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Coming to the end of the year, it is only fitting that we share some of the many vignettes and anecdotes of V.S.Mani that devotees, friends and family members sent us in the aftermath of his passing away last summer on 19th July. We are sorry not to be able to include all the stories that came to us but the following is a sample.

Some five years ago, I was in a dilemma whether to continue working or retire. When Mani Anna got to know of it, he told me not to resign my work as editor of The Astrological Magazine. A year later, still unable to take the step, I called Mani Anna and asked him to check with Bhagavan by placing folded slips of paper with the words ‘Give up’ and ‘Continue’ written on them in Bhagavan’s shrine and pick one of them as coming from Bhagavan. Such a practice is traditionally approved of when one has to make difficult decisions but is usually assigned to a kid below 3 or 4 years to pick one slip of paper from many placed before a deity. I for one always respected Mani-anna as one who was guileless and very close to Bhagavan due to his complete and total involvement with the ashram. A few days later, I received a slip with ‘Continue’ written on it from Manianna. Things were very difficult those days but with Mani Anna also telling me not to resign (that was even before the slips ritual), and now Bhagavan’s endorsements of Manianna, I gave up all thought of resigning and plodded on in my work.

Many devotees recalled recently how Mani Anna gave them saplings or cuttings from Ashram trees for their centres, institutions or homes, always with a rider to take good care of the tree. He has also given a Vilvam sapling that has grown into a beautiful tree at Ambika and Kameshwar’s home at Arunachala. Mani Anna had such a sharp memory that he would not only enquire about the people at home and office but also about the saplings and cuttings that he had given. He, of course, remembered practically every devotee by name. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he remembered every Ashram cow by name and had a name for every tree and plant. He knew about all their qualities without a doubt. He introduced me to the quaint fragrance of a plant that grows right next to the Ashram office. “Some people don’t like this fragrance”, he told me, “But it is very unique.” Ever since I have always enjoyed that slightly pungent fragrance. Mani Anna in his typical manner made out that his memory for plants and trees was no big deal. “When you have love for something or a deep interest in something it is not surprising that you remember everything about it,” he said, which is of course very true. Yet how many of us have such great love for anything at all?

Once in 2017, I visited India from UK in June. It was blistering hot and Ganesanji had asked me specifically to go up the Hill and sit there even if it was for a few minutes. I was going to walk up the Hill around mid-day. Mani Anna heard of my plan and asked me to come to the office. He presented me with a ‘Vetti Hat’ to protect me from the sun and heat. It was a most kind gesture and touched my heart.

Talking with another devotee just recently, we both related how, whenever walking in front of Mani Anna’s office even still now, we instinctively look in to see if he is seated there at his simple desk. Consciously knowing that Mani is not there is not enough to override this instinct to receive his gracious look and friendly smile. I remember so well hearing his sonorous, “John!”, stopping me in my tracks. I would spin around to see what surprise or request had smilingly just occurred to him. Each day I enjoy the greenery, the trees especially, that he planted and bequeathed to us in the ashram.

Manianna had a ready smile for young children stepping into the Ashram for the first time and a word or two for the accompanying devotees which put them at ease. He had an eye for all that mattered, be they pertaining to the shrine, the gosala, the dining hall or the flower gardens. His meticulous attention to the flora and the fauna in the Ashram was indeed striking. He had an eye for nurturing new plants, so much so that once his father, then President T.N. Venkataraman in a humorous vein said, “If I sit quietly at some place in the Ashram for very long, Mani will surely come along and plant something on my head.”

I came to know Mani from the time he joined the ashram. I remember him organizing the planting of trees and what to me, at that time, seemed a very novel idea, namely, using the wastewater for watering plants. Every tree in the ashram had Mani’s special attention. Mani of course looked after the goshala too bringing in the best breed of cows. Sundaram once said to me that Mani was very particular about the ashram: “he makes sure that not one stone is out of its place”.

In 1987, I was living at Pondichery on the shores of the Bay of Bengal among the fisherfolk. They ate crabs and fish. I ate rice and idlies. They called me thatha (grandpa) for at 55 I looked 75. One evening a friend and fellow admirer of J Krishnamurti, Susunaga Weeraperuma and his Swiss German wife, Claudia visited me. They were on their way to Sri Ramanasramam. As it would turn out, I would accompany them. When we were leaving after a few days’ stay in Tiruvannalamalai, I told Weeraperuma that I would leave Pondichery and settle down near Ramanasramam as soon as I could.

True to my plan, after several months I began looking for a room at an affordable rate near the Ashram. Ashram President T. N. Venkataraman’s third son V. S. Mani, who was the Administrator of the Ashram, told me, “Why are you looking for a room outside? I shall give you a room inside the Ashram. You know many languages. Serve the Ashram by showing visitors around.”

