In Profile: Swami Ramanagiri (Part II)

In the last segment, we began with a brief glimpse of Swami Ramanagiri’s transformative encounter with Bhagavan during the Mahasivaratri celebrations of 1949. After weeks of intense self-inquiry, the young seeker experienced a powerful opening in Bhagavan’s presence—an event that would come to define the direction of his life thereafter.

We looked at the formative years in Sweden. Though born into a family that rose to prosperity through hard work, Per Westin—as Swami Ramanagiri was known from birth—felt from a young age a sense of inner distance from societal expectations. His childhood revealed a contemplative temperament, a love of solitude and nature, and an early intuition that life held a deeper meaning than worldly success.

A mysterious incident at the age of six where he survived a fall unharmed—later associated with a symbolic vision—hints at an underlying spiritual destiny.

Per’s upbringing within a strict Protestant setting provided discipline and ethical grounding but did not fulfil his longing for direct spiritual experience. While he distanced himself from his strict Christian upbringing, its influence remained visible in his character. He retained a strong sense of discipline, moral seriousness, and devotion to religious life. But the path laid out by his family’s faith did not satisfy his concerns: direct experience, silence, and inner transformation.

Influenced by the teachings of Swami Vivekananda, Per turned decisively toward the East and finally set sail for India in November 1947. Carrying both intellectual preparation and a profound inner call, the ground was laid for a spiritual unfolding. His yearning intensified through personal loss, especially the suicide of his father, prompting the inner questioning that made him ripe for the encounter in South India. If Per often felt inwardly separated from his surroundings during childhood, something altogether new took over once reaching the subcontinent:

In the family where I first saw this world I never felt at home… The family I live with now feels like one I have known for many lifetimes.^[1]

This is a sentiment that spiritually inclined individuals know very well, how the early sense of estrangement from conventional expectations gives way to belonging once the spiritual path is taken up in earnest.

After encountering Bhagavan Ramana, Per spoke of feeling like a child again—free from the inner tensions that had till then troubled him.

Through intense self-examination, he described experiencing a radical inner breakthrough—an “atomic bomb”—that shattered the former identity, revealing a deeper sense of unity, and a respite from what had formerly been a rigid self-assessment:

“I am a sinner.”

The all-embracing Him turned His tender eyes upon the little […] boy

and said, in a sweet voice full of life:

“No. No, you are my dearest Self.”

The little boy experienced such happiness

that he could not help saying:

“Oh Father, now I am very happy […].” ^[2]

Himalayan Retreats

During this crucial initial period, Per relied on the connections he made in Almora, not least of all, with the Danish mystic Alfred Emmanuel Sørensen, known in India as Sunyata. Sunyata lived in austere simplicity with his dog, Wuji. Born in 1890 to a farming family, he worked as a gardener in England where he met Rabindranath Tagore, who invited him to Shantiniketan.

Arriving in India in 1930, Sunyata wandered as a sadhu, immersing himself in India’s spiritual traditions and soon met Bhagavan Ramana, who called him a “natural-born mystic.”

Settling in Almora, Sunyata lived a life of contemplation, often referring to his dog as his “guru in summer and hot water bottle in winter.”

During the hot months before the monsoon, Per stayed with Sunyata in Almora, nestled in the Kumaon Himalayas. Almora by the late 1940s had become a quiet yet powerful centre of spiritual and cultural convergence. Beyond its scenic beauty, what distinguished it was the presence of an extraordinary circle of seekers and artists, drawn by the atmosphere of contemplation.

By the time of Per’s arrival, Sunyata had become a spiritual presence in Almora, attracting seekers from around India and abroad. In this period, the scientist Boshi Sen and his wife Gertrude Emerson Sen created a vibrant intellectual hub, welcoming figures such as Jawaharlal Nehru, Indira Gandhi, and Rabindranath Tagore. Their home became a meeting place where science, spirituality, and culture intertwined. Nehru and Sunyata formed a close long-standing friendship.

