Restoring Vision For The Blind Lady (Grace and Bhakti)

Restoring Vision For The Blind Lady

1963, it was during the month of Asviyuja (September).  In Tiruchirappalli the Kanchi Kamakoti Swamis (Sri Chandrasekharendra Saraswathi and Sri Jayendra Saraswathi) were conducting the Navaratri festival celebrations. 

There were spacious pandals specially erected for the thousands of thronging devotees. During those nine days Sri Paramacharya was observing the diksha and he was conducting all the scheduled events with close personal supervision. Not only that, the Swami had cancelled all special visits and interviews during the nine-day festival. (It was a rare occasion solely meant for the common devotee - man and woman.)

Among the devotees there was one ninety-year-old lady. Besides the advanced crippling old age, she was also blind. The lady had been fasting for three days. She had come trekking all the way from a twenty-mile distance solely to see Sri Paramacharya (the elder Swami). 

Other than uttering “Sivaa Sivaa, Hara Haraa” she would not speak at all. Did not ask for any food. Foremost she wanted to get a ‘darsan’ of the Swami – thus she kept on muttering. All (the people) kept on wondering whether it was possible; the Swami had gone into the Navaratri diksha, forswearing interviews or special ‘darsan’, etc.

Yet, one of the devotees got an idea. From the room, Sri Paramacharya used to come out once or twice breaking his self-imposed isolation. Thus thinking the devotee gently helped her settle near the exit door. There she sat and continued chanting ‘Siva-Sivaa, Hara-Haraa’. That was her stubborn act; now no one would disturb her. That was her pure devotion. Now, paradoxically hundreds of other devotees too crowded around her with the faint hope of seeing Sri Paramacharya.

Later inadvertently one of Swami’s close associates (a disciple) opened the door and observed the meditating lady bhakta, leaning against the doorway. The assembled crowd slowly narrated her story. The disciple rushed inside and communicated the matter to the Swami.

At noon Paramacharya was about go to the Puja-mandir and then suddenly turned back upon hearing about the fasting lady. The Swami opened the (back) door and came out to meet the waiting lady. There Sri Paramacharya saw the chanting lady waiting in the red-hot burning midday sun.

“What, grandmother! I’ve come to see you. How long have you been sitting here?” Thus spoke endearingly the Swami to the lady in Tamil.

The crowd came to her help, as she was also hard of hearing. They repeated Swami’s words into her ears. Hearing those words, the grand lady started speaking loudly, 

“Have you come, my Deva! Have you come, my father, to bless me? Please stand in front of me, I’ve to pay respects (prostrate) to your feet.” So she said in Tamil.

“Grandma, you don’t have vision. How will you see me?”

“At least, I can hear your words if you come near.”

“Not like that. You do what I say.” Said Paramacharya to her.

He made her stand in the sun a little farther. The Swami did perambulation around her. During that encircling process He stopped at each of the eight directions and kept on asking her thus: “Am I visible to you? Are you able to see me?”

“Yes, Yes. I am able to see your saffron robe. Your staff is visible…” And she went on describing sequentially the entire form of Paramacharya. By the time Swami completed the circle, she went on talking, “You look to me as clearly as I had seen you twenty years back. Now also, you appear the same, my father (appa).”

She prostrated and paid respects.

All the persons in the crowd around her were surprised at her – the (blind) lady’s bhakti towards the Guru. They admired Paramacharya’s greatness (and his miraculous power).

