that he was now willing to answer questions from anyone in theroom. He hadn't come there to receive advice, he had come to giveit out.Maharaj asked him to leave and said that if he was reallyinterested in his teachings he could go in the evening to the houseof one of his women devotees, a Sanskrit professor who sometimesdid translations for him, and she would explain them to him. Hewas told not to come back to the room. I suspect that Maharajwanted to keep him away from us because there was somethingstrange and threatening about him. I am not a very psychic kind of person but I could definitely feel an unpleasant energy coming off this man. It was something that made me feel physically queasy.He really did have an aura of bad energy around him. I checkedwith some of the other people afterwards, and some of them hadfelt the same way.All this took place in a morning session. That evening theSanskrit professor showed up an hour late, looking very flustered.Maharaj immediately wanted to know what was going on.'This man from Madras came to my house and I couldn't get himto leave. I told him that it was time for me to come here, but hewouldn't get up and go. I didn't really want to force him to go. Hemight have got angry with me, and then I might have died.'Maharaj appeared to be outraged. He puffed out his chest like afighting cock going into battle and announced, very angrily, 'Noone can harm my devotees. You are under my protection. This mancannot do you any harm. If he comes to talk to you again, throwhim out when it is time for you to come here. Nothing will happento you.'This was the only occasion when I heard Maharaj make a strongpublic declaration that he was protecting and looking after hisdevotees.Maharaj himself had no fear of people like this. He told us onceabout a yogi who had come to his beedi shop to test his powers.This yogi apparently had many siddhis and he came to see if Maharaj, of whom he had heard great things, could match him.Maharaj just went about his business in the shop and refused allchallenges to show off what he could do. Eventually, in an attemptto provoke him into doing something, the yogi said that he wouldcurse him and make something very bad happen to him.Maharaj apparently looked at him with complete unconcern andsaid, 'You may be able to pull down a thousand suns from the sky,but you can't harm me and you don't impress me. Now go away.' Next:I think this whole episode was orchestrated by the powerthat looks after the affairs of devotees who have a strong urgeto be with a Guru. Page:1 2 3 456 Home Interviews and personal stories Books by David Godman Arunachala Saints Tamil Translations Ramana Maharshi -his life and teachings Contact David Godman Search Links Copyright © 2002-2005 David Godman Page 7of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis5.shtml HomeInterviews and personal storiesBooks by David Godman Arunachala SaintsLinks SearchBhagavan, his life and teachingsContact David Godman Tamil TranslationsTranslated site material Realization.orginterviews DavidGodman Michelle Mikkleseninterviews DavidGodman Living theInspiration of SriRamana Maharshi RememberingNisargadattaMaharaj ***** Temple Times My son, theMissionary *****INTERVIEWS PHOTOS & LINKS Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj Page 6 Nisargadatta Maharaj Harriet: What about you? Were there any instances when youfelt that he was looking after you, taking care of your physicalwell being as well as your spiritual health?David : There is nothing remotely as spectacular as Anna-Marie'svisit, but I can tell you the story of one trip I made to see him.There are a few incidents on the way that are nothing to do withwhat you are asking, but by the time I get to the end, you willrealise what it is all about.In 1980 I wanted to see Maharaj but I had no money at all. Icouldn't afford the train ticket, and I definitely couldn't afford tostay in Bombay for more than a day or two. I accepted an invitationto give a talk about Bhagavan at a seminar in Delhi on conditionthat I could come back via Bombay. My train ticket was paid for bythe organisers, so that took care of the transport arrangements. Mymeagre funds would allow me two days in Bombay, so I bookedthe tickets according. In India you have to book your train tickets atleast seven to ten days in advance in order to get the train youwant.I made my speech in Delhi and then took the train to Bombay.On the suburban train that ran from the main Bombay station toGrant Road I had all my money, my passport (actually a temporarytravel document that was given to me while I waited for a newpassport) and my onward train ticket stolen. It was a classic pieceof work. There is always a crush as everyone piles into the carriageat the same time. In the general scrummaging someone managed toslit the bottom of my bag and