Tears Will Flow! Don't Miss This!

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GODS' CHILDREN

The Mercy of shree raamaanujaazhwaar (or shree raamaanujaachaarya)

Sweat was crawling slowly from my forehead, along my cheeks to the edge of my

lips where it spread quickly along the parting. I could taste the salt of my

labor. The last seed was planted, the last sack carried and the last moments of

the day turned to night. The sun was starting to hide behind the mountains in

the distance as I flopped down onto the earth. My mother earth, my India, my

home. The fields were the only place where I felt more welcome, more real and

closer to my land. Letting all the peace of the evening air sink in me, I

pulled my small brown, tattered bag and with the last of my energy managed to

start walking home.

My house wasn't very far. It was quite near the fields, away from the higher

caste people. I could hear the temple bell ringing as I walked down the narrow

dirt path lined with palm trees. The temple was quite famous for 'Ranganatha',

a popular form of Lord Vishnu, giving the district its name: Srirangam. People

from all over south India would come just to see his rich black figure decked

with gold, lying majestically on a coiled five headed snake called Adi Sesha.

But it was beauty that I could see only in my dreams. The look of pure,

absolute divinity in his lotus-petal shaped eyes. The solid black stone carved

with such precision, outlining his sharp features. His nose in a straight

angle, his thin lips together in a perfect mountain-like curve with just a

subtle, knowing smile. Just below, his small rounded dimple chin. His chest

broad and his stomach tight, both bare covered in only gold necklaces lined

with various gems. His arms with armlets and bangles, his fingers together

showing a perfect palm. His legs straight, draped in a white silk cloth, a

border of just simple gold once again. His feet and toes in perfect proportion,

each smaller than the first. There he would lie, just perfect. My family and I

as well as the others who lived in our area, couldn't enter the temple. We

couldn't even be around it to tell you the truth. The caste system in the Hindu

religion was made only as a division in work and labor. The highest in the

system are the Brahmins. Brahmins are the priestly ones, quiet and studious

they say. Next come the Kshatriyas who are princely and energetic. After that

are the Vaisyas who are apparently 'impelled by desire'. Last is us, the

Sudras. People don't even consider us to be in the caste system. When passed by

any other caste member, you can smell the air of pride around them, and a

negative vibe sent off, making you feel very undeveloped compared to them. We

may not be wealthy to attend school, but we know the way of life, and how to

produce food. The Brahmins are considered the spiritual power, the Kshatriyas

secular power, the Vaisyas economic power, and again us Sudras- the labor

power. I remember the days when I was a kid; I would stand in the street corner

and watch all the Brahmin children playing fun, various games until I was chased

off by some adult. The atmosphere around the streets surrounding the temples

itself is a change. A feeling of complete devotion takes over you, pulling you

towards it, but as soon as it calms the mind someone will chase you off.So, the

caste system was started just for the separation in the jobs, starting from the

priests to the laborers. This slowly transformed into a minute form of racism.

Because of peoples' false pride and their discrimination, they said we

'polluted' their areas. I bow my head to them, but as they pass I hear them

muttering that we are God's feet. Well, God's feet are where everyone is

wishing to reach anyway when they attain salvation or 'moksha'. If we are

already the feet… A sigh of deep sadness covered me like a blanket as I entered

my humble home.

My children ran to me as I sat on the mat on top of the earth floor inside the

house. "It happened again today father!" the younger one, Andaalu, cried. I

looked into her dark brown eyes as they welled up with tears, her face covered

in sand and mud, her thick black hair spilling all over the place in curled

locks. "When I asked them if I could play, the pushed me away and threw sand in

my hair." She started with her soft sobs. I knew exactly how she felt. It

happened to me when I was a child, when all the other children would simply

think they were better. It happened to my wife as well, and my parents, their

parents and so on. In her eyes I saw the reflection of my own anger. There was

nothing I could do though. If we adults didn't have power, how would the

children? "Don't worry child," I said, stroking her hair. "One day will come

when we will be allowed to play with them, when we will be allowed to go to

school, and most importantly when we will be allowed to enter the temple of

Ranganatha." My older son, Maaran, stood in the corner, simply listening as I

hugged my girl tightly. We all knew our social status and what work had to be

done. We stayed away from other people and mingled with our own kind, even

having fun sometimes, sitting around a fire in the late evening and talking

through the night with all the families in our area. Occasionally though, it

would hit us that we were not given the same opportunity as others and some of

us only grew more upset, while others filled with rage. A day will come… I told

my children a day would come just for us, not in the true belief that it would,

only in the slight hope. I told them to soothe them for the moment, as any

father should do. Still, I did not expect this day to come so fast. I remember

it clearly though, around year 1063 (AD), in the month of June, it happened. We

all heard of Sri Ramanuja before, a famous saint who was teaching the opposite

of the philosophy of Sri Shankaracharya, or something like that.It was too

complex for us to learn what he was doing even if we had the chance, but we

thought he was like everyone else, sticking with only their castes. We were

wrong. I stepped out of my house, as usual, as the sun was rising and folded my

sleeping mat made of straw. Maaran did the same behind me, and then tapped my

shoulder. I turned to see his face, jaw open, eyes wide. I followed his

eyesight and there outside was a sage surrounded by all the Sudras in our

community. We ran quickly to the group and gathered with them, not knowing what

to expect. No sage or Brahmin had ever been this close to us. He was speaking to

all of them, in a calm voice."…Everyone is equal. You are all just the same as

me and the rest." He said. His eyes met mine, I could see a sparkle in them and

a wave of excitement ran through my body. He continued, his back against the

sun, creating a halo-like glow around his head and bare torso.