(Translated from “Nadichedevudu” – a Telugu work by N. Venkataseshayya)

Copyright 2021 by the author

Meditations on Life - IV

Meditations on Life - IV (Grace)

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” - Soren Kierkegaard

My high school days and the buffer one year course (pre-university) in the college were mostly smooth sailing and uneventful. I was too busy with the studies to be distracted by any extraneous disturbances like cricket or movies. Our loving father looked after all my health, fees, and textbooks; a handsome scholarship helped me through the entire higher education (graduate studies). When I shifted to the coastal city for my bachelor degree I ran into two serious health issues. We were in a hostel with other engineering, polytechnic, and trade (welding, etc.) students. For some reason, father wanted me to be utterly self-sufficient during the formative years. He had his reasons and I came to appreciate his wisdom much later. The hostel food was not great, but enough to keep the students slim, trim, alert, and hungry. I do not know what caused the disturbances in my health. Was it severe malnutrition or some serious deficiency of vitamin D? Within a few months into the first year, I developed serious skin rashes and it later morphed into a severe case of psoriasis. Then, I had no idea about the skin problem – obviously it is an erratic (excited) case of rapid top layer growth and subsequent shedding of scales (dead skin). Though my native place was only about seventy miles away, I could not take a break from my college studies and visit the family. There were the laboratory classes (practicals) and the mandatory NCC (National Cadet Corps) drills. Any interruption of group (science) classes would only create further problems. 

I still remember vividly all the troubles I went through with this physical scourge.  You name it - I did not leave any stone unturned for a suitable cure. I used to stand in the morning sun, soaking up all the rays into the oily melanin. Must have made umpteen trips to the local teaching hospital, to its dermatology department. Sometimes the house surgeon (Intern) prescribed zinc oxide cream and Avil (an antihistamine) tablets. My sister’s physician gave me shots of oil penicillin – it only led to a subcutaneous infection. The local Ayurvedic doctor suggested a blood purifier jam but I could not afford the cost (~Rs.10). Our roommate (commerce student) gave the reference of a Homeopathic doctor. I got the first one week’s dose of pills for free. Again he wanted only ten Rupees for the treatment. Immediately after swallowing a few doses, my skin started healing and the natural tone and glow returned. All the rashes disappeared miraculously. It was a great relief because I could go out without shame, embarrassment, and enjoy social company without timidity. The skin problems put enormous strain on the laundry chores. For additional sanitization I had to utilize hot water and bleach for the clothes washing. Back then there were no washing machines, no geysers, and as ordinary students we used to hand wash most of the time. Dry cleaning was not affordable and anyway it would not have made economic sense – that would be like dry cleaning a one-dollar silk tie now!

Since I could not come up with the finances (what? the measly $ 1.50 back then), I did not keep up with the Homeopathist’s follow up appointment. [To this day, I do not understand how Homeopathy works. This from a person who knows intimately the meaning of Avogadro’s number!] And sure enough, the rashes and all the associated pain returned with vengeance. Obviously it is a serious autoimmune disease and needs proper care, management, and cure. But nothing seemed to work and there was no elderly supervision. My sister tried to help but she was busy with her own family and two little children. Though I had a good grounding in bhakti (due to mother), without a guru I was unmoored, like a boat without rudder. I remember visiting the local temple several times praying silently – though coupled a bit with skepticism and rationality. Then suddenly one day another hostel mate made a suggestion: “Why don’t you come to our village this Sunday? Our Ayurvedic doctor dispenses free medicine to the first hundred-fifty patients.” Immediately I borrowed a bicycle and went to Sarpavaram in search of the doctor, my savior. When I went there, already there were about sixty people ahead of me. I was anxious, thinking about my chances. Finally the doctor asked only one question: “What is troubling you?” As he glanced at my face, neck, and hands, he understood the ailment. Quickly he made little packets with brown medicinal powder and handed me the doses for a ten-day course, instructing me thus: “Take it twice a day with warm (boiled) water.” That was all the diagnosis, treatment, and cure. Absolutely free medicine dispensation with no consultation fee. 

With spirits high I peddled swiftly to our hostel through the highway covered with tamarind and cashew trees. Now in a hostel that caters to seventy, eighty students and their two meals a day, who has the time for a glass of warm water for one individual? (Of course, it was different at the Institute. There, our kind mess server would bring to the room a glass of hot milk and toast for the sick inmates.) I had to beg the cook and boil a glass of water on the wooden stove – as a side periphery experiment. But I wanted to obey the doctor’s strict guidelines and follow them to the letter. And then the miracle did happen; within a week the psoriasis disappeared totally. There was no trace left on my body and it never relapsed. To this day my gratitude to my roommates, the village doctor (and even the kind Homeopath) knows no bounds. Whenever I look at abundant water in Varanasi, Godavari, or at the great Niagara Falls, whenever I imbibe the beauty of coastal Andhra with its bountiful crops and coconut plantations – often my mind wonders thus: “All this enormous wealthy nature, the crops, technological advances, and abundant water filled rivers – all this must be due to the goodness of many gentle people, it must be due to their generous sacrifices.”

