In the Presence of Divine - Vol 2 - Chapter 3 - Pranthyangarai Padmasini

5. Pranthiyankarai Padmasini1 I had a tumour in my right breast. My husband seems to have mentioned to Periyava that I was to be operated. I did not know about it. When I went for the check-up at VHS, Dr. Murali said that the tumor had vanished. “The tumour is not be seen!” he said. He prescribed a couple of medicines and said that we could let things be as they were, for then. Janakiraman‟s wife had her cataract operation there at that time. I used carry coffee and Horlicks to her, for they are our people, after all. At about that time, we had gone on a pilgrimage, my husband and I – to Badrinath and other places. We were in the Rameswaram2, when my husband remarked to someone in a casual tone, “We have been to all these places . . . now if have Periyava‟s darśan, our pilgrimage will be completed!” The next day after leaving our travel-stained clothes at home, we refreshed ourselves and went to Periyava‟s presence in Thenampakkam. Janakiraman‟s son was there too. Periyava was on the other side of the well. Only the three of us were there with Periyava, no one else. “Operation . . .” I ventured to speak. Periyava gestured to me to keep calm when I ventured to speak as if to say that he knew all. “So he (the doctor) said there was no need for the operation, did he?” asked Periyava. Then placing his hand on himself, he said, “It is gone. There is no need of the operation.” Periyava then turned towards my husband and said, “So the pilgrimage now comes to a finish! Is that so?” No one could have carried my husband‟s casual remark from Rameswaram to Kanchipuram. The two of us sat on the steps of the water-tank and wept, thinking of his grace upon us. Periyava asked us a number of questions about our pilgrimage. The tumor seems to be there even now –I know it . . . sometimes when I try to lift children. I take no medicines. It does not bother me and I have not consulted a doctor about it. I have been living with it– but it has lost its force. Early one morning Periyava said to his attendant, “Do you know? Some people come to me as a couple with deep devotion. Let me tell you who they are. . . As for some couples, only the lady is known, not the husband.” We could guess that meant Nagalakshmi. “In some the husband is wellknown, not the wife, but there is one couple that comes to see me. Neither of them has a name. They are both known as „Pranthiyankarai‟.” He knew of course that my husband and I were seated there among the devotees. We were known by the name of our native village. This was some fun he had early in the morning. One day there was a huge crowd of devotees from Andhra going to Sabrimala that had come for Periyava‟s darśan. Such a big crowd it was. „Now what kind of a headache is this‟ I thought to myself, because I could not get closer. None of them knew Tamil. Periyava was holding a small conch shell in his hand. “Can anyone have this gilded with gold, for me?”3 Periyava spoke directly without the attendant conveying the words to the devotees. There was no one there who knew Tamil so I was convinced that the words were directed towards me. “By Periyava‟s grace, I shall be blessed to do it” I said. 1

This narratives has been compiled on several occasions most of which is in the You-tube version; the translation incorporates others also 2 Rameswaram is the traditionally the last halt of the pilgrim‟s itinerary. 3 Conch shells gilded with silver or gold on its spout and round its edges, is used to pour milk, honey, and other such liquids on the deity as part of the ritualistic worship

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Mouli brought the small conch shell to me- it was so small, like a „paaladai‟4 and I said, „Keep it safely inside, with you. I shall take it when I leave. It may be break, or else. I shall ask Joshi to do it for me‟. Periyava knew of course what I could afford. Had it been a big conch-shell needing ten sovereigns of gold, that would have been beyond me. The next morning when Periyava went for the holy dip at Sarvathirtha tank - it was a Tuesday- I went behind him as was the wont of several devotees when he did so. Suddenly he turned towards me and said, “You need not help me, getting the conch gilded!” I did say anything in reply. Later in the day, in the afternoon, Periyava was sitting in a relaxed manner, with his legs stretched out. Only Vedapuri was in attendance. I went forward, quite close, and prostrated to Periyava, removed a gold bangle from my hand and placing it on the bamboo plate in front of him said, “If Periyava bestows his grace upon me I shall go to Madras and get the conch gilded.” “Why! Is the sun mild now? No, you need not go back in this heat. Stay here. Joshi is coming here tomorrow in the morning. Take your bangle and wear it, go on.” So I stayed on. The next morning, Joshi arrived. I told him that Periyava said had told me that he would come that morning. Joshi was thrilled to hear this. “Oh, did Periyava say so! Even I did not know that I was coming here till the boy who brings the bundle of leaves5 brought them this morning.” I told Joshi about gilding the conch shell. “Bring it with you to Madras. I going to different places from here and it might break if I carry it about everywhere.” Actually the conch needed only a small portion from my bangle. The rest had to be offered to Periyava. So I had three thirumāñgalyams of the Vaishnavite tradition made, and offered them to Periyava. Usually two arādhanas come one after another- before and after Śivarātri6. Two of Periyava‟s immediate Gurus passed away one after another in quick succession, didn‟t they? I usually went for the second one, would stay on, watch the celebrations, eat prasada and only then return. Periyava was then camping in some place . . . do not remember the name of the place . . . it was a temple. M.S.Subbulakshmi and the others were there and there was a music concert. Pollachi Mami was there too. Later on devotees began to leave. Periyava completed his puja and went into a mantapa7 for his bhikṣa. A thick canvas screen was hung all around it. I sat close to the screen, on the steps, with my ear against the screen. I sat there to receive the breeze that had touched Periyava upon me. Appakutty Sastri‟s son had come there, carrying Periyava‟s bhikṣa in a basket. Balu was also there. My hands were held together in salutation, and I sat there hoping to hear Periyava‟s voice when he spoke. I could hear footsteps. 4

