This is a charming 6 minute film of the anniversary Yogaswami Padapuja in Jaffna.
From the Guru Chronicles:
Swami’s teachings explore the mysteries of yoga, disclose the divine experiences on the path and praise Chellappaswami and the Mahadevas, especially the supreme Lord, Siva—avoiding the intricate complexities of the Tamil language, but instead using charmingly simple vocabulary and phrasing. In all, Swami’s compositions consist of 385 Natchintanai songs, twenty letters, called tirumuham, and about 1,500 sayings, or arul vachakam. “Our Gurunathan,” the very first song in Natchintanai, relates the teachings of Chellappaswami and projects to everyone who sings it the depth of Yogawami’s affection for the soul who brought him into the light and into deeper realizations. It begins:
He made me to know my self, our Gurunathan.
On my head both feet he placed, our Gurunathan.
Father, mother, guru—he, our Gurunathan.
All the world he made me rule, our Gurunathan.
Previous karma he removed, our Gurunathan.
Even “the three” can’t comprehend our Gurunathan.
He sees neither good nor bad, our Gurunathan.
As “I am He” he manifests, our Gurunathan.
Yogaswami worked intuitively, responding to those who came according to “inner orders.” In explaining this process, he once said, “I do nothing. I can do nothing. Everything you see, that is done by what comes from within.” Another time he said, “When you come here, what will happen was settled long ago. We go through it; you bring it, but it all happened long ago. Sit and be a witness.” Swami explained the process: “When you are pure, you live like water on a lotus leaf. Do what is necessary, what comes to you to do, then go on to the next order you receive, and then to the next that comes.”
He advised, “Boldly act when you receive orders from within. You need not wait until all details are in order. If you wait for everything to be worked out, you may miss your chance. Have faith and do the work that comes from within. Money will trail after you if you are responding to divine orders. Helpers will come. Everything will come. You have only to follow carefully that which comes from within.”
When asked how to find one’s inner voice, he said, “Summa iru. Be still! Be still, and what you need will come to you.” “Summa iru!” was his constant command. He practiced it and heeded the answers that came.
Someone would ask him a question and he would wait to feel his orders. If he felt no orders, he would do nothing until orders came. Once a man drove up to Swami as he was walking through town and asked if he could drive him anywhere. “No orders,” Swami replied and waved the man on. A few minutes later the driver came by and stopped again. “Now I have my orders,” Swami said, and got into the car.
Sometime in the 1930s, two elderly German matrons set sail for India in search of truth, light and the good path. For months they endured arid austerities and boiled water as they searched out and spoke with every sadhu and holy man they could find. Their itinerary included Tiruvannamalai, the popular destination for seekers, where the renowned mystic and master of Advaita, Ramana Maharishi, had lived for decades on the sacred Arunachala Hill in a humble ashram.
Traveling south, they eventually crossed the Palk Strait and entered Ceylon. From Colombo they made their way north to Jaffna where, it was said, one of the Great Ones lived. Locals stared unabashedly as the pair navigated dusty roads in long, frilly dresses, lace gloves and sun-thwarting parasols of dubious design. They found Yogaswami in his small thatched hut. Offering their obeisances, the two seekers sat on the woven mat he offered and drank dark Ceylon tea with the dark-skinned master who listened to the story of their pilgrimage and to their queries about the nature of Truth.
“So, you asked these same questions to others?” Yogaswami inquired. “Yes, Swami,” they replied. “What did Ramana Maharishi tell you, then?” Intrigued that Swami knew of their visit, the elder responded, “His only words to us were ‘One God. One World.’” “I can do no better than that. You may go,” Yogaswami said abruptly. With that, the two departed, cherishing the darshan of one of their century’s enlightened souls.