During the Master’s lifetime, the practise existed in the Ashram for devotees to send in letters asking for all manners and varieties of things. Most begged for Bhagavan’s blessings in their endeavours, and specifically would mention that the sheet carrying the reply be sanctified by his hallowed touch.

Many wrote wanting their prayers or wishes to be fulfilled. Others solicited clarification on doctrinal points. Yet other epistles carried doubts raised regarding practice. Sri Bhagavan was not in the habit of answering letters. An intelligent brahmin attached to the Ashram was in the habit of attending to the last two varieties of correspondence. Invariably most, letters written in European tongues would fall into his hands to be tackled appropriately. He would write and read out his replies to the Master.

When I was maintaining these diaries, I would write them down after a natural, syndicated fashion; thus in this manuscript, you behold amalgamated and mingled the content of these letters together with questions asked directly in the Hall. This need not be understood as causing any detriment in the authenticity of the content of these diaries. While it is true that the replies were drafted by another, the master listened to them with great keenness, and if he wanted any modifications, deletions, or additions to be made, he indicated so at once.

He did not mind delivering a rap on the knuckles to the man should Bhagavan in the slightest feel that there was any correction or other alteration required to be made. So, in substance, the answers given in the letters are also his words. Thus at the time of writing these diaries it never occurred to me to create a split on the basis of what would merely be a theoretical consideration exclusively. Now, whilst compiling this work, it occurs to me suddenly that certain readers might be anxious for such a bifurcation to be available from the text.

I have neither the resource nor the resourcefulness to re-type this manuscript ab initio; thus I have resorted to the following strategy: as to that part of this manuscript which falls on or before this date [of the diary-entry], a separate sheet has been attached specifying the identification-numbers of those pages and paragraphs which embody content that – to the best of my memory – represents the master’s ‘indirect words’, if one may so put it; and as to that part thereof which falls after, I am using an alternate type-basket of the font-variety Clarendon to mark out, as facilitated to be determined by an optimal capability of the faculty of my memory, distinctly such ‘indirect words’, whereas the rest of the matter is typed out as usual in the font-variety Frakturschrift.

Generally, a sizeable portion of long, lecture-like pronouncements herein are from the brahmin who was at the time in charge of the “doctrinal- and foreign-correspondence departments” of the Ashram. In truth, I am taking so much trouble to make this bifurcation discernible, only to satisfy a chance whim of any Ramana-devotee who might happen to have to be able to tell. Actually it is all thoroughly unnecessary, as far as my opinion goes; not a single letter could leave the Ashram without the master’s express imprimatur; and the master was not the sort to show neglect in any matter.

The brahmin was quite an educated fellow and had a brilliant insight into Bhagavan’s teachings, and frequently acted as his interpreter unto Caucasian visitors. Above all, he seems to have been personally selected by the master himself for the correspondence-management task in the doing of which he engaged himself; that ought to say the final word upon the matter. 

BLUTKEIM’s Note: What you are reading is the content of text files – to be exact, .wsd files generated by WordStar, which had to be converted into text files so that they could be made intelligible to modern-day word processors. There is no font information available with me. No trace was found of the separate identification sheet mentioned above.

Late in the evening today, the sarvadhikari [manager] requested the master to formally oversee and approve of the preparations the Ashram has made, for the celebrations arranged for tomorrow. Tomorrow is the 40th anniversary of the day on which the master is said to have attained Eternal Union with Arunachala: 1st September, 1896.
            Many devotees, Indians as well as Caucasians, have gathered together here now, and the place is overflowing with people. Many items required for the day have been procured from the town in a bullock-cart. The Hall has been decorated profusely with clusters of mango-leaves strung together with jute-yarn, and using wet-flour and red-dye decorative patterns have been drawn across the floor throughout the Ashram.
            Amid all the hustle and bustle, Bhagavan’s thought is this: I observe him taking the sarvadhikari aside and telling him seriously,
‘Don’t forget to consider the monkeys, the cows, and the crows in planning tomorrow’s culinary arrangements; also, suitable additional quantity of vellachcheedais must be unfailingly prepared for the rats…’

The sarvadhikari merely nods meekly and says, ‘Yes, Bhagawan…’.

1st September 1936

The anniversary-event today went grandly. A shadow puppetry group from Madras, accompanied by a musical troupe, showed us all the different Avatars of Vishnu, which flitted by on a screen, which was a simple cotton vaetti [cloth]. The dark figures moved on the screen to the accoutrement of matching music from the instrument-players. The life of each Avatar went on for circa 10 minutes, the performance being given in the Hall itself.
              The group had come on their own from Madras – nobody had invited them. The sarvadhikari was highly pleased. Bhagavan also seemed to like the show. Keeping time to the music, he went on tapping the ear-rings of the kumuti [metal stove] used to burn sambarani in the Hall. It was a great joy to watch his nimble fingers move back-and-fro, striking at the iron rings in perfect rhythm. He was being so sensitive in paying attention to the melody that according to the varying pitch of the music, different fingers were used to hit the rings.
               Not once did those delicately beautiful fingers miss their mark; yet – all the while – he was looking exclusively at the vaetti, and never at his hands! The feat of concentration enthralled but did not surprise me; I am aware he is a proven sahasravadhani, which is not a fact that many people know about the master – and he, of course, would never call attention to himself; moreover: “With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.”

Chadwick: [ to SS Cohen] Mr . Prendergast exhausted half his film – roll yesterday on taking pictures of the anniversary celebrations. If he does not frank off the prints to the Ashram soon, the sarvadhikari will pounce on my throat and gobble me up alive, because he entrusted me with the responsibility of communicating to the fellow the rule at the Ashram that whatever photographs are taken here, one complete set of prints must be handed over. I told him once and reminded him twice, I think. Hope he does not let me down . . . [meanderingly] I have always been in support of their Saorstät cause, he ought to like me . . .

E.Z.: The Mees chap from Holland who visited early this year sent in his prints of Bhagawan promptly, I remember . . .

C.: Yes, he had a funny bellows – type machine of the olden – day variety, remember? I think it was a Tourist Multiple . . .

presently astonished the Hall by saying at this precise moment,
Oh! no; it was a Kodak Anastigmat. ”

All this while he had been fixedly staring into vacant space, and nobody would have guessed that he had been paying any attention to the usual trifling late – night chatter going on in the Hall! This is yet another instance which demonstrates that nothing and nobody escapes the attention of the master, although he might appear disconnected, aloof, or uninterested prima facie. .