Earlier, Swami Vivekananda had meditated at Kasar Devi, lending the region enduring spiritual significance. The area also drew artists such as Uday Shankar, whose cultural centre further enriched Almora’s creative life. Occasional visits by Krishnaprem and Madhav Ashish added to this unique blend of devotion and inquiry.^[3]

Per stayed at Sunyata’s cave in the summer of 1948. The cave was simple: a table, a chair, a bed, and a few books. A gramophone occasionally played Beethoven quartets. Daily life involved gardening, fetching water, and renovating guest caves for visiting seekers.

Per lived in a small cave higher up the hill, from which he could watch the mountains and listen to the wind in the pines. The vistas encouraged solitude and reflection. Visitors to his hermitage were rare, though shepherds sometimes passed along distant paths with flocks carrying salt and borax from Tibet.

Nearby lived several notable Westerners: the Buddhist scholar Anagarika Govinda, the American anthropologist and Tibetologist W. Y. Evans-Wentz, the painter, writer, and scholar Earl Brewster, and the French historian, writer and musicologist Alain Danielou.

Sunyata found Per to be a seeker eager to shed the conventions of his former life fuelled by a powerful ambition for spiritual attainment—what Sunyata called a “Swedish occultism.” Per’s intense desire to master himself through effort and discipline seemed to diverge from Sunyata’s own gentler path of simplicity and quiet awareness. Nevertheless, Sunyata recognized Per’s sincereity.

Sri Ramanasramam

It was Sunyata who directed Per southward to Tamil Nadu to sit at the feet of Bhagavan Sri Ramana. Questions about death, identity, and meaning had emerged in the young seeker, not least of all, in the aftermath of the tragic death of his father five years earlier.^[4] “What remains when the body dies?” “Who am I, truly?” Such questions would have been pervasive.

Learning that such inner investigation was central in the Maharshi’s teaching would have made the prospect of coming to see Bhagavan irresistible.

Per arrived in Tirvannamalai in the middle of January 1949, a time when the Ashram was gearing up for the Mahakumbhabhishekam of the Mother’s Shrine scheduled for mid-March. Chinnaswami was deeply concerned about the lack of funds.

A more serious concern was the Maharshi’s health. A large malignant tumour had appeared on Bhagavan’s left arm, and a series of surgeries had already begun. But in this early period, all were confident that the condition would resolve itself.

Per was oblivious to all that was going on behind the scenes and took up his place in the darshan hall, having committed himself in advance to throw himself wholeheartedly into Bhagavan’s atma vichara. While Per remained quiet during his time in the hall, as he sat there over the following forty days, he could overhear the conversations taking place before him, which revealed key aspects of Bhagavan’s teaching.

A striking opening vignette came during the first days of his arrival when Bhagavan contrasted the “big body” of an elephant with the “Big Self,” illustrating the Maharshi’s natural indifference to the body. Like the sage Jada Bharata, the Maharshi embodied a state in which bodily identity had fallen away, leaving only pure awareness. This highlighted the distinction between the transient body-mind and the ever-present Self.

Chronicles tell us that two days later in the hall, Bhagavan dismissed elaborate yogic distinctions, affirming that kundalini sakti is not something exclusive or progressive but the very nature of consciousness itself—the inner “I-I.” Differences in spiritual stages, Bhagavan affirmed, are merely conceptual while the underlying reality is One. Bhagavan stressed that all genuine spiritual paths lead to the same summit, and a realised sage can guide seekers regardless of their chosen approach.^[5]

The next day, Bhagavan redirected seekers from metaphysical curiosity—about subtle bodies, divine realms, or visions—to the essential enquiry, “Who am I?” Bhagavan insisted: “First find out who you are”.

True renunciation lies not in abandoning action but in relinquishing the sense of doership. A jnani may act outwardly, yet he remains inwardly unattached, only watching as things unfold. Such discussions would have stimulated Per’s deep dive into vichara practice.

As Per sat and investigated with full vigour, the Master casually revealed what could have only been experienced by Per as body-blows to former cherished assumptions.