In the second year (sophomore) in college, I again ran into another predicament; it too sapped my energies and joyful spirits. To this day I cannot determine the origin or the real cause. Was it just due to the high humidity or poorly ventilated hostel dorms? I developed a serious itch with rash, suddenly out of nowhere. Very rarely I used to see movies in theaters, at the most two or three in the entire year. But somebody gave it to me, the itch or the mite. Again lots of trips to the OPD and applying smelly (aromatic) lotions. Luckily my roommates were very understanding; nobody would trouble me, as I was very reserved and focused on my studies. I used to shudder the weekly NCC drills. The sailor white uniform only exasperated my delicate situation; every small skin imperfection was a big billboard advertising my rash or blister. The exposed bare lower legs and open arms during Navy exercises only accentuated my troubles. Certainly a resident physician at the college could have helped me, but there was no clinic. Out of nowhere suddenly the cure came to me when I went home on a long weekend. Before I could broach the subject with father, he noticed my disfigured hands. Within twenty-four hours, father approached an elderly gentleman with the issue. The gentleman (Mr. P. S.) had a Khadi store in the front and on the side he free lanced in herbal medicine. 

So, again the following morning I went to Jinnuru for my medicine, taking a leisurely ride along the canal road. I had go through the dense farms and coconut orchards to reach my benefactor’s (doctor’s) residence. He handed me a 4 oz. small bottle with cream-colored powder, with the instruction: “Apply the powder with castor oil and stand in sunlight. Entire body should be covered except eyes.” Thus I got relief from the pesty mite problem – thanks to a generous neighborhood doctor. Now I also fondly remember my father’s resourcefulness. Tyagaraja says in one of his compositions thus: “Rama, you are my great father. కన్న తల్లియు, ఘన తండ్రియు” Good affectionate fathers are rare, but there are such great fathers in this world. Again, in this instance also I received the medicine free of charge. There is much to learn in science, medicine, and life. Copyright 2021 by the author

Meditations on Life III

Meditations on Life (Contd.)

We study history and listen to grand parents’ stories for a reason. Such readings help us develop character and give us a broad perspective on life and the world. Often we tend to confine our thoughts and analyses to our own limited circumstances; and thus unknowingly we dwell too much on our own situation, at times bordering on self-pity. But even in the best of conditions, “life is a predicament (George Santayana)” – you might say it, the essence of “modern diagnosis”.  When we are young, everything and everybody influences us; mostly such an influence acts to our detriment. The Sanskrit quote warns us thus: “Your own intellect will give happiness. The guru’s advice (intellect) will lead to a better path in life. But other’s advice (cf. peer pressure in modern societies) can lead to disaster.” We should keep such ancient words of wisdom close to our hearts and carefully examine (evaluate) them in real life. At least much of the teenage angst (or call it the youth’s crisis/alienation) can be avoided if one has a ‘holistic view’ of the individual experience in the larger context.