Tiny oval shaped bowl- about the length of the small finger- with a spout, somewhat in the shape of Aladdin‟s lamp, used traditionally to feed newborns 5 Shorea robusta, leaves of sal tree for personal use by Periyava 6 Also Mahā Śivarātri, lit.‟the great night of Śiva; falls on the fourteenth day of the waning fornight of Magha month (January-February) widely celebrated in temples and in homes, with fasting during the day and an all-night-vigillistening to Śiva-purāṇa and ritualistic worship 7 open, stone-pillared hall

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Balu was there. I could hear people moving about. I then heard Periyava‟s voice very close to the screen, almost as if his lips were against it. No matter how thick the screen, one can make out the movements on the other side, after all. In a loud voice Periyava said „Om! Om!‟ I heard his voice loudly, in my right ear. I heard someone ask him “What is it, Periyava?” Ekambaram, I think. Noticing Periyava near the screen he wanted to know what the matter was. Periyava‟s voice came in reply, “Nothing . . . I was saying „The wife of Om is Uma‟ that is all . . . you get along . . .” I heard Periyava‟s voice so clearly, saying „Om . . . Om‟. I am not worthy of such grace at all. Nor do I know anything. Perhaps because I am an ignoramus, Periyava considered that itself to be my qualification. Periyava continued to talk about many other matters. I could make out that it was his voice from the other side of the screen. Later Balu piled the prasāda from Periyava‟s bhikṣa into my hands. Of course Periyava‟s attendants will do nothing without his command! I ate nothing else the whole day. I always cooked our meal because that was what Periyava liked. Even Balu would scold us. “There is no one in the world more orthodox then we are. Why do you have to cook here too, in this bush and forest?” There was then this visit in a place in Andhra on an ekādaśi8. . . Three of us, our friend, his wife and I went for darśan, from Hyderabad. We went from place to place looking for Periyava who was on the move . . . Dharmavaram, and then from there to the next place. We would be told that he had just left that day and had moved further on till we finally reached a small place. There too we learnt that he had just left and was in a village nearby. In the course of our journey we saw mango fruit. No other fruit was to be seen in Andhra then. The mangoes were so big, huge and absolutely green . . . but on the inside, such a ripe colour as if saffron had been added to it. I bought two – thirty-five rupees each - because it was ekādaśi and I thought that Periyava would perhaps eat it. The people there said there were no buses to reach the place. Fortunately a horse-cart came along. The cart-man was a Muslim, such a good man he was. „Come along, I will take you to the Swami‟s place‟ he said. So we put our things into the cart and got in. He took us there in no time. When we reached the place we saw Periyava seated on a stone platform under a tree like Dakshinamurti, one leg folded and one hanging down. I broke down and cried without restraint when I saw him. Then I prostrated and offered the two fruits to him. Balu asked us, “How did you come here, such a difficult place to reach . . . all roughed up and tossed about!‟ “We were neither roughed up nor tossed about . . . we came comfortably, by a horse-cart” I said. After a while everyone went away to eat rice uppuma, because it was ekādaśi. Balu and Srikantan were there. I suppose one must not refer to him as „Srikantan‟ now9. In those days I would not eat any cooked food on ekādaśi. So I did not go with the others. Showing the mark of the Vaishnavite mark on the forehead with a gesture – that was how we were identified, my husband and I – it seems Periyava signaled to Srikantan to give me the mango fruit after he had eaten it. Who would have the heart to remove the trace of Periyava‟s fingers on it! Srikantan had probably cut the fruit on the sides into two slices for Periyava‟s bhiksa, leaving out the 8

Eleventh day of the lunar month, that corresponds to a precise phase of the waxing and waning fortnights, thus ekādaśi occurs twice every month; it is considered sacred & fasting is done throughout the day. 9 Sri Srikantan had taken the vows of asceticism when this narrative was recorded and is hence to be referred to as „Swamigal‟.

4 In the Presence of the Divine

middle portion. Periyava had scooped out the pulp from one of the slices and the trace of the four fingers on the fruit was so deep and clear. A few others from that town had come for darsan and they were there too. Sangamesvaram . . . yes, that was the name of the place. . . I remember now. Anyway if I waited then there would be a scuffle for the prasāda with some one or the other complaining that she or he had been left out. So I ate it. The people from that town had brought some milk. By four in the afternoon, Periyava started again and we too came back to take our train to Hyderabad. Even now the trace of the fingers on the fruit is before my eyes . . . even now, even now! We would go for Periyava‟s darśan, wherever he was . . . Yes, anywhere, forest or mountain . . . no matter where he was. (“Tell us about that Kamakshi episode.” „Must I say that again?” „Yes. What you say now is what is going to reach everyone.” “But I am not even good at narrating things . . .” “Never mind. Just speak what you feel. Think of Periyava and . . .” “Yes, yes of course.”)

