The Lotus Feet That Became My Sri Vaikuṇṭha
“Somewhere along the journey, the soul stops asking, ‘Where is Vaikuṇṭha?’ and begins to whisper, ‘Let me remain at the feet of my Āchārya.'”
Yesterday…
I tried to introduce to you the one whose name changed the direction of my life.
Swamy Jagadācārya Śrī Rāmānuja.
But even as I wrote… I felt helpless. How can one describe the ocean by
holding a single drop?How can one describe the fragrance of a flower
without experiencing it?How can I speak about Rāmānuja… when even
the sound of his name makes something tremble in deep devotion within me?
For me… he is not merely a historical Ācārya.
Not merely the great philosopher who gave us Śrī Bhāṣya.
Not merely the reformer who embraced the neglected.
Not merely the Yatirāja whose footsteps sanctified countless temples.
He is… the breath that gave this lifeless soul an identity.
And perhaps… that is why the journey refuses to end.
A Soul Stands Before Its Ācārya
During one of our Ācārya-yātrās… we reached Śrīraṅgam.
I knew exactly where I wanted to go. Not merely to see a temple.
Not merely to visit another sacred place.I wanted to stand before
the Thaān aana tirumēni of Śrī Rāmānuja…the sacred form revered as
still present.
I walked toward him… and then stopped.
I could not move. I stood against a pillar…looking at my Ācārya.
My eyes filled with tears . I felt like an empty slate.
For years… I had followed religious practices.
I had performed what I had been taught.
I had visited temples. I had prayed.
I had observed rituals. But somewhere deep inside…
I knew that much of it had been mixed with ego.
With recognition. With the subtle feeling…
“I am doing.” Standing before Rāmānuja…
that illusion became unbearable. My heart whispered:
“Swami… I am not worthy of even Your glance.
Yet I have come. Please… somehow make me Yours.
And then… something extraordinary happened.
A priest nearby began reciting a verse.
I heard: “Na chet Rāmānujē deśē…”
The words struck something within me.
I had heard them somewhere before.
I slowly moved closer.
I asked the priest about their meaning.
He looked at me…and began to explain.
The very presence of Rāmānujāchārya in this world is itself
a pathway to the Supreme Abode. He is glorified as the one who
shows the way toward Viṣṇu-loka. The words were simple.
But I was not hearing them simply. I was hearing them…
from the feet of the Ācārya.
The Morsel of Grace
The priest was supposed to proceed to another temple service.
Yet…seeing my eagerness…he asked another young priest to go ahead.
He would follow later.Then he asked me
“Have you taken the ghoṣṭi prasāda?”I had not.
He gave me a morsel from his own leaf.
I received it with trembling hands. I remember thinking…
“What more does this stray soul need?” I quietly recited:
Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ. That morsel was not merely food.
To me… it was an instruction.The Ācārya does not always teach
through books. Sometimes… He teaches through a glance.
Sometimes through a word. Sometimes through prasāda.
Sometimes through a stranger who appears at precisely
the moment when the soul is ready to listen.
The Name That Changed Everything
By then… Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ
had become much more than a mantra I recited.
It had become… my identity.I began to understand something
that I had never understood before.A person may spend a
lifetime saying, “I am this body.”Another may say,
“I am this profession.” Another…“I am this family.”
Another… “I am this achievement.”But the Ācārya gently
teaches the soul… “You are His.”And gradually…
the false identities begin to fall away.
The Journey That Began at Tirukkurungudi
Years earlier…during my very first Divya Deśa pilgrimage to Tirukkuṟuṅguḍi…
I had been a religious person. But I was not yet truly spiritual.
I remember my intense desire to have darśhan of all the five Nambis.
The main temple had been visited by the devotees.
But Malai Nambi was still waiting above…amidst the rocks and forests.
In those days…the journey was not as easy as it is now.
An elderly priest assured us that he would take us.We began climbing.
And as we walked…he told us about the glory of Tirukkuṟuṅguḍi.
He spoke of Nampāḍuvān. He spoke of Vaḍuga Nambi.
He spoke of the Lord’s divine relationship with His devotees.
And then.. he spoke of Śrī Rāmānuja.
How Rāmānuja’s presence had sanctified this place.
How the Lord here became associated with the Ācārya in such a way that He came to be glorified as Vaiṣṇava Nambi.
But then the priest said something that I have never forgotten.
He looked at me and said…
“Child… keep reciting Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ as often as possible.”
Then he added words that entered my heart permanently:
“All the sacred Rahasya mantras are contained in the remembrance of the Ācārya.”
I do not know what happened at that moment.
The old priest no longer appeared to me merely as a priest.
He seemed… radiant. Almost like an Ācārya himself.
And something within me changed.
From Religion to Spirituality
That sacred name began to follow me.
Slowly…very slowly…the mountains of pride began to weaken.
The hunger for recognition began to lose its taste.
The need to prove myself began to disappear.
The desire to understand the Pūrvācāryas became stronger.
I wanted to visit the places where they lived.
I wanted to see the temples where they performed kainkaryam.
I wanted to stand before the very Ārādhana Perumals whom they had worshipped.
I wanted to hear from advanced devotees.
I wanted to understand their granthas. I wanted to know…
what made these souls so completely His and The pilgrimage changed.
It was no longer… “I am going to see another temple.”
It became… “I am going to meet another teacher.”
That longing eventually brought HH Śrī Mudaliāṇḍān Swamy
into my life in a way I could never have planned.
After Pañca Saṁskāra, circumstances had made personal contact difficult.
Yet the longing remained. And then… by the mercy of Jagadācārya…
I was able to meet my Ācārya personally at Siṅgaperumāl Koil.
I had countless doubts. Some were profound.
Many were probably very ordinary.
He answered every one of them…with a smile.And then…
he assured me that he would visit us One day…
he came. And not merely once. He came again…and again…
and again. I could only wonder.
Why would such an Ācārya come to a soul like me?
I still do not know the answer. Perhaps…
that is what Ācārya-kṛpā means.The disciple does not climb
high enough to reach the Ācārya. The Ācārya descends… and lifts the disciple.
As the journey continued… I began discovering that Rāmānuja was not standing alone.
Behind him stood an ocean of Ācāryas.
Nāthamuni… Uyyakkoṇḍār… Maṇakkāl Nambi… Āḷavandār…
Periya Nambi… Tirukkoṣṭiyūr Nambi… Periya Tirumalai Nambi…
and countless luminous disciples whose lives were nothing
but offerings at the feet of the Lord. And behind them…
the Āḻvārs.And behind them…the Lord Himself.
Suddenly… the meaning of the journey became clearer.
No soul walks to Vaikuṇṭha alone.
The Āchārya walks with us.The PūrvĀchārya s walk behind us.
The Āḻvārs sing before us. And Bhagavān…waits at the end of the path.
The greatest lesson I have slowly begun to understand
is not merely what Rāmānuja taught. It is how Rāmānuja lived.
He showed that spiritual realization must become compassion.
Knowledge must become service. Surrender must become humility.
And devotion must become love for the Lord’s devotees.
That is why his life continues to breathe.
That is why his footsteps continue to guide.
That is why even today… the sound of his name can awaken a sleeping heart.
When I stood before Rāmānuja at Śrīraṅgam…
I did not feel that I had travelled across hundreds of kilometres.
I felt… that I had travelled across several lifetimes.
And suddenly… a strange thought arose. “Was I perhaps some tiny ant…
some insignificant creature… living during his time?”
Perhaps I had lived and died without recognizing him.
Perhaps… by some immeasurable mercy…
I have been allowed to return… just to place my head near
his sacred feet. I do not know. But I know this much
His lotus feet themselves have become my Śrī Vaikuṇṭha.
“I searched for Vaikuṇṭha in the heavens.
The Āchārya taught me to search at His feet.”
“The name Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ did not merely
enter my lips. Slowly… it entered my identity.”
“The Lord is the destination. The Āchārya is the path.
The Āḻvārs are the song. And surrender is the journey.”
Perhaps… this is why my journey refuses to end.
I had once thought… forty days would be enough.
But how can forty days contain a lifetime of memories?
How can a few pages contain the compassion of the Āchārya s?
How can one describe the tears shed before their sannidhis…
the stories heard from elderly priests…
the sacred places discovered in forgotten corners…
the Ārādhana Perumals who seemed to carry the very presence of their masters…
and the countless moments when the Lord appeared to arrange everything Himself?
So… I must make a confession to you.
I had promised you a forty-day journey.
But I do not know how many more days this journey will go on
how many more days this soul will continue to glow within this material body…
sharing the memories that the Lord has placed within it.
There are still… so many temples. So many Āchārya s.
So many unexpected encounters. So many tears.So many lessons.
So many moments when the boundary between pilgrimage and revelation became almost invisible.
Therefore… please bear with my memoirs. Perhaps many more..
Tomorrow…
We shall begin walking through one of the most extraordinary chapters of his life.
A young seeker… a powerful scholar… a teacher who challenged him…
a journey that tested his humility… and an Āchārya whose teachings
would ultimately reshape the destiny of the entire sampradāya.
the young Rāmānuja will stand before Yādavaprakāśa.
And perhaps… for the first time…
we shall see how the Lord begins shaping His chosen servant long before
the world recognizes him.
“I thought I was searching for Acharyar Rāmānuja.
Then I discovered… Acharyar had been searching for me.
I thought I was walking toward Vaikuṇṭha.
Then I discovered…his lotus feet were already my Vaikuṇṭha.”
To be continued…
Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ
Adiyen Ramanuja dasan
Pictures Courtesy : Google images