I grew up hearing about Manimama and his kindness and generosity from my father who spoke of him both as a friend, and as a protector of Bhagavan’s devotees. By the time we met for the first time, at my parent’s house in the rural USA, I was a cautiously rebellious 14-year-old and I worried that I might accidentally make a bad impression on someone who I already held in high regard. I remember Manimama being warm and friendly, bending to tie Ramani’s sneakers before we walked in the fields, explaining that it was their first-time wearing shoes like those. Still, it took me years to get over the fear that I wasn’t proper enough which, as it turned out, didn’t matter so much. Manimama was always kind, inquisitive, and quick to make small jokes to put me at ease.

Before I left Tiruvannamalai this last July, I came to tell Manimama that I was returning to the USA for a couple of months. The news was a little unexpected and on my way to the office I saw and informed KVS Mama of it as well. KVS Mama came into the office while I was telling Manimama of my plans and referenced the news that I was going. Manimama immediately started jokingly scolding me saying, “What? I’m your father here! Why was he informed of your travel plans before I was?”

It’s amazing for me to think now of how shy and quiet I was with Manimama when we first met. Over the years his warmth, humour, perceptiveness, and care put me at ease and I loved how I could joke, play, and share so easily with him.

One of the last things Manimama said to me was that when I came back to Tiru, it was time for me to start wearing saris. I laughed, lightly protested, and tried to deflect (saris are beautiful but I still feel a little self-conscious wearing them) but he was firm. If you see me wearing a sari in the ashram in the future, you can be certain that it’s for his sake.

In January this year I requested Mani Anna that I wanted to interview him for our ‘Ramananjali 40’. Mani Anna had been an ardent fan of Ramananjali songs along with Ramani Manni and I was very keen on interviewing him. When I posed my request to him, he started with the brusque, “I don’t give interviews, ma” yet added immediately with affection, “but I cannot say no to Sarada. Where do you want to have the shooting? At the Ashram? At my seat in the office?” “How about at home Anna?” I asked. “That would be perfect, ma,” he said, “Come at 4.30.” “Are Ambika, Kameshwar, Poorna and Viraaj still in town?” he enquired. “Yes Anna.” “Then they should come home too. All of you come at 4pm so that you can have a cup of tea before the interview and they can leave after that.”

Mani Anna welcomed all of us warmly at Mangala Nivas. It brought memories of generations of hospitality that we have enjoyed there and from all the family members ofTNV Mama. On every visit of ours to Tiruvannamalai, as breakfast, lunch and dinner would be only at the Ashram, Nagu Mami would insist on our going to their home one afternoon for coffee and snacks, all of which would be tasty. Sushila Manni, Azhagu Akka and Sarasa Akka regularly gift us home grown fruits and vegetables and many are the ‘teas’ which we have enjoyed with them. Lakshmi Akka would be overjoyed whenever I went to her place for lunch and heap many servings of love. Ganesan Anna would treat us to some of the most delicious mangoes as Appa and he worked on planning some major event like the birth centenary of Bhagavan or the world tour of Ramananjali. He would expertly peel and slice the mangoes himself. So, it was tea with Mani Anna that afternoon.

Each of us was served exactly what we wanted by Vasantha — tea, coffee, green tea, the last with pure honey made by those who, Mani Anna explained, are associated with the Ashram’s beekeeping unit. He looked at my somewhat blank expression and said, “Don’t you know we do beekeeping at the Ashram, ma? We are a totally organic Ashram in every sense of the term,” he added with great satisfaction. And there were snacks and finally we were given a bag of ‘hibiscus tea’ to carry home, made of hibiscus flowers from their garden, carefully dried by Vasantha. Mani Anna told us about the various good qualities of hibiscus tea.

I got lost in Mani Anna’s affection and descriptions and may have been meddling with my beaded bracelet for it suddenly broke and the pink pearl like beads scattered all over the floor. Remembering his recent foot injury, I was worried that Mani Anna should not trip on any of them if by chance we missed finding it. Most of us were on our knees and all but one bead was found and put away safely. I had kept the beads away for getting the bracelet re-threaded and forgotten all about it when, a week after our return to Bangalore, I received a letter with that single bead carefully packed and enclosed. Mani Anna then sent me a message that Vasantha had found it when she swept the room the next day and so he was returning it to me and hoped I could get the bracelet properly restrung. What can one say of his loving care and his meticulous nature?

