry liberates one from the never-ending fear and disorder resulting from taking the ego to be real. By becoming free of the ego-illusion, one experiences true freedom and supreme peace. It is a path that takes one from the apparent duality of the individual and the world to the bliss of one's real nature.

Through this awakening to Self-awareness, even by imperfect glimpses, one begins to sense a Reality not limited to the ego's world. And, this current of Awareness, is ultimately revealed as the Self — Pure Consciousness. Though we often refer to the teaching of Ramana Maharshi as a "path," it is truly pathless. When we abide in our true Being, we turn our back on time — on becoming; and consequently on spending time purifying the very mind and ego structures that only need to be discarded. Maharshi observes:

"You impose limitations on your true nature of Infinite Being, and then weep that you are but a finite creature. Then you take up this or that sadhana (spiritual practice) to transcend the nonexistent limitations. But if your sadhana itself assumes the existence of the limitations, how can it help you to transcend them?"

Those who surrounded Ramana during his lifetime came from very diverse cultural and social backgrounds. What they had in common was a sincere aspiration to experience true inner peace and freedom. Maharshi .never saw anyone as separate from himself and had no disciples in the I traditional sense. He regularly said that the Guru was not the physical form, and that guidance would continue after the demise of the Guru's body. Therefore, there was no need to create a lineage, or provide for transmission to carry on successorship.
His Hermitage

After years of living in caves upon the Arunachala hill, the Maharshi moved down to its base, near the burial place of his mother. After a short time, a small ashram began to take shape around him, and what is now the current Sri Ramanasramam had its modest beginning. Seekers from all backgrounds and religions came to bask in his presence.

Ramana sat in a modest hall, available day and night to answer questions from sincere seekers. His only possessions were a loincloth and a towel. Maharshi never asked anything of anyone. He never traveled, gave formal talks, or wrote books. He spontaneously answered questions asked of him and was unconcerned regarding the comings and goings of visitors. Yet, he meticulously attended to detail when engaged in the work that he did each day. Whether it was preparing food in the kitchen, stitching a notebook out of leftover paper, or going through ashram proofs, Maharshi always taught mindfulness by example. What's more remarkable is that throughout all the years he lived at the Ashram, he never had a private room or separate accommodation. He slept and lived in the Hall — the same location that visitors occupied days and evenings with him. Only much later toward the last year of his life, when his health was frail, was a small room constructed for his use.

Whoever came to the hermitage to sit in Ramana's presence — whatever their religious or cultural background — all felt he belonged to them. And indeed he did, for "I" is common to all people, and the investigation into its true nature reveals a Unity that is universal — beyond mind-made differences.

Throughout the more than fifty-four years that Maharshi guided seekers from various parts of the world, he never swerved from the essential task of bringing the questioner back to the truth of his or her own Existence. Whatever form the question would take, Ramana would patiently and gently lead the questioner back to the "one who questions."

The legacy of Ramana Maharshi lives in his teachings. The directness and simplicity of the approach appeal to many people, especially in our time. Since wherever we may be our own Self is always available, there are no special requirements for investigating who we truly are.

In 1949, it was detected that Maharshi had malignant sarcoma in his left arm. In spite of intense medical care, on April 14,1950, his physical end was evident. In the evening, as devotees sat outside the room built specially for his convenience during this final illness, they spontaneously began to sing the refrain to one of his stirring hymns to Arunachala. 
Arthur Osborne (biographer of Ramana and editor of his written works) writes - about that evening:
"On hearing it, Ramana's eyes open and shone, he gave a brief smile of indescribable tenderness. From the outer corner of his eyes, tears of bliss rolled down. One more deep breath, and no more. At that very moment — 8:47 p.m. — an enormous star trailed slowly across the sky passing to the northeast peak of Arunachala. The meteor was noted as far away as Bombay."

Many of those who had the good fortune to benefit from his physical presence begged him not to leave; Ramana made it very clear that he was not the body, so there was no concern for his leaving. He told those around him:

"They say that I am dying, but I am not going away. Where could I go? I am here."