I was then in the rural upper elementary school (here it would be middle school). The day started like any other normal day with the morning classes of Telugu, science, and math. But right after the Morning Prayer (or Pledge), the normal routine got suspended for small pox vaccine shot. As per the district health officer’s orders, the entire school need to be inoculated – all the kids with no exception. So, there were peons, teachers, and senior students watching every exit, bathroom, and compound (border) wall. The visiting male nurse rapidly set up his operation on the table in front of us. It was a very sparse setting – a small alcohol lamp, few clean ceramic-coated pots for sterilizing, a pair of rotary lancets, and the vials of vaccine. Some of the children were a bit apprehensive, scared of the vaccination. In those days many children never got any shots (injections) and were protected from doctors, nurses, the accompanying needles, lotions, gauges, and Dettol smelling dressings, etc. Suddenly I was the sacrificial goat from the front row with my outstretched hand for the puncture. He started to ease my fears by asking about breakfast. I sheepishly replied, “Nothing much, just mango pickle, rice, and a little curd.” “That must be yummy!” Before I knew it, he gently scratched the forearm skin with the sharp lancet and administered the vaccine. We’re all advised to keep the two spots dry, away from water. But children are children! And of all the things, itching and scratching are involuntary natural reactions to “dermatological injury”.

Then the painful saga ensued. Some how a crazy idea got into my little mind. It was not mother’s advice. Either one of my classmates or the neighbor’s child planted a strange thought: “Put a bit of cow dung on the spot, rub it, and then wipe it off with top soil. Then wash it thoroughly with soap and water. Then you won’t get any bad reaction like fever or topical scar due to the vaccine.” Of course, who wants fevers or pus filled wounds? Besides children are very keen not to miss school or games with fellow kids. For happy children, there are more things to play than twenty-four hours in a day. So, immediately after coming home I did exactly that and washed the wound after putting all the muck on the spot. Within a day or two I was awfully sick with high fever and sore lesions and blisters on my arm. We’d never know whether I could’ve avoided the serious reaction by adhering to proper hygiene. The subcutaneous injection of small pox vaccine did produce serious adverse reactions in children. Mother did all the prayers, penance, vows, and care. But it took almost two weeks. I was in the bed with fever during the pleasant rainy season, barely surviving on milk. Certainly the divine help came through to pull me out. Even after several weeks I used to apply a coconut paste (made from baby coconut fruit acorns) on the quarter-sized pockmarks to relieve the pain and itching. Many years later I learnt to handle the skin. In most cases the skin heals itself. It needs no medicine other than pure petroleum jelly or oil (coconut, sesame, castor, mustard, or olive). Most interventions (on skin growths) with scalpel, needle, or abrasion will lead to disastrous results. Even the herbal doctor (Tata/Grandfather) of Sri Ramana shed tears at the horrible surgeries done to the great rishi. At least most of the (Maharishi’s) pain and discomfort could have been avoided – so it appears now. 

Why me? Why did I get all the childhood ailments? There is no answer. Perhaps, those were some precious lessons, lessons to instruct me in faith and discover my own “Swa-dharma”. Maybe, it was all part of the search for the Guru.

Our life in the village was hard but our loving parents acted as shock absorbers. They provided us with plenty amidst extreme penury. They hid all the troubles from our eyes. During Diwali festivals father helped us in making firecrackers. At home we fabricated our own stuff with raw ingredients. I still remember storing all the materials under the bed and drying them in the open sun in the front yard. There was one terrible accident involving my eyes. On the new moon day, we put on clean clothes, and gorged on mother’s sweet dishes. In the evening we lighted all our firecracker collection. That means two or three dozens of sparklers, half a dozen spinning wheels, handful of tiny bombs, several flowerpots, and we lit the dark star-studded sky with many rockets. Ideally, that should have satisfied most children. Mother secretly hid some firecrackers for future use, for the coming festivals. 

Next morning when I looked at the street I noticed lots of unexploded firecrackers (ordnance). There was one Lakshmi brand 4-inch bomb looking pitiably at me, telling me, “They did not play with me. See, I got left out!” Immediately after returning from school I hurriedly finished lunch and rushed out into the garden. Daily I used to volunteer for making hot water for the family on wood stove outdoors. The embers were still there hot and I inserted the firecracker (explosive) into the fireplace. As there was no bamboo blower pipe around, I went on blowing air with mouth puffs. Then suddenly, there was a big explosion and my eyes went totally dark. Somehow I walked blindly towards the front porch, crying for mother. We rushed immediately to our local doctor’s (Dr. P. V. Rao) clinic. His quick diagnosis and tight gauge bandage saved my vision. The topical ophthalmic gel cream eventually cleared the aluminum oxide smoke; but I had to anxiously wait till the evening, about four hours counting every minute. By then my tuition master (word had spread at lightning speed in the village) came around to see me. He tested my sight from six feet distance with three out-stretched fingers, teasingly asking me, “How many digits?” 

