Parthasarathy was the fourth son in a family of six sons and two daughters. He was the principal breadwinner of the family and was held in high regard among his relatives. A successful businessman, he lived in Gudiyattam, a small town in northern Tamil Nadu.

In 1971, Parthasarathy entered into an arranged marriage with Rathika, the daughter of a wealthy businessman from Madurai in southern Tamil Nadu. However, within a short period after the marriage, Parthasarathy became deeply disillusioned with his wife. While Parthasarathy was imaginative, intellectually inclined, and full of concepts about life, Rathika was a simple, gentle woman. This fundamental difference soon created a psychological aversion in Parthasarathy’s mind.

Gradually, his inner dissatisfaction began to surface openly. He expressed his displeasure through rude and insensitive behaviour towards Rathika. She was shocked and deeply wounded. All her dreams of a harmonious married life were shattered, and she was left in intense emotional pain.

Parthasarathy soon developed the desire to marry another woman of his own choice in Gudiyattam. To facilitate this, he decided to divorce Rathika. He openly conveyed his intention to her and even sought her cooperation for a mutual divorce. Rathika was devastated. Unable to bear the shock, she broke down, crying and pleading with Parthasarathy not to abandon her.

But Parthasarathy was deeply trapped in his own imagination and self-centered desires. His personal concepts and ambitions had become paramount, and he was indifferent to the suffering of others. His determination to fulfil his desires blinded him to Rathika’s pain.

The issue soon escalated and reached the wider family circle. It eventually came to the attention of Sri S. P. Janardhanan, Rathika’s elder sister’s husband, who was residing in Bangalore. Shocked by the situation, Janardhanan attempted to reason with Parthasarathy, but Parthasarathy refused to listen.

Left with no alternative, Janardhanan sought the guidance of Sri Rajamanicka Nadar, the husband of Parthasarathy’s maternal aunt and a devoted follower of Yogi Ramsuratkumar. Rajamanicka Nadar advised Janardhanan to take Rathika and her parents to Tiruvannamalai to seek Yogi’s intervention. He assured them that Rathika’s problems would be resolved once Yogi intervened.

Accordingly, in 1975, Janardhanan took his wife Vijaya, her sister Rathika, and Rathika’s parents to Tiruvannamalai to meet Yogi Ramsuratkumar. They met Yogi beneath the punnai tree behind the Tiruvannamalai Railway Station. Janardhanan narrated the entire situation involving Parthasarathy. Yogi listened patiently and silently, without interruption. Rathika sat nearby, sobbing quietly.

In Yogi’s presence, the entire group felt a renewed sense of hope. Rathika, in particular, believed that Yogi would intervene and transform her husband’s heart.

Unexpectedly, Yogi expressed his wish to see Parthasarathy personally. He instructed Janardhanan to bring Parthasarathy to him. Janardhanan replied that he would make an effort to do so. After a few hours, the group took leave of Yogi and returned to their respective places.

Meanwhile, Parthasarathy found himself unable to focus on his business due to the ongoing marital turmoil. His business began to suffer heavy losses, and he soon faced a severe financial crisis. Desperate to clear his debts, he started approaching people for financial help.

When Janardhanan contacted him to convey Yogi’s desire to meet him, Parthasarathy seized the opportunity to demand money. Janardhanan agreed to help financially—but only on the condition that Parthasarathy accompany him to Tiruvannamalai to meet Yogi.

Parthasarathy was reluctant. He had no faith in saints or spiritual masters. Though he occasionally sang devotional songs and visited temples, he was essentially skeptical and inwardly atheistic. Nevertheless, his worsening financial situation left him with no choice.

By 1976, his financial difficulties had reached a breaking point. Once again, he approached Janardhanan for help. Janardhanan reiterated his condition—that they must first visit Yogi Ramsuratkumar in Tiruvannamalai and act according to Yogi’s guidance. Parthasarathy reluctantly agreed.

He convinced himself that he could easily influence “the old Yogi” and persuade him to recommend that Janardhanan lend him the money.

Unaware of what awaited him, Parthasarathy set out for Tiruvannamalai—a journey that would completely transform his life.

On 27th August 1976, Janardhanan took Parthasarathy to Tiruvannamalai in a taxi to meet Yogi Ramsuratkumar. They reached the town around six in the evening and went directly to the Theradi Mandapam, near the great Arunachaleswarar Temple.

There, Parthasarathy saw an elderly man clad in torn, soiled clothes, seated quietly in the mandapam. Janardhanan immediately prostrated before Yogi, but Parthasarathy hesitated. He had no inclination to bow before what appeared to him as a destitute ascetic. Janardhanan gently insisted that Parthasarathy prostrate, but he remained reluctant.

At that moment, Yogi leaned forward, held Parthasarathy’s hands firmly in both of his own, and drew him closer. Janardhanan introduced Parthasarathy to Yogi. Yogi looked at him with immense love and delight and repeatedly exclaimed, “How did this happen? How compassionate my Father is—to send you here!”

Yogi gazed at Parthasarathy with overflowing affection and joy.

After a while, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to sit before him. He gently enquired, “Is Rathika all right?”

Parthasarathy replied that he did not know, as she was staying with her parents. Yogi then asked how Parthasarathy himself was doing. Parthasarathy candidly admitted that he was facing a severe financial crisis and was in need of money.

Yogi responded calmly, “Make Rathika happy, and my Father will help you.”

Parthasarathy countered immediately, “How can an unhappy man make someone else happy?”

At that time, Parthasarathy preferred conversing in English, believing it gave him an air of sophistication. He was surprised—and secretly impressed—to find that Yogi spoke fluent English. This added to Parthasarathy’s growing fascination with Yogi.

Meanwhile, a few devotees approached Yogi, prostrated before him, and sat down. Yogi enquired about each of them and asked whether he could do anything for them. They replied that they only sought his blessings. Yogi said simply, “My Father blesses you all.”

After some time, the devotees took leave.

Yogi then turned his attention back to Parthasarathy. Suddenly, he began speaking about Buddha. Parthasarathy expressed his disapproval of Buddha, remarking that Buddha had abandoned his wife, parents, newborn son, and kingdom.

“What did he change in the world?” Parthasarathy asked bluntly.

Yogi’s expression turned serious. He asked quietly, “What was the name of Buddha’s mother?”

Parthasarathy replied, “Maya.”

“And the name of his wife?”Yogi asked.

“Yashodhara,” Parthasarathy answered.

“And the name of his son?”Yogi continued.

“Rahul,” Parthasarathy replied.

Yogi then said, “Isn’t it remarkable that you remember the names of people who lived more than two thousand years ago? Most people cannot even recall the names of their ancestors beyond three or four generations. But the names and lives of great beings live on forever.”

He paused and added, “You do not know the power of a name. The very name ‘Buddha’ inspires thousands of people. It can lead one to Divinity. The Buddha is in your heart, in your being.”

A deep silence followed. Yogi seemed to withdraw into another realm altogether. Parthasarathy found the silence strange, powerful, and strangely attractive.

After a long while, Yogi returned to normal awareness and gently resumed the conversation. He again urged Parthasarathy to visit Rathika.

“Rathika is crying, Parthasarathy,”Yogi said softly. “You must go to her. Do not make her cry. Make her happy.”

Feeling emboldened by Yogi’s openness, Parthasarathy revealed that he loved another woman and had promised to marry her. He tried to justify himself by claiming that breaking such a promise would be sinful.

Yogi immediately replied, “Place that sin on this beggar’s head.”

Parthasarathy, still argumentative, pressed further, “This may be acceptable now, Swami. But if I repeat the same thing with another woman in the future, on whose head should I place the sin then?”

Yogi looked at him steadily and remained silent.

The conversation continued at the mandapam until about 10:30 p.m., after which everyone moved to the metal vessel shop, where Yogi usually slept at night. Yogi was energetic and fully alert.

Parthasarathy, anxious about his business troubles, again tried to persuade Yogi to recommend to Janardhanan that he lend him money. Yogi ignored the request and repeated gently that Parthasarathy must make Rathika happy.

Parthasarathy then spoke at length about his generosity during better times—how he had donated to temples and supported charitable causes. Despite all this, he lamented, he was suffering. Yogi listened attentively and even appreciated Parthasarathy’s generosity. Encouraged by this, Parthasarathy once again tried to steer the conversation toward financial assistance.

Yogi’s response remained unchanged. “Rathika has suffered greatly. Make her happy.”

Parthasarathy was puzzled. He had expected either approval or condemnation. Instead, Yogi neither criticised nor commanded him. He listened patiently, remained compassionate, and yet stood firm. All he did was gently but persistently draw Parthasarathy back to Rathika.

After midnight, Yogi asked Parthasarathy and Janardhanan to retire to a nearby lodge. They returned the next morning to meet Yogi again.

That day was Vinayaka Chaturthi. A large crowd had gathered at the mandapam, bringing kozhukattai—the beloved sweet offering to Lord Ganesha. The offerings were placed before Yogi.

Yogi was radiant with joy. Laughing blissfully, he said, “Today, Ganesha will give many sweets to this beggar—and to Parthasarathy!”

After some time, Yogi moved to the area behind the railway station, where he customarily spent the daytime seated beneath the punnai tree. There, he spoke with Parthasarathy as though they had known each other for a long time. His manner was intimate and natural, dissolving any sense of unfamiliarity.

Yogi asked Parthasarathy whether he could sing devotional songs. Parthasarathy replied that his mother had taught him several such songs in his childhood. Yogi was delighted and asked him to sing. Parthasarathy sang a couple of devotional songs with feeling.

After that, Parthasarathy mentioned that he had composed a poem in English. Yogi immediately asked him to recite it. Parthasarathy recited:

A lovely life that of mine

Full of miseries that makes me divine

Never the hell I see again

When I know its life’s chain.

Much more, more I wish to have

As it will take close to His cave

Such I make miseries mild

Hence I can ever smile.

Yogi listened attentively and then asked Parthasarathy to write the poem down on paper. After reading it, Yogi enquired gently whether he could make a few changes. Parthasarathy readily agreed.

