Sri K. K. Nambiar was a Keralite who came to Bhagvan in 1932, while serving as an Assistant Engineer at Salem, about 120 kms from Tiruvannamalai. He was immediately recognised among devotees for his many compelling dreams of Bhagavan which revealed that Bhagavan does not just work in the conventional realm of human speech.

He first heard of Bhagavan through a friend returning from a pilgrimage who left him a Malayalam copy of Who am I? Nambiar, then absorbed in official duties, sports and hunting, merely glanced through it. The reference to a living Maharshi struck him as improbable. He knew of sages in the Puranas, but doubted that such beings could exist in modern times.

A colleague, Ellappa Chettiar, assured him that the Maharshi was indeed living at Tiruvannamalai and suggested that they visit. On entering the darshan hall, Nambiar prostrated before Bhagavan, who was reclining on the couch. No words passed between them, but Nambiar immediately felt an indescribable calm:

I sat transfixed to the spot. Mr. Chettiar who was also sitting nearby got up after about an hour and signalled that it was time for us to go back. We took leave of Bhagavan who nodded assent. On leaving the Ashram, I felt that my heart was being irresistibly attracted, as though by a mighty spiritual magnet towards that Divinity in human form seated on the sofa. My feeling at that time can best be expressed in the words of Poet Kalidasa: “The body goes forward, but the restless heart runs backward like the china-cloth of a banner which is being carried against the wind.”

The visit shattered Nambiar’s former scepticism and awakened a longing to return. A year later, circumstances appeared to assist him. His brother-in-law, Dr P. C. Nambiar, was appointed to the hospital at Tiruvannamalai, allowing K.K. Nambiar^[1] frequent opportunities to visit. Nambiar’s elder sister, Smt. Madhavi Amma, immediately recognised the significance of the Maharshi. Her sceptical husband strongly objected, sometimes scattering the offerings she had prepared for Bhagavan. His attitude changed when Bhagavan developed an abscessed tooth and summoned him.

Entering the Hall dressed formally in a suit, the doctor simply said, “Bhagavan, vaayai thora”—“open your mouth”—to the amusement of devotees.^[2] After treating Bhagavan, he became transformed.

He no longer opposed his wife’s visits, and began accompanying her to the Ashram to prostrate and meditate. He even felt that the hand which had touched the Maharshi performed surgical work more successfully thereafter.

Thus K.K. Nambiar, his elder sister and his brother-in-law, P. C. Nambiar, all came to Bhagavan around the same time.

The Happiest Meal

During one visit, K.K. Nambiar sponsored a bhiksha for the Ashram community and visitors. Through the natural arrangement of seating, he found himself directly opposite Bhagavan, with less than a metre between their meal leaf plates.

As usual Bhagavan was to be served first. When rice was brought before his leaf, a small ball of rice rolled into his leaf even before the person had started serving him:

Bhagavan looked at me smiling and said athu thane viluthu “it falls by itself.” This remark from Sri Bhagavan, gave me supreme delight, and I can still recall the ecstasy I felt while partaking of that meal right in front of him, face to face with him. That was the happiest meal in my life.

Life-style Changes

As Nambiar’s devotion deepened, his habits began to change. He had been enthusiastic about hunting and owned several firearms. One day, after shooting a spotted deer in the Hogenakkal forest, he brought the carcass back to the travellers’ bungalow where he was staying.

An ochre-robed swami in an adjoining room saw the animal and spoke with emotion: “Look at the eyes of that deer. How pathetic! If you must shoot an animal, shoot a bear or tiger. Do not kill such innocent creatures.”

Nambiar received these words as though they had come directly from Bhagavan. He laid aside his rifle and revolver and vowed never again to kill an animal. His encounter with the Maharshi was thus not confined to inward feeling; it gradually altered his conduct.

A New Posting

Nambiar continued praying for greater opportunities to remain near Bhagavan. He was then unexpectedly transferred to Tiruvannamalai itself.

