Nisargadatta Maharaj - The Cigarette-Selling Sage (Jnana Yoga)

Dadi**: Guddu beta, if I told you that one of the greatest spiritual teachers of the twentieth century sold cigarettes for a living, would you believe me?

Guddu**: A cigarette seller? But Dadi, cigarettes are bad!

Dadi**: I know, beta. But this is a strange and wonderful story. There was a man in Mumbai named Nisargadatta Maharaj. He looked nothing like a sage. He wore ordinary clothes, spoke roughly, smoked constantly, and ran a tiny bidi shop - those hand-rolled cigarette bundles.

Guddu**: How could someone like that be a great teacher?

Dadi**: That's exactly what makes his story so powerful, beta. He had no education, no grand ashram, no wealthy donors. Just a small shop and a tiny room upstairs where he lived.

Guddu**: So what made him special?

Dadi**: When he was thirty-four years old, a friend took him to meet a spiritual master named Siddharameshwar Maharaj. This Guru looked at Nisargadatta and said something simple but earth-shaking: "You are not what you think you are. Find out what you really are."

Guddu**: That's a strange thing to say!

Dadi**: Nisargadatta was confused at first too. But something in those words struck deep. His Guru told him to focus on just one thing: the feeling of "I am." Not "I am a shopkeeper" or "I am tired" - just pure "I am." The simple feeling of existing.

Guddu**: How do you focus on that?

Dadi**: It's hard to explain, beta. Nisargadatta would sit in his shop, selling cigarettes to customers, but all the while his attention was on this sense of being. "I exist. I am." He held onto that feeling constantly.

Guddu**: For how long?

Dadi**: Three years, beta. Three years of continuous focus, even while working, eating, walking. And then something happened. He suddenly realized that what he truly was had never been born and would never die. The story of "Nisargadatta the shopkeeper" was just a dream appearing in something infinite.

Guddu**: I don't really understand, Dadi.

Dadi**: That's okay, beta - these are deep ideas even for adults! Let me try to explain it simply. Nisargadatta realized that you are not your body, not your thoughts, not your name. You are the awareness in which all these things appear.

Guddu**: Like how a movie appears on a screen?

Dadi**: Exactly! You are like the screen, beta. Movies come and go - happy scenes, sad scenes, scary scenes - but the screen itself is never touched. Nisargadatta said we are like that screen. Life appears on us, but we are untouched by it.

Guddu**: That's a cool way to think about it!

Dadi**: People from all over the world started coming to his tiny room above the bidi shop. Scientists, professors, rich people - they would climb narrow stairs, sit on the floor in a cramped space, and ask this cigarette-seller questions about life and death.

Guddu**: What did he tell them?

Dadi**: He was very direct, beta. Not soft and gentle like some teachers. He would say things like, "You think you were born? Were you there to watch your birth? Birth happens to the body. You are before the body." He challenged people to question everything they believed.

Guddu**: Did he ever build a big ashram?

Dadi**: Never! He lived simply until he died, still running his little shop. He said, "I am not your teacher. I can only point. If you don't look where I point, I can't help you."

Guddu**: Why didn't he stop selling cigarettes if he was so wise?

Dadi**: That's a good question, beta. Maybe he was showing that spirituality doesn't mean running away from ordinary life. You can realize the deepest truths while doing the most ordinary work. The outside doesn't matter - only the inside.

Guddu**: So I can find God while doing homework?

Dadi**: Absolutely! That was his whole teaching. You don't need caves or mountains. You don't need to quit your job or leave your family. Just ask yourself: "Who am I really?" and keep looking until you find the answer.

Guddu**: Dadi, this is making my brain tired!

Dadi**: Ha! Even Nisargadatta would say, "Don't worry about understanding. Just be." Goodnight, my philosophical Guddu. Sweet dreams - and remember, you are the dreamer, not the dream!

Guddu**: Goodnight, Dadi!