One of the great collections of dialogues between the Sage and his inquirers is contained in the book you now hold in your hands. Carefully recorded in English, by Munagala S. Venkataramiah, the wisdom in these "talks" will certainly guide us to that profound clarity if we open ourselves completely to it. Only the thirst for true freedom is required. The words of Ramana Maharshi are the mirror of wisdom; whenever we turn to them we see the reflection of our true nature:

"There is no greater mystery than the following: Ourselves being the Reality, we seek to gain reality. We think there is something hiding our Reality, and that it must be destroyed before the Reality is gained. That is ridiculous. A day will dawn when you will yourself laugh at your past efforts. That which will be on the day you laugh is also here and now."
Excerpt from the book "Talks with Ramana Maharshi" the Introduction by Matthew Greenblatt




Swami Vivekananda
Swami Vivekananda was born Narendranath Dutta, son of a well-known lawyer in Calcutta, Biswanath Dutta, and a very intelligent and pious lady, Bhuvaneswari Devi, in the year 1863. Biswanath often had scholarly discussions with his clients and friends on politics, religion and society. He would invite Narendranath to join in these discussions. Narendra, not in the embarrassed, would say whatever he thought was right, advancing also arguments, in support of his stand. Some of Biswanath's friends resented Naren's presence among them, more so because he had the audacity to talk about matters concerning adults. Biswanath, however, encouraged him. Naren would say: Point out where I'm wrong, but why should you object to my independent thinking?
Naren learnt the Epics and Puranas from his mother, who was a good story-teller. He also inherited her memory among other qualities. He, in fact, owed much to her as he used to say later. Naren was all-round. He could sing, was good at sports, had a ready wit, his range of knowledge was extensive, had a rational frame of mind and he loved to help people . He was a natural leader. He was much sought after by the people because of his various accomplishments.
Naren passed Entrance Examination from the Metropolitan Institute and F.A. and B.A. Examinations from the General Assembly's Institution (now Scottish Church College). Hastie, Principal of the College, was highly impressed by Naren's philosophical insight. It was from Hastie that he first heard of Sri Ramakrishna.
As a student of Philosophy, the question of God very much his mind. Was there a God ? If there was a God, what was He like ? What were man's relations with Him ? Did He create this world which was so full of anomalies ? He discussed these questions with many, but no one could give him satisfactory answers. He looked to persons who could say they had seen God, but found none. Meanwhile, Keshab Sen had become the head of the Brahmo Movement. He was a great orator and many young people, attracted by his oratory, enrolled as members of the Brahmo Samaj. Naren also did the same. For some time he was satisfied with what the Brahmo Samaj taught him, but soon he began to feel it did not quite touch the core of the matter, so far as religion was concerned. A relation of his used to advise him to visit Ramakrishna at Dakshineswar, who, he said, would be able to remove all his doubts about religion. 
He happened to meet Ramakrishna at the house of a neighbour, but there is nothing on record about the impression that he created on Naren's mind. He, however, invited Naren to visit him at Dakshineswar some day. 
As the days passed, Naren began to grow restless about the various riddles that religion presented to him. He particularly wanted to meet a person who could talk about God with the authority of personal experience. Finally, he went to Ramakrishna one day and asked him straightaway if he had seen God. He said he had, and if Naren so wished, he could even show God to him. This naturally took Naren by surprise. But he did not know what to make of it, for though his simplicity and love of God impressed Naren, his idiosyncrasies made him suspect if Ramakrishna was not a 'monomaniac'. He began to watch him from close quarters and after a long time he was left in no doubt that Ramakrishna was an extraordinary man. He was the only man he had so far met who had completely mastered himself. Then, he was also the best illustration of every religious truth he preached. Naren loved and admired Ramakrishna but never surrendered his independence of judgment. Interestingly, Ramakrishna himself did not demand it of him, or of any other of his disciples. Nevertheless, Naren gradually came to accept Ramakrishna as his master.
Ramakrishna suffered from cancer and passed away in 1886. During his illness, a group of select young men had gathered round him and began to nurse him while receiving spiritual guidance from him. Naren was the leader of this group. Ramakrishna had wanted that they take to monastic life and had symbolically given them Gerua cloth. They accordingly founded a monastery at Baranagar and began to live together, depending upon they got by begging. Sometimes they would also wander about like other monks. Naren also would sometimes go traveling. It was while he was thus traveling that he assumed the name of Swami Vivekananda.