remove my wallet. My first reactionwas actually admiration. It had been such a slick, professional job.The slit was only about half an inch bigger than the size of thewallet, and the whole operation had been in carried out in a coupleof seconds while I was trying to ensure that I got onto the train.Fortunately, my local train ticket was in my shirt pocket. In Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 * * * * * In this page: I ask this because therewas no ashram or centrewhere all of Maharaj'sdevotees could stay.Did you carry on going tosee him until he passedaway? Were you there inthe final days? * * * * * Page 1of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis6.shtml those days there was a Rs 10 fine (about 20 cents US at today'srate) for ticketless travel, and I wouldn't have been able to pay it if Ihad been unable to produce a ticket at my destination. When Iarrived at Grant Road, I didn't even have that much money to myname. I think I had just over a rupee in loose change in one of mytrouser pockets. That constituted my entire worldly wealth. Iwalked to 10th Lane, Khetwadi, the alley where Maharaj lived andinvested all my change in a cup of tea and a morning newspaper. Itwas very early in the morning and I knew that it would be a coupleof hours before anyone I knew showed up. I didn't want to go inand tell Maharaj that I had been robbed because I had seen how hehad reacted to other people in that situation. I was hoping to float aloan from someone I knew and then find a floor to sleep on,because without a passport, I wouldn't be able to check into ahotel.Jean Dunne showed up around the time I expected and I told herwhat had happened. I knew her well because she had lived inRamanasramam for a couple of years before she started to visitMaharaj in Bombay. She lent me a few hundred rupees, which Iassumed would be enough to have a couple of days in Bombay andget back to Tiruvannamalai. I planned to go to the train station laterthat morning and get a new copy of my onward ticket issued.Maharaj, though, had other plans for me.Someone told him that I had been robbed on the suburban trainand I braced myself for the expected lecture. Instead, he wasastonishingly sympathetic. He spoke to one of his attendants, abank officer, and asked him to put me up for the duration of myvisit. I ended up in a very nice house in quite a good area of Bombay. Quite a change from the bug-ridden lodges that I usuallyhad to frequent. Later that morning I went to V. T. Station to get anew ticket. Much to my amazement, there was no record of myname on any of the trains that were leaving for Madras. In thosedays there were no computers; all bookings were made by hand inbig ledgers. A very civilised and sympathetic railway official (youdon't meet many of them when you are not on Guru business inIndia!) took a couple of hours off to pore over all the ledgers tofind out the details of my ticket. There are about 750 people oneach train and I think there were three or four trains leaving forMadras on the day that I planned to leave. After scanning over2,000 names for me, he regretfully announced that I didn't have areservation on any of the trains that were leaving that day. I beganto suspect that some power wanted me to stay in Bombay becausemistakes like this are very rare in the railway booking system. Inthe twenty-seven years I have been using the trains here, I havenever ever arrived at a station and discovered that my booked ticketsimply didn't exist. I had no alternative except to go and buy a newticket, which I did with the funds I had borrowed from Jean. Thenext train with a vacant berth wasn't leaving for over two weeks,which meant that I had that much time to spend with Maharaj.I had come with very little money, expecting a two-day flyingvisit. Instead, courtesy of Maharaj and a mysterious event in therailway booking office, I had a luxurious two-week stay in adevotee's house.I made my way back to Maharaj's house and found thatsomeone had told him about the talk on Ramana Maharshi'steachings I had given in Delhi a few days earlier. That was Page 2of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis6.shtml something else that I wanted to keep quiet about. Maharaj hadstrong views on unenlightened people giving public speeches aboutenlightenment. I had only agreed to do it so that I would have achance of coming to see him, but I suspected that this wouldn't be agood enough excuse for him.I discovered that he had found out about the talk because when Iwalked into his room he called me and asked me to come to thefront of the room. I went up and sat facing him in the place wherethe questioners would usually sit.'No, no,' he said, 'sit next to me, facing all the other people.'My spirits sank. I knew that I wouldn't enjoy whatever he had inmind.'Look at my little room,' he began. 