I Do Nothing and He Saw Everything

I was meditating in the Ramana Ashram, feeling blissed out. A normal feeling when the mind is at rest. Bliss is our nature. I packed up my things and walked outside. As I was about to exit the front gate, I spotted my friend E standing with an unusually tall, sadhu-looking man.

He engaged me immediately.

“Hey E,” I said casually but before I could say more, the sadhu suddenly shouted, “YOU! I saw you sitting in the ashram! I told myself I wouldn’t bother you now, but I’d find you again!”

I just looked at him, a bit stunned.

He stepped closer. “How do you meditate?” he demanded.

“I do nothing,” I replied.

He roared: “THAT’S CORRECT!”

Then he turned to my friend E. “I saw this man doing nothing! He was healing everybody around him in the ashram.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t me.”

He looked at me and said, “What’s the meaning of it all?”

“Nothing,” I replied.

He burst out laughing. “And what are you?”

“Nothing.”

He turned again to E, shouting with conviction, “This man has become nothing! There’s nothing else to do!”

People were starting to stop and stare. His presence was wild, yelling, ranting, intense.

It was a full-blown spectacle.

We stood just outside the main shrine hall, under the covered area near the temple entrance. A small crowd gathered around us, watching the interaction. A few of them started asking him questions. One of them, with genuine respect, addressed him as “Guruji.”

He snapped.

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!” he shouted. “India is the guru country of the world! And what’s become of it? These ashrams, absolute nonsense! The management here bastards! Bastards, the lot of them!”

On and on he went, his voice rising, his arms flying, his eyes burning.

We hung out for a bit, but he was off his chops. Eventually, we wandered to the back of the ashram, where the path leads up Arunachala. A group of four friends were nearby and he suddenly began talking to them, something about monkeys.

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a bag of mangoes. A few monkeys came over. He began feeding them, but then another aggressive monkey charged at him. Without hesitation, he swung the bag and smacked the monkey in the face. It fell back and ran away. He tossed the mangoes to the rest, and they feasted.

Then he turned to me and said, “Come, follow me.”

I did not really knowing why and we ended up out the front of the ashram, where he began chatting with a young Indian guy.

We all had coconuts together.

His intensity was non-stop. I couldn’t help but wonder: Do people feel like this around me sometimes? If so, I might need to chill out.

But truthfully, I wasn’t anything like him.

There was something about him that made me feel uncomfortable, and I followed that inner feeling. It never leads you astray.

I went to Ananda Ramana Restaurant for lunch 4 or 5 days after this and there he was, sitting at a table. As soon as he saw me, he began ranting: “YOU! Where have you been!” I laughed and sat down. Honestly, I couldn’t be bothered with the whole show. The restaurant was full — all the staff, all the patrons were staring at us.

We started chatting briefly when a woman, probably in her 40s, walked past our table. He said something to her in Tamil, and she paused — then kept walking. On her way back, she stopped again, gathered her family, and was about to leave when she suddenly turned and looked at the wild sadhu.

“You are a professor of philosophy,” he said to her loudly.

Her jaw nearly hit the floor. “Yes,” she replied, stunned.

She and her family came over to him. She held his hand, and he held hers and kept speaking. I couldn’t quite hear everything he said, but then he asked the woman’s mother to come forward.

She did. He grabbed her hands, looked at her, and said something about her being eternally young and beautiful. She started crying. He was crying too. It was powerful.

Honestly, I’ve been in Tiruvannamalai for nearly six months, nothing surprises me anymore. This is the craziest place I have ever been. Hands down.

He asked the family for some food, and they paid for it and handed it to him.

I finished my meal, and we walked out. On the way out, he got into a big argument with the guy behind the counter, I don’t know what it was about but he was ranting and raving and everyone was looking.

He told me he’d wait for me outside. I said okay.

He left a few minutes before me, but when I stepped out, he was gone.

I sat with the interaction deeply.

Obviously, this wild guy had the ability to see and know things, that was true. But I didn’t buy some of the claims he made about realization.

Later, I sat quietly and prayed to Ramana.

“If this wild sadhu doesn’t have good intentions or is misrepresenting himself, please remove him from my life.”

And he did.

I didn’t hear from him again until I reached out a week and a half later.

I should have listened to my intuition and Ramana's grace the first time.