Nisargadatta’s Bombshells – Direct Pointers from a Beedi Seller
- Sukhdev Virdee
- Jul 17
- 3 min read
He didn’t sit on a golden throne.
He didn’t quote scripture endlessly.
He sold hand-rolled cigarettes in a crowded Bombay alley.
And yet, Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj spoke
with the fire of a thousand Upanishads compressed into one body.
“You are not the body.
You are not the mind.
You are the knowledge ‘I Am’.”
He didn’t offer comfort.
He offered demolition.
Truth in a Matchbox
The first time I read I Am That, I put the book down after five pages.
Not because I didn’t like it.
But because something in me had no words.
His teachings hit like a hammer—
not to punish, but to break down everything I’d built in the name of “me.”
Nisargadatta didn’t care for philosophy.
He didn’t waste time decorating words.
He went straight for the jugular of the false self.
No Spiritual Fluff — Just Fire
He didn’t pander to emotions.
He didn’t soften his words for the ego’s comfort.
If you sat before him hoping for compassion
as the mind defines compassion,
you’d leave disappointed.
But if you sat before him willing to be pierced by Truth,
you’d leave different—if you were even left at all.
“You will receive everything you need when you stop asking for what you want.”
That was his version of love.
Direct.
Uncompromising.
Untainted by performance.
The Power of “I Am”
Many misunderstood Nisargadatta’s focus on the sense of “I Am.”
They treated it like a mantra.
A concept to be analyzed.
But he wasn’t pointing to words.
He was pointing to the raw, felt presence that precedes thought.
“Stay with the ‘I Am.’ Let go of everything else.”
He didn’t say to chant it.
He said to be it.
Because before the body,
before the mind,
before name,
before form…
there is only this undeniable, impersonal knowing:
I Am.
And resting in that is resting in the unborn.
He Didn’t Just Teach — He Embodied It
What moved me most was not just his words.
It was who he was.
An ordinary man.
Selling bidis.
Raising a family.
Living in a small Mumbai flat above a shop.
But utterly, totally, irreversibly free.
He didn’t escape the world.
He saw through it.
And in that seeing,
he became a mirror for those still tangled in illusion.
Not for the Faint of Heart
I’ll be honest: his sharpness offended me at first.
There were no warm hugs.
No “you’re doing great” pats on the back.
Just clean, cutting insight.
But the longer I sat with him — through his words,
through the silence between them —
I realized his fire wasn’t cruelty.
It was clarity.
A clarity so vast,
so pure,
so unconcerned with approval,
that the ego had nowhere to hide.
That kind of grace is rare.
And it’s not always gentle.
But it’s always real.
He Died Before He Died
In his final days, Nisargadatta’s body was frail, riddled with cancer.
But when someone asked how he was doing, he said:
“I am not the body, so what can go wrong?”
No drama.
No fear.
No negotiation.
He had died before he died.
And what remained
was That which never began.
📿 Let the Fire Burn
The 5 Illusions That Keep You from Awakening – And The One Truth That Sets You Free
Nisargadatta spent his life tearing down illusions. Start by looking at your own.
No fluff. No masks. Just a raw, loving invitation into Reality as it is.
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