I interacted a good deal with Mani. There was not a single instance of disagreement or misunderstanding. We had the same Master, imbibed the same teaching and were on the same page in all matters. Bhagavan has graced all his devotees with the strength to face the vicissitudes and challenges of life. Mani had seen the Ashram pass through rough times and he had his own share of crises in his life but the staunch karmayogi, grhasthasannyasi that he was, he served the Ashram and devotees wholeheartedly and uninterruptedly. If as the Administrator he expected obedience from others, he himself was a model of implicit obedience.

Mani Anna was an example of how one could act in a spirit of devotion and goodwill towards all who came to the ashram. His range of contacts was extraordinary and if one had a problem, he would think about it for a moment and invariably he would remember someone who could be of assistance. He was also a person whom one could rely on to be discreet. He was a keeper of secrets. His cheerful demeanour would give one confidence. Many would relate that one of their first acts on entering the ashram for a stay after months if not years away, would be to see Mani Anna and tell him of the latest in their lives. His curiosity and goodwill were infectious.

One of the things I learned from Manianna is the discipline he held himself to. He was very traditional in upholding the chain of command and always put himself under the authority of the President. Whether it was a tiny matter or a matter of utmost importance he was keen that the President be consulted first.

Like me, many who have visited the Ashram know how spontaneously helpful Manianna was even to newcomers, like I was at that time. Manianna’s smiling and cheerful presence was undoubtedly one of the highlights of ashram for us. First thing we used to do on entering the ashram was to go to his table in the office room and look for him. Manianna initiated the Ramana satsang group in Singapore and was very happy that it took roots.

Mani Anna helped set up travel arrangements for interviews with early devotees for the documentary The Sage of Arunachala in 1989. He also closed the New Hall to visitors for two days in 1990 to allow Dennis and me to work undisturbed while making a mould of the statue of Bhagavan sculpted by Vaidyanatha Sthapati. Both The Sage of Arunachala and replicas of the statues now installed in Arunachala Ashrama, NYC and Clarence, Nova Scotia, would not have been possible without Mani Anna’s help. Additionally, when Mathy and Dr. Palanisamy Rathinasamy began plans to construct a replica of the Old Hall in Tampa Florida, it was Mani who supplied us with all the dimensions and images of architectural details of the Old Hall in Ramanasramam. From this, detailed drawings and schematics were developed to make the project a reality. An exact replica of the Old Hall now exists in Tampa because of Mani’s indispensable attention to detail and generous assistance.

In late June of 2020 during the Covid lock downs, I got a message from Manianna concerning the upcoming Saranagati draft, asking me to come to his house. He wanted to clarify some of the language in the issue surrounding the text dealing with the recent transmission of the Office of Ashram President. He wanted to let it be known publicly that he and his brother Ganesan supported the installation of their beloved nephew, Dr. Venkat S. Ramanan as Ashram President. He also wanted it to be stated that neither he nor Ganesan held any claims to Ashram administrative authority. He wanted the paraphrasing of Bhagavan’s Will that appeared in the text to be replaced with the exact language of Bhagavan’s Will in order to more adequately reflect and underscore the legality and propriety of the recent transfer of power according to Bhagavan’s stated wishes. I was struck by the intensity of his resolve to take every step possible to protect his nephew and the Ashram in the future by leaving no room for doubt where things stood in respect of the ongoing administration of the Ashram.

When I joined the Ashram as cashier in 2008, Manianna warmly welcomed me, saying “Welcome to Ramanasramam!” Working in the office alongside him, whenever he would introduce me to a devotee, he would always introduce me as his ‘colleague’, treating me as an equal without distinction of age, experience or position. The other aspect of Manianna I observed was that in his position, he had to be firm and yet kind. He had to decline many requests but would do it in such a way that the person on the receiving end would not feel dejected, but might even feel happy to have got a negative response. It was a unique quality that allowed him to foster harmony and execute his duties with compassion.

Dedication was Mani’s middle name. Surrender to Bhagavan, dedication to the Ashram and love for and service to the devotees. His devotion to Bhagavan was quiet, seen more in his life and action than in his words.

Once in 1992 an old devotee was stealthily carrying breakfast from her house for an inmate of the Ashram who was staying up at Skandasram. Not wanting it to be known what she was doing and especially wanting to avoid Manianna, she passed by the front gate and entered the Korangu Thottam gate. But upon entering, lo and behold! there was Manianna just at the gate itself. He enquired of her, “Why are you entering through this gate, and what is that in your hand?”

On another occasion, an inmate of the Ashram was asked to get two or three cardboard boxes to pack household articles. As the house owner was to hand over his house for the inmate, it was insisted to get the cardboard boxes from the Ashram’s packing room. Hesitantly, the inmate was ready to slip into the packing room to ‘borrow’ four packing boxes, but lo & behold! Manianna arrived at the scene and inquired of him, “What, Sir, are you doing in the packing room?”