This seemed almost impossible in ordinary administrative circumstances, since Tiruvannamalai was not then a district headquarters where a District Engineer would normally be stationed. But in 1936 the Government of Madras experimentally divided several large districts. North Arcot was bifurcated and Tiruvannamalai was made headquarters of the southern portion:

I was chosen as the District Board Engineer for Tiruvannamalai District and asked to start an office at Tiruvannamalai town itself. I had not even dreamt of such a thing until I received the posting orders. Sri Bhagavan’s grace brought me to his abode in this unexpected manner.

Now Nambiar could visit Ramanasramam almost every day. The proximity deepened the gradual transformation already taking place within him.

A senior colleague whom Nambiar brought several times to the Ashram eventually declined further visits, fearing that further contact with Bhagavan might give him a distaste for worldly life and cause him to abandon his career. Nambiar believed this fear to be unfounded. Bhagavan never required devotees to renounce employment or family responsibilities. Rather, his influence made life’s duties easier to bear and less oppressive.

Surrender

As Nambiar’s confidence grew, he began occasionally speaking with Bhagavan. At one point, he wrote in Sanskrit, “I have no other refuge; you are my only support Oh Ramaneshwara! Therefore, have mercy on me and protect me.” Nambiar comments:

Bhagavan took it up, read it with a smile and gave it back commenting upon a parody I had made in the well-known sloka. When I resumed my seat, Sri Bhagavan was steadily looking at me. The gracious look directed at me set my mind completely at rest.

Nambiar came increasingly to regard Bhagavan as divinity in human form. His devotion was reinforced by encounters with other distinguished visitors. Douglas Ainslie, known at the Ashram as Grant Duff, told him that those born in India during Bhagavan’s lifetime were extraordinarily fortunate. Having studied comparative religion, Ainslie believed that Bhagavan’s Advaitic philosophy was uniquely capable of withstanding the scrutiny of the modern scientific age.

Nambiar became acquainted with Yogi Ramiah, Paul Brunton, Major Chadwick and Munagala S. Venkataramiah, all who arrived in the early to mid-1930s which enabled Nambiar to be part of a remarkable international circle of seekers drawn to Bhagavan.

Dream of the Notebook

One of the better-known incidents in Nambiar’s life concerns a dream about a notebook.

One evening at the Ashram, he wished to ask Bhagavan whether he should continue reciting hymns and practising japa. During the solemn period of Vedic chanting and meditation, however, he could not bring himself to disturb the silence. He returned home disappointed.

Early the following morning, in a vivid dream, he saw Bhagavan sitting on a lawn surrounded by Brahmin boys:

Bhagavan was reciting some Sanskrit verses which the boys were repeating. Actually, he was reciting Shyamala-Dandakam itself which I used to recite. This appeared to me a straight answer from Bhagavan to the question I had failed to put to him the previous night. Then the scene changed in the dream. The boys doing parayana were not there. Bhagavan beckoned me to go near him and asked me for a notebook to write something. When I told him that I had only an octavo size notebook ready to spare, he said that would be fine. The dream ended there, but it made such a deep impression on my mind that I could not delay carrying out the behest, however strange it might seem to others.

 After an early bath, I traced out the spare notebook, dusted it off and hurried to the Ashram. Prostrating before Bhagavan as usual I handed over the notebook. He received it smilingly and asked me what made me bring it along. I related to him in a whisper all about the dream I had early that morning.

Immediately he called his personal attendant and asked, “Madhava, did I not ask you last evening to fetch a notebook to write down a Malayalam Translation of the Sanskrit text of Ramana Gita? You didn’t bring it. Here is Nambiar who has brought it for me”.