Now looking back I again humbly pay my gratitude to mother and Lord Subrahmanya Swamy. She was a regular devotee of Lord Kumara Swamy and every year she would observe a fast for Him. After several decades I got a chance to visit Lord Skanda at two sacred hill temples. Grace is like the gravitational pull - always keeping its children close to its bosom.

Meditations on Life

Meditations on Life (Grace Contd.) 

Those were the days of carefree play and stress-free studies. Luckily I developed a longing for studies early on. Yet in the elementary school itself I ran into major setbacks due to lackadaisical schooling or lax discipline. And on top of that we moved from a charter (sort of one room school) parochial school to a village school administered by a rich agrarian district (Zilla-Parishad). Our parents were very well organized with all the routine paper work like TC (Transfer Certificate) and other documents. But when I was taken to the village middle school, the new Head Master refused to admit me into 5th grade as per the TC! I had to take a spot evaluation test – a surprise hurdle. It was very brief; I had to take dictation of fifteen or twenty Telugu words with paper and pencil. I flunked the test. I made a common mistake – the word is “కత్తి పీట” ( త్తి not తై) (A cutting knife with attached wooden plank). I messed up the double consonant sign. I do not remember whether I took any math test. That trouble would come later towards the yearend. So, the Head Master demoted me to one class lower and I was placed in 4th grade. I had to bear this upset for three or four months, till the final (summer) exams in April (A lesson well learnt in hindsight!).

 

I was determined to make up for my deficiencies through regular homework exercises, i.e., hitting the books right after coming home. I was not bad in Telugu language but for many years I used to trip up or stumble on the nasal consonants: ఙ,ఞ. Whenever the teacher asked me to recite the whole Telugu alphabet, I would utter all the letters both vowels and consonants without any mistake. But suddenly I would get stuck at those nasal consonants – they would act as speed breakers (I got even punishment - the teacher made me stand on the bench). Yet I knew them intuitively and could read whole passages in prose and poetry without a hitch. In math, I had trouble with long divisions by hand - the long computations (iterative operations) with divisor, dividend, remainder, and quotient (ex: 10,756 ÷ 13). And then we just started learning decimal numbers (ex: 31.25 ÷ 23). India was entering the decimal (metric units) era – gone were those archaic foot, pound, and seer units. Division is nothing but repeated subtraction, now I know this elegant fact. Then, I was alone at home with no maths help. I was too timid in the new village environment with no elderly friends (brothers, friends, or uncles) and my parents never received formal education. They were proficient with mother tongue, bits of English, and basic math, enough for grocery shopping. Interest (particularly compound interest) calculations, algebra, or trigonometry was beyond them. Then in the fourth grade annual exam I again failed, this time in math. Already I was getting behind by a year and now this crisis for an innocent elementary school kid. That was when our parents (mother was the prime moving force) took charge of my studies. I was urgently put in a free remedial course (tuition) down the street a few houses away, under the wings of a smart high school senior. Within two summer months I learnt the necessary basic math – enough to secure admission into sixth grade at the local high school. That was a real miracle. Though I took many advanced math courses later I never needed any extra external help. The Mother always helps Her ward, though at times in Her own inscrutable ways. The path could be circuitous at times; but that is Her prerogative or play. May we say: "She has her own plans".

