At Dahiya, Ram Surat Kunwar learned that he had been transferred with a promotion as Headmaster to Naraipur High School. He reported for duty, only to find the school in a deplorable condition.

Deeply concerned about the welfare of the students, he submitted several proposals to the managing committee, recommending basic facilities and improvements to restore standards. When his appeals were ignored, Ram Surat Kunwar took a firm stand and exercised his authority to close the school until the required amenities were provided.

The managing committee had no choice but to comply. This episode reflected a lifelong trait—he never compromised on principles. Within a few months, he was transferred again, this time to Navalgad High School, where he joined on 6 December 1948. He rented a small but comfortable house and brought his wife and children to live with him.

The memories of Tiruvannamalai remained vivid within him. His longing to return to Arunachala and to receive the grace of Ramana Maharishi grew stronger by the day.

To prepare himself inwardly and physically, he adopted an austere diet of raw milk and fruits, especially bananas. His wife Ram Ranjini Devi protested, but he gently persisted. Occasionally, she managed to give him raw bottle gourd mixed with milk and sugar. He abstained from cooked food, salt, and chilies for nearly five years. When friends questioned him, he replied simply that he was purifying and divinizing his body.

Between 1948 and 1952, Ram Surat Kunwar immersed himself in the study of sacred texts and the works of great masters—Swami Ram Tirtha, Swami Vivekananda, Ramana Maharishi, Sri Aurobindo, and Adi Shankara. Their teachings transformed him profoundly.

He embodied an ideal balance—an able teacher, a principled administrator, a loving husband and father, a dutiful son and brother, a loyal friend, and a dedicated sadhaka. His faith in God and the masters was unshakeable, and he never sought material gain or comfort from spirituality.

At home, his simplicity and inner freedom were evident. When his wife expressed a desire to visit a temple, he would gently ask her purpose. If she replied that she wished to see God, he would say with seriousness mixed with playfulness, “If you truly wish to see God, see me—see your God in me.” She would laugh and persist, and he would accompany her to the temple entrance, remaining outside with the children while she performed rituals.

He adored his children. On returning from school, he would lift them joyfully in his arms. When his wife cautioned him about soiling his clothes, he would reply, “These children are my Gods—my Rama and my Krishna. How can my Gods make me impure?”

He taught them to write the word “Rama” even before learning alphabets. He never spoke harshly to anyone, addressing even children, animals, and birds with dignity and affection.

His son Amitabh Kunwar later recalled an incident from Navalgad. After discarding a hard piece of sugarcane onto the road, Amitabh was asked by his father to check if it had struck anyone. When Amitabh returned saying no one was there, his father asked him to retrieve the piece and reflect on how painful it could have been if it had hit someone. The lesson of mindfulness and compassion remained etched in the child’s heart.

On another occasion at Nardara, Ram Surat Kunwar took Amitabh to the Ganga and asked him to observe the beauty of the fish. He then asked his son to promise three things: never to eat fish, never to lie, and never to ask anything from anyone other than God.