Content

1. Paramahansa Yogananda on Kriya yoga

2. Yogi S.A.Ramaiah Biography

3. Swami Kriyananda on Kriya Yoga

4. About Kriya founder Babaji

Paramhansa Yogananda on Kriya Yoga

From The Essence of Self-Realization

My guru, Sri Yukteswar, liked a chant that I have translated, two lines from which go, "Pranayama be thy

religion. Pranayama will give thee salvation."

Pranayama means control of the energy in the body, and its direction upward through the spine to the

brain and to the Christ center between the eyebrows. This alone is the pathway of awakening. It isn't a

matter of dogma or belief. It is simply the way we were all made by God.

The consciousness enters the body by way of the brain and the spine. When the sperm and ovum unite

to create the physical body, they do so at what becomes the medulla oblongata, at the base of the

brain. From this medulla, the life force moves out into the brain, down the spine and into the nervous

system, then on to the muscles, etc., creating the body.

The way out of the body, then, is to reverse this process. The difficulty in doing so lies in the fact that

the life force is already conditioned by birth to continue its outward direction—through the senses and

onward to the environment as it is perceived through the senses. Thus, we think to possess the world

and to enjoy it through the body.

We can never experience anything outside ourselves, however, except vicariously, as the senses report

their impressions to the brain. We may try to expand our understanding of the world by study, or our

enjoyment of it through sense pleasures. The fact remains, we can never know anything except through

the medium of the senses, so long as the life force remains trapped in the body.

There is a way out, however. It is for the life-force to merge with the cosmic energy; for the

consciousness to merge in the infinite consciousness.

The way to accomplish this end is to withdraw the life force from the senses, and center it in the spine;

to direct it upward through the spine to the brain, and thence out through the Christ center between

the eyebrows.

The ego is centered in the medulla oblongata. This is the negative pole of self-consciousness. The

positive pole is situated at the Christ center. Concentration at this center—in the spiritual eye, the seat

of spiritual vision—projects the consciousness beyond the ego into Infinity.

The spine is the highway to the Infinite. Your own body is the temple of God. It is within your own self

that God must be realized. Whatever places of pilgrimage you visit outwardly, and whatever outward

rituals you perform, the ultimate "'pilgrimage" must be within. And the ultimate religious rite must be

the offering of your life-force on the altar of inner God-communion.

That was why Jesus said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." "'He spoke," the

Bible adds, "'of the temple of his body." (John 2:19, 21) This is the path of Kriya Yoga.

Yogi S.A.A. Ramaiah

Apostle of Tamil Kriya Yoga Siddhantham

by M. Govindan Satchidananda

On May 9, 1923, in the ancestral mansion of S.A. Annamalai Chettiar, a young woman, Thaivani Achi,

gave birth to her second son, Ramaiah, which means "Ram worshipping Shiva." S.A. Annamalai Chettiar,

two years before, had flown the first private airplane from England to India. He had his own private

airport near his home. His family was the wealthiest in all of south India, having amassed a forune as

merchant bankers and traders throughout southeast Asia over the previous several hundred years. Their

home, "Ananda Vilas." ("the place of bliss") was the second largest in the village of mansions,

Kanadukathan, in an area known as "Chettinad" 60 kilometers north of Madurai, the ancient capital of

Tamil Nadu. Chettinad was inhabited primarily by the Nattukottai Chettiar clan of several hundred

families. The Chettiars were south east Asia's first bankers, and their commercial empire encompassed

south India, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Viet Nam, Burma and Indonesia. They had also financed the

construction of most of the large temples in south India, with their colossal gopuram towers, over the

past several hundred years. The present finance minister of the Government of India, P. Chidambaram is

Yogi Ramaiah's cousin, and he has built his career on a solid reputation for honesty and acumen with

regards to financial affairs. S. Annamalai, the young father's own father, was a great philanthropist and

businessman; his brother, Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiar, had made his fortune importing teak from India

to south India, and his palatial home, measuring hundreds of meters in size, and situated next to Ananda

Vilas included a thirteen car garage. He had since become a leading industrialist. But his brother, the

young father of Ramaiah was more interested in airplanes, fast cars, race horses, gambling and spending

his father's money. Ramaiah's mother was a devout young woman, also a Chettiar, with a strong interest

in spirituality and mysticism. She was a disciple of "Chela Swami," an enigmatic "childlike saint," and

sadhu, or holyman, who would wander into their home every now and then. Completely naked, village

boys would sometimes treat him like a madman, throwing stones at him. But no one could ever

determine why he was always smiling; the village boys would give to him some bananas, or massage his

feet in reverence, and he would smile; then some of them might make fun of him or try to tease him,

and he would only smile in response. No one knew where he lived or where he would go when he

disappeared for weeks or months; he would come and go like the wind. But Thaivani Achi was devoted

to him.

Young Ramaiah was educated by tutors and enjoyed the life of a member of the most elite circle in

colonial India. He played golf, wore English clothes, and traveled frequently by motor car 300 kilometers

north to Madras, where his father owned most of the seaside property for nearly a mile south of San

Thome Cathedral. Ramaiah was interested in science and Tamil literature. While his father gambled

away the family's fortune, Ramaiah prepared himself for a university education. His father wanted him

to go into business, like all good Chettiars, but Ramaiah was adamant. When he was admitted to the

University of Madras, Presidency College, the most prestigious institution in south India in 1940, he

appealed to his father for permission to major in the subject of geology, with a minor in Tamil studies.

After some heated discussion, and after the intercession of Ramaiah's mother, S.A. Annamalai relented

and gave his consent.

Ramaiah excelled in his studies and in 1944 he graduated at the very top of his class. He applied for post

graduate studies in geology at John Hopkins University in Baltimore, USA, and was accepted. His father

opposed this proposal, insisting that Ramaiah begin a career in the family's business empire. Finally,

Ramaiah succeeded in convincing his father that he should be allowed to go to America, but before

doing so, but on condition that he get married first. Betrothed since several years to Solachi, a young

woman whose wealthy family lived in the mansion across the street from Ananda Vilas, the marriage

was celebrated and Ramaiah and his young bride began to make preparations for a long sea journey to

America. However, fate intervened and Ramaiah contracted bone tuberculosis. The best English

physicians were brought in to treat him, but as bone tuberculosis was and still is an incurable disease,

the most they could accomplish was to arrest its further spread beyond his legs. They did so by

imprisoning him in a plaster body cast, extending from his feet to his neck.By immobilizing his body in

this way, the further development of the disease was expected to be arrested. He remained in this

situation, hanging from the bed posts and suspended in air, for six years. His family left him alone with

his young bride and a few servants, at their seaside cottage, at number 2, Arulananda Mudali Street,

(now Arulandam Street), San Thome, Mylapore, Madras.

While most persons would probably have succumbed in despair to such an unimaginable condition,

Ramaiah had a source of strength which enabled him to survive this difficult period. His mother had

given to him an innate love for spirituality, and so rather than seeing his situation as a curse, he realized

that he could use it to explore the inner realms of his soul. Being an avid reader, Ramaiah studied the

classics of Indian spiritual literature. He was particularly impressed with the poems of Ramalinga

Swamigal and the writings of Sri Aurobindo. His family had served Ramana Maharshi for three

generations, and he could appreciate his method of Vichara Atman. Unable to move or engage in any

normal activity, he also began to practice meditation seriously, and whenever possible, he would send

his chauffeur with an invitation to famous sadhus or gurus who were visiting the area. Intrigued by the

sincerity of this young man, encased as he was in a plaster body cast, they would come and train him in

the art of meditation and breathing. Unable to explore the external world, he turned his attention to the

inner world. Without other distractions, he made rapid progress. One of the sadhus, who had the most

influence upon him was a middle aged man named "Prasanananda Guru." He was a famous "tapaswi" an

ascetic who could remain motionless for many weeks, locked in meditation or trance. He was sometimes

summoned by the chieftains of drought stricken areas because of his ability to make it rain. In 1948, he

ended a three year drought in Chettinad, after sitting for 48 days at the Brahmanoor Kali temple, one

kilometer outside of the village, performing yogic tapas, or intensive meditation. At the end of one

"mandala" of 48 days, the rain came in torrents. Since that time drought has never returned to this area.

Another of Ramaiah's early gurus was Omkara Swami, a former postal worker, who had become a

famous "tapaswi," who would sit without moving for 48 or 96 days without a break, locked in samadhi

trance. They shared with Ramaiah their intimate knowledge of yogic sadhana. In 1952, Ramaiah wrote

and published a biography of Omkara Swami, entitled "A Blissful Saint." They maintained a friendship

until the latter's passing in the 1960's.

On March 10, 1952, the day that Yogananda attained mahasamadhi in the USA, Mauna Swami, a colorful

sadhu and disciple of Shirdi Sai Baba came to the San Thome home of Ramaiah, and after demonstrating

his clairvoyant powers, predicted with great assurance that Ramaiah would soon be healed. But before

this could occur, Ramaiah succumbed to despair, and one night decided to end his life by holding his

breath. Then, as he was doing so, he suddenly heard a voice say: "Do not take your life! Give it to me!"

Startled, he took a deep breath, wondering who could this be. Then he realized that it must be the

mysterious figure whom he had begun to see in meditation after the visit of Mouna Swami. The first

time this occurred, he had a vision of Shirdi Sai Baba, wearing his characteristic orange head cloth. He

eagerly asked Shirdi Sai Baba: "Are you my guru?" The reply came: "No, but I will reveal to you who is

your guru." Just then, he saw for the first time his guru "Babaji."

The next morning, Ramaiah awoke with the realization that he had been healed. The English doctor was

summoned and the body cast was removed. To the astonishment of everyone, the doctor's examination

revealed that the dreaded disease had disappeared. During the following days Ramaiah regained the use

of his legs. He also began chanting softly the name "Babaji" and then "Om Babaji" and "Om Kriya Babaji"

and finally the five syllableed "panchakra" mantra "Om Kriya Babaji Nama Aum," with utter gratitude

and delight.

One day shortly thereafter, he came across a newspaper advertisement for a new book about the

renowned saint "Satuguru Rama Devi," entitled "9 Boag Road," which was the address of her residence

in Madras. The author was V.T. Neelakantan, a noted journalist. Ramaiah penned a postcard to the

latter, requesting a copy of the book and addressing him with "Dear Atman." Upon receipt, the

journalist thought that the sender of the postcard must be a "money bag," that is, some idle wealthy

person, but out of curiosity, he decided to pay him a visit in San Thome.