I had gone for darśan on one such occasion, Periyava was then in Tenampakkam. In the evening I took leave of him. I said “I am going to Kanchipuram and at night shall have darśan of Kamakshi in the silver chariot when the procession comes in front of the Matha.” My husband was returning home the next day. We lived in Madras then. “Where will you stay?‟ “I will stay with the Buttermilk-Grandma”. Do you people know her, the Buttermilk-Grandma? I said, “I shall sleep in the Buttermilk-Grandma‟s room at night and early in the morning leave for Madras. My husband is returning home tomorrow!” So I took leave of Periyava and came to Kanchipuram. Mukkur Varadachariyar had come there after I left. Periyava it seems, said to him,“ Pranthiyankarai – that was my name there - was standing here for long. She generally does not stay on like that. Did she miss her bus? Have you come by car? Can you take her along and drop her in front of the Matha?” Srikantan replied that I had just then boarded the bus and had been waiting because the bus was late that day. “The bus was late, was it?” was Periyava‟s response. I always rested in Buttermilk-Grandma‟s room. So I was with her. At night at about eleven o‟clock, we were all seated outside the Matha on the pyol. A pūrṇakumbha had been placed there. The pot was of copper and was black in colour because it had not been scrubbed for days. It was placed on a copper plate, filled with water, with a coconut on top and with a bunch of dried mango leaves. I was rather upset to see it. It was so shabby. Why such a slip-shod welcome for Periyava, I thought, „Why not a silver pot?‟ Some others were also seated there when the procession of Kamakshi in the silver chariot turned into the street. Suddenly Venkataraman, they called him Bhashyamani Venkataraman, came running and said, “Periyava is coming . . . Periyava! Periyava!” There were shouts of “Where, where . . .?” Everyone was thrilled by this unexpected turn of events. I wanted to know if he was coming via the Market road or from this side. “This way” he said. That was all. I almost ran. It would have been well past midnight. Periyava was walking briskly. Balu and Srikantan were holding a hurricane lamp. In a trice Periyava had covered the distance and

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was at the turning. I reached there and fell down in prostration at his feet, right there, at the other end of the road. Before I could get up Periyava had moved forward. Periyava came up to the chariot, circumambulated it, stood there having Kamakshi‟s darśan for quite some time, accepted the kumkum prasāda which Ramu gave, smeared some of it upon his forehead and then gave the rest to us. Then he turned and walked away down the same road. Ten days later I went for darśan again and stayed on for four days. Then I took leave of Periyava and came to the bus-stand. When I got into the Madras bus and settled myself, I saw Pollachi Jayalakshmi. We were chatting for a while. I told her about the night of the silver chariot procession. “There was this black copper pot readied as pūrṇakumbha with a bunch of dried mango leaves. What does Periyava lack? Why not a silver pot? No one even bothered to give it to Periyava when he came there. It was where it was.” Jayalakshmi stared at me. “Have you gone crazy? When did Periyava come to Kanchipuram on the night of the silver-chariot procession? He was in Thenampakkam. We took leave of him at Thenampakkam and he walked with us towards the bus-stand. Then he turned back into the Thenampakkam road. We followed him again. Srikantan told us that we were in for trouble if we continued to follow them.” In those days they – Nagalakshmi and others – had rented a house at Chinna Kanchipuram. “We offered arati10 and stood for a while watching Periyava. Then we turned back and came to Kanchipuram. How could Periyava have been in Kanchipuram?” “He was here! He circumambulated the silver-chariot and then prasāda was offered to him. He took the kumkum and applied it on his forehead and I too got that . . .” “You are bluffing” said Jayam. “Not at all . . . why! Even Balu and Sri Kantan were with him!” Alright… then . . . How did Balu and Srikantan also come there?” “Why not? If Periyava could come here, could he not make Balu and Srikantan also appear there?” Till the bus reached Madras we quarreled, while I repeated myself and she refused to believe. Even now if you meet her you could ask her and she would probably say, „Oh! She blabbers crazily like that‟!” I first saw Periyava in Sanskrit College11, Chennai, when he camped there. My daughters were small children so I could not stay long. All the same I would go there every day, stand by the side of the path he took and prostrate when he walked down. It was later in Tenampakkam that he made kind enquiries about us and our family. Periyava asked me questions about my native village of Pranthiyankarai. So many, so many little incidents crowd my mind. I do not even know how to speak of them. This happened on the same day that he said „Om.‟ That morning -it was a small village – that place. 10

ceremonial welcome to deities and saints; waving a plate with camphor lit as votive offering or turmeric and lime mixed in water 11 From the end of September 1958 (23-9-1957) to mid-March 1959 (15-3-1959) Periyava camped 211 days at Sanskrit College out of the 538 days he spent in Chennai.