 

        This writer had numerous childhood problems and afflictions. They always came in rapid succession, giving no respite to my busy loving mother. There was no break; it could be a viral hepatitis (A), boils, stomach upsets, or prolonged fevers. Always crisis after crisis. There were no routine pediatric vaccine shots (or oral drops) back then and we were left to our own devices. Once I contracted a debilitating whopping cough. It sapped all my reserve energies and I started losing weight. Mother would make some tasty dish (like coconut chutney or cucumber dal) but I could not enjoy even few grains of it. Entire throat got irritated and nothing could soothe it. She went around looking for a cure. Finally we got some herbal medicine from a local Ayurvedic doctor. Of course, money was tight and mother did not want me admitted to any government or private hospital. Two capsules of erythromycin would cost an arm and leg in those days. Then she hit upon a potent solution: “Let me tie a talisman around this child’s neck to ward off all evil diseases.” She really took it seriously and purchased a silver coin with Pavana-putra (ఆంజనేయులు)  for me. One morning she did all her routine prayers and made me sit on a wooden pedestal. After lighting oil lamps around me she tied the talisman while chanting a sacred mantra. That did wonders for my health. For many years I had the amulet and it really boosted my spirits. I became confident about my physical prowess; sure occasionally there would be a minor cold or stomach upset but I never lost sleep over them. Her affectionate watch protected me from a distance and no evil thought/gaze could trouble me in the least. Of course, with the amulet necklace I looked a bit queer to my classmates but I just shrugged it off.

        Just through pure luck (I'd call it a benediction) I met many (more than I can count on a hand) holy persons in my life. I think it happened due to my parents' devotion; and also due to the extraordinary "penance" of my grand and great grand parents. Many times I wandered aimlessly when faced with difficult and desperate insurmountable situations. I patiently bore the burdens and waited for the "karma" to wear itself out. But once a sincere knowledgeable palmist examined my hand and commented: "Sir, why are you feeling bad? Why are you depressed? There is nothing to worry. You've bright future ahead and better prospects await you. Your current troubles are very minor. Do not lose your heart." I can never forget his soothing words. I never paid a penny for his prediction; a payment would be an affront to the affable elderly gentleman. (To be Continued) Copyright 2020 by the author

 

Something To Ponder Upon (Grace)

    Something To Ponder Upon (Grace)

    There are a few things I would like to share with youngsters. Currently all over the world times are hard and very trying; there is no assurance that the near future will be any better. Though this writer is biased (in a positive sense) towards the Indian subcontinent, he is fully aware of his readership across continents. Now, in this post and some future ones I would like to narrate close encounters with “grace”. This I do with utter humility – not to bloviate. Perhaps some distraught youth may get inspiration from my humble experiences and overcome imminent despair. Like “freedom”, we need the guru in the beginning, at the start. Alas, life does not work like that. Our ignorance (or burden of past ‘karma’) is so great, it overwhelms every instinct to do good acts, follow basic norms of decency (dharma), and be generous to others and us. Grace is accessible to everyone; it is there for all genuine seekers. No one is rich or poor in the eyes of “grace”. We’ll be unnecessarily harming ourselves if we ignore this important aspect in life. There will be times when we lose friends, companions, and close relatives in the long journey of life. Or, when we encounter incurable disease. At such times one has to draw on inner strengths. Our rishis have great inner strengths. Personally I’ve known or seen several such great austere personalities with utter inviolability and authentic inner energy. Nothing would perturb them in the slightest.

 

    These narrations are not in any temporal sequence. I just follow my thoughts and the quick fingers do the rest. It is like catching the falling (spiraling) maple seeds or colorful autumn leaves. You have to gather fast and not let any one beautiful leaf escape your grip.

 

    It was during a severe snowstorm. Normally we try to avoid driving during heavy snowstorms/blizzards. Even with excellent snow ploughs (salt and road cleaning) one may get stuck on the road. The traffic gets jammed and often you see cars skidding, hitting the curb or sliding off the highway into shoulder. I was returning from a short shopping trip and was just barely two miles away from home. A slight mistake and the front tire went over the six-inch high sidewalk (curb). Everything came to a standstill and I got stuck. No amount of maneuvering would work. It was a front wheel drive vehicle and the front wheels were skidding. Of course, eventually I would be rescued or towed to the nearest gas station. But before the AAA rescue vehicle came, a strange intervention happened. Someone came out of nowhere and lifted my van with bare hands and put down the passenger side wheel on road. Instantaneously everything got solved efficiently and before I could express thanks, the Good Samaritan miraculously disappeared without a trace. Now, one could surmise such an event as just fluke, sort of a random event. But this writer would only count it as “pure grace”. (The writer would not like to boast but he has studied deeply logic, sufficient and necessary conditions, delved more profoundly into mathematical topics such as various types of infinities, real and imaginary numbers, transformations, and probability theory – certainly had more exposure to science and mathematics than many in the world.)

