The perennial truth which ancient saints experienced after introspection and passed on to successive generations by word of mouth is known as Śruti. Śruti is the divine truth which is spoken and heard. Śruti is the source of all knowledge; the source from which the Vedas and Upanishads have originated. Śruti is regarded as the supreme authority (pramāṇam) and the base on which the entire edifice of spirituality is built. Śruti is compared to a mother who teaches her children stories, parables and principles to lead them to the path of truth.

Ever since ancient times, listening constituted an effective way of gaining knowledge. After his return from pilgrimage, Sri Rama ruminated about the various aspects of life, the nature of the world and the underlying reality. When he met sage Vasishta, he raised the questions that bothered him. “Listen O Rama”, the sage said, “when desires end, when the illusion of the world goes, when bondage ceases and when the ‘I’ becomes free from all its adjuncts, the realisation of the Self dawns, and you get liberated. This realisation should be the goal of your life.” Sri Rama heard the advice of sage Vasishta and followed it in letter and spirit. Bhagavan Sri Ramana refered to Yoga Vāsishtam frequently and has even incorporated six couplets from it in his Supplement to Forty Verses (verses 21 to 27) because the advice of the sage was not meant for Sri Rama alone but for all those who are eager for knowledge of the Self.

“Is there an easy path for realisation?” asked Sanaka and his three brothers. “Yes,” said Sage Sutar, son of Brahma. The sage said that the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam shows the way for Self-realisation through devotion (bhakti), knowledge (jñāna) and dispassion (vairāgya) and ultimately liberates the devotee from the cycle of repeated life and death. He said that just by hearing the Bhāgavatam, liberation would be as perceptible as if it was in your palm. He said that just by hearing it, Lord Hari would take a permanent seat in the heart of the listener. He further said merely by listening to it, all one’s accumulated sins would get washed away. Revealed by Sri Veda Vyasa and expounded by Sage Suka, son of Sri Veda Vyasa, Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, is considered the quintessence of all Vedic scriptures. Its uniqueness lies in the emphasis it gives to the practice of listening. It is said that just by listening to the Bhagavatam, one reaches beyond the state of the sun and the moon, the transcendental state of siddhas. According to the Bhāgavatam, when King Parikshit who was cursed to die by a snake bite, was overtaken by the fear of death, Sage Suka called him near and said, “Never fear about death. The fear comes because you identify yourself with the body. You are the Atman. The Atman is eternal, it is never born and never dies.” King Parikshit heard this advice and was transformed into an enlightened jñāni. He said, “I have become free from the fear of death,” and, conveying his reverent thanks to his Guru (siddhosmi, anugrhitosmi), he said, “I have realised my Self. I am blessed.”

The Guru is the dispeller of darkness. He creates an inner awakening by means of his mere gaze or his touch or by a word. The Guru is already shining within. For an aspiring devotee, who is searching for knowledge, the Guru appears from outside, gives just one or two indicative words of advice and departs, as happened in the case of the young Venkataraman. While in school at Madurai, Venkataraman met an elderly relation and asked, “Where are you coming from?” “Arunachalam,” he replied. As soon as the word ‘Arunachalam’ fell on his ears, Venkataraman experienced the radiance of an inner light. He remained still, deeply absorbed. The word created an inner awakening in him. On further enquiry he came to know that Arunachalam is the same as Tiruvannamalai. He then set out on his journey to Arunachalam. On the fourth day, when he set foot on the temple sanctum sanctorum, it seemed as if the Lord Arunachala was waiting to welcome his much beloved son. Later, the ‘son’ asked himself, “Who has seen Arunachala?” When he sought to find the answer to this question, he could not say “I saw” because there was no ‘I’ to see. There was no seer. The distinction between the seer and the seen had gone. When he searched for the one who has seen, the seer had ceased to exist. The duality had gone.

Hiranyakashipu, the demon king, had his son Prahlada taught about his father’s greatness to impress his son about his father’s name and fame. When Prahlada returned and was asked what he had learned from his teachers, his father, who was expecting praise for himself, was in for a rude shock. His son was full of praise for Hari. Prahlad said, “To hear the names, praises and stories of Lord Vishnu, and chant them, to remember Him and His names, this is the highest form of devotion.” Among the various forms of devotion, śravaṇam occupies an important position. Śravaṇam means listening to a discourse on Vedic scriptures and Puranas, which open up the inner eyes of the audience, listening to the songs (kirtans) which kindle the light of devotion in the heart, and listening to hymns like Śrī Aruṇācala Akṣaramaṇamālai, which elevate devotees to a new world of awakening. Bhagavan has said that the moment sincere śravaṇam starts, the flame of knowledge dawns. Just as a flame is shaken by wind, knowledge is disturbed by thoughts. Therefore, the flame of knowledge should be protected by means of mananam. Mananam means the recollection or the remembrance of God and reciting God’s name so that no other thoughts come in between. The knowledge gained should shine brilliantly and brightly. This is ensured by means of nididhyāsana. As Bhagavan said, nididhyāsana is like trimming the wick of a flame. It is turning all outgoing thoughts inward. Thus, listening is the first gateway towards knowledge, leading to Self-realisation.

