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S. Ramaswamier Meets Master Morya in Sikkim

Oct 18, 2008 10:43 PM
by danielhcaldwell

S. Ramaswamier writes about his meeting with the Master Morya in 

S. Ramaswamier
September?October 1882
Darjeeling, India, and later in Sikkim
My health having been disturbed by official work and worry, I applied 
for leave on medical certificate and it was duly granted. One day in 
September last, while I was reading in my room [in the town of 
Tinnevelly, southern India], I was ordered by the audible voice of my 
blessed Guru, [Morya], to leave all and proceed immediately to 
Bombay, whence I had to go in search of Madame Blavatsky wherever I 
could find her and follow her wherever she went. Without losing a 
moment, I closed up all my affairs and left the station. Arrived at 
Bombay, I found Madame Blavatsky gone. Really not knowing whither I 
had best go, I took a through ticket to Calcutta; but, on reaching 
Allahabad, I heard the same well-known voice directing me to go to 

On the 23rd [of September], I was brought by Nobin Babu from Calcutta 
to Chandernagore, where I found Madame Blavatsky, ready to start with 
the train. When the train arrived, she got into the carriage. I 
myself had barely the time to jump into the last carriage.

The first days of her arrival [at Darjeeling] Madame Blavatsky was 
living at the house of a Bengalee gentleman, a Theosophist; was 
refusing to see any one. To all our importunities we could get only 
this answer from her: that we had no business, to stick to and follow 
her, that she did not want us, and that she had no right to disturb 
the Mahatmas with all sorts of questions.

In despair, I determined, come what might, to cross the frontier, 
which is about a dozen miles from here, and find the Mahatmas, or?
DIE. Without breathing a word of my intentions to anyone, one 
morning, namely, October 5, I set out in search of the Mahatma. The 
same afternoon I reached the banks of the Rungit River, which forms 
the boundary between the British and Sikkim territories.

That whole afternoon I traveled on foot, penetrating further and 
further into the heart of the Sikkim Territory, along a narrow foot-
path. I travelled before dusk not less than twenty or twenty-five 
miles. Throughout, I saw nothing but impenetrable jungles and forests 
on all sides of me, relieved at very long intervals by solitary huts 
belonging to the mountain population.

At dusk I began to search around me for a place to rest in at night. 
After a sound sleep, undisturbed by any dream, I woke and found it 
was just dawning.

I lost no time. When it became quite light, I wended my way on 
through hills and dales.

It was, I think, between eight and nine am, and I was following the 
road to the town of Sikkim, whence, I was assured by the people I met 
on the road, I could cross over to Tibet easily in my pilgrim's garb 
when I suddenly saw a solitary horseman galloping towards me from the 
opposite direction. From his tall stature and the expert way he 
managed the animal, I thought he was some military officer of the 
Sikkim Raja. Now, I thought, am I caught. But as he approached me, he 
reined the steed. I looked at and recognized him instantly. I was in 
the presence of my own revered Guru. The very same instant saw me 
prostrated on the ground at his feet. I arose at his command and, 
leisurely looking into his face, I forgot myself entirely. I knew not 
what to say: joy and reverence tied my tongue. I was at last face to 
face with "the Mahatma of the Himavat" and he was no myth. It was no 
night dream; it is between nine and ten o'clock of the forenoon. 
There is the sun shining and silently witnessing the scene from above.

He speaks to me in accents of kindness and gentleness. Nor was it 
until a few moments later that I was drawn to utter a few words, 
encouraged by his gentle tone and speech. Never have I seen a 
countenance so handsome, a stature so tall and so majestic. He wears 
a short black beard, and long black hair hanging down to his breast. 
He wore a yellow mantle lined with fur, and, on his head a yellow 
Tibetan felt cap.

When the first moments of rapture and surprise were over and I calmly 
comprehended the situation, I had a long talk with him. He told me to 
go no further, for I would come to grief. He said I should wait 
patiently if I wanted to become an accepted Chela.

The Mahatma, I found, speaks very little English?or at least it so 
seemed to me?and spoke to me in my mother-tongue?Tamil. I asked the 
blessed Mahatma whether I could tell what I saw and heard to others. 
He replied in the affirmative. He was pleased to say when I offered 
my farewell namaskarams (prostration) that he approached the British 
Territory to see [HPB].

Before he left me, two more men came on horseback, his attendants I 
suppose, probably Chelas, for they were dressed like himself, with 
long hair streaming down their backs. They followed the Mahatma, as 
he left, at a gentle trot.

For over an hour I stood gazing at the place that he had just 
quitted, and then, I slowly retraced my steps. I had eaten nothing 
since the day before, and I was too weak to walk further. My whole 
body was aching in every limb. At a little distance I saw petty 
traders with country ponies, taking burden. I hired one of these 
animals. In the afternoon I came to the Rungit River and crossed it. 
A bath in its cool waters renovated me. I purchased some fruit in the 
only bazaar there and ate them heartily. I took another horse 
immediately and reached Darjeeling late in the evening.

I could neither eat, nor sit, nor stand. Every part of my body was 
aching. My absence had seemingly alarmed Madame Blavatsky. She 
scolded me for my rash and mad attempt to try to go to Tibet, after 
this fashion. I recounted all that had happened to me.
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