Absolutely genuine dialogues lie at the heart of I Am That. This classic emerged from actual meetings in Mumbai during the late 1960s and early 1970s, where Nisargadatta Maharaj spoke directly to visitors in his humble room. Ramesh Balsekar, Maharaj’s devoted student, meticulously recorded these exchanges—sometimes scribbling in the margins of a battered notebook, other times transcribing from tape recordings—to preserve the essence of those spontaneous, no-frills conversations.

Readers today, in the age of meditation apps and virtual breathwork sessions, might find it refreshing to know these words weren’t imagined or polished in some ivory tower. Instead, they sprang from real seekers asking burning questions and Maharaj responding with razor-sharp clarity. The dialogues weren’t staged performances or literary inventions; each session carried the freshness of an improvised jazz solo—alive, unpredictable, and direct.

Given the current global thirst for authenticity—whether scrolling through TikTok wellness gurus or joining live-streamed yoga retreats—discovering a text born of face-to-face encounters feels like striking gold. The book’s conversational style, peppered with Marathi expressions and Maharaj’s earthy humor, keeps readers leaning in, as if sitting on a cushion right beside him. His teachings on “I am” consciousness resonate just as powerfully now, perhaps more so, with growing interest in non-dual awareness and unplugging from digital noise.

Ultimately, I Am That stands as a faithful time capsule of real-life exchanges between teacher and student. No embellishments, no dramatization—just the raw, spirited dialogue of a man deeply rooted in the present moment, guiding others to glimpse the timeless Self.