Go the Way You Came

(A Story from Guru Ramana by S. Cohen):

On a summer morning a middle-aged Tamilian entered and sat for about half an hour.
His restlessness and rolling eyes suggested that he had something weighty on his mind.
At last he spoke with an assumed humility, particularly as he chose to speak in English.

Visitor:
Swami, we ignorant people read so much, hoping to have an inkling of Truth, but, alas, the more we read the more Truth recedes from our ken. I have read all the Western philosophers from Descartes to Bertrand Russell – they are all useless. But our Rishis differ among themselves.
Shankara says, “Go on repeating ‘I am Brahman’ and you become Brahman.”
Madhvacharya says that the Soul is ever separated from Brahman.
You say “Enquire ‘who am I’ and you will arrive.”
Many other teachers gave many other solutions. Is this not puzzling? Which of you is right?

(Having waited in vain for about five minutes, he resumed with a mildly raised tone)
Swami, which way am I to go?

Bhagavan (with a gentle wave of the hand):
Go the way you came.

My First Reaction (Years Ago)

I’ll be honest. When I first read this story years ago, I laughed.

It sounded like Ramana was saying:

“Sir, you came in that door. Kindly use it again.”
(Translation: Please leave.)

It had all the spice of a southern sage who’s had enough of metaphysical rambling for the day.

The image of a slightly arrogant, self-important man showing off his reading list (Descartes to Russell!) and getting subtly shown the door… it felt almost like a sitcom moment.

But beneath that surface…

The Real Blow Comes Later

Later, when I truly sat with these words — “Go the way you came” — I realized it was not rejection at all.

It was the most tender, devastating, surgical pointer possible.

Ramana was not interested in joining a game of doctrinal ping-pong. He had no desire to impress or debate. Instead, he waited — silently — until the storm of concepts began to burn itself out.

And then, with a single gesture, he offered a return, not an answer.

He was pointing to the source.

The way this man had come into restlessness, into confusion, into this noisy search —
turn back inward and retrace it.

Who came?

Who is the “I” that asks?

Not forward.
Not outward.
Not deeper into systems and schools.

But back.
To the root.
To the silence before the question arose.

Go the way you came.

Silence as Grace

What seemed like dismissal was, in truth, compassion wearing sharp clothes.

The visitor didn’t need another teaching. He needed to break — to feel the futility of seeking Truth through accumulation.

Ramana’s silence was not passive. It was alive.
It was the fire of śakti behind stillness.

And when he finally spoke, it was not to debate Madhva or Shankara — but to cut through them all in one breathless sweep:

Go the way you came.

A Koan for the Heart

In the end, what sounded like dismissal may have been the most intimate invitation.

“Go the way you came.”
Not a rebuke, but a quiet nudge —
toward stillness, toward source, toward the Self that was never lost.

No need to untangle philosophies.
No need to decide who was right — Shankara or Madhva or Descartes.
No need to name all the winds that blow the breath — prāṇa, apāna, vyāna...

Ramana himself, in his simple and radiant clarity, once said:

From Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi, Talk 392:

“The intricate maze of philosophy of different schools is said to clarify matters and reveal the Truth.
But in fact, they create confusion where no confusion need exist.
To understand anything there must be the Self. The Self is obvious. Why not remain as the Self?
What need to explain the non-self?”

“Take the Vedanta for instance: They say there are fifteen kinds of prana. The student is made to commit the names to memory and also their functions. The air goes up and is called prana; goes down and is called apana; operates the indriyas and is called something. Why all this? Is it not enough to know that one prana does the whole work?”

“The antahkarana thinks, desires, wills, reasons, etc., and each function is attributed to one name such as mind, intellect, etc. Has anyone seen the pranas or the antahkaranas? Have they any real existence? They are mere conceptions. When and where will such conceptions end?”

“Ah! Fortunate is the man who does not involve himself in this maze!
I was indeed fortunate that I never took to it. Had I taken to it, I would probably be nowhere — always in confusion.
My pūrva-vāsanās (former tendencies) directly took me to the enquiry ‘Who am I?’ It was indeed fortunate!”