Pujya Acharya Sri Ekkirala Bharadwaja
Acharya Sri Ekkirala Bharadwaja: A Living Embodiment of Eternal Grace
In the sacred lineage of spiritual masters who have graced this earth, Parama Pujya Acharya Sri Ekkirala Bharadwaja stands as a radiant and unparalleled presence. Fondly revered as “Master” by all who came into his orbit, he was a perfect synthesis of profound scholarship, unwavering devotion, and limitless compassion. His life was a living scripture, and his teachings remain a timeless gift that harmonizes the deepest truths of all spiritual traditions into one luminous path of love, wisdom, and surrender.
Born in 1938 in Bapatla, Andhra Pradesh, into a family rich with Vedic learning, Master displayed from childhood an extraordinary clarity of mind and purity of heart. Even as he excelled in worldly education and inspired generations of students as a lecturer of English literature, his inner being was drawn toward the eternal. In 1963, at the Samadhi Mandir in Shirdi, he experienced the highest spiritual experience, an experience of Oneness with the Truth that pervades, Oneness with the Divine. Master writes about it thus in His own words :
"My quest for truth was awakened by the tragic demise of my nephew in 1955 on the occasion of my initiation (sacred thread) ceremony. Now I see, in retrospect, that it was indeed an initiation. The initial heartbreak had left and, in its wake, several fundamental questions arose in me: “Is there a Supreme Spirit? What is the nature? How can we contact it? What is life? What is death? Is there a soul? Why hasn’t man found a way out of death? What is Time?” and such others. The search went on unanswered till 1960. One evening in that year, when I was taking a stroll, something mysterious occurred somewhere deep in me and all the questions vanished in a trice and peace prevailed. These questions seemed out of place, of no value any longer. A book on Zen which came to my hand quite unasked for, contained a description of inner illumination or satori which came nearest to my experience. It was a pleasant surprise and a promise. The quest took on a richer hue.
In 1963, my elder brother Sri E. Vedavyas invited me to join him on his visit to Shirdi. Though I had little faith in saints at that time, I consented just to give him my company. On the 8th of February we reached Shirdi at sunset and we went straight to the samadhi mandir to attend the arti. The deep faith that shone on the faces of the congregation for the saint who left off his physical frame nearly half a century ago, was surprise to me. Soon after, the devotees dispersed and the shrine was mostly empty. My brother showed me the tomb at close quarters and told me that Shri Baba’s mortal remains were kept in it. That being my first close look of a tomb, I was shocked. My first reaction was to imagine in what a putrefied condition the body must have been. The marble structure of the tomb and the profuse incense that was burnt there made me suppose that it was intended to keep out any stench that might possibly leak out. The thought was revolting and nauseating. I at once took leave of my brother and slept in the room, unable even to relish food, in the wake of the shock.
Next morning, a keen apetite woke me up and I made straight for the Madras hotel. As I passed before the samadhi mandir, I found that the morning arti was over and the place was almost vacant. The sight of the marble statue over the samadhi attracted my attention and I wanted to have a close look at the form that continues to charm so many devotees. I stepped in and stood at a little distance from the statue and looked at it. It is quite life-like and I felt that the saint must have looked precisely like that. The sculptor must have been divinely inspired in capturing that mysterious smile and the inward look. The look captured my gaze. “What does his face, especially his look and smile, indicate of his attitude? Was he elated that so many visited him to pay their homage, adore and worship him? Or was he overwhelmed with compassion for them? Or, in that mood, was he oblivious of his separate existence, his gaze fixed on the divine mystery, the one omnipresent spirit? Or was it a look of recognition of that ancient spirit, of his contacts with those teeming crowds that had contacted him through their countless previous lives? And, was that smile of reunion pregnant with his joy of their future possibility of reaching the spiritual summit? Or was he just oblivious of all this, lost in his ceaseless contemplation of the one spirit, in his at-one-ment? And is the mysterious Monolisa-smile a manifestation of that peace which passeth understanding? Or is there a possibility that at a higher level of consciousness all these attitudes could coexist without the one interrupting the other?”
This last thought flashed with a particular intensity and my spirit leapt forth to comprehend how, in that state, he was viewing all this existence: “Is the universe of myriad forms an image projected in his consciousness? And am I, then, too, a thought in his Mind and are all these my thoughts parts of it?” The intuition took off and wafted my being into far-off states. I knew of nothing else. My being was still, taut with a particular illumination and my thoughts were both existent and non-existent. I am aware how absurd these words must look to anyone. But what else can they be when I verbalize what cannot be conveyed?
