Tiru's chronicle
Ramana Garden is deeply connected to Tiruvannamalai, its mythical mountain Arunachala and the one who for us is its human representation, Ramana Maharshi. One way to maintain this link is to offer you a monthly column recounting aspects of life on the spot, at the ashram, in the streets of the city or somewhere in Tamil Nadu.
THE CHRONICLE OF TIRU
by our correspondent on site Sylvia
My greatest joy in the morning is to join the ashram of Ramana Maharshi. But before passing its rounded porch and enjoying the serenity of the place conducive to introspection, I have to cross the main street and its incredible hubbub of horns.In India, the horn is the most common form of language and the only one I really understand. Everything on the road blares and each vehicle has its own tone. A joyful cacophony, astonishing but apparently indispensable. To reach Ramanashramam I have to cut through the endless stream of vehicles, reset my brain so that it does not forget that the Indians drive on the left and above all quickly realize that neither bike, scooter, tuktuk, car, truck, nor bus won't brake for me.
Fortunately, I have several solutions!
Unfortunately the cow is not always in the right place at the right time, so my last solution is the group of women with children who like me are studying the situation. I casually join in but I'm always unmasked and I'm treated to a compassionate smile and a small wave of the hand committing me to follow the movement when it is necessary to rush to the other side.You tell yourself that I could have relied on the grace of Ramana and crossed with my eyes closed. I thought about it very briefly but strangely I did not try the experiment…
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So I arrived unscathed every day at the ashram to enjoy this extraordinary place. Past the arch, I leave all the noise of the world behind me and especially all my inner noise, everything
is perfect and nothing matters more than to taste the joy of being there. Heart pounding, I lay down my flip-flops in the middle of dozens of others and I cross the courtyard without forgetting to greet the illupai, the venerable 400-year-old tree that sits at the entrance and which amazes me every time . Going up the few steps in front of the bookstore, I admire Arunachala who overlooks the ashram with his immutable presence, on my left a peacock proudly resting on a low wall ignores my admiring gaze, on my right I smile at a little macaque, totally indifferent to my delight. I feel the warm ground under my bare feet, my gaze slides over the faces of the very numerous devotees at this time of the year and I finally arrive in front of the imposing Samadhi of Ramana and its golden statue.
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I could describe this magnificent sanctuary to you, tell you about the imposing granite pillars, the lingam, the thousands of flowers, the superb photos of Ramana on the walls, the meditators on the marble floor, the daily pujas, but that would tell you nothing that happens HERE. It is inside that the magic happens. Who am I ?
Be there...
Simply present...
Open heart...
Calm...
OM Namo Bhagavate Shri Ramanaya
This is my second stay in Tiruvannamalai and I feel an intense joy. I come back with my sister. India welcomes itself wholeheartedly, without judgment or state of mind. Everything comes together without filter, life, death, the worst and the best, a whole loud and noisy frenzy. I particularly like to walk the streets and let myself be caught up in the dizzying atmosphere, full of colors, noise, smells with a crowd of a thousand faces.
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The first is to put my hand in my sister's. There are gifts that cannot be explained because my sister knows how to slip between two mopeds, three cars and a bus at the right time. She knows how to stop in the middle of the road to avoid collision with the tuktuk, walk or run quickly on the sidewalk opposite. My hand in my sister's, it's me becoming a little girl again in total confidence, in absolute letting go but it's above all the assurance of arriving safely.
If I am alone, I have another possibility, to follow a cow.For cows, all traffic stops. Besides, they know it. These four-legged young ladies who roam all over the city do not ask themselves any questions before crossing. Yet I assure you that even dogs look twice, once to the right, twice to the left. Sometimes they just give up. Not the cows ! In Tiru they are queens, they go about their business placidly, occasionally jostling you to pass, rummaging quietly in the garbage, taking a nap where they want and crossing slowly. Following a cow is a guarantee of finding yourself unscathed on the other side.
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