Until the evening of Karthikai when, each year, a beacon is lit on the summit of Arunachala, or it may have been Deepavali, I am not quite sure, there were huge crowds for the festival and we were sitting in the courtyard outside the hall. Bhagavan was reclining on his couch and I was sitting in the front row before it. He sat up, facing me, and his narrowed eyes pierced into me penetrating, intimate, with an intensity I cannot describe. It was as though they said: “You have been told; why have you not realized?” And then quietness, a depth of peace, an indescribable lightness and happiness.
During these years I had felt no need to write about Bhagavan. After his body’s death and his reassurance: “I am not going away; I am here; where could I go?”, there was a dream in which he called me up to him and, as I knelt before his couch, placed his hands on my head in blessing. At this time an impulse came to write about Bhagavan and especially to explain the accessibility of the path of Self-enquiry which he taught. Most of the chapters in this books were written first as articles in various papers during the months following the Mahasamadhi and they have now been collected together and edited to form a book.