Quite some time lapsed in that timeless moment and I was knocked back into normal awareness by what then felt to me like a rude knocking on my shoulders. It was then that I realized that I was seated and that my eyes were shut, that my cheeks were wet with half-dried tears. The shrine was quite noisy and crowded. I saw my brother patting me gently and asking, “You are still seated here! Had your bath and breakfast? It’s almost lunch time. It’s better to finish our lunch.” His words were quite audible but I found it hard to catch the sense, as though I was abruptly awakened from deep sleep. It was quite disturbing even to endeavour to understand the words and still more to respond, the spirit being totally unwilling to be called out from the heart of peace. It was much easier to just obey what he said. It was nearly four hours since I stepped into the shrine which was getting crowded as the time for noon aarti was nearing and the devotees were queing up for finishing abhishek! We walked down to the dining hall but to me it was as though the walk were just a vivid reverie. My mind was all set on sinking back into the state of peace and bliss from which it was roused and with which the connection was not yet completely snapped. It was quite a task to pay particular attention to things and persons.
This mood was persistent and had never quite left me during the brief stay of two days at Shirdi. Perhaps my brother had found out that something unusual was happening to me. “You may go over here again later if you want to, but now we have to go back!” he said. And we were back.
The significant thing, as I see it now in retrospect, is that the spiritual connection with that deeper level of being, continued for months after our return from Shirdi. My mind, when it now and then relapsed into normal awareness, quite instinctively identified that deeper level of Being with Baba. Mostly I was in a continuous state of ineffable peace and quiet and the normal activities of the day were powerless to interrupt it. Days passed as a continuous moment of timelessness; it was as though all things around, including my body, were all parts of a whole which is conscious and aware. Whenever the world around had plucked me into the every day reality, my spirit, once again, at the earliest possible, was summoned back to its pristine state by the vivid appearance of the marble image at Shirdi before my mind’s eye. And then objects and creatures all around would seem to be crystallizations of a pervasive consciousness.
This experience was accompanied by a remarkable change in my physical constitution. My lean frame got filled in with flesh to robustness and I was brimming with energy which was not lowered by late hours of reading at night or by missing my meal now and then. There was a strong urge to walk and walk, almost endlessly, through most of the day and I was not tired. My mind was engrossed in the blissful peace and was not stirred by the traffic on the road. My mind, too, seemed to have grown unusually penetrating. For, the most vexatious of meta-physical questions got cleared in a wink and there seemed practically nothing which it could not comprehend. Often knowledge concerning my friends who were far off, or of the thoughts that passed through my associates’ minds broke in and then I was no less surprised at it than they. Strangely enough, the pervasive peace was shared by all those around me. It was definite that my life turned a corner. The steady current of this experience has ever continued, sometimes quite vivid and sometimes a little less so."
From that day forward, Master’s life became a continuous offering at the feet of his Guru. He traveled extensively, met great saints across traditions, and immersed himself in the spreading the essence of sacred texts and the lives of Realized Souls. What emerged was something rare and precious: a vision in which science and spirituality walk hand in hand, in which devotion and intellect support each other, and in which the apparent differences between religions dissolve in the light of the one Divine Reality.
His writings are not mere books; they are living transmissions of grace. In Sai Baba the Master (the English rendering of his Telugu classic Sri Sai Leelamrutham), he unveils the leelas of Sri Sai Baba with such depth and reverence that the reader feels drawn into the very presence of the Guru. Through Sri Guru Charitra, he opens the door to the eternal Dattatreya tradition, showing how the Guru’s grace flows across centuries to those who approach with sincere longing. In works such as Edi Nijam, Matham Enduku, and Vignana Veechikalu, he gently yet powerfully demonstrates that the existence of God and the necessity of a Sadguru can be understood even through the lens of modern reason—making the spiritual path accessible to the sincere seeker of any background.
Master’s greatness lay in this beautiful integration. He did not ask anyone to abandon their tradition; he revealed how every sincere path ultimately leads to the same Supreme. He showed that the entire universe is the form of the Guru, and that by recognizing this truth, one naturally lives a life of love, righteousness, and inner freedom. Devotees who sat with him experienced not only profound teachings but the tangible grace that healed, uplifted, and transformed. Even after he attained Mahasamadhi in 1989, that same grace continues to flow through his writings and through the hearts of those who turn to him with faith.
To read Acharya Bharadwaja’s works is to sit at the feet of a true Master. Page after page carries the fragrance of his realization and the compassion of his heart. Those who approach these books with reverence find their own understanding deepening, their devotion strengthening, and their lives becoming more harmonious and purposeful. His message is not confined to any one community or country—it is a universal call to recognize the Divine in all beings and to live in that awareness.
As his teachings continue to reach new hearts across languages and lands, they carry forward the same light that once shone so brightly through his physical presence. Every sincere reader becomes, in their own way, a bearer of this light. By immersing ourselves in his writings and sharing them with others who are ready, we participate in the sacred work he dedicated his life to—the awakening of humanity to its own divine nature.
May the grace of Acharya Sri Ekkirala Bharadwaja and his beloved Guru, Sri Shirdi Sai Baba, continue to guide, protect, and illumine all who seek.
Jai Sai Master! Jai Sai Baba!