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Periyava was seated, out in the open, in the compound of the village school. There were small benches, the kind you see in village schools, arranged in a circle and Periyava was seated in the middle. It was a particularly hot day. There were many things spread out in offering in front of Periyava. The village-folk had brought it all for him - rice, pulses, groceries and so on. I had a splitting headache since morning that day. So I was very upset that I could not make the most of Periyava‟s darśan with this headache bothering me. There was a lone tree there and only two could sit in its shade. Nagalakshmi was seated there under the tree and of course you could not make her get up. Beside her was a boy. He had come with his parents. Periyava beckoned the boy and as the boy went to him, looked at me. In a trice I occupied the shade that the boy had vacated. “What is this?” Periyava asked the boy pointing to a plate of pulses. “Toor dal!” said the boy. “Oh . . . toor dal is it!” Periyava said, as if he not know what it was. “Toor dal is it? Well . . . you sit right there, beside it” he told the boy! The whole day the boy‟s mother could not stop expressing her joy. “Periyava made my son sit beside him” she said over and over again! How happy she was! She accosted everyone and repeated this, adding that her son would live a blessed life because of this rare grace. What Periyava actually did was something else. He found a spot of shade for me to sit in, besides that boy was a young lad and a bit of sun would not hurt him. It was on a Deepavali day. Periyava started for Kamakshi temple. We followed him. On the way, a mother and daughter – they were Telugu and both were curved waist upward, like the figure of seven – prostrated to Periyava. The lady said that she wanted to make semolina laddus and offer them to all the attendants. When Periyava reached Golla chhatram, he went in and we too followed. Periyava sat on the pyol. The crowd had swelled immensely and the grill-gate was closed to control it. I managed to get in. My husband was left outside. “ Make some semolina laddus” said Periyava. What were we to do? Semolina needs to be roasted and ground before it is ready to be made into laddus. Mouli ran to the Matha and got some cashewnuts. We had to manage somehow. Tirupathi Chellamma, Anantakrishna Sastri‟s daughter - what would she have? She could spare her stove, but even that was a rickety one. We got going somehow. Meanwhile a couple arrived, carrying a pot of milk and plenty of sweet lime. “The ladies are preparing something. Hand over the milk to them” Periyava told them. Appakutty Sastri came in and said, “Add milk to the semolina and then it will easy to shape the mixture into laddus” he said. We did not know this. We only knew the usual method of grinding the semolina, adding heated ghee to it and then making the laddus. Periyava knew this method and so had sent the milk to us. We poured the mixture onto a huge plate, added milk to it and in no time we had arranged a huge pile of beautiful laddus on the plate. Meanwhile the couple who had brought the milk and the fruit had been instructed to peel the sweet lime. Soon they too piled the carpels, with the skin intact, on another big plate. Both plates were placed in front of Periyava. One by one, the devotees went forward, offered their prostrations to Periyava and as instructed by him took one semolina laddu and one carpel of the sweet lime. I was the last in the line. As I took one, Periyava said, “What is it, you want another one for your husband? Go on . . . take another.” I took another laddu for my husband who was outside the chowltry.

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It was in Mahagaon . . . during Deepavali. A native of those parts had come for darśan. Periyava was chatting with him. „What is special in these parts during Deepavali?” “We make poori and srikant” said the man. “What is that?” “Some kind of a concoction of foolish sweetness . . . sour and sweet, of sugar mixed into yogurt . . .” said Balu, who was nearby. “How is it made?” asked Periyava. The man described the recipe in detail. “Good yogurt is drained of all water and then flavored with saffron and then sugar is folded into it . . .” When the man left, Periyava turned to Balu and said, “My boy, you say srikant is foolishly sweet. Even if it is foolishly sweet, he has given it the Lord‟s name12 and here you are, preparing a wonderful sweet and calling it badusha.” Again it was during a Deepavali day,when Periyava was camping in Pandaripur, on the opposite bank of the river. He would give darśan only for an hour every day . . . some kind of divine play it was. We were blessed with his darśan. Then just as we got ready to leave - we did not want to be scolded for lingering on there - when I heard Periyava‟s voice, asking Vedapuri. “Did you give her something? She is going away empty handed.” Vedapuri came running. “Mami,” he called out, “comeback. Don‟t go away empty-handed.” “Give me something from here” I said, pointing to the pile of fruits. “No, not this… you don‟t know, I will be taken to task” he replied. Through the window I could see Periyava‟s hands, scooping laddu generously and piling it onto a leaf, which he put into Vedapuri‟s hand. It was Periyava‟s will to give darśan only for an hour every day. I made no effort to peep and steal a darśan. We knew he was there and he knew we were here. But all the same we followed the rules of the game. I heard Periyava asking Vedapuri, “Where is the capsicum that someone brought this morning?” (The narrator laughs.) Capsicum in the middle of all that dispassion! “Get her to cut it into small pieces, sauté it in a drop of ghee tempered with mustard . . . and what have you cooked today?” “Lemon rice and sambar” said Vedapuri. Now God alone knows what kind of combination that was! “Tell her to serve food to the others and also to eat here. She may stay on today. She need no go.” I was transported with joy when I heard these words, because Periyava had said that I could stay there the whole day.

A gentleman once brought a huge bundle of complementary copies of Śivapurāṇam13 to offer it to the devotees in Periyava‟s presence. Periyava noticed the peculiarity in spelling in a particular 12

Lit. „poison-neck‟; refers to Lord Śiva who drank the poison when it rose from the ocean when churned for nectar; it is said that his divine consort Pārvati, placed her hand on Śiva‟s neck and stopped it there, preventing it from being swallowed and hence the name. In the sanctum sanctorum of the temple at Suruttupalli, 55 kilo-meters from Chennai, in the Chitoor district of Andhra Pradesh, one can see Pallikondeesvara (Isvara reclining) Śiva, lying down with his head on Parvati‟s lap, after consuming the poison. The temple was renovated at Periyava‟s behest and he also had excavations done in the temple precints to show its links with the Ramayana, when he camped there in 1971.