Thus began a friendship and collaboration which lasted nearly fifteen years. V.T. Neelakantan had been

receiving frequest late night visitations by the same mysterious figure, Babaji, in his puja room in

Egmore, Madras. Babaji soon revealed to Neelakantan that he was to work closely with Ramaiah to

establish a yoga society in his name, "Kriya Babaji Sangah," and to write and publish his teachings in a

series of books. Over the next two years, during late night visitations to V.T. Neelakantan's home, Babaji

dictated several books to V.T. N., "my child," as Babaji called him: "The Voice of Babaji and Myticism

Unlocked," "Masterkey to Alls Ills," and "Death of Death." V.T.N., then 52 years old, had been the foreign

correspondent for several years before and during the second world war, both in Japan and London, for

one of India's leading newspapers's, the Indian Express. Because of this, he had also become a

confidante to Pandit Nehru, President of the Congress Party, and subsequently India's first Prime

Minister when India became independent from Great Britain in 1947. Before the war, for more than

fifteen years he had also worked side by side with Annie Besant, the longtime President of the

Theosophical Society, and the successor to Madame Blavatsky, who trained him in the occult. He was

also married and the father of four sons and a daughter. At the end of the 1940's he left his family for

two years, and went to the Himalayas as a renunciant, where he studied with Swami Sivananda and

other saints.

On October 10, 1952, "Kriya Babaji Sangah" was officially founded, and regular lectures, meditation

classes and other public activities were organized at the San Thome home of Ramaiah. Ramaiah was the

President, and V.T. N. was the "Acharya." Press equipment was acquired and a Kriya Yoga Magazine was

published several times a year. More books were also written, despite V.T.N. 's fragile health. Ramaiah

wrote the introductions, and V.T.N. wrote down the dictations from Babaji. Babaji began directing the

sadhana of V.T.N., Ramaiah and Solachi, with specific instructions regarding meditation and mantras in

particular.

Babaji also began appearing to Ramaiah and in 1954 Babaji summoned him to Badrinath in the

Himalayas. He was asked by Babaji to go outside the temple village, situated at a height of 3,500 meters

or 10,500 feet, taking nothing, and wearing only a loincloth. Ramaiah, then 31 years old, wandered

north up the valley through which the Alakanantha River, a principle source of the Ganges, flowed from

its glacier One day, he came across two sadhus, sitting on a flat rock. One smiled at him, the other

frowned and began hurling verbal insults at him. "How could a dark skinned south India dare to wander

here, dressed only in a loin cloth," he mocked. Ramaiah went up a little higher beyond the catcalls of the

sadhu, and sat down on a rock and began to meditate. Several hours passed. Suddenly, he heard

someone approaching and urging him to come down to the village for food. Ramaiah indicated to him

that he would not, and that he should be left alone. Several more hours past; it was dark, when

suddenly, the same sahu, who had smiled at him, returned, and began forcing food into his mouth. "Jai

Babaji" he thought. "Even here, in this cold, desolate and treeless place, Babaji takes care to feed me."

After three days of wandering, Babaji revealed himself physically to Ramaiah and began to train him in

the sacred science of Kriya Yoga. Over the next several months, in his cave beside the glacial lake known

as Santopanth Tal, thirty kilometers north of Badrinath, Ramaiah learned a complete system of 144

Kriyas, or techniques, involving breathing, yoga postures, meditation and mantras. He also enjoyed the

fellowship of Babaji's principle disciples, Annai Nagalakshmi Deviyar, also known as Mataji, and Dadaji,

who was known as Swami Pranavanandar, in his previous incarnation, as well as other close disciples of

the great Satguru. Among other things, Babaji also taught him how to withstand the cold temperature

with a breathing exercise.

After several months in the Himalayas, upon his return to Madras in 1955, Ramaiah committed himself

to a very rigorous "tapas" or intensive period of practice, during which time he worshipped the Divine

Mother in the form of Kali, in her most fearsome form. In order to purify oneself of desires and to

overcome such limitations as fear and anger, the worship of Kali is considered to be especially effective.

She personifies "detachment" from the ego's attachments, symbolized by the heads she lops off. While

Patanjali, in his Yoga Sutras, dryly recommends vairagya or detachment as the principle method of

classical Raja Yoga, such a practice assumes a personal form when one engages oneself seriously in

ascetic tapas. Sitting still in a room for many days on end, human nature rebels, and only complete

surrender to the Divine, in the form of Mother Nature, Kali, it seemed, would enable him to overcome

his ego's resistance. Tap means "to heat" and tapas means "straightening by fire," or "voluntary self-

challenge." It is the original term for "Yoga." It begins with an expression of a vow, for example, not to

leave a place, or not to eat, or not to speak, etc. for a set period, for example, one "mandala" of 48 days.

Jesus Christ's 40 days in the wilderness was a form of tapas. Having completed his tapas, Ramaiah was

born anew; he had experienced deep states of stillness, known as samadhi, and would hereafter be

known as "Yogi Ramaiah." He was also given several important assignments by Babaji: to begin the study

of physiotherapy and yoga therapy in order to help those who like himself, were handicapped; to begin

teaching Kriya Yoga both in India and abroad; and to begin to research and gather the writings of the

Babaji's gurus, Boganathar and Agastyar.

Yogi Ramaiah, along with Solachi moved to Bombay where he enrolled in the program to become a

physiotherapist at G.S. Medical College and Hospital, the largest in that city. He also studied and applied

yogasanas successfully to the treatment of his patients. About 1961, towards the end of his studies

there, he asked his professors for permission to conduct clinical experiments. He told them that he

believed that he could cure over 20 different types of functional disorders through the use of yoga

alone, including diabetes, hypertension, appendicitis and infertility, all within three months time.

Permission was granted and the patients were selected by the attending physicians. For three months

he worked with these patients every day, guiding and encouraging them in their practice of yoga, and

allied regimens of diet and sun treatment. After three months, to the amazement of the physicians, all

of the patients had become well. In recognition, he was awared an honorary diploma. Preferring not to

wait any longer to complete the academic requirements, he returned to Madras, where he founded a

free clinic for the poor in San Thome, specializing in the handicapped, as well as a department of

orthopedic rehabilitation in Adyar, Madras. He operated the free clinic for nearly ten years. The

orthopedic rehabilitation department continues its operations to this day on Mount Road, just north of

the Adyar bridge. In 1985, the author visited with Yogi Ramaiah the G.S. Medical College, and

demonstrated the 18 yoganasanas while Yogi Ramaiah lectured to over 500 professional staff members

in the auditorium. His successful use of Yoga was still remembered by the senior staff.

From 1956 Yogi Ramaiah and Solachi began traveling to Sri Lanka, Malyasia and Viet Nam, where he

would conduct lectures, yogasana classes, and initiations into Kriya Yoga, as well as free medical camps

for the handicapped. One devotee, an engineer, living at no. 51 Arasady Road, in Jaffna, Sri Lanka,

recounted to the author, in 1980, how he had seen Yogi Ramaiah many times in his dreams prior to their

first meeting. In 1958, Sri Lanka was rocked by its first communal riots between the Tamils and

Sinhalese.

These occurred while Yogi Ramaiah was conducting his third annual "Parliament of World Religions and

Yoga." An ecumenical conference attended by local leaders of various religious groups. One participant

was Swami Satchidananda, representing the Divine Life Society, founded by Swami Sivananda. A Tamil

from Coimbatore, he was deeply impressed by Yogi Ramaiah and his efforts for ecumenism. Thus began

a lifelong friendship. When, in 1967, Swami Satchidananda left for America, he stopped at Yogi

Ramaiah's seaside ashram in San Thome to receive his blessings. Yogi Ramaiah took him to the airport

and gave him a royal sendoff. After Yogi Ramaiah himself moved to New York City, in 1968, they often

attended one another's functions. For example, the graduation ceremony for students of the Tamil

language course conducted at Yogi Ramaiah's ashram at 112 East 7th Street, N.Y.C. and the Parliament

of World Religions and Yoga at Rutgers University in 1969. In Sri Lanka, in 1958, the Prime Minister came

to the last day of the Parliament to personally thank Yogi Ramaiah and the other speakers for helping to

quell the riots with the speeches promoting inter religious understanding.

In Malaysia in the early 1960's, Yogi Ramaiah and Solachi found many persons interested in Kriya Yoga.

Solachi had received as part of her marriage dowry, a large rubber plantation from her family. Yogi

Ramaiah's great grandfather had his life miraculously saved at the end of the 19th century by a

mysterious yogi, subsequently identified as Babaji. Yogi Ramaiah's father-in-law, Dr. Alagappa Chettiar,

had founded a college in Pallatur, 8 kilometers from Kanadukathan, where Yogi Ramaiah used to teach

Yoga. He loved Yogi Ramaiah very much. But after his death, the families of the young couple began

condemning their itinerant lifestyle and interest in Yoga, and the absence of any children. It was

unheard of for young persons to become so seriously engaged in Yoga, unless they renounced

everything as sannyasins. Fearing this, quarrels heated up and Solachi fell seriously ill. During her

convalescence, she moved back into her mother's home in Kanadukathan. Relations with her son-in-law

deteriorated, and during the final days of her life, in 1962, the greedy mother tricked her daughter

Solachi into signing over all of her properties to herself, stole her jewelry, and refused Yogi Ramaiah

access to his wife. After her death, Yogi Ramaiah's mother-in-law compounded the tragedy by bribing a

judge in Malaysia to give her title to all of her daughter's property there.

About this time, Yogi Ramaiah decided to break with his own family. His mother had passed away, and

his father was a materialist and actively opposed to Yogi Ramaiah's activities involving Yoga. Disparaging

remarks were made, and finally Yogi Ramaiah decided that he must break away from his family once and

for all. Rather than wait for his share of the joint family property, normally distributed after the demise

of one's parents, he negotiated a settlement which gave him enough money to purchase a large house

in Kanadukathan, at 13 AR Street. For several years, it had been used as a hotel for local college

students. During the 1970's Yogi Ramaiah renovated it, and built within its walls several sacred edifices:

a shrine to Babaji, a shrine to the lady Siddha Avvai, containing over a thousand palm leaf manuscripts

written by the Yoga Siddhas, which he had collected over many years from private collectors and

museums while wandering all over Tamil Nadu; and shrines to Mataji and Dadaji. A beautiful gopuram

tower with images of the 18 Yoga Siddhas was constructed over the front gate. Despite his practice of

Yoga, however, Yogi Ramaiah remained scarred by his family, and as we shall see subsequently, he later

concentrated considerable efforts into rehabilitating his reputation with his family.