There are many similar instances revealing Manianna’s intuition. He had a sharp eye for any activity that might not be fully above board. This keen feature of his managing style brought discipline to the Ashram.

Manianna and Ramani came to our home. During their visit, both took a keen interest and looked around the house. Manianna enquired about many details and was pleased with the house. Then he wanted to look at the garden and made special enquiries about the different plants we had. At one point, he asked me, “Have you planted any magadam?” He added, “magadam is an auspicious plant that is put around temples.” I answered, “Yes, we have” and I showed him a tiny plant very near to him. He was happy. Later I told Manianna we wanted a manoranjitam plant, he immediately called the Ashram gardener, Dandapani and asked him to give the same. Another time, I wanted Dandapani to come and have a look at our garden and advise us, and he readily agreed. Manianna’s visit to our house, his enquiries and his offers of help proves how genuinely he cared for the welfare of devotees.

Manianna had some reservations when the idea of a new dining hall was suggested simply because it meant chopping down a beautiful flowering tree gifted by a devotee from abroad. He relented to the proposal only when it was decided that the tree could be transplanted. Several old like-minded devotees stood near him throughout the delicate process of transplanting the revered tree, all with bated breath and prayers to Bhagavan.

A friend reflected on a carpenter and a welder who worked intermittently for the ashram. When the carpenter’s wife was pregnant, Mani-mama would give him money for his pregnant wife even though the carpenter wasn’t then doing any work for the ashram. The carpenter also recalls an occasion when Mani-mama passed by in an auto-rickshaw just when he was walking with his pregnant wife. Mama insisted on them taking the auto while he got out and walked to the ashram. The welder recounted a time when as a boy he and some friends would throw stones at the almond tree in the Ashram in order to knock down the fruit to eat. Once finishing their snack, they would spit the remainder back onto the ground. The Ashram guard seeing this subsequently refused to let them in saying that they didn’t know how to behave properly. Mani-mama came to the defense of the boys and said that such behavior is natural to boys this age and that they should not be prevented from entering the Ashram for that reason.

I was very pleased and honoured when Manianna and his wife Ramani, on a tour of Europe, made a short stay in Paris. I was able to spend the three days with them driving them around the city, showing them the most important sites, taking them to Versailles and welcoming them to my house. Sometimes he would jokingly remember my adventurous driving through the streets of Paris. The last words I heard him say a short time ago were through a mutual friend on the telephone, “Tell her to come to Arunachala as soon as possible”.

Mani was a man of few words and his love and surrender to Sri Bhagavan was hidden. In earlier years, I used to see him only one time in the morning when he would walk from the mother’s temple and go around the Samadhi. Then throughout the day he was busy doing the work assigned to him by Sri Bhagavan. Once I asked him, “Devotees talk about seeing Bhagavan in their dreams or having visions of him. You grew up as a child in front of him, do you see him?” He smiled and after a long pause said, “I don’t have such visions, and if I have seen him, it is his feet and legs up to the knees.” That reminded me of Laxman in the Ramayana. When asked by Sri Rama to identify some ornaments of Sita that were recovered after her abduction, Laxman replies that the only ornament he could identify is her anklets, since he had never gazed at her above the feet.

Mani once came to London with his wife, Ramani, to stay with Chris and Zarine Pegler en route to visit various friends in other parts of the world. He and Ramani with myself and my wife Diana all set off to spend the morning in Kew Gardens. Which turned out to be a delightful occasion. It was a sunny morning and we boarded a miniature train at one point to be taken on a tour of all the main features of those extensive gardens. Mani was amused when we stopped for the driver to feed some peacocks! “Driver happy. Birds happy!” he remarked. At another point when we were inside the vast tropical glasshouse, he was intrigued to find some trees and plants which were native to Tamil Nadu. He was intrigued by the names of Western guests in the Ashram. One was that of Barry Domegan, a prominent member of the UK Foundation. When they met and Barry introduced himself, Mani asked him to repeat his name, to which Barry replied, “Domegan, as in Tommy Gun!” The next morning when Barry and I were queuing up to go into the dining hall for breakfast Mani came up to us with a big smile and said, “Good morning, Mr.Top Gun!”

Another name which intrigued him was that of my friend Margriet Van Den Dool. He once asked her if that was her real name, to which she replied with a mild if playfully indulgent irritation, “Yes, it is!” I in turn mentioned an Indian name which intrigued me. ‘Shivaramakrishna’. “Ah”, said Mani, “That’s because his parents thought the best thing they could give him was fully comprehensive insurance!”

