Reminiscing a Brief Stay with Swami Chidananda Puri ji
Moments of silence, clarity, and unasked answers.
The first time I met Pūjanīya Swami Chidananda Puri ji was in June 2014. I had been listening to his discourses on the Gītā and Upaniṣad-s since 2011 but had never got an opportunity to meet him. The fact was, I never took the initiative, as I was content seeing him on the Vyāsa-peetham (the seat on which an Acārya sits to give a Dharmic discourse), and listening to his words of wisdom spoken with utmost clarity and conviction.
I was in awe of the nobility and precision of his thought and speech. I preferred to quietly do my namaskāram from a distance, like thousands of others who attend his talks on Advaita. Never did I think that I would meet and have a conversation with him one day — leave alone staying with him at his ashram (Kolathur Advaita Ashramam) for a week.
2014 was a turbulent year for me. I was going through many confusions and was seeking advice from my sisterlike Chinmaya Rekha. She suggested that I meet Swamiji and spend a few days with him. Being a student of Swamiji since the 90s, she connected me to the ashram.
I vividly remember reaching there on a Sunday (June 8, 2014) around noon — just at the right time to have lunch with Swamiji.
Swamiji is a busy man. Apart from public lectures, he takes regular classes for his disciples (a 4-year Vedānta course) at the ashram. He also runs a school, a children’s home, an old-age home, a temple, ashram centres across the state, and many other big and small seva projects under the aegis of Sri Sankara Charitable Trust.
Not to mention the continuous stream of visitors — people from all walks of life (like myself) seeking his guidance on matters ranging from personal life to Sādhana and Adhyātma, to society and politics. I must say, it is truly a sight to watch Swamiji engage with each and every one at their respective planes, with genuine love, concern, and respect.
(On that note, how can one forget the hope, inspiration, and dynamism that Swamiji became during the unfortunate Supreme Court verdict on Śabarimala and the Communist Government, hell-bent on taking far-left and naxal activists to desecrate Śrī Sannidhānam? Swamiji literally united the devout Hindus across the world!)
My days during the stay began after breakfast, when I would go to his room and sit for a couple of hours. He was convalescing after a surgery. Despite that, he was busy writing letters, meeting people, and so on.
In between, our conversations happened too. I had gone prepared with a set of questions, many of which felt trivial after spending time with him. A few others got answered in his silence! (Maybe a rise of consciousness happened within me.)
I did ask a few foolish questions as well.
Like, for example, when I asked if he could narrate a few experiences or moments when he was personally convinced that he was ready for Sanyāsa. Swamiji didn’t reply for a while. I was wondering if that was inappropriate to ask, when he broke his silence and said, “Never ask a flowing river and a wandering monk their origin. For, there exist none.”
Now I’m quiet.
He looked deep into my eyes and continued, “Where does Gaṅgā originate?”
“Gomukh,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Mm… yes. That’s what the books say,” I retorted.
Swamiji explained, “What starts at Gomukh is a rivulet that flows down the Himalayas to be joined by hundreds of streams and rivers, big and small. So much so, that by the time it reaches the plains, it’s a mighty river carrying billions of gallons of water. The Gaṅgā that originates at Gomukh isn’t the Gaṅgā that drains into the Bay of Bengal. In the same way, a jīvā matures with a series of experiences across lifetimes. You can’t isolate one or two of those and give credit.”
I was speechless.
“Never ask a flowing river and a wandering monk their origins. For there exist none,” he repeated.

Another one was on the next day, when I asked Swamiji if he thought I was ready for Sanyāsa. Gosh! I knew I was not! But why did I ask? That’s what stupidity does. You can’t conceal it. It raises its head at the most opportune moment.
By the way, my role models have always been Sanyāsi-s... Swami Vivekananda, Gurudev Swami Chinmayananda, Swami Mitrananda... Maybe that’s why I asked.
Anyway, Swamiji’s reply was an emphatic “NO.” He was gracious enough to supplement it with a filter test. Swamiji said, “An individual matured for Sanyāsa never doubts if he is ready for it. He just renounces the world and lives a Sanyāsi within.”
Wow! That’s clear and precise. Never again will I ask that question. Never in this life, never in any future lives I may have to take birth (I wish this was my last).
The reply literally burnt away something within.
See, that’s what a Guru does!
So many moments, so many learnings—etched in silence and words alike. I’ll write about them in time.
Śrī Gurubhyō Namaḥ!
This article was first published as a Facebook post on September 7, 2021. I am now publishing it here on Substack for a wider audience and archival purposes.