The Self (Atman) is always shining within, ever present (nityasiddha) and ever experienced. There is never a moment when the Self is not, but still why is the individual not able to realise it? The hindrance is the mind which takes his attention away. Even while active in satsaṅga, thoughts come and take him away to far flung areas, making it difficult for him to continue his spiritual pursuits.

Bhagavan said that the most effective tool to silence the mind is by listening to the advice of the Guru. When the attention is centred on listening, merely by the grace of the Guru, all thoughts come to a standstill. Shri Bhagavan said that one whose mind is pure, free from thoughts and free from wrong identity, experiences the truth soon after hearing it. As already said, hearing is the first step towards knowledge and there are other steps to be followed. According to Bhagavan, hearing (śravaṇam) helps our intellectual understanding of the truth. Meditation (mananam) makes this understanding clear and finally contemplation (nididhyāsana) brings about realisation of the truth.

Tirumular, the great siddha saint, said that the devotee gets real understanding upon seeing the Guru, upon reciting the name of the Guru, upon listening to the words of the Guru and upon remaining ever in thoughts of the Guru. Listening to great spiritual masters is the first step towards spiritual fulfilment. According to Swami Chinmayananda, śravaṇam (listening) means experiencing the presence of God through the ears.

“Assuming that God and Guru both come and stand before you, whom would you greet first?” Kabir said, “I will bow to the Guru first because it is the Guru who shows me God.” The Tiruvannamalai-born saint Arunagirinathar, the author of Thiruppugazh, viewed Lord Muruga not as a supreme power but as a Guru. He said in Kandhar Anubhuti, “Come as my Guru and grace me.”

According to the legend, Muruga took the role of a Guru and gave the advice on praṇava mantra to Lord Siva. In one of his songs, Arunagirinathar says, “Oh Muruga, come and share with me the same advice that you conveyed into the two ears of Lord Siva.” Here, the two ears are emphasized because listening becomes complete only when received attentively through the ears. In another verse of Kandar Anubhuti, Arunagirinathar says, “Oh Muruga, tell me how to reach a state free from all that over-shadows me (upādhis), so I become my true Self.”

From the emphasis he has given to the words ‘tell me’, it is clear that Arunagirinathar signalled his eagerness to listen. There seems to be an inexplicable link between the ears and the heart because what is heard through the ears goes directly to the heart, the centre. When we listen with one-pointed intent we feel as if we are in the centre between the ears, as if we were hovering at the heart of what is important.

For a sattva guṇa srota whose ears are receptive and whose mind is at peace, it becomes an effortless sādhana. He catches the knowledge that emanates from the teacher as instantly as a piece of cotton, taken near a flame, catches fire or as a nail kept close to a magnet acquires magnetic power. Even in the case of a tamo guṇa srota, listening is effective, though it takes a longer time. He may not have understood what he heard with his external ears. However, just as we refer to the inner eye, there is an inner ear and what is heard is stored there and the listener is enlightened at the appropriate time.

In one of his discourses, Bhagavan said, “You may be on different levels of understanding. Some of you may not be able to comprehend the full import of my discourse but still I would urge you to listen. For some of you, the words I utter may not carry any particular meaning. They may not make an immediate impact on you but they have the potential to make an impact later. The mere act of listening is enough and it will mean something to you later. My words will reach somewhere to a corner of your heart and stay there alive. They will then merge with the seed already living in the fertile field of your heart and then germinate at the right time. The words that lie dormant within will acquire meaning when you engage in similar satsaṅgas later and will lead you to the right knowledge.”

Having said this, he remained silent for a while. Apparently, the message that he conveyed got registered in the heart of the audience, because they kept coming back to attend his satsaṅga. Soon, they built bridges of understanding with him and the flower of jñāna started blooming in their hearts.

When the mind is in agitation, it does not take the transmitted message in the right perspective. This happens to a rajo guṇa srota. There was a lady whose mind was restless and who resisted anything noble and reasonable. Having heard Swami Vivekananda emphasising the need for Self-realisation, she went up to him after his speech and said, “Swamiji, I think that by repeatedly stressing an abstract theory you are trying to mesmerize us.” Swamiji smiled and replied, “Oh child, there is no need for me to mesmerize you or hypnotize you. In fact, you are already hypnotized by the illusory world. I am only trying to de-hypnotize you. I am only trying to wake you up from your slumber.” These words were enough for the lady to introspect later.

Willingness to listen is a quality that develops even from a very early stage of life. Prahlada started listening to the songs of his mother even while in her womb. Listening to the stories of Narada, he became an ardent devotee of Lord Vishnu. The story of Prahlada reminds me of an incident that happened at Palakkad, Kerala. A mother used to come to the discourse of a saint regularly, while carrying her baby. She listened to the discourse while the baby was fast asleep on her lap. Though the baby remained asleep throughout, it transpired that what was spoken registered in its brain. It was amazing when they discovered this later in his life. Over the years, the baby boy grew up and received the first basic lessons on the Vedas and the Upanishads. One day, when his mother got annoyed over a trivial issue, the boy said to her, “Find out, for whom this anger occurs.” She was taken aback. She realised that the child had used the same words which the saint had used earlier in his discourse.