Bhagavan asked Nambiar to recount the dream aloud so that everyone in the hall could hear it. The notebook was subsequently used for Bhagavan’s translation and became one of Nambiar’s treasured relics, now preserved in the Ashram’s archives.^[3]

Guidance through Dream

A similar incident occurred shortly afterwards. Nambiar dreamt of a young Goan devotee named Sridhar sitting before Bhagavan and practising intense pranayama. In the dream, Nambiar saw sparks of fire rising along the devotee’s spine. Bhagavan remarked that such gymnastics of breath control were unnecessary and that Self-enquiry was easier and safer.

The next day Nambiar sought out Sridhar and told him what he had seen. The young man became deeply emotional and embraced him. He explained that he had long practised pranayama and had been waiting for an opportunity to ask Bhagavan whether he should continue. The previous night he had sat in the hall hoping to raise the question but had found no occasion. He accepted Nambiar’s dream as Bhagavan’s answer.

The two became friends. Sridhar later received sannyasa from Swami Ramdas and became Gurudevananda. During a later journey together to Swami Omkar’s Shanti Ashram, East Godavari district in Andhra Pradesh, Nambiar experienced the sacred syllable Om as a flood of light enveloping him.

This episode reinforced his conviction that Bhagavan had many ways of instructing devotees. Verbal discourse was only one of them. Guidance might arise through silence, dreams, another person’s words or a sudden inward certainty.^[4]

 Silent Instruction

Nambiar increasingly saw the Ashram as a place where doubts were resolved and aspirants were guided without any fixed or predictable method. Bhagavan sometimes spoke at length to sincere seekers, quoting scriptures and explaining subtle points. At other times, especially when questions arose from vanity or intellectual display, he remained silent or gave a brief reply that exposed the questioner’s superficial understanding.

Nambiar told Bhagavan of an unusual experience:

One day while sitting with eyes closed in meditation in the hall, I had a sensation of numbness creeping all over my body and I saw my own skeleton as in an X-ray picture. I spoke to Bhagavan about it. He said that I should not give any attention to such things, but should intensely continue the meditation without being distracted.

On another occasion, an elderly visitor recited a Sanskrit verse declaring that he was not the body, senses, breath or mind. He then complained that he still felt pain when bitten by an insect. Bhagavan sharply asked, “Who said you are not the body?” The reply exposed the difference between verbally repeating a truth and actually realising it.

A group from Lahore likewise arrived with written questions about God-realisation and the methods recommended by Bhagavan. They sat impatiently while he remained silent. When Paul Brunton suggested that the answers could be found in Ashram books, the leader angrily dismissed the idea, unaware that the man he was rebuking was Brunton. Later, when the party requested an interview with Brunton and discovered his identity, their anger subsided and they apologised.

The incident suggests that Bhagavan’s silence itself could function as a mirror. It brought hidden impatience, pride and expectation to the surface, revealing the questioner to himself.

Miracles and Divine Action

Nambiar once asked why saints did not openly perform miracles to convince modern materialists of spiritual truths. The miracles of Christ, he argued, had played an important role in the growth of Christianity; perhaps similar demonstrations could lead sceptics towards faith.Bhagavan perused his note and replied by putting a counter-question “Did those saints of yore, referred to as having performed miracles, know and act as though they were performing those miracles?”

The answer redirected attention from personal supernatural power to impersonal divine action.

Bhagavan repeatedly warned seekers that fascination with siddhis could divert them from Self-realisation. Yet unusual events occurred around him. When such events were reported, he generally attributed them to automatic divine action rather than individual agency. Things just happened in his presence:

One morning while we were all seated in the hall, a gentleman brought a fairly large-size photograph of Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni and presented it to the Maharshi. Maharshi while receiving the photo exclaimed that it was only the previous day that the Ashram had received a Telegram that Nayana had attained Maha Samadhi at his Ashram at Nimpura near Kharagpur. The messenger who brought the picture was taken aback as he did not know about it. He had left Nimpura a few days earlier and had no knowledge of it.

Such incidents confirmed for Nambiar that life was governed by a deeper intelligence than the human mind could perceive.