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line and asked “What is this pūdāi? Have you not heard the idiom, „pullu pūṇdu14‟? Now sit there and insert the missing „iṇ‟ in all the copies and then give it everyone.” The poor man sat in a corner and did so and we had a good laugh. Such a huge bundle of copies it was! The elder one of my granddaughters was with me when I once went for darśan. She is very devoted to Periyava. Yesterday I spoke to her in skype. I have given her pictures of Periyava. She tells me that she talks to him and tells him all that she does every day. Today they are in Nepal, visiting Pasupatinath. When I had once gone for darśan with this granddaughter of mine - the one I mentioned now - it was midday . . . somewhere near Vellore, I think. The camp was in a school. Balu, Srikantan and the others had gone away, they must have been hungry or sleepy . . . poor children . . . how hard they worked! My granddaughter and I were enjoying Periyava‟s darśan. I chanted a verse invoking refuge at the gracious feet of the Lord. Periyava was seated with his legs folded on his mat, on the floor. Even as I chanted the line invoking refuge at the feet of the Lord, Periyava put up one of his legs in a flash of a moment, right up as if it were a pole that was held up, straight up, vertically, in an impossible posture, one leg folded and the other straight up. My granddaughter who was a small girl then began to shake and blabber in fear. I too was stunned. “Don‟t close your eyes, don‟t be afraid . . . look at Periyava, don‟t close your eyes” I said to the child. I cannot forget that scene at all. Even now the memory fills me with horripulation, Periyava sat in an impossible position. People talk about hatayoga15and so on… I know nothing of that at all. I reassured my granddaughter amidst my own fear . . . see, even now I have horripulations all over when I remember that incident! It was in Hampi that we enjoyed the most of Periyava‟s presence. . . throughout the day. During the day I would fills pots of water from the pond nearby. I would pour it all around the mantapa to cool the place, because it was so hot and Periyava was camping there. Periyava stayed in the basement of the temple which was a cave-like structure. We, the ladies, were not allowed to go down the steps to the basement after sunset. So he would come up and sit in the Vidyaranya16 cave within our sight. He could not bear the restrictions he had imposed on us. But during the day we 13

pullāki, pūṇdāi, puḷuvāi, maramāki, pala virukamāki pravayāi, pāmpāki, kallāi , manitarāi, peyāi, gaṇangaḷāi, val asurarāki, munivarāi, devarāi, cellā nindra ithatāvara jaṇgamatul, ellā pirappum piranthu ilaithen yem perumāne.

Grass, shrub, worm, tree, Of every kind of beast, bird, snake, Stone, man, and demon, as the hosts of thine entourage, Mighty titans, ascetics, gods, In all these immobile and mobile forms of life, In every species was I born and have grown weary, O my Lord Supreme! (26-31) Composed by Mānickavācakar / Mānivācakar: 9th century [along with Tirunāvukkarasar or Appar, Tirujñānacampantar,and Cuntaramūrti Nāyanār constitutes the quartet of the principal Śaivite Nayanmārs; their mystic verses or lyrics of devotion are known as Tevāram or „a Garland for God‟]; Śivapurāṇam is in the opening section of the Tiruvācakam or Sacred Utterances, which is the eighth of the twelve sacred books of the Śaiva canonical literature in Tamil collectively known as Tirumurai that includes including the Tevāram, Tiruvācakam, Tirumantiram (3000 esoteric verses by the saint Tirumūlar) and Periyapurāṇam. 14 Grass and shrub 15 One of the kinds of yoga that trains the body and breath through regulated excercises 16 1268-1386;a multifaceted, saintly genius who promoted Vedic learning and who founded the Vijayanagara empire

9 VOl II- Article No.4 – Pranthyankarai Padmasini

could go down the steps. All throughout the day I would simply sit there, or cool the place with pots of water. Periyava would sit in the Vidyaranya cave so that we too could have darśan. Now and then he would ask my husband, “Are the womenfolk here?” “Yes” my husband would reply. Only three of us would be there. Nagalakshmi, Tenali Sitamma and myself. Just the three of us. “Now why this mouna17? Why this mouna?” Tenali Sitamma would say this over and over again. If Periyava was in mouna, she would take the life out of us, saying this over and over again. You know Tenali Sitamma, she would be writing all the time18. There is no one even to listen to all that I have to say and I have forgotten so much. It was in Mahagaon, on a pradoṣa day. Srikantan told us that Periyava was coming to the window at the end of the building. Have you been there? To Mahagaon? The place had two windows, one on either end. Again only Nagalakshmi and I were there and a few residents of the place who left after a while. They did not know the significance of the day perhaps. None of our people were there. So we moved to the other side. Periyava came out. There was a string of vilva upon his head, just one single strand. If he were to throw it, surely Nagalakshmi would take it and not give it to me. You cannot hold that against her. They have known Periyava from those days and were so dedicated in service to him. But what exactly happened and how he did it we do not know… he took off the string of vilva off his head and flung it towards us. It fell upon us, in two bits, one for each! How it happened, we do not know. It fell on us in two exact halves! At Hampi, every morning we would wait for Periyava to bathe in the pond and then take a dip ourselves in the sanctified waters. One day my husband said, “Why stand shabbily like this till Periyava bathes! Let us be ready before he comes.” I did not want to disagree, then that would lead to an argument. So we had a dip in the river. No sooner had we done so, Periyava appeared at the bathing-ghat. We all but ran to where we were put up, got ready and rushed back. By then Periyava had finished his bath, besmeared himself with sacred ash and had begun his anuṣtāna. I was quite upset because the blessed chance of purifying myself with the water consecrated by his divine form was lost that day. Periyava completed his anuṣtāna. Then he got up. It is not enough that we call him „Compassion Incarnate‟ just once. He came to the steps. Water would flow here and there . . . on top of the mantapa also. The floor around the temple had crevices all over and stones were loose, making bumps and tiny pits. It was in an awful state altogether. He sat down and put his foot into a big crevice and picking up his ghata poured the water on his foot as if consecrating it, with a flash of a glance at me. Just a flash of a glance, that is all. No sooner did he leave, I rushed to the spot, scooped up the water, drank it, sprinkled it upon my head, upon myself, all over . . . it was a bath almost . . . second time. Whenever I went for darśan to his camp I would prepare yogurt and take it in a lidded pail to offer to him. “Have you brought yogurt” Periyava would ask. 17