Yogi Ramaiah wrote and published a book on the 18 Yoga postures, profusely illustrated with

photographs, as well as a book entitled "Songs of the 18 Siddhas," in 1968, with selections from the

palm leaf manuscripts he had collected. Babaji, he related, had given him the assignment to see that

their works were published one day. His close friend, the Tamil poet and renowned yogi disciple of Sri

Aurobindo, Yogi Shuddhananda Bharatiyar, wrote a beautiful introduction to this work. In subsequent

years, Yogi Ramaiah had the writings of Boganthar transcribed from the palm leaf manuscripts, and then

published in Tamil, in a modern book form, in several volumes, beginning in 1979. He had over the years

also continued to publish a Kriya Yoga magazine, with the assistance of V.T. Neelakantan, However, their

long collaboration came to an end around 1967 when they had a personal falling out. The reasons for

the falling out are unknown to this author, as Yogi Ramaiah avoided making any comments about V.T.N.,

even when questioned by the author in 1972. (In 2003, however, the author obtained information from

V.T.N.'s sons about his later years. V.T.N. continued to be devoted to Babaji and to practice regularly

mantra sadhana in particular until his passing in 1983, in Madras; V.T.N.'s wife expired in 1992. He lived

a quiet, private life until the end; there was no reconciliation with Yogi Ramaiah).

In 1967 Yogi Ramaiah went to Malaysia and then to Australia where he conducted initations in Kriya

Yoga. One student, Filinea Andlinger owned a piece of property several hours drive from Sydney, and on

it there was a large cave. Babaji did intensive tapas in this cave, according to an account which Babaji

related to Yogi Ramaiah.

In early 1968 Yogi Ramaiah moved to the United States. When he arrived in New York City he had

expected to be able to work as a physiotherapist, but his academic credentials were not recognized. So,

he decided to acquire American professional qualifications as soon as possible, by enrolling in courses in

prosthetics and orthotics. Until then, however, he lived in primitive conditions in an abandoned building

on East 5th Street, in lower Manhattan, and worked part time in a bookstore. He began giving talks and

classes related to yoga, which attracted local young people. It was the "summer of love" in New York

City, and the Haight Ashbury of San Francisco. Young people were looking for new ways to "get high"

and psychedelics and Yoga were entering the consciousness of the new generation. He encouraged his

new bearded young students to give up drugs, to practice Yoga and to get a job. A small community of

followers formed around him, and several apartments were rented to house them and the activities of

his newly formed "American Babaji Yoga Sangam." Its first President, Dolph Schiffren managed to obtain

a permanent residency "green card" for Yogi Ramaiah, as the Founder-Minister of this new non-profit

organization. They also acquired their first property in America, a 30 acre partially wooded lot, in

Richville, N.Y., at an auction, sight unseen, for $3,000. While it was a seven hour drive from N.Y.C. it

would serve them during summer retreats. The early followers included Dolph Schiffren, his wife

Barbara, Mary Chiarmante and her partner Richard, as well as Lloyd and Teri Ruza. Subsequently, Leslie

Stella, Andrea Auden, Ronald and Anne Stevenson, Donna Alu, Michael Bruce, Michael Weiss, Cher

Manne, and the author, as well as David Mann, brother of the famous Hollywood producer, Michael

Mann, and Mark Denner.

Before moving to California in the summer of 1970, Yogi Ramaiah took Dolph and Barbara with him to

Madras, where they were to conduct classes and develop the center. In September 1970, Yogi Ramaiah

moved to Downey, California, where he lived with the author and four other students in a small

apartment on Longworth Boulevard. He subsequently moved into a small house with the same students

on Chester Street in Norwalk, and enrolled in the Prosthetics and Orthotics ("P & O" ) studies at nearby

Cerritos College, and began bringing home artificial legs and braces to work on. He also began

conducting lectures and yoga classes. Charles Berner invited him, as well as several other well known

yogis, including Yogi Bhajan, Swami Satchidananda, and Swami Vishnudevanda to a meeting to discuss

the organization of the first "kumba mehla" in North America. He envisaged six jumbo jets bringing a

couple of thousand Indian sadhus to a farmer's field in Oregon. The author attended several meetings

intended to organize the logistics, but the proposal succumbed under the weight of its grandiosity.

However, Yogi Bhajan invited Yogi Ramaiah to his home, just off Sunset Boulevard, in Hollywood, for a

private meeting. The author accompanied him. It was s memorable occasion. Yogi Bhajan, the Sikh

master, over six feet tall, and weighing over 250 pounds at least, with his regal attire, white turban,

sitting next to the dimunitive Yogi Ramaiah, who was dressed like his idol, Mahatma Gandhi, with a

khadi homespun dhoti draped from his waist, and a towel draped over his shoulders. Their only

resemblance was their big beards and glowing eyes. For nearly half an hour no words were exchanged.

They sat in silence, while the author wondered what was going on. Afterwards, a few pleasantries were

exchanged and we departed. A couple of weeks later, during a public meeting of Sikh devotees, Yogi

Bhajan told the crowd that he had met a great saint, Yogi Ramaiah. The author then realized that their

communication had been at the deepest possible level. When I once asked who to consult with regards

to Kundalini, if he was available, he recommended Yogi Bhajan. Thus began a long term friendship. In

December of 1970, Yogi Bhajan was one of the principal speakers at the "Parliament of World Religions

and Yoga" held at UCLA. The author enjoyed inviting most of the speakers who attended. When we

moved into our new ashram, Yogi Bhajan attended the dedication ceremony. Commenting on how many

gray hairs were already in Yogi Ramaiah's beard, I recall him lamenting about how he had just returned

from taking his first group of American Sikh disciples to Amritsar, in the Punjab, and how they had given

him so many gray hairs. As disciples "You are millstones around our necks" he told us, and exhorted us

to remain faithful to our path.

Over several months in early 1971, Yogi Ramaiah initiated into the 144 Kriyas, twelve of his students,

those who were living in the centers he had established in California, New York, Washington, D.C.,

Baltimore and New Jersey. Before being accepted for this training they had to practice the Kriya Yoga

techniques they had already received during the first and second initiations, for at least 56 hours per

week, and for 52 weeks. They also had to submit records of their employment, weekly day of fasting and

silence, and other disciplines. Yogi Ramaiah knew how to inspire and motivate us to excel in our yogic

sadhanas. The author and most of his dedicated students loved the practices. "Simple living and high

thinking" was one of his motto's and we felt sanctified by all that he did for us. He also organized a

pilgrimage to Mount Shasta, in northern California, and several retreats and many lectures, where he

spoke with great inspiration on "Tamil Yoga Siddhantham, the teachings of the 18 Yoga Siddhas.

Throughout his life, Yogiyar felt that he had been often betrayed, both by family members and his

students. He had an unbending nature, and authoritative and controlling ways. He knew best, and he did

not appreciate anyone questioning his wisdom or ways of doing things. He seemed to pride himself on

being able to "crush the ego" of his various students, as if this was the most effective means to

liberation. We appreciated his ability to reveal our "shadow side." Unlike some gurus, who treat their

students in only the most respectful and loving manner, Yogiyar, as we called him affectionately,

avoided the confusion which that approach entailed. He did not love us as we were as persons,with all

of our hang-ups, but he did love who we truly are. By chipping away at the outer personal attachments

and idiosyncracies, he helped us to realize our deeper, true Self. As students, we accepted this

approach, which involved many painful rebukes, long sessions of karma yoga involving manual labor or

routine activities for hours on end. He seldom acknowledged our talents, at least not personally, and

refused to delegate more than the most menial of tasks. Organizationally, he appeared to nearly always

do the opposite of what would be most effective, eschewing recognition and becoming more than a

small collection of students devoted to the practice of Kriya Yoga and to the work, which included

working on ourselves. For example, during his retreats, rather than collecting one fixed amount at the

beginning of the retreat, he would send various students around during the first or second night, while

the students were sleeping, with requests to contribute $5 to "the dog fund," or $20 for "the building

fund," or $15 for "the car fund." So, each time one had to reach for one's wallet, one got another lesson

in "detachment." However, if you did not realize that the game he played was "catch the ego" you could

easily get hurt and quickly leave. Those who stayed did so by developing a good sense of humor.

Yogiyar also placed a premium on education, and encouraged all of his students to go back to school,

and seek more qualifications. Many of his students were drop outs, but he motivated them to make a

contribution to society, particularly in the field of health. Several of them became qualified orthotists or

prosthetists: Edmund Ayyappa has for many years been the Director of Research, in Orthotics, at the

Veterans Administration in Long Beach, California, and has developed many innovative electronically

controlled artificial limbs. Ronald Stevenson and John Adamski founded their own P& O Clinics in

Virginia and Chicago, respectively. Others became nurses. As the author had already some qualifications

from the School of Foreign Service, Yogi Ramaiah asked him to go to Washington, D.C. in 1973, after one

year in India, and to take the civil service exams; he subsequently advised him to accept a position as a

civilian economist in the Pentagon, in 1972, where he worked for four years. Yogiyar himself obtained

his diplomas in Orthotics and Prosthetics, and worked for several years as a P & O laboratory technician,

making and fitting artificial limbs and braces. In this capacity, he also began visiting migrant worker

camps in the Imperial Valley in 1973, with a portable P & O workshop in a small house trailer.

Consequently, finding that the hot desert climate resembled that of his ancestral home in India, he

purchased a 10 acre plot in the Imperial Valley, with an old farm house, and began spending much of his

time there. He obtained a position as an instructor at the local Imperial Valley College, at a time when

Yoga was relatively unknown. He would conduct his classes in his India dhoti, and a white lab coat, and

would teach the college students how to improve their health and well being through Yoga postures and

breathing. After about eight years there however, opposition to him from fundamentalist Christians at

the college, combined with his frequent travel obligations ended his tenure there, but he obtained a

position at Arizona State College, one and a half hours away in Yuma, Arizona. The author signed

mortgage papers to purchase a small farmhouse on five acres of land, on the southern outskirts of town.

During this time, we began to make fun of Yogiyar's business card, which mentioned more and more

qualifications and academic positions, as his educational experience developed. He later earned a

doctorate degree from Pacific Western University, by correspondence, and had himself photographed in

a studio in "cap and gown." While he often seemed unable to engage in social chatter with

acquaintances, and did not seem to care that his appearance was totally foreign to strangers, his

business card seemed to play an important means for him to tell those he met for the first time that he

was someone who was not so strange after all.