The Dream of Rescue

Another of Nambiar’s significant dreams was one in which he found himself trapped at the bottom of a filthy manhole. An unseen hand grasped him by the head, lifted him high into the air and carried him to an Ashram near a hill.

He understood the dream as a symbol of Bhagavan lifting him out of the degraded life he had previously led and bringing him to the spiritual path. The image remained with him throughout his life as an assurance of protection and transformation.

Decades later, in 1981, an odd incident recalled the dream. While speaking with the devotee, Joan Greenblatt, near the Ramanasramam post office, Nambiar described how drops of filth had fallen upon his arm while he was being lifted from the manhole. At that exact moment, drops from a crow above fell upon the same place on his arm. Both he and Joan looked up in amazement.

Nambiar did not insist upon a rational explanation. He simply asked, if such things were only coincidences, what then should be called a miracle?

In Bhagavan’s Presence

Nambiar witnessed visitors becoming intensely emotional in Bhagavan’s presence. Some trembled, entered ecstatic states or lost control of their bodies. One woman rushed towards Bhagavan as though possessed and had to be restrained. Bhagavan generally remained silent and calm.

A striking case involved R. D. N. Simham, the Director of Town Planning in Madras. Simham initially declined to visit the Ashram, saying that he already saw Bhagavan inwardly during his early morning practices. On the final day of an official visit, however, he changed his mind.

At the Ashram, he stood before Bhagavan trembling, holding a paper in his folded hands. Eventually he sat cross-legged directly before Bhagavan. Suddenly he began violently striking his thighs against the floor, creating loud sounds. Some devotees feared that he had been bitten by a snake or scorpion and moved to assist him. Bhagavan simply said, “Leave him alone.”

Within moments Simham became quiet, rose and prostrated before Bhagavan. He then resumed his seat in a normal state. He never explained the experience.

For Nambiar such episodes strengthened the impression that Bhagavan’s presence worked directly upon the hidden depths of those who approached him. Yet Bhagavan himself claimed no personal power. He remained the silent, unmoving centre around which intense transformations occurred.

Bhagavan’s Guidance

In his reminiscences, Nambiar presents Bhagavan not merely as a teacher, but as a living presence guiding every aspect of a devotee’s life. His grace appeared through peace in the Hall, personal transformation, unexpected circumstances, dreams and striking coincidences. Yet its deepest expression was the gradual reorientation of Nambiar’s life towards detachment, meditation and surrender.

Bhagavan never encouraged fascination with visions, miracles or psychic experiences. Their value lay only in strengthening faith, dispelling fear and turning the devotee inward towards Self-enquiry—the direct path to the source of the “I.”

For Nambiar, the Guru’s guidance assumed countless forms, all revealing one compassionate intelligence patiently drawing the seeker towards the Self. — 

                       (to be continued)

[Editor’s note: The above is taken from the Ramanasramam publication of Nambiar’s account of his life with Bhagavan, entitled, The Guiding Presence of Sri Ramana. In July–August of 1983, at the request of the Ramana Kendra, Madras, Nambiar delivered a series of talks recounting over five decades of devotion and service.
Nambiar relates that after a serious illness in July the previous year, he experienced Bhagavan’s grace as a constant inner presence, free from fear. With growing interest from devotees and from V. Ganesan, then editor of The Mountain Path, these reminiscences were published by the Ashram.

Footnotes

^[1] Nambiar is a clan name. Neither K.K. Nambiar’s full name nor that of Dr. P.C. Nambiar is mentioned in the Ashram literature.

^[2] Devotees chuckled because, in Tamil, thora is used for youngsters. The well-intending doctor, a Malayalam speaker, in whose language thora is used for all, did not know that he should have used the formal thoranga for someone of Bhagavan’s stature.

^[3] The archives’ digital scans of this notebook are currently unavailable.

^[4] See also, Day by Day, p. 246; My Recollections of Bhagavan, p. 129.