silence, eschewing all speech; Periyava often observed kāṣta mouna wherein gestures, responses and even mental cognition is eschewed; a state of total involution, amidst life-events 18 Scribing the divine name, like chanting it

10 In the Presence of the Divine

As for my husband. . . Oh ! He never would go near Periyava. Only I would, like a fearless child. My husband would chide me “What is our qualification to stand beside him? He would come close only if Periyava himself called him, asked him something or gave him some work to do. Or else, he would stand there . . . so far away!” (How is it, being Vaiṣnavites you were drawn to Periyava? Did Periyava ever say anything about it?) “Never. He never said anything about this. He never told us that we should sport the sacred ash and not the nāmam19. Actually he would ask my husband, “Why! When you go to see your Swamigal will you go with just one nāmam? Have you decided that one is enough for me? You must wear all the twelve.” My husband would actually sit in a corner and wear all the twelve marks on his person if they were rubbed off in travel - before he stood in Periyava‟s presence. Periyava would place three fingers vertically on his own forehead to refer to us. Periyava asked us if we had gone through the ritual of bharanyāsa 20 with our Acārya, of the Ahobila Maṭha. My husband decided that the salvation assured by the traditional ritual of surrender to one‟s Acārya was not needed if it meant not seeing Periyava. „We don‟t want the salvation that will deny us Periyava‟s darśan‟, my husband would say. “Have you performed bharanyāsa?” “No we haven‟t” said my husband. “Why not?‟ “Once we go through the ritual of surrender then we may be told not to go elsewhere. That is why. If we are told not to go anywhere else and we do, we will incur the sin of disobeying the Acārya.” “You will not be instructed so. Do not give up your tradition. Go and get it done.‟ Luckily for us, the Pontiff of Ahobila Maṭha was camping in Madras then. We went to him and in a couple of days went through the ritual. The very next day we rushed back to Periyava. “Did he say anything?” “No, nothing at all.” “I told you so” said Periyava and turning to someone nearby said, “He said that he did not want salvation if it meant not seeing me” and laughed. At Thenampakkam he would not allow anyone to go into his room. He would sweep it himself, clean it himself and fill the ghaṭas with water –he did it all by himself. There was a windowlike aperture in the wall, a counter, through which he would throw out his ochre cloth for wash. Bhikṣa would also be given through this window. I would hold out the end of my saree and he would drop the trash –dry leaves or flowers- into it. Then like giving a child something, lovingly he would give me string of threaded flowers, which he would have kept aside. All the flowers and fruits that were offered would be distributed then and there. But he always had a string of flowers for me when I held out my cloth to collect the trash which I would carry and throw away.

19

Twelve sacred marks worn by the Vaishanvite upon his body, to the chanting of twelve names of Vishnu Lit. weight-placing; to place the burden of one‟s self at the feet of one‟s Achārya who will from then on be responsible for the merits and demerits accrued by the one who surrenders thus; a final step in the Śrī Vaishnavite passage towards God-head, the devotee thenceforth is advised to visit any other Master, especially an Advatin monk. 20

11 VOl II- Article No.4 – Pranthyankarai Padmasini

Again it was at Thenampakkam . . . during Gokulaṣtami21. Periyava had gone to the thatched shed22. Srikantan called me and said „Mami! Periyava has gone to the thatched shed. You can come in and draw Krishna‟s feet23 in five minutes and then run out. Anyway, I have locked the door to the thatched shed . . .” As if Periyava cannot come through a locked door! I went in and drew tiny feet . . . so tiny . . . it came out so beautifully that day. . . all the way from the door of the thatched shed to the kitchen, to the puja room, here and there in a haphazard way, all over the place, like a child running about, and then came out as quickly as I could. Periyava came out of the thatched shed and picking up his ochre cloth which was already quite high, placed his feet on those that I had drawn, one by one and walked towards his room. I was outside drawing kolam24 and glanced through the window. Periyava bent down and looked at me through the window. . . he was Krishna it seems . . . walking on the feet I had drawn. Even now when we draw Krishna‟s feet during Gokulastami, the scene is fresh before my eyes . . . so many years have passed . . . and yet the scene is fresh before my eyes. This was when Periyava was in Maharastra. „He has been reading the Hanuman Chalisa25 over and over again. Now the book is in tatters and also lost somewhere‟ someone said. When we came back to Madras I bought a copy of Hanuman Chalisa, had it bound well and packed it with my things to take along when we went back for darśan. As if Periyava needed a book to read from! Is he different from Anjaneya26? But I did not think too much. I don‟t know much. This is what I am. So I placed the book in front of Periyava. „For whom? Periyava asked through gestures. “For Periyava” I replied. A smile played upon his face. After bhikṣa Periyava picked up the book and holding it straight in front of his face began to read it with obvious concentration. I called my husband. “Look!” I said. “Periyava is reading the book!” My husband chided me “Why, what madness! Getting a book for Periyava!” As far as I was concerned the only thing that mattered to me was that Periyava‟s book had become tattered and I had to replace it. That was all! “Do you know one Subramania Sastri from Pranthiyankarai?” Periyava asked my husband. “Yes… his father was my father‟s friend . . .” “How would you address him?” “We called him Chuppini . . .” “Will you be able to recognize him if you saw him now?” I shook my head in the negative. “I cannot . . .”