During their trip to Europe, it was suggested that Mani Anna and Ramani stay with me. I was teaching some classes at an American University in Geneva in those days, but the time they were coming was vacation and I was free. Mani Anna and Ramani Manni were to stay several days at my apartment in a picturesque village at 900 meters in the foothills of the Jura with a view of Lac Leman and the Mount Blanc, the highest mountain in Europe. Unfortunately, when I took them on a boat trip across the Lac Leman to the French side, Ramani slipped and fell, injuring her back. By Sri Bhagavan’s grace, one of the best private clinics in Europe was close to my apartment where she was fully examined. They fitted her with a brace, told her that she had to stay put for some days, wear the brace, and then they would examine her again as Mani Anna had told them that they were planning a heavy schedule of travels. Thankfully surgery was not needed. Both the orthopaedic surgeon and the doctor who did one of the scans told me in private that the pain must be very great, and neither one of them could understand how she could be so cheerful, and give no hint of the pain she was feeling. Both she and Mani Anna were cheerful and enthusiastic despite all that had happened. It was an illustration of total surrender to Sri Bhagavan. I could see how the doctors were impressed by the calm, friendly demeanour they both maintained, and so was I. Later the orthopaedic surgeon wanted to see Ramani Mani at his office in Geneva facing the lake. During that consultation Mani Anna struck up a friendly conversation with him and in reply to his questions, Mani Anna told him they had come from Sri Ramanasramam in South India. He even presented the surgeon with some stationary from Shantimalai that he was carrying. When we were getting ready to leave, the doctor insisted on making that visit complementary. Despite the fact that some people were encouraging Mani Anna to get treatment somewhere else, he assured me that both he and Ramani Manni felt good with the orthopaedic surgeon, the clinic and being in my apartment so they stayed with me for ten days. It was really a blessing and a teaching for me. First of all, as with most people in the West, apart from the very wealthy ones, I didn’t have servants. I didn’t even have a housekeeper, and that didn’t faze either one of them. Mani Anna and I would cut vegetables and then Ramani Manni would give instructions on how to prepare them or would cook them herself while sitting on a stool in the kitchen. One day while I was running the washing machine in the laundry room, Mani Anna came in and washed out a few of Ramani Mani’s salwars and dupattas by hand because he was afraid the colour might run in the machine. He insisted on doing it himself, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

At any rate they both made me feel so comfortable that I tended to forget who they were. But didn’t Bhagavan also have that simplicity and humility, treating common village folks the same and perhaps even with more care than visiting VIPs and learned pundits.

In 2002, Prof. Yanagida (the past president of Nippon Ramana Kendra) invited Mani-san to Japan. The professor asked me to host them during their seven-day stay in Japan following their tour of Europe and America.

Ramana devotees were eager to receive them and in Osaka, they received a warm welcome. We took them to Kyoto for two days where one elderly lady devotee invited them to stay in her traditional Japanese home. The courtesies and gestures that passed between this elderly lady and Mani-san were so beautiful if not somewhat amusing. She regularly greeted Mani Anna and Ramani-san with the traditional Japanese standing bow. Mani-san imitated her perfectly. Each time they saw each other, there was this sacred exchange of traditional Japanese bows, and we all laughed joyously.

Japanese houses generally have deep soaking bathtubs which can accommodate more than one person. Also it should be mentioned that bathing in Japan is often done communally at the local public bath. Since Ramani-san had just injured her back while in Switzerland, she was in pain and had difficulty moving about, I thought it best they bathe together. Then Mani-san would be in a position to take care of her in her fragile condition. But after suggesting this, I thought to myself, “Wait a minute, they are Brahmins. You can never do anything like that in India. Oh, my gosh!” But they never showed any hesitation or resistance to my suggestion and were very pleased to participate in this innocent Japanese custom of bathing together.

Every evening, I would see Mani and Ramani go home together, and would feel a sense of delight at their mutual joy in each other’s company. He had great respect for all of us as frequent visitors, kept an eagle eye on each one of us, enquired about our families, and worked hard to keep the ashram free of scandal and commerce. He kept his doubts and fears to himself. If he had ideological differences with pilgrims, he asserted his benevolence in a more inclusive way, hiding his personal resentment against our assertion of cultural heterogeneity. What he felt about these differences was never communicated by gaze or sleight of hand. Mani regularly made it a point to introduce strangers to one another, bringing in some connecting history or shared interest.

Manianna was genuinely concerned for the safety, welfare and well-being of devotees. An example to illustrate this is how one early morning in December 1987, when a devotee-family having booked a car to leave for Bangalore were preparing to take leave, Manianna, appeared in the wee hours to intercept them with the news that the Chief Minister, M.G. Ramachandran, had passed away in the night. Mani was nervous that there might be mischief along the road and thus advised them to travel together with another group of devotees going that day to Bangalore. This is just one of the many demonstrations of his solicitude for devotees.