During his three decades in the USA, where he became a citizen in 1975, he gave thousands of lectures

and demonstrations related to Yoga Therapy, in hospitals and before medical conferences. Some

considered him to be a "gadfly" or "social conscience" at such conferences because of his efforts to raise

their standards. At the P & O conferences, in particular, he made a concerted effort to raise the

mentality and professionalism among its members. Even in the 1970's the average P & O workshop

displayed "girly" calendars on the walls, and the conferences were mostly about alcohol. So Yogiyar

inspired several of his women students, including Suzanne Fournier to become professional prosthetists

and orthotists. To the medical professionals at all levels he emphasized that the most important

element in treating patients was "to love the person," not the drugs or the technology. He himself

treated the worse cases, persons without any arms or legs, or severely deformed, with so much of love,

as if they were the Master himself, with great care and confidence that he could do something for them.

He loved animals, and maintained a menagerie of dogs, cats, goats, and cows at the Yuma and Imperial

Valley Centers. Even at the Richville, New York center, he insisted that we maintain a huge white

Charolais bull for many years. While it was burden for us to care for, it was we felt, important to treat

them with reverence, especially when our neighbors saw them only as a source of food. "Sacred cows"

as in India, were more than a memory for us. They were one element of his aspiration to bring Indian

culture to the West. Our dress, our eating habits, the ways in which we slept on the floor, went to the

toilet, bathed, and even avoided most furniture, and especially television, was all part of a social

experiment, if not a social mini-invasion of a materialistic culture. He was not about to become like his

neighbors, and if you were his student, and wanted to live in one of the centers he established, you had

to conform to his cultural ways. There was also a very practical reason for this requirement: when we

were sent to live and practice and work in India, we were well adapted, and could live there for years

without difficulty. This was of course at a time when India had little in the way of modern Western

conveniences, and consequently, it was ordinarily very difficult for Westerners to live there. He focused

his attention on training a few persons who could blend with his energies, do the sadhana and help him

fulfill the assignments which he received from Babaji. He also indicated that he was planting "seeds"

which might take hundreds of years to produce fruit. These "seeds" would sprout in the collective

consciousness and culture of western society for decades to follow. When asked by the author once

how America would be in the middle of the 21st century he cooly replied that it would "level up with

India spiritually." His actions were often not motivated by near term gains, but long term effects on the

planet as a whole. While his motivations appeared at times enigmatic, they were usually grounded in

the ancient principles of Yogic culture.

Unlike most teachers, Yogiyar financed his activities in a non-commercial manner. For nearly three

decades, the initiation seminars for example, which last several days, involved a donation of only $16.

All of the regular and extraordinary expenses, however, were paid for by the one or two dozen students

living in the half dozen centers he had established in North America. He made it very difficult for anyone

to become a resident, but once they had proven their capacity to live a disciplined and dedicated life, he

demanded much from them. They were required to pay from their modest salaries, working often two

jobs to make ends meet, the amounts required to support his extensive travel, automobile, telephone

and utility bills, and extraordinary projects book printing. Rather than asking the public or new students

to pay for his trainings, the residents of his centers basically subsidized his mission, and the public. It was

karma yoga, selfless service, and taught the residents the blessing of giving from the heart, and

detachment from material possessions. He also refused to do what he called establish a "trading post"

offering books, pictures and paraphanelia to students. The entire emphasis of his residential centers was

to provide an environment wherein its residents could practice Kriya Yoga eight hours per day, after

working in gainful employment eight hours a day, and take care of their physical needs and do karma

yoga the remaining eight hours per day. This schedule enabled the residents to become extremely

dynamic and to concentrate on Yogic practice without distraction. Only once per week, was the public

allowed to visit the centers for the purpose of attending free public yoga asana classes. This was the

antithesis of the Yoga studio phenomena which gradually became the norm elsewhere. He wanted his

students to integrate the practice of Yoga in their daily life, and not to commercialize it or to make it a

means of earning one's living.

One of Yogi Ramaiah's avowed means of "helping" his students was what he referred to "ego-crushing."

He was a master of orchestrating situations in such a way that students would come face to face with

their ego's reactions: anger, resentment, jealousy, doubt, insecurity, pride and just about every other

conceivable human limitation. For example, he would oblige two residents to live together in one of his

centers. One of them had the I.Q. of 85 and the other an I.Q. of 150. He would put the dumb one in

charge of the center, but then when things would get fouled up, he would blame the smart one. He also

avoid praising any of his students. Sometimes, one would hear him say things, like why can't you be as

good as so and so," but this was always for its effect on the one being scolded. He would boost the ones

who lacked confidence for example, to return to formal studies at the university, and he would deflate

the pretensions of those who were over confident or prideful. He could be merciless in skewering the

ego. This approach, while very controversial, requires the absolute integrity of the teacher. If it is self-

serving, then it is abusive. Ultimately, it is purifying, but one has to be committed to the process of

"letting go" of whatever comes up in the way of reactions. Ultimately, this leads to freedome from the

the samaskaras, or habitual tendencies, and to Self-realization. But interestingly enough, it is not a

method which is mentioned in any of the Yoga Siddha's texts, such as the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali or the

Tirumandiram. It is part of the Tantric tradition of honoring the guru, as a means of realizing the guru

within. If however, it involves only one ego submitting to the will of another ego, it is merely an exercise

in power. It finds its true value as a part of the "game of consciousness" wherein one uses the

relationship to realize the Self, the Seer, as opposed to the the Seen, and everything with form. The

"guru" is a principle of nature which leads one from the darkness of ignorance to the light of

consciousness; it can manifest through events, situations, and people, but when it manifests

consistently through an individual, we can say that this person is a "guru." One should not make the

mistake of confusing the person, with the 'guru principle," however. The person is a vehicle, and

sometimes the vehicle has flaws. The student must not give away his power to anyone, but must honor

the "guru principle" working through whomever or whatever brings wisdom to him. This is also why

Yogiyar could often say "I am not a guru," but also accept being honored as such.

Despite his eccentricities, Yogiyar was charming, and we loved him dearly. He would spend hours on the

telephone listening to some of his students on the other side of the country pouring our their problems.

He regularly slept only three hours a night, refusing to even eat his dinner until "Master's work was

done," which was usually around 3 a.m. We would rotate as his personal assistant every two weeks,

arriving fortified and prepared for non-stop karma yoga sessions, and leave exhausted. His level of

energy was nothing short of incredible. When the pressure of work, sadhana, karma yoga, and ego

crushing became too much, occasionally, someone would drop out. Perhaps they just wanted an easier

way. Our number became fewer, and Yogiyar, as we called him affectionately, made it even more

difficult for newcomers to join the dozen or so centers he had established around the USA. As our

numbers decreased, the burden increased on the remaining students, in terms of maintaining the

centers.

He was a remarkable person. Once, during a cross country pilgrimage, we stopped for the night on Pike's

Peak, Colorado. Yogiyar announced that he was going off into the forest to meditate alone, and that no

one should follow him. Overcome by curiosity, the author did follow him, and hiding behind a tree,

witnessed him sit down in meditation posture, cross his arms, roll up his eyes, and disappear into a ball

of light which resembled the sun! The author pinched himself several times, and rubbed his own eyes, to

make sure that he was not dreaming. After a half an hour, the ball of light slowly faded, and the familiar

form of Yogiyar returned. He got up, and as he began to walk back towards our camp, spotted the

author and rebuked him for having disobeyed him. When the author subsequently asked him what he

had been doing, Yogiyar told him that he was "planting seeds" in various places, which he expected

would grow into important centers of spiritual life some day in the future.

On many occasions Yogiyar also revealed his "siddhis" or yogic miraculous powers. This occurred in the

course of our interactions with him. He had an ability to know exactly what we were thinking, to visit us

during our dreams, and to tell us what we had been doing in private during the previous days, when we

were off on our own. But he never made a show of his powers. And he would not allow us to stay with

him for more than a few weeks, in most cases. He would send us off to various parts of the country or

abroad, to practice and to work, and to become strong. In this way, the author worked in a variety of

jobs, and started or developed several centers in countries as far flung and England, Australia, Malaysia,

India, Sri Lanka and various cities in the USA and Canada.

At the Parliament, in Sri Lanka in 1958, he demonstrated his ability to stop his pulse in one arm, while

doubling the pulse in the other arm, while delivering a lecture to the assembly. Two physicians held his

arms and reported on this following the demonstration. In 1967, in Australia, he demonstrated the

breathless state of samadhi, in a medical laborartory. Before going into this deep trance state, he

requested that the attending physician avoid any efforts to revive him. But, this request was ignored

when the doctor found that Yogo Ramaiah's heartbeat, breathing a pulse had all gone to zero. The

doctor injected him with a syrninge a substance to stimulate his heart, and he nearly died in the process

of coming back to life so suddenly. After this, Babaji told him to avoid such demonstrations in the future.

His greatest "siddhi" however, was perhaps his remarkable devotion and love for Babaji. This was

palpable, and when he would lecture it was as if the great Master himself spoke through Yogiyar. He

would chant with heartfelt devotion "Om Kriya Babaji Nama Aum," throughout the day. He frequently

referred things to Babaji, or mentioned in passing how Babaji had revealed certain things to him. Babaji

was the center of his life, and he made Babaji the center of our lives. He worked tirelessly to serve Babaji

in everyone who came to him. Whether it was through classes, individual counseling, group activities,

lectures or the organization of centers and ashrams where we could practice Kriya Yoga undisturbed, his

heart and mind were focused on service. Through his example, we also learned how Babaji taught him.

He often mentioned that Babaji would not "spoon feed to him" the personal lessons he needed to learn,

but tell him "to find out" himself, when faced with certain questions. In this way we came to understand

that Yogiyar had his own limitations, but as an elder student of Babaji, there was much to emulate in

him. A good sense of humor went a long way in accepting his ways, or admonishments. Even if we could

not understand why he dealt with us in certain ways, we knew that he loved us. Sometimes, he could

not pretend to be stern, and would crack a smile, in the midst of some admonishment; and we would

know that he was doing it for effect. His dramatic scenes left their impression on us. When giving

personal instructions over the phone, he would usually repeat the same thing over again several times,

in order to impress upon our subconscious the lesson he sought to convey.

