S. Ramaswamier Meets Master Morya in Sikkim
Oct 18, 2008 10:43 PM
S. Ramaswamier writes about his meeting with the Master Morya in
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.
Quoted from my book THE ESOTERIC WORLD OF MADAME BLAVATSKY
[Back to Top]
Dedicated to the Theosophical Philosophy and its Practical Application