After my final experience in the Maharshi’s presence, my outer life went on much as before. I went back to Ma­dras, carried on with my job, and supported my family to the best of my ability. At weekends, or when I had accu­mulated enough leave, I would go back to Tiruvannamalai, sit at the feet of my Master and bask in his radiant pres­ence. The cynical, sceptical seeker who had aggressively confronted the Maharshi on his first visit, had gone for good. All that remained was love for him.

In the first few months after my realisation, I didn’t have a single thought. I could go to the office and perform all my duties without ever having a thought in my head. It was the same when I went to Tiruvannamalai. Whether I was sitting in the hall with the Maharshi, walking around the mountain or shopping in town, everything I did was performed without any mental activity at all. There was an ocean of inner silence that never gave rise to even a ripple of thought. It did not take me long to realise that a mind and thoughts are not necessary to function in the world. When one abides as the Self, some divine power takes charge of one’s life. All actions then take place spontane­ously, and are performed very efficiently, without any mental effort or activity.

I often brought my family and business colleagues to the ashram at weekends. Out of all the people I brought, the Maharshi seemed to be particularly fond of my daugh­ter. She had learned quite good Tamil during her time in Madras, so she could converse with him in his native lan­guage. They used to laugh and play together whenever we visited.

On one of my visits she sat in front of the Maharshi and went into what appeared to be a deep meditative trance. When the bell for lunch went, I was unable to rouse her. The Maharshi advised me to leave her in peace, so we went off to eat without her. When we came back she was still in the same place in the same state. She spent several more hours in this condition before returning to her nor­mal waking state.

Major Chadwick had been watching all this with great interest. After her experience ended, he approached the Maharshi and said, ‘I have been here for more than ten years, but I have never had an experience like this. This seven-year-old girl seems to have had this experience with­out making any effort at all. How can this be?’

The Maharshi merely smiled and said, ‘How do you know that she is not older than you?’
After this intense experience my daughter fell in love with the Maharshi and became very attached to his form.

Before we left she told him, ‘You are my father. I am not going back to Madras. I will stay here with you.’

The Maharshi smiled and said, ‘No, you cannot stay here. You must go back with your real father. Go to school, finish your education, and then you can come back if you want to.’

The experience had a profound impact on her life. Just a few weeks ago I overheard her telling someone in our kitchen that not a day has passed since then without some memory of that event. But if you ask her about it, she can’t give any kind of answer. If anyone asks her, ‘What hap­pened that day when you were in a trance in front of the Maharshi?’ her response is always the same. She just starts crying. She has never been able to describe or explain, even to me, what exactly happened.