From 1954 to the present, every year, with Babaj's guidance and inspiration, Yogi Ramaiah organized an

annual Parliament of World Religions and Yoga, alternating usually between a new site in India and the

West. At these two to three day conferences, which were open to the public free of charge, fifteen to

twenty speakers from various faiths shared in turn their beliefs and practices, and educated the public

as to their religious or spiritual path. They included Christian fundamentalists, Buddhist monks, Jewish

rabbis, American Indians, Yogis and Swamis, Catholic priests and even new age spiritual teachers. Their

theme was "unity in diversity" and they served as a powerful antidote to that most common of spiritual

diseases: religious fanaticism. It is a remarkable achievement to have continued this service for so long

and so well.

Yogi Ramaiah also exhibited a strong characteristic of his Chettiar ancestry: a need to build shrines.

Aside from the one mentioned above in Kanadukathan, he also built a small shrine to Babaji in the San

Thome ashram, in the early 1960's, a small yantra shrine on Bear Mountain, in New York in 1968, an

underground yantra shrine on Mount Shasta in 1970, a shrine to Ayyappa Swami in Imperial Valley,

California in 1972, a relatively large shrine, out of granite in 1974 on the birthplace of Babaji in Porto

Novo, Tamil Nadu, a large shrine to Muruga, at Richville, in upstate New York in 1975, another shrine to

Babaji in 1977 in Washington, D.C. and a shrine to the Divine Mother Kali in Long Island, N.Y. in 1983,

and subsequently moved to Grahamsville, N.Y. in the Catskills. In 1987 he also built a large beautiful

shrine to Palaniandavar (Muruga) on top of a hill at the campus of his college in Athanoor, Tamil Nadu.

In 1983 he built his most important shrine ever, at his ashram in Yuma, Arizona. It housed the granite

murthis or statues of the 18 Yoga Siddhas which he had been requisitioning for more than a dozen years

from Mahabalipuram, just south of Madras. It was his most ambitious construction project to date.

Knowing fully well that it would lie on a major earthquake fault, he had it built upon a concrete pile

foundation, sunk deep into the earth, using cement with the hardness of dams. For nearly forty days he

went practically without sleep, during its construction, so concerned was he that it be free of any defect.

When it was completed, a grand celebration was organized, and newspapers throughout Arizona carried

feature length news reports and many photographs of the exotic looking temple. Then, a couple of

weeks later, he had a major heart attack. The strain of the work had finally caught up with him. He

underwent quintuple bypass surgery at the Sinai Hospital in West Los Angeles. The surgeon, later told us

that his arteries were not blocked, but that they were remarkably delicate.

During his convalescence, Yogiyar began to make some changes not only in his lifestyle but also in his

organization. He announced the formation of a Board of Directors who would take over responsibility

for the administration of the various centers and ashrams, upon his death; he also took the author aside

one night, and under a lamp post dictated to him a list of conditions to fulfill in order to assume

responsibility for initiating others into the 144 Kriyas. He has never asked anyone else, before or since,

to fulfill this responsibility. It took the author three years to fulfill these conditions, which involved

strenuous sadhanas and other disciplines. When Yogiyar had confirmed their fulfillment, he asked

author to simply "wait."

In 1980 and 1981, Yogiyar sent the author to India and then to Sri Lanka. After completing some

assignments with regards to publications of the writings of Boganathar, he encouraged him to live

quietly at a secluded retreat, on the beach in Dehiwala, just south of Colombo. There was little to do, so

the author vowed to dedicate all of his time to intensive sadhana in silence there. The first three months

were difficult, because the mind was not able to distract itself in reading or work, but then night and day

became as one, and an ineffable peace began to permeate his consciousness. After eleven months, Yogi

Ramaiah came. The author did not want to end his tapas. Yogiyar insisted that he must return to

America, where he had a lot of work to do. But, to his pleasant surprise, the peace which he had gained

there remained always easily accessible. For this, he remains ever grateful. But before leaving he

dedicated a small shrine to Babaji which had been constructed at Katirgama, on the spot where Babaji

attained nirvikalpa samadhi, under the tutelage of Boganathar, and he dedicated a new seaside ashram

at 59 Peters Lane, Dehiwala, built with the assistance of Murugesu Candaswamy, and the former Chief

Justice of the Supreme Court, Dr. H.W. Tambiah, the honorary chairman of our Lanka Babaji Yoga

Sangam.

In 1985, the author accompanied Yogiyar on a two week tour of medical facilities in the People's

Republic of China. They were a strange sight to the Chinese, who were, at that time, almost all, still

attired in their drab "Maoist" suits. We ate only rice and stringy broccoli three times a day, so

unprepared were our hosts for vegetarians! Later that year, at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences,

he was invited to present a talk on Yoga along with several other distinguished speakers at a one day

conference on meditation.. On the speakers platform he was flanked by the His Holiness, the Dalai

Lama, a yong spiritual teacher Sri Ravi Shankar, a famous Jain monk, and the then Minister of Home

Affairs and future Prime Minister, Niramsinha Rao. When the Dalai Lama spoke haltingly, after each

sentence, he would pause, and ask his assistant, a translator, whether what he had said in English, was

correct. It was very charming. After speaking for only 15 of his allotted 45 minutes, the young Sri Ravi

Shankar, who was at that time, practically unknown to the public, announced that he would respectfully

give his remaining time to Yogi Ramaiah. Yogiyar spoke long and eloquently about Yoga Siddhantham

and Babaji, and the need to integrate our spiritual life, through meditation into all areas of our life.

Naramsinha Rao, greatly impressed the author when he said: "The reason why I meditate every day is

because it allows me to accept more and more responsibility."

In late 1985, the author organized the arrangements for 30 students from America to attend with

Yogiyar, the Maha Kumba Mehla in Hardwar, for 48 days, between February and April 1986. We resided

at the Tourist Bungalow by the Ganges, and every day enjoyed the company of thousands of sadhus and

devotees who participated in record numbers at this extraordinary event, the greatest in 60 years.

Afterwards, we all went to Badrinath, and enjoyed doing sadhana there in the sacred places associated

with Babaji.

In 1986, Yogi Ramaiah sold our centers in New York City and New Orleans, and with the proceeds from

the sale purchased 145 acres of land five kilometers from the village of Kanadukathan with the help of

two students, Meenakshisundaran of the USA, and Murugesu Candaswamy of Sri Lanka. After the

ground breaking ceremony for each of the nine buildings he hoped to build there, as part of a proposed

Yoga Rehabilitation Hospital and College, he left the author to administer the construction, assuring that

the work done by the contractors was according to our requirements. It was a daunting assignment.

During previous visits to India, rationing of materials and bureaucracy always made construction

projects such as the reconstruction of the San Thome ashram or Kanadukathan ashram very

problematic. It was desert scrub land, remote from any human habitations, with no water for more than

a kilometer. Fifty women coolies were engaged to transport water in buckets on their heads, so that

cement mortar could be mixed. In nine months, nine building went up, to the amazement of the author.

The Minister of Industries for the State of Tamil Nadu came and inaugurated the complex. When the

author returned to Canada a few months later, he made an application to the Canadian Agency for

International Development for a grant to support the new Rehabilitation center in India. The Canadian

government sent an aid officer to the complex in India, and made a report. While the facilities were

beautiful and well equipped, even with ambulances, he reported, there was no administration. Sadly,

our application for a grant was declined. The author began to wonder whether Yogiyar's unwillingness

to delegate and his need to control everything was again becoming his greatest obstacle. Even before

the complex was built, he and others had pleaded with Yogiyar not to build it in such an out of the way

place. It would serve its purposes, we felt, only near a more populated area. Yogiyar was adamant that it

be built only near Kanadukathan, and indicated that this was because he needed to prove something to

his family. The pattern of family karma had not yet been exhausted, but a few years later, Yogiyar was

accepted back into his family. They invited him to their functions and he was allowed to occupy one of

the rooms in Ananda Vilas, the room where he was born.

In 1986, Yogi Ramaiah sold our centers in New York City and New Orleans, and with the proceeds from

the sale purchased 145 acres of land five kilometers from the village of Kanadukathan with the help of

two students, Meenakshisundaran of the USA, and Murugesu Candaswamy of Sri Lanka. After the

ground breaking ceremony for each of the nine buildings he hoped to build there, as part of a proposed

Yoga Rehabilitation Hospital and College, he left the author to administer the construction, assuring that

the work done by the contractors was according to our requirements. It was a daunting assignment.

During previous visits to India, rationing of materials and bureaucracy always made construction

projects such as the reconstruction of the San Thome ashram or Kanadukathan ashram very

problematic. It was desert scrub land, remote from any human habitations, with no water for more than

a kilometer. Fifty women coolies were engaged to transport water in buckets on their heads, so that

cement mortar could be mixed. In nine months, nine building went up, to the amazement of the author.

The Minister of Industries for the State of Tamil Nadu came and inaugurated the complex. When the

author returned to Canada a few months later, he made an application to the Canadian Agency for

International Development for a grant to support the new Rehabilitation center in India. The Canadian

government sent an aid officer to the complex in India, and made a report. While the facilities were

beautiful and well equipped, even with ambulances, he reported, there was no administration. Sadly,

our application for a grant was declined. The author began to wonder whether Yogiyar's unwillingness

to delegate and his need to control everything was again becoming his greatest obstacle. Even before

the complex was built, he and others had pleaded with Yogiyar not to build it in such an out of the way

place. It would serve its purposes, we felt, only near a more populated area. Yogiyar was adamant that it

be built only near Kanadukathan, and indicated that this was because he needed to prove something to

his family. The pattern of family karma had not yet been exhausted, but a few years later, Yogiyar was

accepted back into his family. They invited him to their functions and he was allowed to occupy one of

the rooms in Ananda Vilas, the room where he was born.

Some may wonder why Babaji would have showered so much grace on his close disciples, V.T.

Neelakantan and Yogi Ramaiah, and then allowed their relationship to fall apart after fifteen years, and

for the latter to continue as he did. They ignore the fact that even Babaji allows those who are close to

him to learn their own lessons, and to work through their karmic tendencies. Babaji's disciples are not

robots, with samskaras erased, and enlightenment implanted by their Satguru. While romantic

autobiographies and polished biographies written by devotees usually avoid mention of the humanness

if not failings of their cherished subjects, such accounts do more damage than good. They give the false,

and romantic notion that the spiritual path is filled with miracles, that the guru will give us

enlightenment, and that human nature does not resist vehemently our efforts to become divine. This is

why, in writing this piece, the author has attempted to avoid varnishing the truth of things, and to

recount the humanness, the enigmatic, and the problematic, in the biography of Yogi Ramaiah, while

avoiding judgment as to why? In recent years, some have criticized him, and doubted him, but they have

done so without even knowing the person, nor anything of his life, and his struggles. I hope that this

account will cause them to pause, and to reflect more deeply upon their own human nature, before

"casting stones" towards others. May his life, and his example, in its entireity, serve as a lesson for us all.