"When we pass away, and reach moksha, we will serve the God-Head. We will become

his hands and feet. Everyone aims to reach his feet, and if all of you are

already feet then you're in the right place." There! Exactly what I was

thinking, I thought it was just me, but I was right. My mouth opened in

complete happiness. Everyone was starting to murmur amongst themselves. "The

caste distinctions in the Hindu religion were made only for the different roles

we play in contributing to our society. I am aware of the treatment you are

given by some higher caste members. Our bodies and appearances may be

different, but our souls are one and the same." He continued. He held the

people in front of the crowd and pulled them forward."Tiruk Kulattar," He said.

"You are God's children." We all cheered, happy and full of energy."I will take

you, for now, at least once a year to the temple. You will be able to see with

your own eyes the beauty of Lord Vishnu as Ranganatha." At this there was a

complete uproar. Clapping and running. People fell at the feet of Sri Ramanuja.

Maaran and I ran up to him and fell on our knees. We grasped his hands in ours

and cried with joy. My hands trembled as I could not believe that the day had

come where we could enter the temple. He pulled us up and simply smiled.Andaalu

came running and asked me if it was true, and with tears in my eyes I nodded,

holding her small face in my hands. We all jumped for quite a while, and even

then were not exhausted. "Come." Sri Ramanuja said quietly. And we all followed

in silence.After walking deeper into the area and past houses as well as the

stares of other castes, we entered the temple. When I stepped over the small

step, through the temple doors, butterflies formed in my stomach. We walked on

the cold stone floor with our bare feet and up a few more steps. We passed

pillars with sculptures on them of ladies and birds and smaller gods. Most of

the temple had been cleared for us, either way nobody would want to be there

when we visited. We walked into another door, this time with a ceiling, and

then another. Then we stopped, and in front of me was the big 21-foot long

statue of Lord Ranganatha. Everyone was speechless. Standing in complete awe.

>From the snake heads, to the full form of the Lord up to his small toes, my

eyes devoured every inch of it hungrily. My heart pounded faster and my blood

became hotter as tears came to my eyes. The form was much more beautiful than

in my dreams. I put my hands together, praying, not asking for anything in the

world except to be able to see this more often. To one day be able to see this

whenever I wanted to. I looked around me. Everyone had tears of happiness on

their faces. Even my children did. I looked at them, and looked back at the

lord. No words are left in any language for me to describe the feeling within

me at that moment.Sri Ramanuja let us admire the form of the God for quite a

while until we were ushered out. We were allowed to sit on the floor of the

temple outside, against the pillars and just take in the atmosphere. How lucky

others were for being able to do this everyday. Again, I sighed.

I went up to Sri Ramanuja and unable to control myself hugged him; he smiled and

hugged me back. Because of his heart, he looked so beautiful, and in that I

could not bring myself to see who's smile was more divine, his or the Lord's

himself. We all fell at his feet and thanked him as much as we could, some even

calling him their first God. Every year we were allowed to visit the temple

after that. Even though nothing very big has changed in the society yet, at

least this was a start. Now it's year 1103 (AD) and I'm about to pass away at

the age of 71. My children and grandchildren are all around me as I write these

last few words. My last wish is that at least my great-grandchildren will not be

shoved away like we were. The words of Sri Ramanuja echo in my ears. And with

that I close my eyes, and in that moment I see only the form of Vishnu,

hopefully where I will reach anyway.

 

============================================================About this past

history presenter:Supraja is a 15 year old girl - Sri Madhavakannan Swamin's

friend's

daughter in Jakarta. Thanks to Sri Madhavakannan Swamin's influence sheexpressed

lot of interest to learn our sampradayam.She has great interest in Tamil verses

and the richness of Tamizh languagealso- though she has been living in Jakarta

for more than 12 years and is

studying in American School.Contact the author at: supsesh

==========================================================Note from Sri Mukundan

VP:The first time I read this article, i was in tears, i hope many otherdevotees

enjoy this anubhavam and get to feel our Emberumanar's compassion

and love for all humanity.Since the first time i have read this over and over

every now and then.In our sampradayam there is no Caste, Race, Language,

Knowledge, Sexbarriers all we need is Love for HIM in our hearts.

==========================================================

 

So that was the greatness of those time low casted people (shUdhras). They were

so much interested in seeing the god. But still they had no chance for seeing

the god at that time. But today there are millions of shUdhras who are visiting

the temples which enables to really USE the spiritual aspect for themselves

elevating to vaikunTam. This is only because of the mercy of shree

raamaanujaachaarya, shree annamaachaarya and other great devotees. Low caste

people are now heartly welcomed to temples. But they are not using this

opportunity sincerely. And those who all are not sincerely using these

opportunities, though he is born in braahamaNa's family, he is no more better

than shUdhra. So shUdhras are given opportunity to become braahmaNas by these

great devotees. LET US UTILIZE THIS GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY. Devotees of lord

gOvindha has given this golden chance for all of us equally. But if we are not

using, who knows if this opportunity again goes off?

BEWARE! IT MAY BE THE LAST CHANCE. IF WE ARE REAL HUMAN BEINGS, WE HAVE TO USE

THIS GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY.

 

- Balaji - The Servant of Devotees!