Every word that comes from a Guru is worth listening to and worth contemplating on, especially when the saint happens to be a realised being like Bhagavan Sri Ramana. He used very few words. Every word conveyed deep meaning and made a profound impact. Whatever the nature of the questions, he answered them using a few words and sometime even without using any words. The seemingly complex questions that were posed looked trivial the moment he answered them. A devotee asked, “What is that one thing, knowing which all doubts are cleared?” “Know the doubter,” Bhagavan replied.

There were devotees who found happiness merely by being near Bhagavan. There were others who aspired for just a word of advice. They treated the one or two words that came from Bhagavan as an advice (upadeśa). Sri Damodaran Nair, an advocate from Palakkad was one of them. Though he read books and visited temples, he could not get the peace he looked for. On the advice of Ramdas, the saint from Anandasramam, Kanhangad, he came to Sri Ramana Maharshi. The moment he saw Bhagavan, he was convinced that he had found the Guru he was looking for. He felt that his spiritual thirst was quenched. “It was indescribable,” he said about his experience of meeting Bhagavan. After prostrating before Bhagavan in the Old Hall, he sat in a corner. He was absorbed in samādhi for two hours. As he opened his eyes, Bhagavan Ramana was answering another devotee’s query. The words, ‘teevira vairāgya’ (intense dispassion) that emanated from Bhagavan’s lips struck his mind. He took it as Bhagavan’s advice to him. He dedicated his life to the service of Bhagavan and came to be known as Swami Suresananda and the ashram he established at Palakkad came to be known as Vijnana Ramaneeya Kendram.

There was another case of a young North Indian who came to see Bhagavan on the advice of Sri Paramahamsa Yogananda. The youth came, prostrated before Bhagavan and sat with great earnestness to grasp every word that came from Bhagavan. As the loving glance of Bhagavan was directed at the boy, Bhagavan’s attendant, who was standing behind, kept on muttering something. Bhagavan then told the attendant in Tamil, “Summa irum, oiy!” (‘Keep quiet’). The youth then asked the person standing nearby what Bhagavan had just said. The person nearby translated it to mean, ‘Remain quiet and keep still’. The boy instantly accepted these words as upadeśa and quietly left. Needless to say, he followed the advice in letter and spirit.

Listening is not necessarily done through the medium of language. Truth cannot be explained but only indicated. No word or language can reveal truth as eloquently as silence. He who goes beyond words and language and listens to the sound of silence realises the truth. Sri Dakshinamurti has explained the underlying reality (Brahman) by means of silence.

Sri T.K.Sundaresa Iyer has described how Bhagavan embodied this teaching of Sri Guru Dakshinamurti.

It was a Sivaratri Day. The evening worship at the Mother’s shrine was over. The devotees had their dinner with Sri Bhagavan, who was now on His seat, the devotees at his feet sitting around him.

At 8 pm., one of the sadhus stood up, did praṇām (offered obeisance), and with folded hands prayed, “Today is Sivaratri Day; we should be highly blessed by Sri Bhagavan expounding to us the meaning of the Hymn to Dakshinamurti.”

Says Bhagavan, “Yes, sit down.”

The sadhu sat, and all eagerly looked at Sri Bhagavan and Sri Bhagavan looked at them. Sri Bhagavan sat and sat in his usual pose, no, poise. No words, no movement, and all was stillness! He sat still, and all sat still, waiting. The clock went on striking, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, one, two and three. Sri Bhagavan sat and they sat. Stillness, calmness, motionlessness — not conscious of the body, of space or time.

Thus, eight hours passed in Peace, in Silence, in Being, as It is. Thus was the Divine Reality taught through the speech of Silence by Bhagavan Sri Ramana Dakshinamurti.

At the stroke of 4 am. Sri Bhagavan quietly said, “And now have you known the essence of the Dakshinamurti Hymn?” All the devotees stood and made praṇām to the holy form of the Guru in the ecstasy of their Being.”

There is another story that illustrates the power of listening. Giri, a humble devotee, joined the group of disciples of Adi Sankara at the Sringeri Peetham. Though Giri was not well versed in scriptural knowledge, he was a good listener when Adi Sankara spoke. He regularly attended the satsaṅga. One day, someone commented that they need not wait for Giri, who was late, as he seemed dull. But later, the grace of the jagadguru and the constant listening by Giri transformed him into an enlightened sage, called ‘Totakacharya’. Thus, quite often, the link between the ear and the heart is established without even an mechanical mental understanding.

Once, when Bhagavan was explaining Upadeśa Sāram to a four-year child, the poet Muruganar wondered whether the child could understand what even scholars found difficult to comprehend. Bhagavan then said, “Do you think that the comprehension of a truth is possible only by means of intellectual understanding?” Muruganar then realised that the intellect does not necessarily play any role in the comprehension of the truth. It is the Heart, the seat of the Self, that holds, like a magnet what is heard through the ears.

Courtesy: Mountain Path