'Only about thirty peoplecome to listen to hear me speak. But David here has just beengiving spiritual talks in Delhi. Hundreds of people apparently cameto listen to him, so he must be much better at it than me. So todayDavid will give a talk for us.'This was worse than anything I could have imagined when hecalled me up. I tried unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his invitation,but when I realised that he wasn't going to back down, I gave afive-minute summary of the paper I had read out in Delhi. It wasabout the unity between the practices of surrender and self-enquiryin Bhagavan's teachings. One of the translators asked me to goslowly so that he could give a running translation for Maharaj.Through the duration of the talk Maharaj was glaring at me veryintently. I think that he was waiting to pounce on me if I madesome comment that he didn't agree with. I made it to the end of mysummary without being interrupted by any scathing commentsfrom Maharaj. I thought that this in itself was quite a majoraccomplishment.After my conclusion he looked at me and said in a fairly mildtone, 'I can't quarrel with anything you said. Everything you saidwas correct.'Then he fired himself up and said very strongly and forcefully,'But don't go around giving talks about how to get enlightenedunless you are in that state yourself. Otherwise, you will end uplike that Wolter Keers.'I have already told you what he thought of Wolter Keers and histeaching activities. That was a fate I was determined to avoid. Allthis took place twenty-three years ago. I haven't given a public talk since then.I need to fast forward a bit here and get to the end of the story. Iarrived back in Tiruvannamalai more than two weeks later. I hadno income, no prospect of receiving any money from anyone, and Ihad a debt of several hundred rupees that I owed to Jean. I went towork the next morning in the ashram library and found an orangeenvelope on my desk with my name on it. I opened it and found abundle of rupee notes inside. I counted them and discovered that itwas exactly the same amount that had been stolen from me inBombay: not a rupee more, not a rupee less. There was no mentionof who had put the money there, and no one ever came forward tosay that he or she was the person responsible. So far as I wasaware, no one in Tiruvannamalai even knew about the theft. Ihadn't told anyone, and I had been back in Tiruvannamalai lessthan twenty-four hours when the envelope appeared.I think this whole episode was orchestrated by the power that Page 3of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis6.shtml looks after the affairs of devotees who have a strong urge to bewith a Guru. This power took me to Bombay, stole my money andticket, removed all traces of my booking from the railway ledgers,arranged excellent accommodation for me for more than twoweeks, brought me back to Tiruvannamalai, where it then returnedall my money to me via an anonymous donor. Harriet: Where did you normally stay when you went toBombay? What did other visiting devotees do foraccommodation? Where did you all eat and sleep? I ask thisbecause there was no ashram or centre where all of Maharaj'sdevotees could stay.David : It depended on how well off you were. Bombay has alwaysbeen an expensive place to live in. If you didn't have much money,your choice was very restricted. Some of my friends used to stay ata Buddhist ashram, but that involved participating in a lot of theirrituals, which was something many of us didn't want to do becausesome of the timings clashed with Maharaj's sessions. There weresome other cheap options that were either a long way away orwhich also involved participating in some activity you didn't wantto, or submitting to strange rules that were not convenient. Iavoided all these places and always stayed at a cheap lodge thatwas about 200 yards from Maharaj's house, on the same alley. Itwas called the Poornima, and many of us who were short of moneyended up there. I seem to remember that it was Rs 22 for a doubleroom, an amazing price for Bombay even in those days. A coupleof streets away there was a place that served cheap lunches to localpeople who were working in the area. It was made of mud andthere were no chairs or tables. However, you could get a greatlunch there – chapattis, dhal, and vegetables – for Rs 1.40. I can'tremember the exchange rate in those days. I think it may have beenabout twelve rupees to the dollar. That should give you some ideaof the prices.Maharaj would always ask where you were staying when youfirst went to see him. If you said 'Poornima' he knew you wereeither short of funds or being very careful about spending them. Heclearly approved of people who didn't waste money, and who gotgood bargains when they went out shopping. He had spent hiswhole life being a businessman