 

    With the same vehicle earlier I ran into another dangerous situation on the highway. Once I went to the dealer to find a part to fix the bonnet (hood) prop rod. It is a small plastic clip that is held firmly to the body. Due to age and extreme cold weather the original plastic part got cracked (broken) and I had to improvise with a twist tie. Finally I got the part from the dealer and installed the piece right in the parking lot. But I made a serious (tragic) blunder; I forgot to drop the hood from two feet high and forcibly shut the spring-loaded latch. What was I thinking? Or, just being utterly careless and absent minded? We laugh and blame surgeons for leaving a scissor or scalpel in a patient’s body. But here I made a deadly stupid mistake. I let the hood rest loosely and hurriedly got on to the expressway at full speed (50 - 60 mph). The house is barely five miles from the car dealer. Now you can guess what happened. Bang! The unlatched hanging hood got swung out (like a loose door during strong wind) with a massive force and hit my front windshield – while I was driving at 60 mph. When I opened my eyes, the entire front (windshield) glass got broken into hundreds of one inch pieces, with cracks all over the viewing area, and I was literally shaking in my driver’s seat. Luckily, not a single glass shard came loose. Nothing hit me, truly thanks to some unknown grace. Now, in retrospective how could I’ve saved myself in such a dangerous situation? I could’ve hit a vehicle, a tree, or median. It was beyond my limited human ability, beyond my skills. There was no time even for a prayer. Fortunately I got everything repaired professionally to a flawless perfection. Luckily I escaped the accident unscathed both bodily and fiscally.

 

    A more recent accident happened near an ancient temple. (This writer did not do any special act to deserve any grace or reprieve for any infraction or unkind act in life!) I was trying to wade into the river waters and do an abbreviated “ablution” (మార్జనము) as part of the temple visit. I am always attracted to water, rivers, lakes, ocean, or even swimming pools. Perhaps I’ve developed this aqua-instinct due to living my formative years next to the Godavari canal. I learnt swimming a bit late in life but I never had the fear of water. The steps to the river were covered with green glistening moss and I was fully aware of the danger while entering the waters. Still, without any warning I momentarily slid and fell into the river. When you are young, falling is no big deal. At the most a few bruises, a little bleeding, or perhaps a snap of bone is all that occurs. But it is entirely a different situation when you are a grownup, thousands of miles away from home, and among strangers. On top of that, my doctor expressly advised me to avoid all falls due to valid reasons. Now, here in the shallow waters (near the bank) I got totally wet and I had to change. Changing of clothes and drying water dripping freshly pressed shirt and trousers – that was no problem, no big deal in the larger scheme of things. Again, some thing intervened and I was fully saved. I just landed gently on the smooth sandy layer over the concrete river steps. When I stood up there was not a scratch on the body. It was as though some hand (or something) was protecting me all along. Perhaps, the “grace” wanted to give me a full bath in the sacred river. Why an “abbreviated” act? It was as though some voice was speaking to me thus: “Earlier you bathed in this river and showed me your devotion and innocence. Why are you hesitating today? You brought spare clean clothes, didn’t you? Have a nice ablution facing the divine couple. They are none other than your loving parents. Do not miss this unique opportunity.” The same Lord Narayana watched over us through all the tiring travels and took us around many holy pilgrim places.