Yogi then revised the poem as follows:

A lovely life that of mine

Full of miseries that takes me to divine

Never the hell I see again

When I know its life’s grain.

Much more, more I wish to have

As it will take me to His lap

Such I make miseries mild

Hence I can ever smile.

After completing the corrections, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to read the poem repeatedly and reflect on the changes. Parthasarathy was astonished. What had earlier seemed like an ordinary poem had acquired depth and clarity with just a few subtle touches from Yogi. It was a deeply moving experience for him—especially when Yogi, with a gentle smile, remarked:

“Parthasarathy, you are a poet.”

Yogi then asked him, “Will you write poems on this beggar?”

Parthasarathy immediately agreed.

Parthasarathy felt that Yogi spoke in a language he could understand—simple, direct, and profound. There was something mysterious in Yogi’s presence that steadily drew him inward. Yet, whenever Parthasarathy attempted to bring up the subject of money, Yogi would gently return to the issue of Rathika and ask him to make her happy. This disappointed Parthasarathy, though he could not explain why he still felt drawn to Yogi.

Before they parted, Yogi gave Parthasarathy a framed photograph of himself. On the frame, Yogi wrote Parthasarathy’s name in Hindi with his own hand.

Then Yogi said softly, “This beggar leaves you now, my friend. Do you know this beggar’s name?”

Parthasarathy replied that he did.

Yogi continued, “Remember this beggar’s name.”

Parthasarathy agreed earnestly and then asked when he could come again to see Yogi.

Yogi replied, “You may come with Janardhanan whenever you wish to see this beggar. Otherwise, this beggar may not recognize you.”

Parthasarathy did not wish to come again with Janardhanan. So he replied playfully, “No, Swami. I will come alone next time—and I will make you remember me.”

Yogi laughed heartily. Parthasarathy then prostrated before Yogi—this time willingly and without hesitation. Yogi affectionately patted him on the back.

Janardhanan left for Bangalore by taxi, while Parthasarathy returned to Gudiyatam by bus. After reaching his hometown, Parthasarathy found himself unable to forget Yogi. The entire conversation with him, especially Yogi’s spontaneous and blissful laughter, kept echoing in his ears. His presence lingered vividly in Parthasarathy’s mind.

Suddenly, Parthasarathy remembered Yogi’s gentle request—that he should write a song on him. Sitting quietly for a few moments, words began to flow effortlessly. Within minutes, he composed a song inspired by Yogi.

Barely five days later, Parthasarathy was once again on his way to Tiruvannamalai. A mysterious force seemed to draw him irresistibly towards Yogi. As soon as he arrived, he rushed to the punnai tree, where Yogi was seated with his assistants. The moment Parthasarathy reached him, he prostrated fully. Yogi immediately recognized him.

With visible joy, Yogi welcomed Parthasarathy and made him sit close by his side. He enquired with genuine concern about Parthasarathy’s financial difficulties. Parthasarathy explained his crisis in detail, but Yogi did not respond verbally. Instead, he gently held Parthasarathy’s hand. That simple touch brought immense comfort and reassurance to him.

After a while, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to sing a song. Parthasarathy sang a devotional song, which Yogi listened to attentively and appreciated warmly. Then Parthasarathy informed Yogi that he had written a Tamil song on him. Yogi immediately asked him to sing it.

Although Parthasarathy had not set the song to any tune, he somehow managed to sing it. After listening, Yogi asked him to explain the meaning of the song. Parthasarathy explained it in English as follows:

“A Lover of the Vedas having holy feet, A Mystic of everlasting grace,

Unbiased great devotee of God, Yogi Ramsuratkumar

If one go near Yogi Ramsuratkumar, the Purity in this life and future one

Prevails, and the eternal bliss will gracefully shower,

The evils would be destroyed, Lord Annamalaiyar’s

Grace and help would ever keep one well and protects.

And the compassionate protection of Lord Annamalaiyar"

Yogi listened intently to the explanation. As soon as Parthasarathy finished, Yogi affectionately patted him on the back and exclaimed with delight: “Oh! Oh! If anyone comes near this beggar, Lord Annamalai Himself will protect them! Parthasarathy has written a wonderful song on this beggar!”

Overwhelmed by the attention and affection Yogi showered upon him, Parthasarathy felt a sudden sense of elevation within himself. He began to feel distinct from the other devotees gathered there, sensing that some of them looked on with quiet jealousy as Yogi continued to focus his loving attention on him.

Parthasarathy was running a matchbox business at Gudiyatam. He procured matchboxes directly from manufacturers and sold them in the northern parts of India. In the beginning, the business flourished well.

However, after his deep disappointment in married life and his entanglement in an affair with a young woman, Parthasarathy lost his ability to concentrate on his work. His clarity of thought diminished, and he became careless in handling money. He began spending excessively in an attempt to attract people and maintain appearances. Gradually, this reckless spending led him into a heavy debt trap during the years 1975–76.

He made several attempts to repay the borrowed money, seeking help from many sources, including Janardhanan, but none of these efforts succeeded. Those who had earlier placed great trust in Parthasarathy suddenly began to exert pressure on him for repayment.

Until then, Parthasarathy had managed the situation by telling one lie after another. However, after meeting Yogi Ramsuratkumar, he gained a strange courage. He decided to end the deception and openly told his business associates the truth—that he had no money to repay them.

The creditors were shocked by this revelation. They began enquiring about his family background and soon discovered that Parthasarathy’s father-in-law was a wealthy man. Believing that pressure from the police would force the father-in-law to intervene and settle the debts, they lodged a complaint at the police station. They were unaware that Parthasarathy’s relationship with his father-in-law was already strained.

The police arrested Parthasarathy and took him to the station. The inspector threatened him, saying that if he failed to arrange the money, he would be sent to jail.

In desperation, Parthasarathy contacted Rathika over the phone and pleaded with her to arrange the money. Poor Rathika could only weep helplessly. She was in no position to help him.

Disheartened and exhausted, Parthasarathy finally told the inspector that he was unable to arrange any money. A cheating case was filed against him, and he was produced before the Vellore Judicial Court. The court remanded him to custody, and Parthasarathy was lodged in the Central Jail at Vellore.

Upon hearing the news, Janardhanan came from Bangalore. Instead of attempting to secure Parthasarathy’s release, he chose to exploit the situation. He met the jail superintendent, who was known to him and was also a devotee of Yogi Ramsuratkumar.

Janardhanan requested the superintendent to threaten Parthasarathy with dire consequences if he refused to return to his wife Rathika. Accordingly, the jail superintendent summoned Parthasarathy to his office inside the prison and sternly warned him that if he did not resume living with Rathika, he would face severe consequences. Parthasarathy listened calmly. He neither protested nor argued.

Parthasarathy remained in jail for eighteen days. Eventually, his younger brother Madhusoodhanan came from Vandavasi and secured his release on bail. Although Janardhanan was present in Vellore, he made no effort to obtain bail for Parthasarathy and merely observed events unfold. When he learned through the jail superintendent that Parthasarathy was about to be released, he hurried to the prison.

After his release, Parthasarathy met Janardhanan at the jail gate. His first request was that Janardhanan should take him to Tiruvannamalai to see Yogi Ramsuratkumar. Janardhanan agreed, and together they travelled to Tiruvannamalai.

They found Yogi at the mandapam. It was raining heavily that day, and because of the downpour, Yogi had not gone to the punnai tree.

Yogi received Parthasarathy in an unusual manner. The familiar radiance of bliss was absent. He appeared grave and withdrawn. He did not speak much. Instead, he stared at Parthasarathy continuously. Whenever Parthasarathy looked at him, Yogi would lower his head or turn his gaze elsewhere.

Parthasarathy had several questions troubling his mind, but since many people were seated before Yogi, he began speaking in Hindi so that others would not understand. In a moment of emotional turmoil, he said to Yogi, “I feel that you are the cause of all my problems. I think you are doing some kind of black magic.”

Yogi immediately became intensely serious and replied in English, “Yes. This beggar is the only reason for all that is happening in your life, in everyone’s life—why in the whole universe. He is One without second and the only reason for all happenings in the whole universe.”

The force and authority behind these words stunned Parthasarathy. He was overwhelmed by the spiritual energy of the moment. Tears welled up in his eyes. Yogi then asked him to come closer and gently patted him. Parthasarathy broke down and began to cry.

Yogi consoled him, saying that even Sri Aurobindo had been imprisoned and that it was in prison that he realised God. Aurobindo had seen Krishna everywhere while confined in jail. Yogi reassured Parthasarathy gently:

“My Father wanted you to pass through these experiences. Whatever happens, happens by the will of my Father. Nothing is wrong, Parthasarathy. Everything is perfectly all right.”

Yogi then urged Parthasarathy to go with Janardhanan, much against Parthasarathy’s own wishes. Janardhanan too was reluctant to take him home, fearing that creditors would demand money from him. Instead, he decided that they should go to Madras to meet Gnanagiri Ganeshan, who had then started a paper mill in Pondicherry, and Rajamanicka Nadar, his father’s co-brother.

After obtaining Yogi’s permission, they proceeded to Madras and stayed in a hotel. Their first visit was to Ganeshan. Ganeshan spoke to Parthasarathy at length, quoting scriptures and engaging in lofty philosophical discourse. None of it made sense to Parthasarathy in his broken condition.

He was hungry, exhausted, and emotionally shattered. All he longed for was a simple meal and a few comforting words. The clothes he had been wearing for nearly twenty days were filthy and foul-smelling. He wore no footwear. Never in his life had Parthasarathy found himself in such a state of utter helplessness.

The next day, Janardhanan took Parthasarathy to a ready-made garments shop and bought him a set of clothes. Rajamanicka Nadar’s elder son and Janardhanan then took Parthasarathy to a five-star hotel, where they all ate together. That day, there was heavy rainfall.

Janardhanan soon became weary of the entire situation. Nearly a week had passed since he had left Bangalore, and he was anxious to return to his work. He had responsibilities waiting for him at his office and neither the time nor the inclination to console Parthasarathy. In his mind, he believed that Parthasarathy was suffering as a result of his own wrong actions.