Manianna always attended the morning and evening puja. One day I glanced over to where he was usually sitting. This particular morning, he was still standing because his stool hadn’t arrived in the aftermath of his foot injury. In that moment I saw an elderly man bringing the stool for him. I could see in the man’s face and the way he was approaching Manianna how his heart was so overjoyed to be able to serve Manianna and be the one who could bring comfort to him to sit down. For some reason to view this moment touched my own heart deeply and I felt I needed to share this with Manianna. So, after the arathi I went to his office and told him my observation and how I felt so touched to see the reverence this man felt for Manianna. I loved his response when he said that he himself feels very touched by the love and care he receives from the devotees. I find it so beautiful and precious that he knew how much he was truly loved.

I met Mani-mama at Ramanasramam in 2017 and had the good fortune of spending time with him. My relatives, Sriram Panchu, his mother Meenakshi Mami and Mahalakshmi Mami (Prof.Swaminathan’s daughter) all provided kind introductions to Mani Mama who looked after me and my group of visitors with such care, kindness and impeccable hospitality. Though I hail from Chennai, I am currently residing in Canada as a Buddhist monk in a monastery called Tisarana. My teacher and preceptor, Ajahn Viradhammo had the pleasure of meeting Mani Mama and we were all so inspired by Bhagavan’s teachings that we decided to make the pilgrimage to Tiruvannamalai. That was in 2017 when we had the good fortune of meeting Mani Mama. It is not difficult to imagine the vacuum Mani Mama’s passing would’ve left, both in the family as well as in the ashram. What else can we say to console ourselves but that he lived so well and died so peacefully, that both his life as well as his passing inspire emulation? I remember his calm voice and measured response when I called him to express my condolences on his wife’s passing. His titishka and uparati were inspiring, to say the least. Our entire community here came together and offered funeral chanting on the evening of the 20th of July. We shared merits and dedications that his destination be a peaceful one, ultimately leading to final egress from samsara. We sincerely hope that his life of service and dedication to a cause he certainly considered greater than himself, be a beacon of hope and inspiration for others.

When I first met Mani, he was crawling! He could actually walk, but not very confidently! Since those far-off days he has been a constant presence in the ashram, in Tiruvannamalai, or as a friend. He cared deeply about the ashram and the well-being of those who lived and worked in it. When he gave up his job, he came to be in the ashram full-time. He could be seen at his desk almost every day and knew by name almost everyone who came his way. His circle of friends and acquaintances was enormous. Anyone who needed help could go to him and he would know someone who could oblige. He genuinely cared about people and wanted to help them. At heart he was a kind and caring person. Even to animals! I once watched as he supervised the careful relocation of a poisonous insect from the office steps to a hole in the ground. He would not allow it to be killed.

Mani Anna loved to serve the Ashram. He did not believe in sitting back. He had told my mother, “Mami, one cannot stop working and serving Bhagavan. This we do just as we brush our teeth or comb our hair or have a bath every day.”

This revealed to me that for Manianna, service to Bhagavan was second nature, something very natural. In his own presence Bhagavan had made Mani Anna declare this purpose of life even as a young boy. Enacting a play written by a school teacher in front of Bhagavan, Mani Anna proclaimed, “I will serve Bhagavan’s devotees till my last breath”.

Bhagavan had given a gentle smile of acknowledgement which remained imprinted in Mani Anna’s heart. His daughter Shanti shared how her father had returned to his desk at the Ashram only the previous day before his passing. He had been asked how his day went and answered, “It was complete, absolutely fulfilling.” “Who would use the word ‘fulfilling’ for a normal day at office?” wondered Shanti. But what Mani Anna was referring to was not just that day. It was every moment. It was his whole life. Even in the interview Mani Anna said repeatedly, “No regrets, ma. We have had a good time, ma.”

When my parents visited me in the U.S., they loved to see the redwoods. It was a pilgrimage, and we would go and spend an afternoon with these giants. During the weekdays, the forest is almost deserted and many a time, we would find ourselves quite alone. We would sit and meditate, do parayanam, take a walk and return. They loved being in the presence of these ancient trees that are thousands of years old. It was always the highlight of the trip. During their first visit to the US, we visited New York and stayed at the ashram. Dennis was a gracious host. Along with Dennis, we drove up to Niagara. En route, we spent the night with Jim, Dennis’ brother, and Fran (Jim’s wife) at their home in Franklin, and then stayed with Professor Ram Desai in Buffalo. While my parents proceeded to Toronto to meet with the Shastris, I stayed back with Dennis at his parents’ house in Tonawanda. Everyone we met and spent time with treated us like a member of their family. While the gatherings were simple, the heart connections ran deep. Appa seemed to naturally make this deep heart connection with devotees from all over the world and from all walks of life. When they visited me in California, there was so much warmth and happiness that they shared with the devotees. During the last three trips to California, we always spent a weekend with Joan and Matthew Greenblatt. The meetings were so joyful. They would often reminisce about the early days of Arunachala Ashrama and the Nova Scotia Ashrama and share stories about old devotees.