21

Eighth day of the waning fornight in the month of Avani (August-September), when Krishna was born at midnight A make-shift private place; euphemism to suggest ablutions and/or cleansing oneself 23 Tiny feet drawn with rice powder from the threshold to the altar, symbolizing the entry of Sri Krishna , into the house, where he is held to manifest himself on the day of his birth. 24 Patterns /sign of auspiciousness, drawn with rice powder at the threshold of the house 25 A hymn of 40 lines in praise of Hanuman by GoswamiTulasidas. 26 Hanuman, son of Anjana, the deity to whom the hymn is addressed. 22

12 In the Presence of the Divine

Pranthiyankarai Subramania Satri was seated there among the devotees. We did not know that. There was mutual recognition and enquiries and meeting again in Periyava‟s presence after so many years, we chatted a while about our village and the news from there. As far as I was concerned it was a chance to see Periyava for some more time. That was all I knew. I never understood who or what Periyava was or analyzed my qualification to be there in front of him. The only thing that mattered was to go on looking at him. When we first came to Thiruvannamalai, about seven years ago, I used to visit Ramanashram. Now I do not go anywhere. I spend the day talking to Periyava, crazy as it may seem. Periyava alone is enough for me. It is not as if Periyava is not there. Earlier he was in one place, now he is in all places, that‟s all. In the morning I chant some slokās, in the evening I write „Ramajayam‟ and I spend the day with Periyava. You could see his pictures everywhere in our home in Madras, wherever you turn, those that he gave me himself, holding it on his lap for a while and gently stroking the picture with his hand. “Do you know where it was taken? In the Kumbakonam Matha, in the garden in the backyard” he would say. Periyava is enough for me. We never thought of asking Periyava for anything, not that we did not want anything. We just did not know. If we needed money it came somehow at the right time. Once we had money the only thing that mattered was to rush to Periyava. That was all we knew. My left foot was once so swollen, I feared a filarial infection. The doctor assured me that it was not but also told me that it would stay on like that. When I next went to Periyava, I waited till everyone moved away after the daily reading of the almanac in the morning and in the opening between the thatch, thrust my foot and said “ My foot has become like this.” Periyava looked at it and gestured to say that it was nothing. By evening it was gone without a trace, no medicines, nothing. He simply glanced at my foot. I did not have the capacity even to appreciate that. What did it matter if the body had a little swelling somewhere? It is our ignorance, that makes much of it. Balu would scold us if we lingered on, after Periyava had his bhiksa. “Go away” he would say. “If you ladies stay on Periyava will not relax!” But Jayalakshmi and I would not budge. “May be we were calves when Periyava was Krishna. That is why we are drawn to him now” she said. “May be were little monkeys when he was Rama”, I said. “The monkey babies would run up to Rama and not knowing that he was the Lord incarnate, jump upon him, climb all over and play with him, not knowing any fear. We are like that. Don‟t insects and worms crawl on the earth around Periyava? We are no better. We go to him in the same way.” We were searching for a good alliance for my elder daughter, who was in college then. We went to Periyava who was in Andhra, in Rajahmundry. It was a big hall. Such a huge hall it was, bigger than this house . . . and plates piled with fruit, offerings of all kind lay in massive piles before him. How could we go near him? The place was full of big shots. But that is Periyava!. Flood the place with the best of offerings and he will call the person who places two bananas on a dried leaf. It would be typical of Periyava to go straight to a old man in an obscure corner, whom we may have thought of as a non-entity.

