Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, by Suri Nagamma

Accordingly on the afternoon of the 20th, Bhagavan came
there. That day I happened to be there a little earlier than
usual. When I went in by the main gate there was an
uncommon activity in the front hall. I went to the verandah
eagerly and found that Bhagavan was seated on the sofa. His
face was not radiant as usual. I was wondering why it was so. I
could not ask anybody.

The Sarvadhikari was standing opposite Bhagavan’s sofa
with his friends and some important people amongst Ashram
workers and was saying something. Bhagavan was merely
saying ‘Yes, yes,’ in a noncommittal manner. I hesitated to
go in under those circumstances and so stood in the
verandah. Bhagavan had noticed through the window my
coming and my hesitation to enter the hall. Ten minutes
elapsed by the time all of them left. Subsequently Sivanandam
alone was there near Bhagavan. Two or three people who
had recently arrived were seated at a distance. Bhagavan
was looking intently at the ceiling of the hall and at the huge
stones that were being chiselled outside. I went in, prostrated
and got up. Bhagavan looked at me and with a voice full of
kindness, said, “Do you see this? They have imprisoned me
within these four walls. They have made me a prisoner by
preventing other people from coming in. Look! There is no
scope for anyone to come in.” So saying, he looked up at the
ceiling, which had no outlet or inlet any where and said,
“How can they (the squirrels) come here?” He continued to
stare at the ceiling. I stood absolutely dumbfounded on
realising his way of looking at things. Sivanandam, who was
close by, said, “The Sarvadhikari and others feel that if
Bhagavan is here he will be protected from rain or hot
sunshine outside.” Bhagavan whose look was concentrated
on the ceiling, came to with a start when he heard those
words and looking at Sivanandam, said, “That’s all right. If
we look to our comfort, is it not at the expense of the
sufferings of others? Squirrels, monkeys, peacocks, cows and
others have no chance of coming here. Does it not mean
that we have deprived them all of their privileges? People
think that it is a great happiness for Swami if he is here.

What is to be done?” Bhagavan’s voice became tremulous.

The attendant took up the thread of the conversation and
said, “Yes, that is true. Only human beings can come in;
animals and birds cannot come in freely.” Bhagavan did not
say anything.

After sometime, some rich devotees came and sat opposite
Bhagavan. One or two poor people came after them but were
afraid to come in. Noticing this through the windows,
Bhagavan said to his attendants, “There you are. Look at those
people. You said there was every convenience for men to come
in. Is there scope for all people to come in? Rich people are
accustomed to see huge buildings with lights, fans, collapsible
doors and other imposing furnishings, and so they come inside
unhesitatingly. But poor people like me will hesitate to come
in, for they feel that it is a place where only rich people live.

They are afraid of what people would say if they come in, and
so, go away quietly like those people who, as you see, are
peeping through the windows. Where is the place for them
here? See those poor people! What a pity!” Unable to say
anything further Bhagavan resumed silence.

As soon as it was evening, he sent away some of his
attendants saying that the evening was the time when all of
them (monkeys, peacocks, etc.) come here. “They may
perhaps think that Swami has given them the slip and gone
elsewhere. Please go. What a pity! Go, give them at least
some food and come back.” As soon as the attendants
returned after feeding them, Bhagavan remarked with a
tremulous voice, “Have you fed them all? They will perhaps
feel that Swami has deserted them and has gone away to a
better place and is sitting there so that he alone can be happy.

Perhaps they thought that I had forgotten them. There is no
scope for them to come here. What to do?” Whenever any
animals or birds come to him, he would always say, “We do
not know who they are,” and would never look at them with
indifference. If any of the attendants do not give them proper
attention he would not tolerate it, but would say, “That is
bad. You merely see the skin that covers the body but not
the person that is within. You feel that you are great, and
the others are small, and so try to drive them away. They
have come here just as we have come. Why do they not have
the same rights that we have?” He used to admonish them
thus. It is not surprising that Bhagavan feels compassionate
towards the animals and the poor who do not venture to
come into this new hall with all these lights, fans, iron doors,
guards and other paraphernalia. You see, samadarsatvam, i.e.,
looking at all living beings with equality, is but natural to
Bhagavan.