who knew the value of a rupee, andit irked him considerably to see foreigners wasting money orgetting cheated.One morning when I was there visitors were offering flowersand sweets to him. People would bring flowers to decorate theportraits for the Guru puja that took place every morning, and somepeople brought sweets that would be distributed as prasad at theend of it. That day, three foreign women were standing in front of him with flowers that had stems, which meant that they werehoping he would put them in the vases that were kept near him. Heasked the first one how much she had paid, and when she told himhe was shocked. He got angry with her, said that she had beencheated, and refused to accept the flowers. The second womansuffered the same fate. The third woman's flowers were acceptedbecause she had done a little bargaining and had got the price downto a reasonable amount. Devotion didn't seem to be a factor when itcame to getting your flowers accepted. The best way to get your Page 4of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis6.shtml flowers in his vase was to bargain ferociously for them and get aprice that would satisfy him.Now the subject of flowers has come up, I have to digress alittle mention the bhajan and the Guru puja that took place betweenthe meditation and the question-and-answer session. It was the onlyoccasion when Maharaj would allow people to garland him. Afterhe had been garlanded, he would stand in the middle of the room,banging cymbals to the tune of the bhajan that was being sung.Mostly, his eyes would be closed. At the beginning he would startoff with small finger cymbals one or two inches in diameter. As the bhajan hotted up he would move on to bigger and bigger cymbalswhich would be passed on to him by an attendant. The biggest pairwere almost the size of garbage can lids. They were huge and thenoise they made was ear-splitting. You could hear them severalstreets away. When Maharaj moved on to this biggest set of cymbals, he would already be wearing so many garlands, theywould be sticking out in front of him, sometimes to a distance of about two feet. It wasn't possible to bang the biggest cymbalswithout utterly destroying the garlands. Maharaj would bang awaywith his eyes closed, and every time the cymbals came togetherpetals would fly off in all directions. By the time it was all over, thefloor would be covered with fragments of the flowers he hadshattered and sprayed all over the room. It was a beautiful sight andI never got tired of watching him smash his cymbals together andspray flowers in all directions.Let's get back to his parsimonious habits. I stayed at thePoornima on a visit I made in 1979. I was spending two weeks withMaharaj before flying back to England to visit my family for thefirst time since I had come to India in 1976. My mother had sentme a ticket, feeling, possibly with some reason, that if she didn'tpay for my trip, I might never come home again. I had accumulatedorders for copies of I am That from friends in England. The Britishprice was about ten times the price of the Bombay price, so all theMaharaj devotees I knew in England had put in orders for cheapcopies. I appeared in Maharaj's room with this huge pile of booksand asked him to sign them all for the people who were waiting forthem in England.He looked at me very suspiciously and said, 'I thought you hadno money. How could you afford to buy all these books?'I explained: 'They are not for me. They are for people inEngland who don't want to pay the British price. They have sent memoney to bring them Indian copies.'When I told him the retail price in London he was trulyhorrified.'Take as many as you can! No one should pay that price for abook!'He pulled out his pen and happily autographed all the books. Harriet: Did you carry on going to see him until he passedaway? Were you there in the final days?David : No, and I didn't want to be. I didn't want sit there watchinghim slowly die. I wanted to keep my memory of a man who was aperpetual dynamo, an amazingly vital centre of force and energy. Iknew that he didn't regard himself as the body, but I didn't want tobe there, watching the cancer slowly reduce him to an invalid. I Page 5of 7Remembering Nisargadatta Maharaj5/28/2007http://davidgodman.org/interviews/nis6.shtml Leave a Comment You must be logged in to leave a comment. Enviar Caracteres: 400 About Nisargadatta - Accounts From Students of Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj There are many fascinating accounts about Nisargadatta Maharaj (1897-1981) floating around the Internet and in books. This document collects many of them into one volume, repr... (Más) Download or Print 5,614 Reads Uploaded by pakalu Síganos TIP Press Ctrl-F to quickly search anywhere in the document. 74 p. 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