Mani Anna was once visiting Ramanan in the Bay Area. The three of us went to a regular Saturday Ramana Satsang at Sunita and Karthik’s house that day. Towards the end of the evening Satsang, Sunita asked Mani Anna if he wanted to say something. Mani Anna politely declined with a gracious namaste gesture, and a bright smile. Immediately afterwards I felt - and had the feeling that all who were there shared this - that Mani Anna was indeed ‘communicating’ with us, but by means of the higher eloquence of Silence in Bhagavan’s Presence.

When I think of Mani Maama, what immediately comes to my mind is, “karma yogi”. Maama was the perfect karma yogi, dedicating his entire life to serving the Ashram and Bhagavan’s devotees all over the world. He loved every inch of the Ashram, especially the trees, plants and all the wonderful animals and birds that make Sri Ramanasramam so special — like Panchavati of the Ramayana. Devotees of Bhagavan in the Bay Area were fortunate to get to know Mani Maama personally, since his son, Ramanan lives here. Every time Maama and Maami visited Ramanan, they would attend our weekly satsangs. I know they truly enjoyed these evenings with the devotee community in the Bay Area. At the satsangs, Maama would always sit at the back, unassuming and humble. Whenever he met devotees from the Bay Area at the Ashram, he would connect them with me, requesting me to add them to our mailing list. Many have joined our group through an introduction from Mani Maama. He was a great connector of devotees, whether we were visiting Madurai, Tiruchuzhi or Bali, he was ready with his Rolodex, quickly bringing devotees together.

It was early in the year 1988. There was an aspiration to reforest Arunachala - then still predominantly brown and barren of trees - shared by a handful of devotees. The Annamalai Reforestation Society would be formally registered as an NGO just a few months later. It was a seemingly hopeless endeavour. It goes without saying that Mani Anna’s keen interest and enthusiastic encouragement in the project also translated into invaluable support in very practical ways. For many years, the area around the back gate of the ashram was a plant nursery and staging ground for ARS tree plantation operations on the hill during the rainy months. Within the ashram premises, Mani Anna loved his trees, affectionately calling them his “silent and undemanding friends”. He visited all of them regularly on his afternoon rounds, and the ashram is today a veritable botanical garden as a result of his quiet passion. By way of living memory, one need only look up to Arunachala and see, by Bhagavan’s grace, a mountain that is green.

Some years ago, Mani Anna and I had gone up the hill a few times together in connection with the banyan tree planting in 2017. So far as I can remember, we never went up as far as Skandasramam. But a few months after Mani Anna’s sudden departure in July this year, I had a very vivid dream of he and I standing outside Skandasramam under the open sky. As we talked, I was overwhelmed by the vividness of his presence, how clear and bright he was, how much light he shone, and yet, it was not greater than what he showed during his lifetime. It is just that I had not fully appreciated it before. He began to list off mistakes he said he had made in the course of his life. He said there were ‘three sets of five mistakes’ he had committed. When I heard the contents of his confession, I began to weep. Though his testimony was genuine, I knew deep down that he was not guilty of these mistakes. Rather, they were my own faults, though he may not have known this. I woke from the dream stunned and bewildered because in his delicate and tender way, he had shown me where I was falling short in my life currently. He had shown me this without pointing any fingers, presenting these shortcomings as though they were his own. I recalled how Mani Anna had the most delicate and non-insistent way of pointing out our short-comings. I felt this was all Bhagavan who had shown me something through this loyal devotee who came to me in sleep to give me the clues I was missing in respect of how I was conducting my life.

In 2009 I fell gravely ill. As no local treatment seemed to be of any use, my fate was uncertain. I refused further treatment and entrusted myself to Bhagavan’s care. But Mani Anna sent for a specialist and insisted that I get properly treated. By this intervention, my health was restored. I am ever grateful for his resolute kindness.

I lost my father this year, so I am with the personal loss of a father and at the same time the Truth of the absorption in Arunachala Siva. I am grieving the loss of Manianna, as I know his spirit has returned to the totality of Bhagavan. I know we are not the body and at the same time we miss the beloved people we care about.