Janardhanan even declared openly that Parthasarathy had disobeyed Yogi and that Yogi himself had therefore given him punishment. These thoughts and words deeply hurt Parthasarathy and provoked him inwardly. He felt an intense urge to distance himself from all known relatives and acquaintances.

Janardhanan did not have sufficient money to settle the lodge bill. He instructed Parthasarathy to approach Ganeshan for help and then left for Bangalore. Parthasarathy went to Ganeshan and explained the situation. Ganeshan immediately sent his manager, who settled the hotel bill.

At that point, Parthasarathy did not expect money or grand assistance. All he longed for was a loving and understanding gesture from his friends and relatives—something that would assure him at least a hunger-free existence. Instead, what he received were only advice, instructions, and moral judgments. In the end, he was left completely alone on the streets of Madras.

Parthasarathy did not know where to go or what to do. He did not wish to return to his parents, who were themselves facing financial struggles, and he did not want to become an additional burden on them.

He had no money at all. Finally, he went to stay with an old friend. At night, he stayed at the friend’s house, and during the daytime he spent long hours at the Madras beach, writing songs on Yogi Ramsuratkumar. Later, many of these songs became popular among devotees, as Yogi himself liked them very much.

Meanwhile, the young woman whom Parthasarathy had loved came to know about his plight. She decided to completely withdraw from him. Her parents arranged her marriage elsewhere.

Parthasarathy heard about this and desperately wanted to meet her one last time to stop the marriage. But with an empty wallet and no means to travel, he could not do so. He was in Madras, and the girl lived in a distant town.

After meeting Yogi, it was strange that, for one reason or another, Parthasarathy could not meet her even once. Later, Yogi explained to him that when Father wants something to happen, He creates a situation in such a way that events unfold inevitably in their own course.

Parthasarathy communicated almost every significant event in his life to Yogi—either through letters or during personal meetings. With deep anguish, he wrote to Yogi about the girl’s marriage. A few days after the wedding, he managed to come to Tiruvannamalai. He met Yogi under the punnai tree and poured out his heart. Yogi listened patiently, consoled him with gentle words, and infused him with strength to bear the loss.

Yogi spoke to him about Kunti from the Mahabharata—how she prayed to Lord Krishna for more difficulties in every birth so that she might remember Him constantly.

During this crisis, Yogi was the only person who spent time with Parthasarathy, showering him with compassion, concern, and love. Everyone else avoided Parthasarathy, fearing that he might ask them for money.

Yogi, on the other hand, always welcomed him warmly and spent long hours with him whenever he visited. Without being asked, Yogi would offer him money when necessary and would personally see that he was fed.

Yet, Yogi did not allow Parthasarathy to stay with him permanently. Therefore, Parthasarathy continued to live in Madras. Whenever life became unbearable and whenever he managed to gather enough money, he would come to Tiruvannamalai, spend time with Yogi, and return re-energized.

After some time, Parthasarathy could no longer endure the pressures of daily survival and the emotional loss of the woman he loved. Suicidal thoughts began to arise in his mind.

On 8th January 1977, he left Madras and went to Tiruvannamalai with this inner turmoil. He went first to the mandapam to see Yogi, but Yogi was not there. He was told that Yogi was staying at a chathiram along with Dr. T. P. Meenakshisundaram, the first Vice-Chancellor of Madurai University.

Parthasarathy went there and knocked on the door. Yogi himself opened it, and a young girl came along Yogi. He took Parthasarathy inside and made him sit close to him.

Yogi asked Parthasarathy to sing a song. Parthasarathy replied that he was not well. Yogi then asked one of the women present to serve food to Parthasarathy, but he refused, again saying that he was unwell. Yogi gently held his hand. Then Yogi asked one of the ladies to perform Bharatanatyam.

Seeing Yogi enjoying the dance while he himself was drowning in pain, Parthasarathy suddenly felt irritated. He stood up abruptly. Yogi asked him what had happened. Parthasarathy said firmly that he wanted to leave.

“Can you stay for a little more time with this beggar?” Yogi asked. But Parthasarathy replied again firmly “No Swami, I need to go.”

Yogi calmly replied, “Alright. My Father will be with you. You may go now.”

Parthasarathy left Yogi and returned to his room in the lodge. There, in deep anguish, he wrote a two-page letter addressed to Yogi.

In the letter he wrote that everyone in his life had deserted him. He had gone to Yogi seeking solace, and even Yogi, he felt, had abandoned him. He wrote that he had lost everything, life had no meaning anymore, and therefore he had decided to end his life. He clearly stated that no one was responsible for his decision.

After completing the letter, Parthasarathy consumed a pesticide with the intention of killing himself. Fear and anxiety gripped him. He left the door of his lodge room open and lay down on the bed. After that moment, he lost all awareness.

The next thing he became conscious of was the scorching rays of the morning sun falling directly on his face through the east-facing window of the room. He got up from the bed. To his astonishment, he felt no ill effects from the poison he had consumed. There was no pain, no sickness, and no weakness.

Instead of relief, Parthasarathy felt intense anger—anger directed towards Yogi. He felt that Yogi was playing some mysterious game with him, neither allowing him to die nor allowing him to live the life of his choice. Overwhelmed with fury, he immediately left the lodge and rushed to see Yogi.

Parthasarathy found Yogi seated under the punnai tree. The moment Yogi saw Parthasarathy approaching him with visible agitation, Yogi got up, walked towards Parthasarathy even faster, and caught hold of both his hands. Pointing towards the top of the holy hill, Yogi thundered,

“Go to the top of the hill and jump from there. Let us see whether you die or not!”

Then Yogi roared again with divine authority,

“You don’t know that you are under the protection of this beggar!”

Parthasarathy stood stunned. He was overwhelmed, shaken, and awestruck. How could Yogi know about his suicide attempt? Only then did Parthasarathy realize that he was standing before a great soul—one who could see beyond time, space, and causation. Words failed him. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.

Yogi gently took Parthasarathy by the hand and led him back to the place where he had been sitting earlier beneath the punnai tree. Yogi continued to hold his hand for a long time. Around them, devotees were chanting Yogi’s name.

Yogi asked Perumal to bring coffee for everyone. Yogi drank a little coffee from his dry coconut shell and then asked Parthasarathy to drink the remaining coffee from the same shell.

Throughout this time, Yogi held Parthasarathy’s hand but did not speak a word to him.

That night, Yogi did not allow Parthasarathy to return to the lodge. He took him along and made him stay with him in the corridor of the vessel shop, where Yogi slept at night.

The next day, Murugeshan arrived from Tuticorin with his family to see Yogi. Soon after, another devotee from Sivakasi, Sivasankaran, came with his family. They all spent time with Yogi and stayed at the Sivakasi Nadar Chatram.

From that time onwards, Yogi took Parthasarathy with him wherever he went and allowed him to go to the lodge only to bathe and change clothes. Most of the time, Yogi insisted that Parthasarathy stay close to him.

Yogi would occasionally ask Parthasarathy what time it was. Each time, Parthasarathy was astonished to realize that hours had passed without his being aware of time at all. Slowly, he began to understand that where there is love, there is no time. It was Yogi’s love and grace that sustained and protected him.

Parthasarathy realized that only God could love in the way Yogi loved. Yogi’s love had the power to bring people back onto the right path—the path that ultimately leads to God. Life, Parthasarathy understood, has its own laws. These laws are natural and irrevocable; they are God’s laws.

Holy beings like Yogi reveal these laws to the world. When a person refuses to live according to these laws, unbearable pain and suffering enter life. These pains force one back onto the right path and awaken one to God’s compassion and grace.

To convey this truth, Yogi often said:

“God tortures. God kills. Because He loves.”

Parthasarathy reflected deeply that when he had first met Yogi, he was ignorant. Whatever little understanding he now possessed had come solely through his association with Yogi.

On January 22, 1977, Parthasarathy had to go to Vellore to appear in court. (The case dragged on for several years and was finally dismissed in 1980 after many adjournments.) Yogi gave him some money for the journey.

However, the amount was insufficient to clear the accumulated lodge rent. Therefore, Parthasarathy went straight to Vellore for the court hearing and then proceeded to Madras without even collecting his belongings from the lodge. He was left without extra clothes.

Parthasarathy continued to visit Tiruvannamalai periodically to see Yogi. After the suicide attempt, Yogi instructed him to stay at the Sivakasi Nadar Chatram.

For nearly two years thereafter, Yogi spoke very little to him. Occasionally, Yogi would ask in brief words whether he had written any new songs.

When Parthasarathy sat before Yogi along with other devotees, Yogi would lovingly ask each person how he could help them—but he would deliberately skip Parthasarathy and move on to the next person.

Parthasarathy longed to speak, to share his struggles and inner state, but he never received the opportunity.

This silence itself became Yogi’s teaching. During that period, Yogi would often say:

“Whatever happens, happens by the will of my Father. So, nothing is wrong in this world. Everything is perfectly all right. My Father alone is the doer, and my Father cannot commit any mistake. So everything is perfectly all right.”

Hearing these words, Parthasarathy was deeply puzzled. His own life was in utter disarray, and wherever he looked he saw only chaos, confusion, conflict, and suffering. How, then, could Yogi declare that everything was perfectly all right? Since Yogi had stopped speaking directly to him, Parthasarathy did not have the courage to voice his doubts.

One day, quite unexpectedly, Yogi asked Parthasarathy about his youngest brother, Sankaranarayanan. Parthasarathy replied that his brother was studying medicine at Madurai Medical College. Yogi suggested that Parthasarathy visit him in Madurai.

Accordingly, Parthasarathy went to Madurai General Hospital to meet his brother. While they were talking, Parthasarathy suddenly felt an urge to see the anatomy section of the hospital. He requested his brother to take him there.

In a large hall, he saw several preserved dead bodies on which medical students were working. One body lay on a cement platform with the abdomen opened, appearing congested and disordered. Parthasarathy asked his brother why it looked so chaotic.

His brother replied calmly, “What you are seeing is perfectly in order. If even a small part were displaced, you would experience unbearable pain—then alone there would be disorder.”