13 VOl II- Article No.4 – Pranthyankarai Padmasini

Periyava spotted us and beckoned us close. At once everyone made way for us. We went up and submitted the matter to him. He rejected them forthright. “No!” he said emphatically “Not these!” without so much as a glance at them. “Another will come . . . you may accept that.” We offered the few withered fruits we had taken along . . . we would feel shy to make such an offering in that assembly. But it does not matter, because Periyava knows our heart. Then we followed up with another that came. It was a good alliance and my daughter was married off well. Later after the wedding took place, we went to Periyava, who was then camping in Hyderabad. It was during Vinayaka caturti27 celebrations. A huge idol of Ganesha was placed there. A little behind Periyava, Pudu Periyava was seated and the place was full of ascetics. A learned assembly, it seemed and some explication of texts was going on. Periyava spotted us, stopped everything with a gesture and summoned us. All of us prostrated to Periyava and placed our offerings before him. We had taken a huge garland. “Offer it to Pillayar” said Periyava and my husband placed it around the idol himself. My daughter is happy, the children are all fine. They are in America. We have seen Periyava in so many places. I would tie a saree around three bushes and put up a make-shift kitchen and cook our meal on a stove. It was a big garden, somebody‟s garden it was . . . a Minister‟s garden. Soft soil had been dug and piled up like a tiny hill, this high, taller than us. It had hardened and steps had been cut into it. On top, the hill had been flattened and four poles were planted to support a thatched canopy, making for a little shelter. There Periyava was seated on his grass mat28. Only a hurricane-lamp lent light. I had preserved the little clay lamps from the previous camp. I also had some ghee . . . I always carried a few things with me. I readied the lamps and lit them all and then drew a kolam with the rice-flour. My husband plucked same flowers from the garden, put them on a leaf and placed it there. I arranged all the little lamps on the steps. Periyava signaled to Balu to put out the hurricane. We sat and watched Periyava in the light of the small clay lamps. Periyava did his japa and ātma pūja29. We just sat and watched for a very long time. I put my stove between the bushes and cooked rice on my little stove. Balu scolded me as usual. After a while, , a number of devotees came there and they had to be fed. Balu come to my make-shift kitchen between the bushes and asked me, “Do you have some rice at home?” “Plenty” I said and handed over the rice-pot to him, teasing him at the same time, „so you told me not to cook, did you? Here you are!” Balu managed to serve the devotees a meal with this rice and some kozhumbu that he had in his kitchen. People came from so many places. How many places we went to, what joy we had! In Mahagoan, we would spend the whole day in such joy. The evening was, according to Periyava‟s instructions, spent in chanting Viṣnu sahasranāma30 and at night we stayed awake talking about and sharing our experiences with Periyava. Mahagoan was a mart of joy and we laughed so much. 27

Celebrated in honour of Ganesha in the month of Bhaadrapada(August – September) on the fourth day of the waxing moon fortnight 28 Mat woven of Desmostachya bipinnata / Salt reed-grass, endowed with medicinal properties and always used as a seat by Periyava; mentioned in the Ṛg and severally in the Atharva Veda; suggested in the Gita as the seat for meditation; 29 Lit. Worship of the self; Periyava addressed his worship inward to the Self 30 sahasranāma: the thousand names of a deity, Lalitā Sahasranāma and so on; here of Visṇu; chanted widely it occurs in

14 In the Presence of the Divine

It was when Periyava camped in Mahagoan, a gentleman sporting a long beard came – he was an ardent devotee of Hanuman, we learnt – and demanded a room that he could keep under lock and key. Srikantan said, “That is not possible. There is no provision for such things here. You may leave your belongings here and rest assured that they will be just where you leave them!” The man was insistent and aggressive, others joined the scene and gradually the argument came to fisticuffs. The guest knocked Mettur Rajagopal, Raju – now Mettur Swami – with a piece of fire-wood. In retaliation, Rajagopal caught hold of the man‟s long beard and would not let go. Then somehow it was all brought to a close. Later that night, there was a panchayat31. As usual Periyava sat behind his window and heard everything. Finally he said, “All said and done Raju, you should not have caught hold of his beard! Whatever the man may have done, that is not to be counted. We must not retaliate, that is not to be done at all!” There was another gentleman – we referred to him as „Almanac‟. He was forever quoting information about the lunar almanac and solar almanac and making a menace of himself. Srikantan would get wild with him. “Get lost” he said to the gentleman, “with your solar and lunar calculations. We don‟t need all that. Leave Periyava alone. He needs to take his bhikṣa!” Almanac was so offended that he went and reported the matter to the head, the Pontiff of another Maṭha, who is said to have replied, “Is that what they said to you? Then, that Swami deserves to be put behind the bars!” When the matter was reported to Periyava, he said “Why must he trouble himself to put me behind the bars? I have done it to myself!” Periyava did not allow anyone into his room in Mahagoan. Everyone, even Srikantan and Balu, saw him only through the bars of the window. Periyava swept his room himself and filled the ghaṭas himself. Whenever we went to see him I would buy plenty of vilva, a roll of banana fibre and a bottle of water, all packed together in large bag. A little after the train started, I would start weaving the vilva into a long strand, slowly, in an unhurried manner, removing all the sticks and stems, all along the way, till we reached the destination. When I offered it, he would wrap the long strand of vilva all around his body. His hand and his face would glow from the green of the vilva leaves. He would wear it all over, the way he wore rudrakṣa during pradoṣa. Balu would say, “Periyava will catch a cold. She has been sprinkling water frequently on the vilva and covered it with a wet cloth to keep it fresh till she came here. It‟s so very wet. Periyava must take care not to catch a cold!” In reply Periyava would say, “Nothing of the sort is going to happen” and would at times even lie down to rest with the long strand of wet vilva leaves still wrapped around him. I remember all these incidents suddenly, now and then. When we sat in the queue for darśan at the Maṭha, the others would crowd around me and say, “Mami, tell us some stories about Periyava” and I would tell them so many. Today when you have all come here to listen to me talking about Periyava, it seems like a beautiful dream. I forget so much and who has time to listen, anyway? But I remember Periyava always and live with him alone. ****************************************************

31

the Mahābharata in the context of Bhisma‟s vision in the final moments of his life, of Krṣṇa as Narāyana Local assembly of elders functioning as court and administrative office for the village

15 VOl II- Article No.4 – Pranthyankarai Padmasini