I was blessed to have one of the very last interactions with Mani Anna in his earthly walk. It happened in a WhatsApp voice message and concerned two pending Ashram projects. The first was the fixture of non- reflective glass on both the Old Hall image of Bhagavan and on the glass door of Bhagavna’s Nirvana room which he was keenly following up with Dr. Perumal, the Tanjavoor Archive consultant. Even though he didn’t see the completion physically as per his wish, through voice message, he was happy to learn that they had come out well. The second related to the new cloth curtain used at puja time in the Mother’s shrine. The temple priest had suggested that the centre design be the Sri Chakra yantra design. Mani Anna was not in favour of the holy Sri Chakra being depicted in cloth on a curtain and instead suggested a kalasam design, like the ones used during Mahanyasam with green leaves and coconut in the middle. After his departure, I thought to myself, ‘Oh! What a way to end one’s earthly journey, namely, dedicated to serving Sri Bhagavan till the very end with these holy symbols in mind.

I last saw Manianna on Saturday, 25th June. He had just come out of the small gate on the rear side of samadhi hall and going towards Korangu Thottam. I was going to Old Hall from Korangu Thottam side. When I looked at him from a distance, I saw him beaming with a smile. It was not just his warm welcoming smile, known to devotees. I thought he looked unusually happy.

In the 27 or 28 years I knew Manianna, he always maintained a radiant distance from devotees. He was visible, never oppressive or autocratic, but clear headed and very cool in temperament. I think he received the love of thousands of us without embarrassment or repudiation. The fealty of the workers, dozens of them, who spent their meagre earnings on extravagant flower garlands for his wake, is the epitaph for a man who dedicated his life to the competent and peaceful running of the Ashram by the powers vested in him.

I live just a couple of doors down from Mangala Nivas and so rushed to the house the moment Vasantha, the housekeeper, called me saying Anna had fallen down unconscious. I found Manianna’s body and face terribly swollen. The moment I saw him, I could palpably feel that he was with Bhagavan. I sat with his head in my lap, his face radiant. Bhagavan’s presence was tremendous, immense. What more do we want? At that moment, I did not even cry, blessed as I was in this current of Sri Ramana Divine.

As recounted by many devotes, Chittappa was a kind, thoughtful, resourceful, and very practical man. For the past 37 years, his constant, gentle presence provided a rocklike foundation and stability for the Ashram. My father sometimes pointed out Chitappa’s capacities, for example, he was once very impressed by an incident where Chitappa came up with a solution that had stumped everyone else. In the office, they were trying to come up with a caption for an article for two photos of Bhagavan, one which was the famous 21-year-old Bhagavan. Chitappa just walked in and gave the words on the spot which were accepted and ultimately published in the article: “The Sage of ageless wisdom over different ages”.

Chitappa was a man of few words but full of action. We kids had a good time with our uncle when he used to read us books. I personally, learned a lot of cricket from him.

Chitappa had fond memories of his own childhood growing up in the Ashram under Sri Bhagavan’s watchful gaze which shaped the destiny of his life. His transition to Ashram service of 37 years in 1985 is itself an amazing story of Bhagavan’s grace. What sometimes appears as a devastating personal event in one’s life over time turns out to be the most joyful life-changing experience, proof of the guru’s grace.

Around 1983, Mani Chitappa developed recurring episodes of colitis which, going to several doctors, appeared to be untreatable. Thus, he transitioned from the life of a corporate executive in Bombay to Ashram life in Tiruvannamalai with a young family. Needless to say, within a few months, the colitis which had seemed life-threatening at one stage, was totally cured. Mani Chitappa used this rebirth in Bhagavan to serve the Ashram with renewed vigour on a daily basis.

Devotees have told stories of his personal touch and how they were helped by Chitappa in their personal problems within the Ashram and away from the Ashram. Following his departure, I received letters and emails every day where even in the final week of his life, devotees told how he was in touch by phone or through WhatsApp, sending encouraging messages.

His was a constant presence in the Ashram. We will all miss Mani Chitappa’s physical guidance along with that of Appa. One devotee commented, “Chitappa has merged in Bhagavan feet a very contented man, a proud father and an even prouder grandfather”.

A day before he left the body, he had gone to the ashram and spent the morning there. He hadn’t been to the ashram a few days prior to that. During our daily telephone conversation, he shared that his visit to the ashram that morning was extremely heart-warming and satisfying. He told me, Ramanan, rumba triptiyaa irundadu. ('Ramanan, it was very fulfilling') I could feel it in his voice, it was full of love and compassion.

The ever-green magadam plant that Manianna wished me to have in our garden has grown into a big tree and produces beautiful flowers in summer with a divine fragrance. This last summer, I thought I should tell him how tall it has grown but unfortunately that day never came. However, the tree with its divine fragrance, Manianna’s kindness and the last beaming smile on that day in Korangu Thottam remain etched in my memory.