Parthasarathy was thrilled. In that instant, he grasped the meaning of Yogi’s words. What appeared as disorder on the surface was, in fact, perfect order at a deeper level.

By this time, Parthasarathy had been surviving by begging for money from friends and acquaintances. Yogi asked him to read Papa Ramdas’s book In Quest of God, which helped him overcome the shame associated with begging.

Parthasarathy could not bring himself to return to his parents, whose financial condition was already strained. He hoped to persuade his wife to accompany him, thinking he might obtain some money through her to start a new business. However, Yogi explicitly instructed Rathika not to go with him. Instead, Yogi advised her to remember his name constantly and to perform tulasi puja.

After Parthasarathy’s suicide attempt, Yogi stopped speaking directly to him. During those days, Parthasarathy would stay for long periods either in the corridor of the vessel shop or at the Sannathi Street house. Yogi would communicate with him only indirectly—asking others to tell Parthasarathy to sing a song or to bring coffee from the Udupi hotel. When the two were alone, Yogi would simply say, as if to no one in particular, “Sing this beggar’s name.”

Parthasarathy yearned for Yogi’s love to be openly acknowledged. Whenever Yogi appeared to ignore him, the pain was unbearable. In response, Parthasarathy would sing more songs. Yet whenever he looked at Yogi, Yogi would turn his face away.

In 1979, Parthasarathy told Yogi that he wanted to work and asked whether Yogi could request Janardhanan to give him a job. Yogi declined, but added that if Janardhanan offered employment on his own, it would be acceptable. After spending a few days with Yogi, Parthasarathy went to Bangalore to explore job opportunities.

In Bangalore, Janardhanan was willing to employ him but insisted on first obtaining Yogi’s permission. He went to Tiruvannamalai and placed the matter before Yogi.

Yogi instructed Janardhanan to seek the consent of his brothers and parent before appointing Parthasarathy. Janardhanan complied, and once approval was granted, Parthasarathy was employed in the Bangalore office.

Janardhanan provided Parthasarathy with a small staff quarters on the ground floor, while he lived upstairs. Parthasarathy was in such dire need that he even had to ask for money to buy an extra set of clothes.

During this period, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to read all six volumes of Swami Ram Tirtha’s In the Woods of God Realisation and J. Krishnamurti’s Notebook. Earlier, in 1977, Yogi had recommended the works of Papa Ramdas, J. Krishnamurti, and Rajneesh.

Parthasarathy had no money to buy books then. Remarkably, Janardhanan—out of his own love for books—purchased every book prescribed by Yogi and lent them to Parthasarathy. Parthasarathy could not understand how everything unfolded so effortlessly.

A profound transformation took place within him as he absorbed the teachings of these great souls. Swami Ram Tirtha’s declaration—“God cannot exist without you”—filled him with strength and clarity, and through this, Yogi silently revealed to him the deeper meaning of God.

During this time, Parthasarathy composed many songs on Yogi, infused with the wisdom of these saints. These songs later became widely known and loved among Yogi’s devotees.

Within six months of joining Janardhanan’s office, misunderstandings arose due to the interference of one of Janardhanan’s brothers. Parthasarathy felt that he could no longer live under Janardhanan’s control. When he expressed his wish to leave, Janardhanan asked him to consult Yogi.

Parthasarathy went to Tiruvannamalai and conveyed his predicament to Yogi. Yogi asked him, “If you have already decided to leave, why have you come to this beggar?”

Parthasarathy replied that although he wished to stay in Bangalore under Janardhanan’s care, the atmosphere had become unbearable. Yogi paused for a while and then asked whether Parthasarathy could stay with him for a few days. Parthasarathy agreed.

For the next three weeks, Parthasarathy remained with Yogi. For ten days, he spent the entire daytime with him, and during the remaining days he stayed with Yogi throughout the night.

During the day, Parthasarathy performed whatever tasks Yogi assigned—bringing food from hotels, singing songs, attending to small errands. At night, Yogi instructed him to sing Yogi’s name continuously. Parthasarathy chanted without interruption throughout the night.

One night, well past midnight, Yogi suddenly rose from his bed and sat facing Parthasarathy. Parthasarathy stopped chanting and gazed at Yogi’s feet. The atmosphere became intensely charged with an indescribable stillness.

Yogi said “Repeat what is beggar says”. Then, with immense gravity and concentrated power, Yogi uttered the name, “Yogi Ramsuratkumar.” Parthasarathy repeated the name in the same tone. Yogi uttered it again, and again Parthasarathy followed. Three times this was done.

From that moment, the name “Yogi Ramsuratkumar” became inseparable from Parthasarathy’s being. He was never the same again. That was the moment of a powerful and irreversible initiation.

The following day, Parthasarathy experienced an extraordinary peace and bliss permeating his entire being. He felt neither hunger nor thirst. For several days, he ate only if Yogi personally offered food; otherwise, he could not eat, yet his body showed no weakness. Instead, he felt an abundance of energy vibrating with deep peace.

When Yogi later asked how he was feeling, Parthasarathy replied, “I feel as though I do not exist—as if I am dead.”

Yogi smiled and said, “Oh, you were in meditation.”

During that period, one night Yogi asked Parthasarathy to remind him that he had to attend a marriage early the next morning at five o’clock. As usual, Parthasarathy spent the entire night chanting Yogi’s Name. Around four o’clock in the morning, Yogi rose suddenly, eager to prepare himself for the marriage.

Although Yogi never bothered about his own or Parthasarathy’s morning ablutions, he felt the need to change his clothes, as they were extremely dirty. From a heap of bundles offered by devotees and kept in one corner of the hall, Yogi picked up a parcel and opened it. It contained a dhoti. He changed into it.

He then removed his dirty shirt and opened another parcel, hoping to find a kurta. That, too, turned out to be a dhoti. He opened several parcels one after another, but every single one contained only a dhoti.

Unable to find a kurta, Yogi tried covering his upper body with the loose end of the dhoti and asked Parthasarathy whether it looked presentable. Since it did not look appropriate, Parthasarathy remained silent.

Yogi smiled and said, “Oh, you don’t like it.” He tried again, arranging the dhoti differently, and once more asked Parthasarathy’s opinion. Parthasarathy still did not respond.

Yogi then asked Parthasarathy to pick up a parcel himself and open it. Parthasarathy did so—and this time, by grace, it was a kurta. He handed it to Yogi, who immediately wore it. Clad in the fresh dhoti and kurta, Yogi appeared radiant and entirely white.

Yogi then remarked playfully, “The dress is fine now, but this bad smell…” Saying this, he made a peculiar commanding sound, as though addressing someone unseen. Instantly, the unpleasant odor vanished, and a gentle fragrance of sandalwood began to emanate from his body. Without having taken a bath or even washed his face, Yogi now stood glowing with divine brilliance and a royal dignity.

The King, holding Parthasarathy’s hand, carefully locked the house and began walking toward the kalyana mandapam. The marriage was being conducted at Sivakasi Nadar Chatram, where Parthasarathy usually stayed during his visits to Tiruvannamalai. On this occasion too, Parthasarathy had a room upstairs, while the marriage ceremony was taking place on the ground floor.

The hosts received Yogi with great reverence and requested him to sit near the homa, directly opposite the bridal couple. Yogi sat there, with Parthasarathy beside him, and remained until the completion of the marriage rituals, which lasted over an hour.

After the marriage concluded, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to go to Udupi Brindavan Hotel for breakfast and then return to the mandapam. Parthasarathy followed his instructions and came back after about an hour.

Searching for Yogi, he peeped into the mandapam from the main entrance. Suddenly, he heard Yogi’s loud, joyous laughter from behind. Turning around, he saw Yogi seated in the office room. Yogi laughed and said, “You are looking for this beggar everywhere, but this beggar is right behind you!”

Yogi then asked Parthasarathy which room he was staying in. After being told, both went upstairs. Yogi asked Parthasarathy to remove the mattress from the cot and lie down on the floor. Parthasarathy complied and lay down as well. Both rested for a while.

Around three o’clock in the afternoon, Yogi woke Parthasarathy and asked him to get ready. After locking the room, Parthasarathy walked with Yogi. Holding Parthasarathy’s hand, Yogi led him to a friend’s house on Thiruvoodal Street, near Sivakasi Nadar Chatram. Yogi asked Parthasarathy to wait near the compound gate and went upstairs. After about half an hour, Yogi returned holding a book.

From there, Yogi took Parthasarathy to the temple through the South Gopuram. Parthasarathy was wearing slippers. As Yogi pulled him inside the temple, Parthasarathy instinctively threw his slippers outside.

Yogi then took him to the Sambandha Vinayaka Sannidhi and stood near a pillar. Remembering Yogi’s strict instruction that no one should disturb him inside the temple, Parthasarathy moved away and sat at a distance near the Madappalli, watching Yogi silently.

After some time, Yogi gestured for Parthasarathy to come closer and asked him to sit directly in front of him on the stone floor. The floor was burning hot, and Parthasarathy could sit only for a few minutes before the heat became unbearable. He stood up and approached Yogi, explaining that he had left his slippers outside the temple and wanted to retrieve them.

Yogi calmly asked, “Do you think the slippers will still be there?” Parthasarathy replied that he did not know.

Holding Parthasarathy’s hand, Yogi walked to the South Gopuram entrance. The slippers were gone—someone had taken them. Yogi then instructed Parthasarathy to return to his room, wash himself, buy a new pair of slippers, and then come back to see him.

Parthasarathy hurried to his room and poured cold water over his legs, which were covered with blisters. He then bought a new pair of slippers and went to the Sannathi Street house to meet Yogi.

The moment Yogi saw him, he asked, “Have you bought new slippers?” Parthasarathy replied yes. Yogi then asked how much they cost. Parthasarathy said sixteen rupees. Yogi further enquired about the price of the slippers he had lost. Parthasarathy replied that they had cost forty-five rupees. Yogi asked why he had not bought a new pair of the same value. Parthasarathy remained silent. Yogi smiled gently and said, “Oh, you don’t have enough money. It’s all right.”

Yogi asked where the new slippers were. Parthasarathy said they were in the verandah. Yogi took him there, looked at the slippers, and then brought him back inside. He asked Parthasarathy to sit and chant his Name.

After three weeks, Yogi asked Parthasarathy where he wished to go next. Parthasarathy replied that he wanted to return to Bangalore and work again in Janardhanan’s office. Yogi expressed his approval and joy, gave him money for the journey, and blessed him.

Parthasarathy returned to Bangalore, rejoined Janardhanan’s office, and resumed his work—this time with peace and stability.

Within a few months, Parthasarathy underwent a profound inner transformation. His long-standing hostility toward his wife began to dissolve. He sincerely questioned himself as to why he should hate Rathika at all.

Gradually, he realised that hatred—toward any person or thing—could never lead to peace or joy. While it might not always be possible for human beings to love others, he felt it was certainly inhuman to harbour hatred toward fellow beings.

With this change of heart, Parthasarathy requested Janardhanan to grant him leave for a few days. Janardhanan assumed that Parthasarathy intended to go to Tiruvannamalai to see Yogi and asked how long he planned to stay there. When Parthasarathy instead expressed his desire to go to Madurai to meet Rathika, Janardhanan became uneasy and suspicious of his intentions.

At that time, Parthasarathy spoke almost exclusively about saints and their teachings, deeply influenced by his reading of spiritual books. To many around him, it appeared either that he had lost his mental balance or that he was merely pretending to live a spiritual life. Despite these doubts, Janardhanan sanctioned leave for a few days, and Parthasarathy left for Madurai to meet Rathika.

Parthasarathy behaved unusually during his visit. He spoke openly and freely to everyone, which confused and unsettled the members of his father-in-law’s family. He expressed his wish that Rathika should accompany him to Bangalore so that they could begin a new life together.

Rathika felt thrilled on hearing this, yet she was also frightened. She conveyed this development to her parents, who in turn informed Janardhanan in Bangalore.

Janardhanan immediately telephoned Parthasarathy to assess his true intentions. Still doubtful, he decided that confirmation from Yogi was essential before allowing such a major step.

Janardhanan went to Tiruvannamalai and explained the entire situation to Yogi. Yogi listened patiently and then asked Janardhanan to arrange a separate house in Bangalore for Parthasarathy and Rathika to live together. Though doubts lingered in his heart, Janardhanan returned to Bangalore and arranged a small house for the couple.

Parthasarathy and Rathika moved there and began living together. At this stage, Parthasarathy’s mind was absorbed entirely in thoughts of his Guru. Though he lived with Rathika, their life together was far from a conventional husband-and-wife relationship. His detached behaviour made Rathika anxious and suspicious, and she began to cry frequently.

Janardhanan and his wife were deeply disturbed by this situation and began scolding Parthasarathy. They tried to persuade him to adopt a more worldly way of living. Janardhanan quoted the sayings of saints, and Parthasarathy countered him with quotations of his own. Janardhanan urged him to visit Yogi again to discuss the matter. Parthasarathy retorted sharply that he was not a thief to be policed by Yogi and that the issue should be resolved between himself and Rathika.

After much persuasion, Parthasarathy agreed to accompany Janardhanan to Tiruvannamalai. Janardhanan, his wife Vijaya, Parthasarathy, and Rathika all travelled together and stayed at Sivakasi Nadar Chatram. After resting for a while, they proceeded to the Sannathi Street house to meet Yogi.

Janardhanan knocked at the door, and Yogi himself came out and welcomed them inside. He asked the purpose of their visit. Janardhanan explained the situation and Rathika’s expectations.

Yogi, however, spoke in support of Parthasarathy and narrated the story of the great saint Thiruneelakantha. He explained that Parthasarathy wished to undertake penance for the sake of Yogi’s Father.

At that time, Parthasarathy possessed an intense longing for God-realisation. He believed that solitude and constant remembrance of Yogi’s Name were the only means to attain God. Realisation had become his sole goal; everything else appeared meaningless to him. He lived without fear, anxiety, or attachment to worldly ambitions. The influence of the lives and teachings of saints—especially Swami Ramdas, Swami Ram Tirtha, and J. Krishnamurti—played a decisive role in shaping his inner wholeness.

After reading In the Woods of God-Realisation by Swami Ram Tirtha, Parthasarathy developed an intense desire to dedicate his entire life to God-remembrance. He became indifferent to physical comforts, and a single simple meal a day was sufficient for him.

The Name Yogi Ramsuratkumar became inseparable from his being, vibrating within him effortlessly and continuously. In that state of spiritual intoxication, he felt utterly one with God and dismissed all objections raised by others, even when they arose from genuine concern.

Janardhanan, frustrated, quoted Swami Ram Tirtha, saying that penance could be performed even in a bathroom. Parthasarathy replied sarcastically that he had only a common bathroom, where such penance was impossible.

Yogi supported Parthasarathy’s reasoning and instructed Janardhanan to arrange a separate room where Parthasarathy could practise penance undisturbed. He suggested that Parthasarathy meditate inside the room while Rathika locked it from outside, ensuring that no one disturbed him.

Yogi illustrated this with the story of Parvati, who waited patiently with nectar in her hands while Lord Siva remained absorbed in deep meditation. When Siva emerged from meditation, Parvati would offer the nectar, strengthening him to return once more to deep contemplation.

After advising Janardhanan accordingly, Yogi permitted everyone to depart, and they returned to Bangalore. Out of frustration, Janardhanan did not implement Yogi’s instructions to create a separate room for Parthasarathy’s penance. Parthasarathy remained unconcerned and continued living in the manner that brought him inner bliss.

He worked obediently in the shop, was a good friend to others, listened compassionately to their problems, and remained joyful, unaffected by the critical remarks of his relatives. He felt no anxiety about his future and lived with an unshakable sense of security—as though resting in the lap of Yogi Ramsuratkumar, whom he regarded as his Father.

Whenever others tried to advise him on worldly matters, he would calmly respond that everything was God’s will—God who, for him, was none other than Yogi Ramsuratkumar.

This attitude deeply irritated Janardhanan. Rathika, too, remained unhappy, living in constant fear and uncertainty about the future.

Meanwhile, a deep and intimate friendship blossomed among Sivasankaran, Parthasarathy, and Murugeshji. They decided to undertake a pilgrimage together, beginning with a visit to their Guru, Yogi Ramsuratkumar, at Tiruvannamalai. Janardhanan, however, was unwilling to grant permission for Parthasarathy to join the pilgrimage.

Parthasarathy was a pauper, and Murugeshji was a wealthy industrialist. The friendship between a man of means and one without material security astonished many. Yet Murugeshji remained completely unaffected by such opinions. He loved Parthasarathy sincerely and treated him with dignity, equality, and deep respect. This bond arose entirely due to Yogi’s special closeness to Parthasarathy.

Yogi himself encouraged the friendship among Murugeshji, Parthasarathy, and Sivasankaran. Their relationship, centred on Yogi, was unlike ordinary friendships; the three spoke only of life, God, and their Guru. Yogi did not allow others to interfere in this bond and wished it to remain everlasting.

In 1982, Yogi instructed the three friends to meet once every month for three consecutive days at any one of their homes. However, the relatives and acquaintances of Murugeshji and Sivasankaran felt uneasy seeing Parthasarathy, who lived in material hardship, moving closely with wealthy friends.

During this period, Murugeshji invited Parthasarathy and Rathika to his home in Tuticorin. They accepted the invitation and travelled there. Murugeshji desired Parthasarathy to live as a free man. He advised Parthasarathy to resign from his job in Bangalore and settle in Sivakasi, starting a business of his own.

Parthasarathy found himself unable to make such a decision. Murugeshji therefore suggested that he seek clarity directly from Yogi. Accordingly, Parthasarathy and Rathika went to Tiruvannamalai to meet Yogi. As always, Yogi showered compassion on both of them and welcomed them into his house on Sannathi Street.

Parthasarathy explained Murugeshji’s proposal—that he should move to Sivakasi and work independently on a commission basis. He added that Murugeshji believed a spiritual seeker should never live as a servant to another. Yogi listened patiently. After a long pause, he advised Parthasarathy to wait for some more time.

At that moment, Yogi received a letter from Janardhanan. In it, Janardhanan stated that he would grant Parthasarathy leave either to visit Anandashram or to undertake the pilgrimage with Murugeshji and Sivasankaran—but not both.

Parthasarathy was deeply eager to visit Anandashram, having been profoundly influenced by The Gospel of Swami Ramdas. He had long planned this journey, and Janardhanan had already sanctioned leave for it. At the same time, he did not wish to miss the pilgrimage with his friends. On reading the letter, Yogi immediately instructed Parthasarathy to resign his job in Bangalore and move permanently to Sivakasi.

Hearing this, Rathika became frightened. She was reluctant to leave the security and protection of her sister and brother-in-law in Bangalore. She expressed her fear to Yogi. Yogi reassured her gently, saying that Parthasarathy would never harm her and that there was no need to panic. After blessing them, Yogi relieved them, and they returned to Bangalore.

Back in Bangalore, Parthasarathy and Rathika informed Janardhanan of Yogi’s instruction that they should relocate to Sivakasi. Janardhanan was deeply shocked but, after some time, consented. Within fifteen days, Parthasarathy and Rathika moved to Sivakasi. Murugeshji had already arranged a house for them.

Parthasarathy joined a printing ink manufacturing company as a commission agent. Within a year, he earned a stable and respectable income, which enabled him to bring his parents, brothers, and sister to live together in Sivakasi. Rathika gradually adapted to life with his family and began to develop affection for them.

When the time for the pilgrimage arrived, Murugeshji, Sivasankaran, and Parthasarathy first went to Tiruvannamalai to seek Yogi’s blessings. They planned to stay with Yogi for three days along with their families before setting out on the pilgrimage.

During this visit, the renowned scholar Sri Ki. Va. Jagannathan also came to see Yogi. Yogi took Murugeshji and Sivasankaran with him to meet the scholar and instructed Parthasarathy to remain at the Chatram to take care of the women and children. Parthasarathy arranged food for them and ensured everyone was comfortable. When the ladies urged him to eat as it was getting late, he replied that he would eat only after Yogi returned.

When Yogi came back with Murugeshji and Sivasankaran, Murugeshji’s mother, Padmavati, informed Yogi of Parthasarathy’s refusal to eat without him. Yogi immediately remarked, “If Parthasarathy cannot love Rathika, then it is impossible for him to love this beggar.”

Parthasarathy was stunned. He had believed that Yogi encouraged his renunciation, yet here was Yogi pointing to the neglected truth of relationship. He felt deep pain and confusion, while Yogi continued to laugh, as though unveiling a hidden lesson.

Yogi then cancelled their pilgrimage altogether. “This beggar is enough for you people,” he declared.

They remained with Yogi for an entire week and, as per his instruction, later went to Kodaikanal, where they stayed together for another week.

During their stay there, the friends discussed Parthasarathy’s inner conflict. They advised him to live a normal family life so that society would not scrutinize him, allowing him to pursue God silently and without disturbance. Eventually, Parthasarathy accepted their counsel.

Murugeshji awakened Parthasarathy to the truth that the Father alone is the doer, and human beings are merely instruments. Resisting the laws of nature would never lead to wisdom. Parthasarathy also remembered Yogi’s earlier words, spoken with emotion:

“This beggar committed a great mistake by running away from his family to remember my Father all the time. But this beggar is very happy seeing you friends, even though you live in family life and still remember my Father. This beggar feels at home with you. This is Vaikuntha for this beggar. As long as this beggar’s name exists in this world, the names of Murugeshan, Parthasarathy, and Sivasankaran will also remain.”

Understanding the depth of Yogi’s words and Murugeshji’s guidance, Parthasarathy realised that living with a devoted wife would not hinder spiritual growth. Murugeshji cited the lives of many saints who lived with families and yet remained one with God.

Parthasarathy therefore resolved to live an outwardly normal life, keeping his renunciation inward and unseen. This subtle transformation proved immensely beneficial. By guiding Parthasarathy toward a balanced life, Yogi enabled him to understand worldly relationships deeply.

In later years, Yogi would remark with affection, “This beggar was worried about Parthasarathy, but somehow my King Murugeshji transformed him.”

From that point onward, everything began to align naturally in Parthasarathy’s life, and Yogi poured upon him renewed love and compassionate grace.

Whenever the three friends were with Yogi, he would not permit others to interfere. He kept them close for days together. When they proposed walking from Tuticorin to Tiruvannamalai, Yogi encouraged the effort. The three walked together, enduring immense hardship. Later, Murugeshji and Parthasarathy, accompanied by a devotee named Anand, undertook the walk again—this time with far less difficulty.

On April 4th, 1984, at 4 o’clock in the evening, Murugeshji passed away in Calcutta. Parthasarathy was completely shattered by the sudden demise of his dearest friend Murugeshji. The news struck him so deeply that for four continuous days he could not sleep even for a moment. The loss drained him physically, mentally, and emotionally, leaving him utterly exhausted and broken.

On 8 April 1984, in the early morning around six o’clock, Parthasarathy visited Yogi Ramsuratkumar at the Sannathi Street house in Tiruvannamalai. In his own mysterious and compassionate way, Yogi shared Parthasarathy’s grief as if it were his own. He told Parthasarathy that he truly believed the news of Murugeshji’s passing only after receiving Parthasarathy’s detailed telegram.

Yogi then enquired minutely about the events that followed Murugeshji’s death—how the body was brought from Calcutta to Tuticorin, who performed the final rites, and what had happened to the wooden box in which the body was transported. Parthasarathy answered each question carefully. After listening, Yogi fell silent for a few moments. Then, in a choked voice heavy with emotion, he said that Murugeshji had realised the Father and was now worshipable. A deep and sacred silence followed.

After some time, Yogi gently asked Parthasarathy how long it had been since he last slept. Parthasarathy replied that he had not slept at all from the day he heard of Murugeshji’s death.

At that moment, someone knocked at the door. Yogi himself went out and returned shortly, carrying two parcels. When he opened them, they contained hot idlies. Yogi asked Parthasarathy to eat breakfast with him. Both of them ate together quietly. Afterward, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to lie down and talk. Yogi himself lay down on his mat. As Parthasarathy spoke, he gradually drifted into a deep, natural sleep.

He woke up only when Yogi called him again. It was already afternoon, around two o’clock. Two parcels of curd rice were ready, and both of them ate together. After lunch, Yogi once again asked Parthasarathy to lie down and talk. The moment Parthasarathy lay down, he fell into deep sleep again.

In the evening around eight o’clock, Yogi woke him up once more. Parthasarathy had no awareness of what had happened around him during his long, sound sleep in Yogi’s presence. Two parcels of chapatis were ready. Yogi asked him to sit beside him, and they ate together. After the simple meal, Yogi again asked him to lie down and talk. Once again, Parthasarathy slipped into deep sleep the moment he lay down.

In the early morning around four o’clock, Yogi gently woke him and said, “This beggar has seen you nicely, Parthasarathy. Now you can go to Sivakasi. My Father blesses you.”

Parthasarathy prostrated before Yogi and went straight to the bus stand from Yogi’s abode. By Yogi’s compassionate grace, Parthasarathy returned refreshed, healed, and completely released from the deep-rooted sorrow that had overwhelmed him.

After Murugeshji’s death, Sivasankaran sank into a profound depression. Gradually, he began adopting certain practices aimed at communicating with the spirits of Murugeshji and other deceased relatives.

This path led him into severe psychological disturbance. He started behaving as though he were Yogi himself and even claimed that Yogi’s spirit had entered him.

Earlier, Parthasarathy had warned Sivasankaran’s family that this situation was dangerous and could lead him toward insanity. However, the family initially believed that Sivasankaran had become a great mahatma. When his behaviour turned violent, they were shaken and frightened. Realising the seriousness of the situation, they requested Parthasarathy to approach Yogi for guidance.

Accordingly, Parthasarathy, along with Sivasankaran’s co-brother and sister-in-law, travelled by taxi to Tiruvannamalai to see Yogi. (By this time, Parthasarathy had already established his own business in Sivakasi.)

As soon as they reached Yogi, he enquired about Sivasankaran. Parthasarathy explained the entire situation. Yogi listened attentively and paused for a short while. Then he advised that Sivasankaran should be given tranquilisers and placed under medical supervision.

Yogi stated firmly that this beggar was very much alive in Tiruvannamalai and wondered how his spirit could be wandering in Sivakasi. With a broad smile, he assured them that his spirit was still very much with him.

Yogi consoled the group and reassured them that Sivasankaran would recover in a short time. At the same time, he issued a clear warning against attempting to contact spirits or indulging in such practices.

Turning to Parthasarathy, Yogi asked what he was doing at present. When Parthasarathy replied that he had started his own business, Yogi smiled and said, “If you and this beggar start doing business, Parthasarathy, who will look after this world?”

After a short while, Yogi relieved the group. They returned to Sivakasi the same night. With great difficulty, Sivasankaran’s family admitted him to a hospital after administering tranquilisers. Within a few weeks, he recovered fully and returned to normal life.

In 1986, Parthasarathy decided to withdraw completely from business life. He stopped going to the office and handed over all responsibilities to his younger brother, Suryanarayanan. From then on, he wandered freely, helping anyone who sought his assistance. His mind was constantly absorbed in the remembrance of Yogi. Once or twice a year, he would travel to Tiruvannamalai to have darshan of his Guru.

During one such visit, Yogi asked Parthasarathy whether he wished to go to the Himalayas, to Anandashram, or to live in one of the caves on the Holy Hill. Yogi spoke seriously and told him that if he wished to leave everything behind and go immediately—to the Himalayas, Anandashram, or to reside in a cave in Arunachala Mountain—he could do so at once.

Parthasarathy was frightened by this direct suggestion. In order to avoid the situation, he told Yogi that if he lived on the Hill he would become a disturbance to him, as he would feel tempted to see Yogi every day.

In truth, Parthasarathy feared that Yogi was asking him to renounce the world completely and disappear from worldly life. At that moment, he realised that he had been deceiving himself about the depth of his longing for God and God-realisation. When Yogi actually placed renunciation before him, he felt threatened and afraid. To escape, he gave evasive answers and excuses.

Yogi responded gently, “Oh, you can meet this beggar daily. You can speak with this beggar every day. After all, why do you think this beggar is sitting here?”

Still, Parthasarathy’s fear did not subside. Hesitantly, he said that he would return to Sivakasi. Yogi did not insist further and allowed him to leave.

The inner conflict between holding on to the self and renouncing life continued to trouble Parthasarathy. However, after a few weeks, he felt a deep inner urge to stay alone in one of the caves on the Holy Arunachala Hill. He travelled to Tiruvannamalai and managed to stay in Guhai Namasivaya Cave. He spent four days there entirely alone.

After coming down from the Hill, he went to the Sannathi Street house, where Yogi was then sitting on the staircase. Yogi welcomed him with warm laughter and asked where he had come from.

Parthasarathy replied that he had spent four days on the Hill. When Yogi asked where he had stayed, Parthasarathy said that he had lived in Guhai Namasivaya Cave. Yogi immediately held his hand and told him that he himself had lived in that cave for more than six months.

Yogi then asked how Parthasarathy had felt during his stay. Parthasarathy replied that the experience was different. Though he had hardly slept, he felt alert, awake, and inwardly blissful. The holy name “Yogi Ramsuratkumar” was flowing within him naturally, without any conscious effort. He also mentioned that he had seen a sadhu living nearby and that they spoke only once, while sharing a simple meal.

Thereafter, following Yogi’s guidance, Parthasarathy began spending three days every month in solitude, away from home—sometimes in forests, sometimes in other quiet places—until, by 1989, he was able to remain alone even in his own house.

Around this period, Gnanagiri Ganesan was facing serious difficulties in his family due to the partition of their business interests. The family owned several industrial units related to the printing industry. During the division, the main staff of the printing-ink manufacturing unit, including its manager, went over to the other group. The unit had been running at a loss for over fifteen years.

The auditors of the unit, Raghunath and Ganeshan of Pondicherry, who were also devotees of Yogi, urged Parthasarathy to take charge of the failing unit. Yogi had earlier asked Parthasarathy to help Ganesan whenever needed, and so Parthasarathy accepted the responsibility of managing the printing-ink unit.

Within a year, Parthasarathy transformed the fortunes of the company. The unit began to run profitably, and a harmonious atmosphere prevailed among the workers. Feeling that his task there was complete, Parthasarathy became restless and wished to withdraw. However, Ganesan insisted that he continue and refused to let him leave, even invoking Yogi’s name—something Parthasarathy did not appreciate.

Believing that his work was finished and that he needed solitude, Parthasarathy one morning handed over the keys to Ganesan and left for Gurumalai, a forest region near Kovilpatti, without informing his wife or family. One of Yogi’s devotees helped him reach the place.

The forest was remote and formidable. Parthasarathy spent four days there in a state of deep bliss, and no one knew where he was. Ganesan informed Rathika that Parthasarathy had gone away as a mendicant and might never return, and suggested that she go back to her father’s house.

Rathika was deeply shocked but still held a faint sense of faith. She went to Madurai, informed her father, and together they went to Tiruvannamalai to meet Yogi.

Rathika explained everything to Yogi. Yogi listened patiently and assured her that Parthasarathy would return to her soon. He even mentioned that Parthasarathy would come back to her and their pet dog, Dober. Relieved and reassured, Rathika and her father prostrated before Yogi with deep gratitude and returned to Sivakasi to wait.

After four days, Parthasarathy’s brother-in-law reached Gurumalai and brought him back. Suspicious of his intentions, he questioned him, but Parthasarathy explained that his stay was only temporary. However, Parthasarathy was deeply hurt by Ganeshan’s misinterpretation of his retreat and stopped speaking to him.

For the next two years, Parthasarathy would withdraw for three days every month to some secluded place. Through this discipline, he slowly learned the art of being alone. Then, in 1989, he chose to remain within his own house at Sivakasi, living in a small room, undisturbed by anyone except devotees of Yogi.

From then on, he remained continuously absorbed in the remembrance of Yogi and His Name. He lived in a state of quiet bliss. His body responded effortlessly to this inner state—a single simple meal at noon was sufficient, and sleep came rarely. Yet there was no fatigue.

That state cannot be adequately described. At times he would laugh, at times weep, and at times dance—completely carefree. The movements of the world and the actions of people appeared to him like images projected on a cinema screen. He experienced directly that the world was nothing but an appearance, and God alone was real. The sense of oneness dawned in him naturally, without effort.

During this period, Rathika visited Yogi at Tiruvannamalai along with her friends. Yogi would often enquire about Parthasarathy. When Rathika replied that Parthasarathy was constantly remembering Yogi’s Name, Yogi would smile and say, “Oh, he must be meditating and remembering my Father. He is doing great tapas.” Thus one full year passed in this manner.

During that time, Yogi conveyed through one of the Sivakasi devotees that he wished to see Parthasarathy. Parthasarathy immediately went to Tiruvannamalai for Yogi’s darshan. At that time, Janardhanan from Bangalore, Perumalappan from Srivilliputtur, Om Prakash Yogini, Murugadas of Kumarakoil, and a friend from America were also present with Yogi.

Tiruvannamalai was then overflowing with people, as Sri Rajiv Gandhi, former Prime Minister of India, was scheduled to visit the town for election campaigning. All the devotees were seated with Yogi at the Sannathi Street house when Yogi suddenly said, “Our Rajiv Gandhi is visiting Tiruvannamalai today. My Father says this beggar should see him. Do any of you have a car?”

Since no one had come by car, Yogi said calmly, “Alright. We shall go by foot. This beggar heard that Rajiv Gandhi will land at the college ground.”

Yogi carefully locked the house and took Janardhanan by the hand. The group walked together toward the college ground. It was a scorching hot day. When they reached the ground—several kilometres away—a massive crowd had already gathered. Loudspeakers blared continuously, and there was no shade anywhere.

Some police officials noticed Yogi and escorted him to a secure VIP area. Yogi asked the others to wait at a designated place. After a long wait, the group saw Rajiv Gandhi arrive by helicopter. He spoke briefly on the stage and then descended.

A local political leader introduced Yogi to Rajiv Gandhi. Rajiv Gandhi joined his palms respectfully and said, “Pranams.”

Yogi held Rajiv Gandhi’s hands and blessed him. Rajiv Gandhi then took leave and departed for Madras.

After the crowd dispersed, Yogi and the devotees walked out of the college ground. At that moment, a Muslim devotee who ran a small roadside hotel noticed Yogi and approached Him with reverence. Yogi embraced him warmly. The man invited Yogi to have lunch at his modest hotel. Yogi accepted on the condition that the man must accept payment. After much reluctance, the man agreed.

Vegetable rice was served to the group on lotus leaves. As there was no space inside the thatched structure, Yogi sat beneath a large tamarind tree just outside the college compound and ate there, despite the unclean surroundings and foul smell. The others joined Him.

When the college principal learned that Yogi was eating by the roadside, he rushed to request Yogi to come inside the college premises. Yogi gently declined, saying that the place beneath the tree was comfortable and that the principal should attend to his duties.

After the meal, Janardhanan paid the hotel owner as instructed.

Yogi then led the group toward the Hill, using the footpath adjacent to Ramanashram. At every theertham on the Hill, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to fetch water in His coconut shell. Yogi drank whenever He felt tired.

The eldest among them was Perumalappan, nearly seventy years old. As they climbed, Yogi enquired about him. Hearing his name, Perumalappan briskly stepped forward. Yogi smiled and said, “Oh, he is alright.”

Yogi walked slowly, observing everything—the trees, birds, and devotees. He plucked a blade of lemon grass, soaked it in water, and drank quietly. The entire group moved gently, immersed in the serenity of Arunachala.

Yogi showed them Guhai Namachivaya Cave, Virupaksha Cave, Skandashram, and finally the Banyan Tree Cave, where Papa Ramdas attained God-realisation. Before nightfall, they entered the Great Temple through the West Gopuram and rested at the Thousand Pillared Mandapam.

That day was spent entirely in Yogi’s holy presence. Panju Swami, an elderly devotee, also came, and Yogi spent considerable time with him.

The following day, Yogi asked everyone to disperse. Parthasarathy returned to Sivakasi.

Within a few months, Parthasarathy observed the financial struggles of his family, particularly his younger brother, who could no longer support even Parthasarathy’s minimal needs. Seeing their suffering moved him deeply. He decided to return to work.

From 1990 to 2000, Parthasarathy worked diligently at the printing ink business he had started earlier. Along with his younger brother and his elder brother’s son, he rebuilt the company, earned substantial wealth, and established financial stability.

Yet to him, it all felt like a divine play. Whether he sat alone in solitude or worked intensely in the office made no difference. Everything was Yogi’s work. He acted with total involvement, but without personal attachment. Work no longer disturbed him, nor did it bind him.

In 1993, Janardhanan of Bangalore came to Sivakasi and met Parthasarathy. He informed him that he had recently been with Yogi Ramsuratkumar at Tiruvannamalai and had obtained Yogi’s permission to build an ashram for Him and His devotees.

Janardhanan explained that when he first proposed the idea, Yogi had strongly opposed it. However, when Janardhanan spoke about the hardships faced by devotees—standing for long hours under the scorching sun and heavy rains just to have Yogi’s darshan—Yogi finally responded:

“This beggar does not need an ashram, Janardhana. This beggar can manage in this small place to do my Father’s work. But if you feel that an ashram is necessary for the devotees, then you may proceed. There is only one condition. You should not insist that this beggar come to the ashram. This beggar may come—or may not come. What do you say?”

Janardhanan felt deeply relieved and joyfully accepted Yogi’s condition. Yogi then enquired about Janardhanan’s next plan. Janardhanan replied that he intended to go to Sivakasi and discuss the matter with Yogi’s devotees there.

Soon after, Janardhanan convened a meeting of Yogi’s devotees at his mother’s house in Sivakasi. He narrated his entire conversation with Yogi. Parthasarathy and several others were overwhelmed with joy and immediately pledged substantial contributions for the noble cause. Within a short time—even before identifying land or forming a Trust—a considerable sum had already been entrusted to Janardhanan.

For nearly a year, Janardhanan, Parthasarathy, Sri Ramamurti of Virudhunagar, and Sri Raghunath of Pondicherry worked with enthusiasm and dedication toward establishing the ashram. The Yogi Ramsuratkumar Trust was formed, and Yogi nominated Janardhanan as the sole Life Trustee.

The group travelled extensively across Tamil Nadu, meeting devotees and collecting donations. Eventually, three acres of land in Tiruvannamalai, chosen by Yogi Himself, were purchased.

In February 1994, Janardhanan resigned from the Trust. Following this, Parthasarathy and the other friends also withdrew from active participation. Yogi personally enquired whether they would be willing to continue the work without Janardhanan. Except for Parthasarathy, all expressed their inability to do so.

Parthasarathy was about to respond affirmatively, but before he could speak, Yogi interjected and said, “So, you are not going to work without Janardhanan!”

Without waiting for Parthasarathy’s reply, Yogi walked away and sat down. Parthasarathy immediately understood that Yogi did not wish him to be involved in the ashram activities.

In 1994, Smt. Rajakumari Murugeshan and Rathika came to Tiruvannamalai on Guru Poornima. Yogi instructed them to remain there for a year. Initially, they stayed at Sivakasi Nadar Chatram. After a few months, Yogi identified a rented house for them at Ramana Nagar, close to the ashram site, and asked them to move there.

From that time onward, whenever Parthasarathy visited the Tiruvannamalai ashram, he would stand in line like any other devotee and offer his salutations to Yogi. He never approached the administration for a personal audience. Yet, whenever Yogi noticed Parthasarathy, He would call him aside, meet him personally, and spend time with him.

Yogi’s love and compassion toward Parthasarathy never diminished. On the contrary, they only deepened with time.

In 1998, Yogi entrusted Parthasarathy with a grave and demanding responsibility—to help resolve a deeply troubled marital conflict involving a young couple.

