A few vivid snapshots from Ramana’s life bring those lofty teachings right down to earth. One of the most striking tales is the sixteen-year-old Ramana’s dream of being swallowed by a cobra—only to wake up completely fearless, as if death itself had been unmasked as illusion. That sudden, blazing self-realization set him on the path toward Arunachala.

He left home without a backward glance, trekking barefoot for days until the sacred hill’s silhouette appeared on the horizon. That pilgrimage—equal parts adventure and inner fire—speaks volumes about dropping the known in pursuit of truth.

Silence often carried more weight than words. Once a nighttime intruder crept into his room, intent on theft. Instead of cries or struggle, Ramana simply regarded him with steady calm. The burglar, unnerved by that unspoken presence, fled and never returned. Similarly, when a runaway rash plagued a devotee, a single, tranquil gaze from Ramana melted the inflammation overnight. It felt almost like modern-day “energy healing,” long before wellness trends put a name to it.

Scholars sometimes arrived, hoping for debate. One renowned pundit, Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni, encountered only simplicity and self-enquiry. No dry scriptures were paraded—just a pointed “Who am I?” that left the scholar speechless, mind finally touching its own source.

Behind all these vignettes lies the same thread: self-inquiry and silent transmission. Today’s mindfulness apps and silent retreats echo that very principle—reminders that presence often surpasses explanation. Ramana’s life wasn’t an ivory-tower mystery; it was a living demonstration that dropping the “I,” even for a moment, can shift everything. These stories still shimmer with relevance, nudging anyone who’s ever felt restless or rushed to pause and ask, “Who’s asking the question?”