 

    Accidental falls can be disastrous for anyone, young or old. They may result in hip fractures, hairline bone fractures, or deadly blood clots in the brain. Simple bone fractures or joint dislocations can heal. But clots in the brain (hematoma) can be fatal if not treated immediately. Complex hip or knee joint fractures may impair ones mobility permanently. (to be continued) Copyright 2020 by the author

Ganesa's Grace - II

श्री गुरुभ्यों नमः | अनेक साष्टाङ्ग दण्ड प्रणाम सहित प्रणतोस्मि श्री कंचि कामकोटि  परमाचार्य पदारविन्देन |In an earlier post I wrote about the lyrics of the well-known sloka (శుక్లాంబర)  with meaning. If I remember correctly Sri Seshadri Swamy urged his disciples to chant this sloka three times – to invoke Lord Ganesa properly. Everything with the Siva family centers around three: The Bilva leaf, three eyes (Sun, Moon, and Fire), and the trident. The trident is a symbol of dissolution of the three gunas - tamas, rajas, and sattva; it is not just a weapon to scare evil doers.

अगजानन पद्मार्कम् गजानन महर्निशम् 

अनेकदं तं भक्तानां एकदन्त मुपास्महे 

అగజానన పద్మార్కమ్ గజానన మహర్నిశమ్ 

అనేకదం, తం భక్తానాం ఏకదంత ముపాస్మహే 

agajaanana padmaarkam^ gajaanana maharniSam^ 

anaekadaM, taM bhaktaanaaM aekadaMta mupaasmahae 

Brilliance of the Sanskrit language and its brevity! One letter can convey a complete word. अ = न = not; ग = moving; Agaja = daughter of the mountain. How succinctly and affectionately did the Kanchi Swami encapsulate the Mother, in the Telugu phrase: konDa-chuli (కొండ చూలి)

You are (Thou art) like the sun

To Parvati’s (daughter of the mountain) lotus-like face 

I pray to the elephant faced Lord

Day and night

You bestow many things

To the devotees

I meditate on the Lord

The One with one tusk

Many times people unknowingly say ‘anekadantam’ as a single word, which is wrong. There should be a brief pause after uttering “anekadam”. Earlier I too used to get confused - why is the Lord addressed as the One with many tusks?

Once Ganesa asked for the head of Lord Siva as a sacrifice. To satisfy His demand, we offer Him a coconut (representing a head) with three black marks (corresponding to the three eyes of Lord Siva). There must be many stories depicting the generosity and promptness of Lord Ganesa. Once Ganesa provided sumptuous meals to the wandering Sri (Kavya Kantha) Ganapati Muni and his brother. He transported the Siva devotee Avvaiyar to Kailas. The great original Telugu singer, Ghantasala recited this sloka with utmost perfect diction; in the movie “Vinayaka Chaviti” he rendered the Muttuswami’s composition (Vatapi Ganapathi) with these two slokas invoking Lord Ganesa. In high school we had an excellent vocalist (brother of Mr. Peter) as a classmate. We scarcely realized his talent and skill of nimble drumming fingers. One day during the annual school function he mesmerized all of us with his singing of Muttuswamy’s composition with his drumming on tabla. Later we came to know about his guru, Sri Rudraraju Subbaraju. Some pleasant cherished memories! There Kasi blessed the maestro Bismallah Khan and here our town bestowed unique talent on the young U. Srinivas.

I conclude this piece with Narayana’s playful antics to amuse Lord Ganesa. Once Vinayaka grabbed the spinning disc (सुदर्शन चक्र ) and swallowed it effortlessly. Lord Vishnu (none other than Ganesa’s uncle) got into a fix; how to get back His weapon? Then He went on performing umpteen (more than a thousand) sit-ups holding His ears with four hands. Our mischievous Ganesa immediately went into bursts of laughter and lo, the disc came out. Even now we do the sit-ups (గుంజీలు) and hit our foreheads with knuckles to please Ganesa easily, instantaneously. What can we offer to this pure embodiment of knowledge, wisdom, and kindness? Except a blade of grass. It is difficult to get to the real essence of Brahman or Ganesa; yet humble faith and submission may open the door to the unknowable. (Collected from the benedictions and discourses of Sri Paramacharya) Copyright 2019