Who Am I? From a 7-Year-Old's Void to Ramana Maharishi's Ashram

The timeless journey of self-enquiry is one we all share.

Self-inquiry sends my 7-year-old mind into a void

There’s little context for this incident, other than I was a 7-year-old, sitting alone at the edge of my bed one day. Then began a spontaneous line of questioning regarding my identity and who I really was. 

I considered the name that my family had given me — Kiruthika. Was this who I was? What even was a Kiruthika? It seemed to have no meaning for me. 

This led to me grappling with the thought that I could only have been this persona for 7 years, only for this lifetime. What was I before that? 

My mind dug deeper and deeper, looking for an answer to this question then suddenly … nothing. For a brief moment that felt like an age, my mind went utterly blank. Not the kind of absent minded blankness we might feel in a boring lecture, but it had collapsed to a complete stillness. As if I was falling into a black hole.

The experience was so potent and frankly, quite frightening for a 7-year-old. I was genuinely afraid that I would somehow lose myself into a void and in fear, I pulled back to ground myself in what I believed was my “real” world.

With time and spiritual discernment, I understood that this wasn’t a void in a nihilistic sense, but rather an indescribably loving field of infinite potential. The primordial womb of creation is the nothingness from which everything ebbs and flows. There was nothing to be afraid of. It was home.

As with most accounts of my personal experiences, I won’t seek to analyse, self-critique or justify. Despite having grown up in a Hindu household and being inwardly devoted to certain deities who entered my life, I’ve rejected dogmatic thinking quite fiercely at every turn since I was a toddler. I have always placed more value on direct realisation, intuitive understanding and simply having goodwill towards others. This approach has served me pretty well so far, even if it’s felt somewhat isolating at times.

Unplanned attendance at Ramana Maharishi’s birthday celebration

In December 2018, my parents decided to travel to Tiruvannamalai in Tamil Nadu, to visit the saint Ramana Maharishi’s ashram. It was my dad in particular who felt a desire to go there and though none of us had prior knowledge of this sage or his works, we went along with it.

I’ve written an article about my journey to Tiruvannamalai separately, as that was quite a joyful experience in itself. This short account is more about what happened once we arrived at the ashram.

We were not expecting to see bustling crowds everywhere throughout the ashram, with some visitors absorbing everything quietly while others happily socialised or visited the book shop. Amidst all the activity, peacocks painted the grounds and skies in iridescent sweeps. To me, these majestic creatures are the epitome of self-assuredness, neither veering into pride nor vanity as they sometimes get mischaracterised. 

Normally we prefer the peace and quiet of “off-peak” visits where possible, but this trip was rather spontaneous and now that we had arrived, the gracious thing to do was to accept and embrace the festivities.

It appeared that there was some major celebration going on that day as most of the devotees were inside the main prayer hall. As we approached, the powerful vibrations of the priests chanting reverberated in the atmosphere, moving some people to tears and others into meditative states. I was surprised when my mum nudged me to see that my dad too was very moved at this moment. Something spoke to him on this visit that never resurfaced afterward. Perhaps there was a subtle kind of closure that we weren’t aware of.

Following the prayers, visitors queued to be served food and we joined in too. Out of curiosity, my dad asked the person in front of us what the occasion was and they told us that it was the birthday celebration for Ramana Maharishi. It wasn’t his calendar birth date that was taken into account, but the astrological positions of the sun and moon at the time of his actual birth. 

For us, this was a happy accident - we felt a little like party crashers! 

Now that I’ve rambled on about the entire time spent at the ashram, I realise I didn’t get to why this relates to what I’ve written in the first part of this article. 

What personally struck me the most about this visit was that from the moment I stepped foot onto the ashram grounds to the time I picked up one of Ramana Maharishi’s most popular books at the shop, the same thought rang through my head - Who am I?

This just happened to be the title of his book, and one of his core teachings he was known for in life was indeed the art of self-enquiry.

The line of enquiry that spontaneously provoked my 7-year-old mind is taught as liberating wisdom by the great saints. Knowing our true selves is not just a beautiful concept  — it is our natural state and the birthright of all human beings.

Kiruthika Rajeswaran