The month of ( March – April ) in tamil (Panguni ) is sacred as it is the appearance month of – Lord Ranganatha on Revathi star and Goddess Sri Ranganayaki Thayar on Uthiram star both occur during the same month. The most important and the oldest festival called as “Adi Brahmotsavam” is performed during…

Acharyar Pillai lokacharya’s vaibhavam

The month of ( March – April ) in tamil (Panguni ) is sacred as it is the appearance month of – