KUNJU SWAMI 2

[Guest guest]

Kunju Swami

Continued from our last issue and translated from Tamil by J. Jayaraman

Events of Wonder on My Way to Arunachala

When I reached home my parents were very happy to see me. I stayed for two days, though my mind had already travelled to Tiruvannamalai. While I was occupied with the thought of how to acquire the money for the journey, my father called me and asked, "Do you owe anyone money for the food that you ate when you were with the Yelappondi Kuppandi Swami?" I replied, "Yes, a little." Immediately he handed me five rupees an commanded me to settle my account the next morning. Alas, I had found my way to Tiruvannamalai!

Thinking that a small impropriety could not be counted a sin when it helped to gain a supreme ideal, I consoled my conscience and planned my departure using the five rupees to cover the train fare. Although I went to bed that night with a very peaceful heart, I was unable to sleep. Early in the morning - it was the month of January, 1920 - I left my house at 3 a.m. without telling anyone. As I went out, I turned towards my home and prostrated to it and my dear parents sleeping inside, convinced that I would never return. My heart was now racing for the long-sought darshan of Sri Bhagavan.

Afraid of being spotted at the Paalakkaadu Train Station, I went to a smaller railway station en-route. I found upon inquiry that the train to Tiruvannamalai was not due until the evening. Needless to say, I waited anxiously and hoped I would not be discovered. Hunger and thirst was forgotten in my longing for God. Besides, I dared not use the money for anything other than the train ticket, as that was my priority.

The train finally arrived at 6 p.m. When I asked for a ticket to Tiruvannamalai, the ticket clerk sold me a ticket only as far as Kaatpaadi, a station near to Tiruvannamalai. Finally, when it came time to board the train, I was hardly aware of it, as I was almost totally absorbed in the current of Bhagavan's darshan.

Alighting at Kaatpaadi at 4 a.m., I learned that the train to Tiruvannamalai left at 6:30 a.m. I sat still and waited. When I went to the ticket counter at 6 a.m. to buy my ticket I was shocked to hear that the train had already left a half hour earlier and the next train wasn't until 6 p.m. I didn't know what to do and was disturbed. I hadn't eaten since the morning of the previous day and so bought a half-anna worth of jujubee fruit. I spent the day munching on these jujubees and sipping tap-water to solve my food problem. My mind calmed as I waited for the evening train.

Taking no chances I approached the ticket counter at 5:30 p.m. to buy my ticket to Tiruvannamalai, but to my amazement the clerk refused to sell me one! Nonplussed, I was standing transfixed when a kind elderly man nearby informed me that the town of Tiruvannamalai is quarantined because of a plague epidemic and so no tickets to that destination can be sold. He advised me to buy a ticket to Tirukkoviloor, and to quietly get off at Tiruvannamalai when the train stops briefly to unload mail. Tirukkoviloor is the next station after Tiruvannamalai. When asked for a ticket to Tirukkoviloor, the ticket clerk asked me for additional money. I didn't have it. Crushed with unimaginable frustration, I stood to one side thinking of Bhagavan and overcome by sorrow.

When there was only a few minutes left before the train to Tiruvannamalai was to arrive - wonder of wonders - the mystery of Bhagavan's grace descended upon me! Between the two rails, just a short distance from where I stood, a quarter-rupee coin lay glittering. I immediately picked it up and ran to the ticket counter. My train arrived in the station the very moment I was handed the ticket to Tirukkoviloor. Thrilled with the thought of Bhagavan's grace on my poor self, I got on the train and found a seat.

The train arrived at Tiruvannamalai station about 9 p.m. No lights were on in the station. Only from the remarks of the other passengers I understood that I had reached my destination. I looked around to see if anyone was getting off. I noticed one passenger in front of me detraining into the darkness and so I followed him. I blindly continued to follow this passenger without an inkling of where he was leading me. In retrospect, I now realized that missing the first train to Tiruvannamalai was Bhagavan's will, for if I had taken the earlier train I would have faced the problem of arriving in Tiruvannamalai during the daylight hours, with the possibility of facing the authorities.

Finally, reaching a big Mantap (way-side rest hall), my guide dusted a bit of the floor with his towel and lay down to sleep. Exhausted after two days of hunger and wandering, but filled with the joy of finally reaching my destination, I also lay down and immediately plunged into deep slumber.

When my eyes opened about 5 a. m. the next morning I looked over to my side and saw that my guide had already left. I looked out of the Mantap and had my first glorious darshan of the holy Arunachala Mountain. Then, following the directions sent to me by my friend, Ramakrishnaswami, I came to the place behind the west wall of the great temple. The directions said I could reach Bhagavan's abode by following the steps that led up the hill from this spot, but I discovered three different paths with steps leading up the hill and was confused. I decided on the steps to the right, and after climbing a little ways I saw a building. As I came near it I saw an ochre-robed swami standing with long matted locks that reached all the way down to the ground. It was my belief then that matted-hair swamis were notorious for inflicting curses upon the slightest provocation. When

I saw this swami standing there I knew it was not Bhagavan, of whom I had seen a photo of, so I immediately fled in fright, came back down the hill and began climbing the middle path, which had large steps. I later discovered the matted-locked swami was the well known Jatai Swami.

After climbing a short distance on the middle path I saw a tank (Paada Teertham) and two people standing on its bank (Mudaliar Patti's son and daughter-in-law, Tambiraan Swami and Kaamakshi Ammaal). I approached them and inquired about Bhagavan's abode. My tired face and Malayaalam accent yielded a sympathetic response: "Oh, you poor fellow! You must be tired. Please take your bath here and then follow this path and you will see Skandashram where Bhagavan lives. We will soon follow you with some food to eat."

I quickly bathed, removing all the outer dirt but inwardly was seeking purity and the removal of all my inner dirt. I hurried up the trail like a calf racing toward its mother and my mind in ecstasy, hastened far ahead of me to Bhagavan.

I had given some prior thought as to how I should prostrate before Bhagavan, and how I should conduct myself in general. I also resolved that I would take as divine Upadesha (personal teaching) the first words Bhagavan directed towards me. Just as I arrived at Skandashram, my friend, Ramakrishnaswami, along with Perumalswami and Akhandanandar were prostrating before Bhagavan. I followed suit, sat down before him and gazed on his holy form. Goose bumps tingled all over me. I was thrilled.

Ramakrishnaswami, who was amazed and happy to see me, informed Bhagavan that it was me who sent him here, that I was from his village, and that I had been a sadhu from my childhood. Bhagavan simply nodded his head in acknowledgment. Then Ramakrishnaswami asked me to stay here with Bhagavan while the three of them went out for some time. Later I found out that they had gone to bury the body of Annamalai Swami, who had died of the plague that very day.

Soon I heard someone weeping convulsively from a room adjacent to the inside of the verandah.

"Such a gem! Oh, Annamalai has gone. How cruel and unjust!" These were the words painfully spoken between the sobs of an old woman. There was a man sitting by her side. Bhagavan turned to them and said, "Why this sorrow?" And pointing to me, as to pacify them, continued, "Look here, another has come to take his place!" I did not realize the significance of those precious and prophetic words until later. The old woman sobbing was Bhagavan's Mother, and sitting at her side was his brother, Niranjanananda Swami.

At 8 a.m., one Turiyananda, placed a mud bowl in my hands, took one himself, and requested me to sit. Sri Bhagavan also sat on a nearby platform with a mud bowl. The three of us were then served rice, dhal and rasam by Venu Ammal, sister of Echammal, who had already been feeding Bhagavan daily for many years.

- (To be continued)

 

 

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