Copyright January2005 M. Govindan. All rights reserved.

Swami Kriyananda

Talk by Swami Kriyananda: Yoga for the New Age

Online Articles

This talk was given on December 30, 2003, in honour of Mr. O. P. Ghai, at India International Centre,

New Delhi

I'm particularly honoured to be able to speak on the occasion of Mr. O.P. Ghai's life, his passing, and his

greatness as a human being, because we share the same values. I have devoted my entire life to just

what he talked about. Forty-four years ago, in 1959, I came to Delhi with the thought of founding a

centre here. The purpose of that centre was to create a place where people could affirm and celebrate

the unity of religions, the oneness of all faiths-just what Mr. Ghai believed in. My reason for seeking the

unity of religions is that underlying what they all try to do, there is one basic purpose. That is for

individuals to know themselves-to know who they are in relation to a higher and greater reality.

This centre was for me a very big thing. I was able, after months of effort and a great deal of struggle, to

get permission of Nehru himself. He walked the land that I wanted in the Green Belt area, near Birla

Mandir, and he gave his approval. A great saint, Neem Karoli Baba, said, "It will come up." By contrast,

my own organisation was horrified at what I had done. I couldn't understand it. They were sectarian,

unfortunately, as most people are. Being sectarian, they were afraid of anything that perhaps would not

be under their absolute and rigid control. They threw me out on my ear, as we say in America, and for

many years I didn't know what God wanted of me, because I thought this project was something so

important.

But, in fact, as always happens whenever we go through a great test and believe in God, and do it for

God, it is not the tragedy that it seems. It was my greatest good fortune, and perhaps the most

auspicious event of my life, when that happened. This is because, in the meantime, I have been able to

build a base of seven communities in Italy and America, with a total of about a thousand resident

members. We are dedicated to these principles. We not only practice principles, we seek to experience

those principles through the practice of yoga and through communion with God every day, and not just

having beliefs. People believed the world was flat, but that did not make it so. Believing in God Himself

does not matter, it is what you experience of Him that does matter. Our endeavour, humble but sincere,

has been to experience God in our lives.

For many years friends like Mr. Inder Jit and others have urged me to come back to India and take up

that work, but I said, "No, not unless I feel my Guru wants it." Finally, just two months ago, I felt that

now the time has come. I am 78 years old now. That is not an age at which people can normally be

expected to do a new work, especially in a new country. But I have a large team of people who work

with me now. They are very competent. My way of management is to empower, not to take power and

use them for my glory, but to help them all. I believe in letting people make their own mistakes. In that

way they learn. So we have very competent teachers and leaders in many communities. I have a good

team. They have come here to do this work in India that I was not able to do then. This work, about

which Neem Karoli Baba seemed to be wrong, now is finally bearing fruit and it looks like it will happen.

My effort in this world has been partly what Mr. O. P. Ghai brought to the world; partly to bring in the

practices of yoga to make these things real experience and not just beliefs; and partly-entirely, really-to

spread my Guru's mission. And what was that mission? It was specifically to usher in a new age. It is very

clear, especially to somebody like me who has lived for most of the last century, that we are in a new

age. I grew up in Romania, and when I was a child, if an airplane flew overhead we would go out and

wave at it, it was so unusual. When my father was brought back to America every three years, we went

by ship. There were no planes going across the Atlantic in those days. Our radio was a large piece of

furniture, and to get BBC in London from Romania involved turning the dial and getting sounds like,

"Ow, ow , ow, this is BB . . . ow, ow." It was very difficult to hear anything. Someone visited us in

Bucharest from the U.S. and told us about television. I thought that such a thing was impossible.

Back in 1949, Popular Science magazine, I think it was, stated that one day computers would weigh as

little as one ton! Even in 1979 the president of IBM predicted that they would never have computers so

small that they would be in the home. Look how this world has changed! Not very long ago, in the

1920s, astronomers still believed that the sun was the centre of the whole universe. Think how fast

things have changed. Back in the 1930s when I was in school in England, a teacher told me, "Do you

know that there are other star systems like ours? All the stars we see are only one star system, and

there are maybe two or even three other galaxies!" Now we know that there are something like 100

billion, and who's counting?

This world, as we know it today, is not at all what it used to be, what our grandparents knew. My

grandparents were in what we know in America as the Oklahoma Land Rush, when they opened up the

Oklahoma Territory and they went in to claim land for themselves. That was not so long ago. How the

world has changed. With this change has come an extraordinary complication in people's lives. We no

longer know whether our values are valid or not. I remember in 1962 I read an article in Span magazine,

which was the U.S. Information Service magazine in India. I was amazed to see how modern scientific

discoveries have caused people who think deeply to question whether there is any value in life at all. We

find that people today doubt their most fundamental values. What we are really facing today is the

confusion between old ways of looking at things and new ways. Copernicus, only four or five centuries

ago, announced his discovery that this world is not the centre of everything. Now we find that there is

no centre in anything. People don't know what this means.

There is always a balance between West and East, and there is a very important shift now. What India,

and yoga specifically, has taught is that you are the centre of the universe. In a universe where you can't

find a centre, suddenly you begin to discover meaning in one of the most ancient teachings: "Centre

everywhere, circumference nowhere." The centre of everything is right in every atom. It's in you. If you

want to know anything in the universe you have to begin by knowing yourself. This is why the ancient

Greeks have the saying, "Know thyself."

In this, the West has gotten completely confused. Since the whole world has taken its modern values

from the West, everybody is confused. They begin to think that there are no values, there is no truth,

there is no meaning in life. Many young children have committed suicide, because learning this kind of

teaching in school they come to think that life is useless, and, losing any sense of direction, they kill

themselves. It's a terrible disease, this modern philosophy.

But yoga has the answer to all this. Yoga can teach you that from your centre there are certain things

that you can comprehend that will help you to get meaning out of everything. I wrote a book called Out

of the Labyrinth, which shows how we must begin with ourselves and ask ourselves a few basic

questions. One of the most important is, "Does it work?" All these abstract theories-if they don't work,

what meaning have they? What is the use of them?

What does work? A very interesting point is one I brought out in another book of mine, Hope for a

Better World! Adam Smith pointed out-perfectly correctly-that everybody thinks first of himself, tries to

seek his own gains, his own benefits. People, hearing this, were outraged, saying, "This is un-Christian.

This is against the teachings of religion." Really, Smith's point is just too evident to doubt. But the

question has not been explored completely enough.

I take the example of a small town with two bakers. One of them we'll call William Baker. The other one,

who has his bakery shop down the street, we'll call Joe Crumpet. William Baker thinks only in terms of,

"What can I get?" With every customer who comes in, he thinks, "What am I going to earn from this

man?" That is the kind of philosophy it seems Adam Smith was recommending. Let us say that Joe

Crumpet, on the other hand, likes his customers. He is happy to see them, and thinks, "What can I give

to you?" not, "What can I take from you?" If you look at these two people you will see inevitably that

William Baker is not a happy man. Joe Crumpet is happy. People want to go to Joe Crumpet because

they feel welcome. They don't want to go to William Baker because they don't feel welcome.

I was in Taormina, Sicily a few years ago. I was looking for a hat. I asked a shopkeeper there, "What hat

do your customers like the best?" She responded, "Oh, I don't care; I just take their money and tell them

goodbye." I said, "You have to work in this shop for eight hours a day. If you have that attitude, can you

be happy just thinking of these people as statistics? Why don't you think in terms of making friends with

them?" This seemed like a pretty impudent thing for me to say, but I did say it, as I felt that this poor

lady didn't understand something important in life. The next year I went back there and she greeted me

with open arms. She was so happy to see me. I'd evidently really made an impression. Our hotel had

given us a bottle of wine, and I don't drink wine. I went and gave the bottle to this lady. She kissed me

on the cheek and she was weeping.

Life is so wonderful. Someone said to me just the other day, "I think what you're teaching is very good,

but I have to do my work eight hours a day. How can I use that teaching? How can I seek

Satchidanandam?" I said, "Why don't you seek it while you are working? Why wait till you get home and

shut your meditation room door and sit to meditate? Why not enjoy what you are doing? Why not bring

Satchidanandam into your daily activity?"

Bring ananda into your daily activity. That's why we've called our communities, "Ananda." This is what

religion is all about-not how to separate God from daily life, but how to bring God into daily life. It is

wonderful to see people when they come to visit our communities, because they come from the cities,

they come with their faces lined with tension and stress. After only a weekend you see them relaxed and

smiling. If they stay there a week they feel as if they had been reborn. It is God who gives you a rebirth.

You don't do it. We don't do it. But you can remind people of who they really are.

There are two ways of looking at the universe. One is with dark glasses, the other is with clear glasses. If

you can look on life with a kindly eye, you see friends everywhere. I had a wonderful experience in Paris

some years ago. It was my birthday and I wanted to go to a concert. I got to the church where the

concert was held, and it was completely full. They were turning people away. I said to the person at the

door, "But this is my birthday!" He then brought me in and seated me behind the altar in such a way

that I was facing the audience of 700 people. It was a wonderful concert, full of joy. After the concert, a

woman came up to me on the Metro, the subway, and said, "Don't you remember me? I was in the

audience." I said no. With 700 people was I supposed to remember her? She had felt a joy in me that

she recognized in herself. That made us kindred. She sat down next to me in the Metro, and told me the

problems she was having in her home, with her daughter, telling me the sort of things you would never

tell to any stranger. You find that when you have that attitude, wherever you go you make friends. You

don't find strangers, if you can reach this point where you feel that everybody is your own family, your

own self.

That is what yoga can give to the world. In this world, people don't know whether the Bible is right,

whether the Koran is right, or the Gita is right, or all these other shastras and teachings are right. They

seem to be different, and in some ways, there are differences. You find that underneath all of that there

is a similarity that touches everybody. These teachings begin with you. Don't think about the

abstractions-how many angels there are in heaven-it doesn't matter a damn. But if you can find peace of

heart through your religion, why bother with terrorism, why bother with blowing up World Trade

Centers, why bother with all the stupid acts people are committing these days, thinking they are going

to go to heaven. I think that if the average person found himself in heaven, it would be hell for him. He is

so used to fighting and arguing, he would be utterly miserable. He would have nobody to fight with

anymore. People want disharmony because they are used to it. But if we create harmony in ourselves,

we don't have to go to swarg to find it. We have it right here. And you can find it even here in Delhi. Find

that bliss within. Yoga is important in this respect. It is not just a teaching.