The mind is the culprit. Though small, it obscures the vast Self like a finger covering the eye. Bhagavan with a smile placed his little finger over his eye and said:

Look. This little finger covers the eye and prevents the whole world from being seen. In the same way this small mind covers the whole universe and prevents Brahman from being seen. See how powerful it is! ^[6]

Such reflections would spur the young initiate further on in the effort to seek the elusive “I”.

Initial Breakthrough

In the course of these weeks, Per kept silent, never asking questions of his own. The conversations in the hall would have taken place in various languages, most of which would not have been familiar to Per who only arrived in India some fourteen months earlier.

One night, however, while he lay resting on a simple cot in a small room with a door made of woven reeds, something unexpected took place. Suddenly, the door opened and a small light entered the room. The light moved toward him and entered through his right big toe, spreading slowly through his body like a current of light. When the current reached his head, it emerged again, forming a radiant figure before him. In this dream-vision, he saw Bhagavan Ramana before him—luminous and alive with light. The figure asked him gently:

“What are your doubts?”

Per began asking questions that had arisen during meditation, questions about the practice of vichara, about his decision to live as an ascetic, and about earlier spiritual experiences. Although Bhagavan spoke to him in Tamil, Per heard him speaking in fluent Swedish.^[7]

During the encounter, Per’s uncertainties were resolved. He came to see that the Sage had been guiding him long before they met. The karmic burdens of the past seemed to dissolve through a budding knowledge of the Self.^[8]

Per later described the experience, “like someone who has found a long-lost treasure.”

In the early hours of the morning, the energy in his dream became so intense that he fell out of bed. He later wrote that he had taken up “the way Sri Ramana taught during the Sage’s silent days on Holy Arunachala.”^[9]

Back in the Darshan Hall

One month into Per’s retreat at Ramanasramam, Bhagavan described the world as projection, i.e. only appearing under certain conditions, yet having no independent reality apart from the perceiver. Ideas of heaven, hell, and subtle bodies exist only so long as the ego persists. When the ego dissolves, all multiplicity vanishes. Bhagavan continues:

Everything comes out of ourselves. If we know our own Self and remain still, there is nothing else to be known. Only when the mind is fickle does the world appear.

When another devotee in the hall appeared confused, Bhagavan explained further:

If we are non-existent, what could there be outside of us to see? The world is like a cinema show. Images only appear when the film is projected. When the light of the projector is withdrawn, they vanish. So too, all arises from the Self.^[10]

Bhagavan gave another analogy:

The body is like a rented house. The jiva enters and plays its part, while the breath acts as watchman. As long as the breath remains, others will say the owner is inside; when the breath ceases, the house is abandoned. The jiva moves from one house to another until it grows weary and at last, turns inward.^[11]

Through earnest inquiry, one realises that the Self alone is real and abides in That, Bhagavan says. When that happens, the sense of individuality is lost. But who remains as the seer? When the mind is extinguished and one rests in his or her own true state, no actions are in need of being performed.

These exchanges during his several weeks in the hall made the teaching clear: turn inward, know the Self, and abide as That. Solitude is not geographical—not a physical condition but pure awareness free of distraction.^[12] One cannot escape disturbance by changing location; peace arises only when the mind rests in the Self.

Second Insight

After forty days, Per experienced a decisive breakthrough. The event reportedly occurred when he stood face-to-face with Bhagavan on the 26th February, 1949—the sacred night of Mahasivaratri:

I don’t know anything,

and that ‘I’ which knows is nothing but an ignorant fool.

I think, when I do not think,

that I have neither beginning nor end.

When there is ‘I’, He is not; when He is, I am not.

After this experience face to face with Bhagavan, Per began referring to himself as “this fool.”

Per later expressed the same idea in prose:

The behaviour of a fool and a wise man is similar. The fool goes from life to lives; the wise man goes from lives to Life.

From this time, Bhagavan became the central figure in Per’s spiritual life. He spoke of every breath as guided by the Sage and regarded him as a permanent divine presence. —

(to be continued)