The girl’s parents wanted their daughter to obtain a divorce, whereas her husband, having repented for his past cruelties, sought reconciliation and wished to live with his wife again. The girl and her parents were ardent devotees of Yogi and approached Him seeking guidance.

Yogi asked the girl and her parents to narrate everything they had told Him to Parthasarathy. He then enquired whether they were acquainted with Parthasarathy. The parents replied that they had known him for many years and assured Yogi that they would approach him and explain the matter. Yogi told them that Parthasarathy would take the issue seriously and would help them resolve it.

Accordingly, the parents contacted Parthasarathy and narrated their daughter’s painful experiences. Parthasarathy visited their home, listened to them patiently, and then took them to Yogi. Yogi was pleased that Parthasarathy had become personally involved in resolving the matter with sincerity.

It took nearly one full year for Parthasarathy to bring about an amicable reconciliation. His own life experiences—marked by suffering, repentance, and transformation—enabled him to understand both sides with compassion and firmness. Ultimately, the couple reunited and began living together like any other normal family. Yogi expressed His joy and gratitude to Parthasarathy.

During 1998 and 1999, Parthasarathy visited Tiruvannamalai during the Jayanti celebrations of Yogi Ramsuratkumar. On those occasions, Yogi would call him daily and ask him to sing or speak before the gathering of devotees.

One day Yogi called Parthasarathy and said, “Parthasarathy, spare some time for Lee. This beggar will ask Lee to spend time with you. Now go and sit near Lee.”

Mr. Lee Lozovic from the United States had been a devotee of Yogi since 1976. He was a student of Mother Hilda and later founded his own spiritual institutions in the United States and France, with several followers. He had composed many songs on Yogi, compiled them into a book, and Yogi Himself arranged for those books to be sold among devotees in His presence.

When Parthasarathy went to sit near Mr. Lee, the latter hesitated, explaining that the space was reserved for his group from the United States. Only after Parthasarathy conveyed that Yogi had personally asked him to sit there did Mr. Lee allow him to do so.

Soon after, Yogi called Mr. Lee and told him, “This beggar has asked Parthasarathy to spare time for you. Whenever you have time, sit with Parthasarathy and listen to him.”

Mr. Lee thereafter met Parthasarathy twice and spent considerable time listening to his experiences with Yogi dating back to 1976.

In December 2000, Yogi instructed a young man—who was then assisting His physical attendant—to discuss matters concerning a Veda Pāṭhaśālā with Mr. Lee, Mr. Alan from France, and Parthasarathy at the premises of Ma Devaki Veda Pāṭhaśālā.

This youth had been introduced to Yogi earlier through Sri Rangarajan, who at that time ran a spiritual institution in Madras and had been an ex-trustee of the Yogi Ramsuratkumar Trust. The youth had stayed in the ashram in 1994, but his erratic behaviour led the management to reprimand him. He disappeared suddenly and reappeared in 1998, exhausted and pitiable.

Yogi requested the management to provide him food and clothing and allowed him to stay in the ashram, advising him to show respect to elders and behave appropriately.

The youth harboured many imaginations about himself and the ashram. Over time, he gained the confidence of Yogi’s physical attendant. After his arrival, discussions regarding a Veda Pāṭhaśālā began to emerge among those around Yogi.

The Ma Devaki Veda Pāṭhaśālā Trust was established within the premises of the Yogi Ramsuratkumar Trust. Yogi was declared the Founder and Life Trustee, while Devaki was appointed the Managing Life Trustee. About 10,000 square feet of land was transferred from the Yogi Ramsuratkumar Trust to the new Trust.

The stated objective of the Trust was to impart education in the Vedas, scriptures, and Śāstras to all, irrespective of caste, religion, gender, or nationality. However, in the preamble of the Trust Deed, attempts were made to merge the Yogi Ramsuratkumar Trust with the new Trust and vest both in favour of Devaki.

The witnesses to this Trust Deed were Sri T. S. Arunachalam, retired Judge of the Madras High Court, and Sri Sakthivel, a school teacher.

Yogi urged Sri Anjaneyalu, the building contractor, to complete construction of the Veda Pāṭhaśālā premises swiftly. The building was completed within two months. Although Yogi had been informed that the Trust would soon commence Vedic education, no such activity ever began.

Yogi gradually perceived that the youth had ulterior motives concerning the Veda Pāṭhaśālā, motives that were not aligned with the will of His Father. Consequently, Yogi inducted Justice T. S. Arunachalam and his advocate friend Sri Viswanathan as Life Trustees. Yogi removed Devaki from the post of Managing Trustee and appointed the retired Judge in her place.

In the meantime, Yogi was afflicted by cancer. His condition became alarmingly serious, and he was admitted to a hospital in Madras. There, he underwent surgery and gradually recovered. Though he was unable to walk after the operation, all other health parameters were normal. Yogi remained in the hospital for several months.

Once the doctors declared him fit to travel, he was discharged. The ashram management arranged a newly purchased van, and Yogi returned to Tiruvannamalai. He rested for two days in a room at his abode within the ashram. After that, he began giving darshan daily.

Every day, Yogi would call Parthasarathy and ask him either to speak a few words beneficial to the assembled devotees or to sing songs on Yogi. Parthasarathy would sing, and Yogi would bless him by offering fruits as prasād. During one such interaction, Yogi asked Parthasarathy to come and live permanently in Tiruvannamalai. Parthasarathy agreed to Yogi. Although Parthasarathy had undergone a deep inner awakening, he was still not ready to settle there immediately.

Parthasarathy had come to Tiruvannamalai two weeks before Yogi’s return from the Madras hospital. Another fifteen days passed, during which Yogi called him daily to sing. Nearly a month went by, and Parthasarathy felt the need to return to Sivakasi. After finishing his singing one day, he went to Yogi and prostrated before Him. Yogi was about to give him a fruit as prasād.

At that moment, Parthasarathy informed Yogi that he wished to return to Sivakasi. On hearing this, Yogi smiled gently, withdrew the fruit, and looked at him with profound love and compassion.

Parthasarathy sensed that Yogi might want him to stay for a few more days and therefore said, “If Swami wants me to stay here for some more time, I will stay.” Yogi immediately and emphatically replied, “Stay here.”

Around this time, Yogi also asked Janardhanan to remain in Tiruvannamalai. However, within two days, Janardhanan informed Yogi that he had to leave to attend a family function. Yogi became visibly displeased and did not respond to him. Instead, Yogi loudly called Parthasarathy and said, “Janardhanan wants to go. You go with him.”

Parthasarathy was confused. His home was Sivakasi, while Janardhanan’s was Bangalore, both in opposite directions. Nevertheless, Parthasarathy arranged for Janardhanan to travel by his car and Janardhan’s car followed them. They reached Bangalore together. The next morning, Parthasarathy left Bangalore and returned once again to Tiruvannamalai.

In the evening session, Parthasarathy resumed his place among the devotees seated before Yogi. As usual, Yogi called him to sing. Ten more days passed.

One morning, Yogi asked all the devotees present to stand and state their names and native places. He then instructed everyone to be present again in the evening, as He wished to say something important.

That evening, Yogi called each devotee individually, blessing them with the words, “My Father blesses you,” or simply, “Rama, Rama.”

When Parthasarathy’s turn came, Yogi asked, “Do you want to say anything?”

Parthasarathy replied, “Swami, I am waiting for your instructions.”

Yogi responded sharply, “What are you talking about?”

Parthasarathy said, “Swami, you asked me to stay here, and I am staying. Now I am waiting for your instructions.”

On hearing this, Yogi became angry and shouted, “You can go now.”

Parthasarathy was bewildered, yet he obeyed. That very evening, he left Tiruvannamalai and returned to his place.

About a month later, on 17 January 2001, Parthasarathy received a phone call from the young attendant who was caring for Yogi at the ashram. The youth said, “For the past few days, Swami has been remembering you constantly. He keeps repeating your name. Is it possible for you to come to Tiruvannamalai immediately?”

Parthasarathy replied that he was leaving at once. That very evening, he reached Tiruvannamalai.

On arrival, he enquired about Yogi’s condition. The people around Yogi told him that for several days Yogi had been continuously murmuring, “Parthasarathy… Parthasarathy…”

They had asked Yogi whether He meant Parthasarathy of Sivakasi, and Yogi had affirmed it. When asked whether He wished to see him, Yogi had again said yes. Only then did they place the phone call.

Parthasarathy also learned that after his last meeting with Yogi on 15 December 2000, Yogi had stopped giving audience and had not spoken to anyone. He lay with eyes closed, as though in deep sleep.

That evening, around 8 o’clock, Parthasarathy was taken into the room where Yogi lay. The attendants loudly announced into Yogi’s ears that Parthasarathy had come.

Slowly, Yogi opened His eyes and looked at him. A broad, compassionate, welcoming smile spread across His face. He extended His hand toward Parthasarathy.

Parthasarathy placed his hand in Yogi’s. Yogi pressed it gently and said, “Thank you, Parthasarathy, for coming here.”

These were the last words Yogi ever spoke. After that, Yogi did not speak to anyone again.

Yogi left His body on 20 February 2001, in the early morning at 3 o’clock. Parthasarathy remained with Him until the very last breath. He touched Yogi’s feet and came out. All final rites were completed. Parthasarathy left Tiruvannamalai on the third day.

Parthasarathy deeply contemplated Yogi’s words and His unspoken wish. At last, he surrendered completely to that will and decided to live permanently in Tiruvannamalai.

At a family meeting, he expressed his decision and told them that he would live on whatever they chose to give him. The family offered him a car and any amount of money he might need.

Finally, on 26 March 2002, Parthasarathy came to Tiruvannamalai along with Rathika to live permanently. Earlier, he had rented a house near the South Gopuram of the Arunachaleswara Temple, a house reminiscent of the old Sannathi Street residence.

Later they constructed a house in the outskirts of Tiruvannamalai and moved there. Now they has established a trust and the house has been renovated with additional rooms, for devotees to come and stay there—in the shadow of Arunachala, and in the living presence of Yogi.