You have three basic philosophies in India. One is Sankhya, which tells you the need to seek truth. The

next is Yoga which tells you how to seek truth. Finally comes Vedanta which teaches you what the truth

is. "Aham brahm asmi" is a vedantic saying. But it doesn't have any great meaning if you don't feel it. If

you say, "Everything is Brahma and I am Brahma, but where is my next meal?" if you get angry because

somebody spilled coffee on your tie, then there is something wrong. Yoga is the important thing

because it tells you how to do it. It is important to know that you want it. That is the first sutra of

Patanjali: "Now we come to the study of yoga." After the study of Sankhya, you say, "Well, what do I do

about it?" And that takes you to yoga.

There are of course many kinds of yoga, but the classic goal is to get into your own spine. Do you know

why it is that every religion speaks of heaven as up above and hell down below? People on the other

side of the world speak of heaven as in a direction opposite to what we think of as up. This is because

they are not talking of objective things; they are talking of their own bodies. When you feel well, when

you feel happy, we have words for it: You say you are "uplifted," "high," "like flying." Every language, I

imagine-I only speak nine-speaks of an upward movement for feeling good and a downward movement

for feeling bad. You don't ever find people slouching, looking down, and saying, "I feel so happy." The

very feeling of being happy makes you start looking up. And you don't find people looking up and saying,

"I'm so miserable." These are definite directions.

Yoga teaches that there is a corresponding reality between you and what you are trying to accomplish in

life. It doesn't matter how your neighbours treat you. Everything you are trying to accomplish is not in

relation to other people. This is the great delusion that has been put on man. Even as babies our energy

goes outward. The inward movement that takes place when we die is something that we need to

practice all the time. We need to withdraw our energy into the Self. Our real search for happiness is a

search for our inner Self. The happier we are inside, the more the whole world looks beautiful. The more

unhappy we are, the more we think the whole world stinks. We want to find that movement inwardly

which can change our level of consciousness. It is so simple. The trouble with spiritual teachings is that

they are so simple and man is basically complex. Man can't return easily to simplicity. He can hold that

thought for a moment, but then starts thinking other things. Somebody is peaceful in the office and

everyone around him feels his peace, and asks him, "Why are you so peaceful?" He says, " I meditate

every day and I practice the presence of God." And they say, "Yes, fine, but it is probably because you

eat bran for breakfast." They can't get it into their heads that a simple change of consciousness will

change your entire life.

I began my work without knowing anything. I have never studied the subjects I am considered to be an

expert in. The reason is, quite simply, that I have experienced them, I have lived them. Many large

corporations in America have bought my book, The Art of Creative Leadership, and shared it with their

staffs, in the hundreds. I have never read a book on leadership. I think that is why it is a good book. I

have not written from theory; I have written from actual experience. It is the same with everything else I

have done. Even the music I have written has come from experience. Try to gain experience in life. Ask

yourself this simple question: not, "Is it logical?" but, "Does it work?" I read a book not long ago, called,

Books that Changed the World. It includes people like Darwin, Freud, Smith, and Machiavelli-all these

people who have undermined the faith of humanity. I have asked the simple question in addressing each

one, "But, does it work?" You find in every case that it doesn't. Look at Freud. How many saints has that

man produced? I think it is very simple. The sum is zero. How many happy people has he produced? I

think probably zero, except that happiness being a relative term, you can't always be sure. Somebody

may say he is happy because he is less miserable than he used to be. Darwin is one of the basic dogmas

of our age. But he doesn't bring in the most fundamental thing, which is consciousness.

Always my question is, "Does it work?" That is the question that brought me to yoga. I read Yogananda's

book, Autobiography of a Yogi in New York. I had just put my mother on a ship to go to Egypt, to join my

father who was posted there by his company. I was free. Free, but desperate. I wanted to know what life

is all about. I wanted to know whether there is a God and what He is like. I didn't know anything about

Indian philosophy. I went uptown in New York City, and there I discovered Autobiography of a Yogi. I

read that book without stop. One week later I was going cross country, four days and four nights-

America is a big country-all the way to Los Angeles. There I met Yogananda. This was in 1948. I was 22

years old.

I was a typical, arrogant, young American male. I didn't think I would ever say these words to anybody,

but when I met him, I said, "I want to be your disciple." Sudden decisions usually don't remain. This

remained all my life. Never for a moment have I doubted he was my guru. Finally in my life I had met a

great man. One great man can inspire others to seek that greatness. This is what we need today. We

need to aspire to human greatness.

How many newspapers have I read in which half the parliament got up and stormed out in disharmony,

arguing, and bickering! In our community, which is now 35 years old, I cannot remember a single

meeting that did not end in complete harmony. I think that is the kind of example that is needed today.

China and Russia have killed something like a hundred million of their own people since 1917. That is a

hard thing to believe, but it is true. Killing their own people just because they didn't agree! I happened

to meet J. P. Narayan on a train. I didn't even know who he was, but I found that we had the same ideas.

He used to be the number two man in the government, but he left government because, he said, "These

things can't be imposed on people. We have to inspire people to want them." It has to come up from a

grassroots level. This is what we have done in our communities, too-to try to create examples that other

people will find inspiring and decide, "Why don't we do that, too?" So it is that people come from great

distances-India, Taiwan, China, Japan, all over the West, even Africa-everywhere. They come to find out,

"Why does this place work?" It works because we believe in changing ourselves. We are not interested

in converting others. I've always said, "I don't want to convert anyone, except to his own higher Self."

When people come and see an example that makes them think, "Maybe I could be happy. Maybe I could

learn to like others. Maybe I could be peaceful."-when you see examples of it actually working-that's

when people say, "Yes, let me try it." If we want to change the world, this is how it must begin.

I think in this context the most important contribution that India has to make to the world is yoga. I

don't mean yoga asanas. I mean becoming centred in yourself, learning to raise your energy and to unite

it with the higher consciousness. You can do it. The most criminal person in the world has God in him if

he would only know it. If he would learn to raise his consciousness he would change. Many years ago I

was a young man, twenty-three, and I fell into a mood. I couldn't talk myself out of this mood. Every

time I tried to reason, my reason would show me all the reasons why I should be in a mood. Then I

asked myself, "Do you like being in this mood?"-"No, I don't like this mood at all." I said, "Then what are

you going to do about it?"-"Well, I am going to try to change. If I can't reason my way out of it, I'll try to

change my level of consciousness."

I sat down in my little meditation room. I put my mind very strongly at the point between the eyebrows.

Five minutes is all it took. All of a sudden I saw the world in a completely different light. I saw my life in a

completely different light. I saw all the reason in the world why people had done things the way they

had. I realized that my whole understanding of life was different. We can do that ourselves. Don't think

that the world will change for you. But, if you change, not only can you find that the world looks better,

but you will see that somehow it reacts differently. Somehow it wants to act differently with you.

An interesting example was one time in 1955 when I was going to fly from London to Paris. I was a little

worried because I was standing in line behind a man who had excess baggage. He was furious and

demanded to see the manager. The angrier he got the more determined the clerk was to make him pay

extra. I had many more bags than the man in front of me! I prayed, "Divine Mother, help me." I came to

the clerk, thinking, "Divine Mother is in this form," and looked at him with a smile. He looked at me and

looked at my bags, and just said, "Oh, okay."

The world changes in response to who you are. And if it doesn't, then at least you don't lose your peace

of mind. When I was thrown out of my organisation I figured it would be very easy to be bitter. Then I

would lose twice, because I would also become bitter and unhappy. Why not just love? I discovered that

by loving I was happier. I don't worry about how others treat me. That doesn't matter to me, because I

have my own peace. You can change the world, to the extent that you will ever be able to, the more you

change yourself. The wonderful thing is that every great master who has come into this world has had

enemies, has had opposition. But it doesn't matter anymore. You just realise that in every play there has

to be a villain. It would be very boring if it were always the same. But you can be peaceful always. The

great avatars, the great masters, always forgave. They did it for a very selfish reason, you might say:

They were happy when they forgave. The truth is that in that state you see that all really are your own.

You don't have to reason it through. You love them no matter how they treat you.

Yoga for a new age I think is a very, very important thing. The more that people can be brought to know

the world from their own centre, the more they will be able to emanate peace. This is what Mahatma

Gandhi was trying to say. If we are peaceful, then we can change the whole world. Then there is no wish

to do harm to anybody. Those who wish you harm are only hurting themselves. They can't hurt you.

Your attitude changes other people. This is true when we bring God and religion into it. Without religion,

humanity is like a body without a head. We have to bring the head in, and that is the soul-the inner,

guiding spirit. Without that, humanity is lost. But, thank God there is that.

We need to show people not just beliefs. Science has brought us the way to prove what it states. Many

years ago people thought the world was flat. Then Columbus went to America and discovered that it

wasn't. I've always wondered why people thought that way. When you see a ship in the distance, you

first see the mast, then you see the deck, then finally the whole ship. There is a curvature in the ocean.

Nobody thought of that. I don't know why.

There are truths staring us in the face, but they won't change you. You can change yourself. You read

about the New Age, and about how different everything will be. We have found enough outer changes

already to realize that these are not changing man. There was a book by Edward Bellamy, Looking

Backward. In the book, he fell asleep and woke up after a hundred years. In the late 1900s he woke up

and found that every home had a radio with music that came from a central station. He said, "I can't

imagine anything more wonderful. Having music in every home is my ideal of perfection." Well, you and

I live in that kind of world. Is it any better? If anything, it may be a lot worse. Things are not going to

make you perfect. This is one of the great superstitions that the West has imposed on the world, that

somehow happiness will come from things. It will never come from things. You must make yourself

happy.

This is where the East and the West need to be combined. Don't take too much from the West.

Remember that your values are always going to be, as they were in ancient times, in your own self. Yoga

can bring you back to that. Yoga can give you the compass that you need, where the understanding is

always turned toward the truth. It can give you that direction that you need in order to remain

unshaken in this time of change. I believe that we are coming to a time of great change. I don't think

you've see anything yet. I think there will be a great economic upheaval. I think there will be great wars

and troubles-all a part of the shakedown. But we are in a new age. My guru's guru said that we are in

fact in Dwapara Yuga, not Kali Yuga. This new age is an age of energy-an age in which energy can be

used benignly, not destructively. I urge you to take these things seriously. Don't take too much from the

West. Don't take too many values from the West. Look into your own culture and realise what you've

got right here, because the West needs it and needs it badly.

