With Devaki Ma
By Erica Bassani
In the spring of 2024, while in tiruvannamalai, india, conducting interviews with teachers and leaders for the Women Awakening Project, I visited the Yogi Ramsuratkumar Ashram. In its enormous atrium, I was struck by the plasterboard depiction of moments from the yogi’s life, an enlightened being who called himself “the beggar.” Sitting on the steps near the altar, next to a woman who was writing densely in a school notebook a single phrase over and over again—“Yogi Ramsuratkumar Jai Guru Raya”—I became immersed in the chanting of that mantra. As she wrote, an indistinct chorus of men and women was chanting the words. In this atmosphere of joy, among those present appeared Devaki Ma—the closest disciple of Yogi Ramsuratkumar, who now cares for the ashram and serves as its spiritual guide. I was incredibly happy to meet this woman who had left everything to be with her guru and live a holy life. Despite her countless commitments, she managed to find time for my interview.
Devaki Ma, how did your spiritual journey begin?
I always had a fascination for saints and sages. Since childhood, I was drawn to God and the great Mahatmas. Whenever I’d hear of Mahatmas, I would immediately rush there, have my darshan and receive blessings from them. This was so much a habit that people used to make fun of me and called me a “saint monger.” I had taken initiation from a very great soul, Swami Vireshwarananda of Rama-krishna Math in Belur, a direct disciple of Sarada Mani Devi, the divine consort of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. Many miracles happened around that event. I’ll just say that three months after that day, Swami attained mahasamadhi. I was there just in time to receive that diksha. I have to thank Tanmayanandaji, a senior swami of Krishna Math, for encouraging me to go there for blessings.
What happened to you after he reached mahasamadhi and was not available anymore in the physical form?
It left a vacuum. I needed a physical guru to refer to, to interact with, and to have darshan. I was really missing that, and my mind was becoming very restless. At that time, somebody came and gave me a book of Ramana Maharshi. So, I started to read it. Soon I was absolutely fascinated by his personality and his teachings. So, that’s how the affair started. I read one book after the other, voraciously. And then the desire arose to come to Tiruvannamalai. I came, had a darshan of the samadhi of Ramana Bhagavan, and sat there. That’s how the whole thing started.
Sitting before the samadhi shrine of Ramana Maharshi can be a very powerful experience. How was it for you?
At the time, I was working as a physics lecturer at Sharada College, Salem, and we got three days of Christmas holidays. So, together with two colleagues of mine, we went to Tiruvannamalai for three days. I have to convey an important detail here: when we reached the Tiruvannamalai Ashram, it was around 7:30 in the evening, in December 1986. Standing at the doorstep, the whole ashram was in darkness, with hardly any lights burning. I thought maybe the current was cut off. I felt terrible! Yet it seemed very symbolic. Then something burst out inside me. I ran to the meditation hall, to Ramana Bhagavan’s photo, where a small mud oil lamp was casting a soft light on his face.
I just couldn’t contain myself and burst out crying, saying, “Ramana, you are the huge sun of knowledge. But even here, there is only darkness for me. Will there be no light at all in my life?” Then I began to sob and cry loudly, unable to contain my emotion. That’s when the miracle happened. Suddenly, the two eyes of Ramana in the photograph began to glow with life; there was such compassion and grace. Just for a fraction of a second, his gaze was right upon me, penetrating into the recess of my being. I was arrested. I just stood there, transfixed, looking at his eyes, when suddenly the main lights came on and he was once again a photograph. But my heart remained filled with the glowing light of Ramana, and ananda. Now I felt reassured that there would be light in life—and it would be no ordinary light. I was very happy. I had no idea what was going to happen. After reuniting with my friends the next morning, the three of us went around Arunachala, the nine-mile walk.
How then did you come across Yogi Ramsuratkumar?
I heard about Yogi Ramsuratkumar from a student of mine who had come to him. “There is a man who looks like a beggar but speaks like a professor. He speaks such good English, and he is so vibrant.” I heard her words but had no thought of meeting him or anything, because I was completely taken over by Ramana. But the next morning, the thought struck me that I could visit the Yogi as part of doing Arunachala pradakshina. When I arrived and stood before his place, the door was locked. A boy came running, saying, “Swami has gone to the temple. He just left.” Immediately we hurried to meet him, only to be told again that Swami had just left. So, we completed the walk around the mountain.
We had bought some tender coconut for offering, and finally we drank up the coconut water and went again for a walk around Arunachala. That evening we again went to see him, because something had happened inside of me, and I had to see him. Again we were told, “He just left for the temple.” We rushed to the temple, only to be told again that he had just left. This leela continued the next morning and evening—for five times total. It aroused not only my curiosity but a great longing to see him. The longing sharpened each time I was denied darshan. Finally, when the evening came, I said to my friends, “Let’s try again, he’s a living master, it’s a rare opportunity.” But they complained, “Every time, we only see a locked door. Swami does not want to see us. Why go again?” I said, “No, no, no. We have to try. We have one more chance.”
Did you convince them to come along?
Yes, I dragged them along with me. They didn’t want to buy more offerings because every time we ended up eating them! So, I bought some apples. This time, his ashram was open. There was a crowd outside. We joined very happily, now that I was assured of his darshan. As he opened the wooden doorway in the dim lighting and entered the veranda, there was a huge presence, a very vibrant presence, which hit me with a force. My whole body began to tremble, tears were streaming down, and I had no idea I was gaping. I was yet to see him clearly. Quickly he dismissed everybody, saying, “Ram, Ram, my Father blesses you,” and the whole crowd dispersed. Only the three of us were left behind.
I thought he was going to dismiss us also, but he invited us to come in. So we went into the veranda. I was carrying those apples, but I was trembling even more, now that I was coming closer to him, and I dropped everything. All the apples were rolling on all sides. What a clumsy meeting! He shouted, “Pick them up!” Nervously, I started to gather them.
He opened the wooden door and invited us into his place, which we never expected. It was another shock. It looked like a dumping ground. Books scattered here and there, newspapers, cigarette boxes, the coins and the notes he’d received as offerings, all heaped in one place.
Then, like an emperor with his emerald turban, he sat in a chair that was falling apart and asked me, “What do you want?” I wanted to get my PhD and work in some famous laboratories, but in that moment, to my own surprise, I answered, “I want to see God.” To which he replied, “What? You want to see God?! Oh, God!” He put his hand on his head and started laughing.
He could not stop himself. He turned to me and said, “How can this beggar help you? This beggar has not seen God. How can he help you?” It was all so vibrant, godly, but I was also crying because he was making fun of me. I felt I had committed a terrible blunder, because I had no qualification to put forth such a wish. He saw my condition. “This beggar has not seen God. But Devaki is a pure soul. She will see God.” And then he changed into something very serious. His face became radiant and, with a quiet pause, he raised his hand and looked deeply into me and kept on blessing. I felt every pore of my being—not just the body, the whole unit of being—filled with a very blissful peace. A very deep, deep, deep peace. All thoughts had dropped off completely, and there was only overwhelming peace and bliss. There was just beauty and wonder everywhere. This state of euphoria lasted for ten days. This is how I met my guru.
About The Author
The Author: Erica Bassani is a copywriter, author and spiritual seeker since her early twenties. She’s combined her highest passion with her deepest love by founding the Women Awakening Project (www.womenawakeningproject.com), a space to gather interviews with female masters of all spiritual traditions.