Vivekananda travelled extensively through India, sometimes on foot. He was shocked to see the conditions of rural India-people ignorant, superstitious, half-starved, and victims of caste-tyranny. If this shocked him, the callousness of the so-called educated upper classes shocked him still more. In the course of his travels he met many princes who invited him to stay with them as their guest. He met also city-based members of the intelligentsia-lawyers, teachers, journalists and government officials. He appealed to all to do something for the masses.
No one seemed to pay any heed to him-except the Maharaja of Mysore, the Maharaja of Khetri and a few young men of Madras. Swami Vivekananda impressed on everybody the need to mobilize the masses. A few educated men and women could not solve the problem of the country; the mass power had to be harnessed to the task. He wanted the masses educated. The ruler of Mysore was among the first to make primary education free within his State. This, however, was not enough in Swamiji's view. A peasant could not afford to send his children to school, for he needed help in his field. He wanted education taken to the peasant's door-step, so that the peasant's children could work and learn at the same time. It was a kind of 'non-formal' education which perhaps he visualized. His letters to the Maharaja of Mysore on the subject show how much he had given to the subject and how original he was.
Other princes, or the intelligentsia as a whole, were impressed by Swamiji's personality, but were much too engrossed with their own affairs to pay any heed to his appeals. Some of the young men of Madras, Perumal specially, dedicated himself to the ideas Swamiji propounded and his contributions to the success of his mission were significant. Swamiji could guess the reason why the so-called leaders of the society ignored him. Who was he ? A mere wandering monk. There were hundreds of such monks all over the country. Why should they pay any special attention to him? By and large, they followed only Western thinkers and those Indians who followed the West and had had some recognition in the West by so doing. It was slave mentality, but that was what characterized the attitude of the educated Indians over most matters. It pained Swamiji to see Indians strutting about in Western clothes and imitating Western ways and manners, as if that made them really Western.
Later he would call out the nation and say, 'Feel proud that you are Indians even if you're wearing a loin-cloth'. He was not opposed to learning from the West, for he knew the Western people had some great qualities and it was because of those qualities that they had become so rich and powerful. He wanted India to learn science and technology from the West and its power to organize and its practical sense, but, at the same time, retain its high moral and spiritual idealism. But the selfishness of the so-called educated people pained him more. They were happy if they could care for themselves and they gave a damn to what happened to the people. Swamiji wanted to draw their attention to the miserable condition of the masses-illiterate, always on the verge of starvation, superstitious and victims of oppression by the upper castes and the rich landlords.
As Swamiji arrived in Madras, young people gathered round him drawn by his bright and inspiring talks. They begged him to go to the USA to attend the forthcoming Parliament of Religions in Chicago to represent Hinduism. They even started raising funds for the purpose. Swamiji was first reluctant but later felt some good might come of his visit to the West, for if he could make some impression there, his people back at home, who always judged a thing good or bad according as the Western critics thought of it, would then give him a respectful hearing. That is exactly what happened : Swamiji made a tremendous impression, first in the USA and then also in England.
The press paid him the highest tributes as an exponent of India's age-old values; overnight he became a great national hero in India. Suddenly it was brought home to them that there must be something in Indian thought that Western intelligentsia feel compelled to admire. They began to suspect that perhaps they were not as backward as they once thought, and in areas like religion and philosophy, in art and literature, they were perhaps more advanced than the Western people. They had always felt sorry about themselves, but, now for the first time, they awoke to the richness of their heritage. This was the starting point of the Indian renaissance one hears about. A long successful of national leaders starting from Tilak have drawn inspiration from Swami Vivekananda. They 'discovered' India-her strong and weak points-through him. 'If you want to know India, study Vivekananda', was Tagore's advice to Romain Rolland. This holds true even today, indeed no one has studied India's body and mind so thoroughly as Swamiji did.
It was Swamiji's hope that India would create a new social order and a new civilization by combining her best spiritual traditions with the latest advancements in science and technology. She would be rich both materially and spiritually. He knew affluence was not enough, man had to be human, too. He wanted India to set an example in this.