Babaji

Who is Babaji?

In 1946, Paramahansa Yogananda, one of modern India's greatest yogis, revealed in his classic

"Autobiography of a Yogi," the existence of a Christ-like saint, an immortal yogi, Mahavatar Babaji.

Yogananda related how Babaji had for centuries lived in the Himalayas guiding many spiritual teachers

at a distance, usually without their even knowing it. Babaji was a great siddha, one who had overcome

ordinary human limitations, and who worked silently, behind the scenes for the spiritual evolution of all

humanity. Paramahansa Yogananda also revealed that it was Babaji who taught a powerful series of

yogic techniques, know as "Kriya Yoga," to Lahiri Mahasaya, around 1861, and who subsequently

initiated many others, including Yogananda`s own Christ-like guru, Sri Yukteswar, some thirty years

later. Yogananda spent 10 years with his guru before Babaji himself appeared to him, and directed him

to bring the sacred science of Kriya to the West. Yogananda fulfilled this sacred mission from 1920 to

1952, when he left his body and attained the yogic state of mahasamadhi.

As a final tribute to the efficacy of Kriya Yoga and the blessings of his lineage, the body of Yogananda did

not deteriorate during the 21 days it lay exposed, before being interred in a crypt in Los Angeles. March

7, 2002 marked the 50th anniversary of Yogananda's remarkable passing. When his remains were

transferred to a permanent "samadhi" shrine in March, 2002, millions around the world remembered

with gratitude what Yogananda's legacy has given to them.

In South India, Babaji had been preparing, since 1942, two souls for the task of disseminating his Kriya

Yoga: S.A.A. Ramaiah, a young graduate student in geology at the University of Madras and V.T.

Neelakantan, a famous journalist, and close student of Annie Besant, President of the Theosophical

Society and mentor of Krishnamurti. Babaji appeared to each of them independently and then brought

them together in order to work for his Mission. In 1952 and 1953 Babaji dictated three books to

V.T.Neelakantan: "The Voice of Babaji and Mysticism Unlocked," "Babaji's Masterkey to All Ills," and

"Babaji's Death of Death." Babaji revealed to them his origins, his tradition, and his Kriya Yoga. They

founded on October 17, 1952, at the request of Babaji, a new organization, "Kriya Babaji Sangah,"

dedicated to the teaching of Babaji's Kriya Yoga. The books created a sensation at the time of their

publication and distribution throughout India. The SRF (Self Realization Fellowship) attempted to have

them and the Kriya Babaji Sangah suppressed, and it took the intervention of the then Prime Minister of

India, Pandit Nehru, who was a friend of V.T. Neelakantan, to end their efforts. In 2003, Babaji's Kriya

Yoga Order of Acharyas reprinted these three books in one volume called "The Voice of Babaji."

It is in the "Masterkey of All Ills," that Babaji reveals his answer to the question "Who Am I". In essence,

this reveals, that when we know ultimately who we are, we will know who Babaji is. That is, Babaji does

not identify with a limited human personality, or series of life events, or even his divinely transformed

body. However, in writings he also revealed for the first time a number of precious details about his life

story, in order to outline for us a path to Self-realization, which anyone may aspire to. These details have

been subsequently documented in the book "Babaji and the 18 Siddha Kriya Yoga Tradition."

Babaji was given the name "Nagaraj," which means "serpent king," referring to "kundalini," our great

divine potential power and consciousness. He was born on the 30th day of November 203 A.D., in a

small coastal village now known as Parangipettai, in Tamil Nadu, India, near where the Cauvery River

flows into the Indian Ocean. His birth coincided with the ascendancy (Nakshatra) of the star of Rohini,

under which Krishna was also born. The birth took place during the celebration of Kartikai Deepam, the

Festival of Lights, the night before the new moon during the Tamil month of Kartikai. His parents were

Nambudri Brahmins who had immigrated there from the Malabar coast on the western side of south

India. His father was the priest in the Shiva temple of this village, which is today a temple dedicated to

Muruga, Shiva's son.

At the age of 5, Nagaraj was kidnapped by a trader and taken as a slave to what is today Calcutta. A rich

merchant purchased him, only to give him his freedom. He joined a small band of wandering monks, and

with them became learned in the sacred religious and philosophical literature of India. However, he was

not satisfied. Hearing of the existence of a great siddha, or perfected master, named Agastyar, in the

south, he made a pilgrimage to the sacred temple of Katirgama, near the southern most tip of Ceylon,

the large island just south of peninsular India. There he met a disciple of Agastyar, whose name was

Boganathar. He studied "dhyana," or meditation, intensively and "Siddhantham," the philosophy of the

Siddhas, with Boganathar for four years. He experienced "sarvihelpa samadhi," or cognitive absorption,

and had the vision of Lord Muruga, the deity of the Katirgama temple.

At the age of 15, Boganathar sent him to his own guru, the legendary Agastyar, who was know to be

living near to Courtrallam, in Tamil Nadu. After performing intensive yogic practices at Courtrallam for

48 days, Agastyar revealed himself, and initiated him into Kriya Kundalini Pranayama, a powerful

breathing technique. He directed the boy Nagaraj to go to Badrinath, high in the Himalayas, and to

practice all that he had learned, intensively, to become a "siddha." Over the next 18 months, Nagaraj

lived alone in a cave practicing the yogic techniques which Boganathar and Agastyar has taught him. In

so doing, he surrendered his ego, all the way down to the level of the cells in his body, to the Divine,

which descended into him. He became a siddha, one who has surrendered to the power and

consciousness of the Divine! His body was no longer subject to the ravages of disease and death.

Transformed, as a Mah or great siddha, he dedicated himself to the upliftment of suffering humanity.

Since that time, Babaji has continued to guide and inspire some of history`s greatest saints and many

spiritual teachers, in the fulfillment of their mission. These include Adi Shankaracharya, the great 9th

century A.D. reformer of Hinduism, and Kabir, the 15th century saint beloved by both the Hindus and

Muslims. Both are said to have been personally initiated by Babaji, and refer to him in their writings.

He has maintained the remarkable appearance of a youth of about 16 years of age. During the 19th

century Madame Blavatsky, the founder of the Theosophical Society, identified him as the Matreiya, the

living Buddha, or World Teacher for the coming era, described in C.W. Leadbetter's "Masters and the

Path." In 1861, Babaji revived Kriya Yoga, which Patanjali refers to in his famous "Yoga-Sutras." Patanjali

wrote this classic text of yoga about the 3rd century A.D. In it he defines Kriya Yoga in II.1 as "constant

practice (particularly by the cultivation of detachment), self-study and devotion to the Lord." However,

along with what Patanjali described as Kriya Yoga, Babaji added the teachings of the tantra, which

includes the cultivation of "kundalini," the great potential power and consciousness, through the use of

breathing, mantras and devotional practices. His modern synthesis of "Kriya Yoga," includes a rich

variety of techniques.

During a six month period in 1954, at his ashram near Badrinath, in the Garwhal Himalayas, Babaji

initiated S.A.A. Ramaiah into a complete system of 144 Kriyas, or practical techniques, involving

postures, breathing, meditation, mantras and devotional techniques. The latter blossomed as a yogi,

and began a worldwide mission to bring this system, referred to as "Babaji`s Kriya Yoga" to thousands of

aspirants. In 1970 to 1971 he initiated the author, M. Govindan, into all 144 Kriyas. M. Govindan

practiced these intensively on the average for eight hours per day for 18 years under Yogi Ramaiah's

guidance in India, the USA and Canada. In 1983, Yogi Ramaiah gave him rigorous conditions to fulfill to

begin initiating others. After fulfilling these, Babaji himself appeared to Govindan in 1988 and directed

him to go and teach His Kriya Yoga to others.

Babaji gradually reveals himself to his devotees and disciples, capturing their hearts in various types of

personal devotional relationships in which he guides them in their development. His relationship with

each of us is unique and according to our individual needs and nature. He is our personal Guru. As our

hearts expand our communion with Him culminates with the "universal vision of love," wherein one

witnesses Babaji in everything.

Fortunately, Babaji has at times come out from behind the veils of anonymity which he finds so useful

for his work. Babaji has appeared to Swami Satyaswarananda in the Kumaon Hills of the Himalayas, in

the early 1970`s and given him the assignment of translating and publishing the writings of Lahiri

Mahasaya. This he has done in a series, the "Sanskrit Classics," from his home in San Diego, California.

Shibendu Lahiri, one of the great-grandsons of Lahiri Mahasaya, also claims to have been visited by

Babaji, at his home, in the late 1980's. Babaji is said to have blessed him in his efforts to teach Kriya Yoga

all over the world. Babaji gave his "darshan" on the vital plane to the author, M. Govindan, in October

1999, on two occasions. This occurred 30 kilometers north of Badrinath, at an altitude of nearly 5,000

meters, at the source of the Alakananta River. During these visitations, Babaji appeared as a radiant

youth, with copper colored hair, clad in a simple white "dhoti" or waist cloth, and allowed Govindan to

touch his feet.

One cannot really know who Babaji is, or even begin to conceive of his grandeur, without appreciating

the culture of the Siddhas from which he has emerged. Rather than seeking an other worldly escape in

some heaven, after realizing the presence of the Divine within, the Siddhas sought to surrender their

entire being to It, and to allow It to manifest at all levels. They sought a complete transformation of our

human nature.

"Thirumandiram," by the Siddha Thirumoolar, written in the 2nd to 4th century A.D. in 3,000 gemlike

verses, reveals the breath and depth of the Siddhas attainments. Our research has revealed that

Thirumoolar was a brother disciple of Boganathar, Babaji's guru, and of Patanjali, one of the most well

known sources of Yoga. While most of the Siddha's literature has not been translated outside of their

native language of Tamil and Sanskrit, there exist a few good studies, most notably Dr. Kamil Zvelibil's

"Poets of the Powers," and Professor David Gordon White"s "The Alchemical Body." Both of these

academic works demonstrate at length the remarkable attainments of the Siddhas, and reveal that

Babaji was not some unique extraterrestrial. He manifests what Sri Aurobindo referred to and aspired to

for all humanity: "the supramental transformation" of our human nature, perhaps the next step in our

evolutionary process. As such, he is not our savior. Nor is he the founder of some religion. He does not

seek our adulation or even our recognition. Like all of the Siddhas, he has surrendered completely to the

Supreme Being, the Supreme Abstraction, and as a divine instrument, brings down into this murky world

the clear light of consciousness, unconditional joy and supreme peace. May everyone achieve this

greatest human potential.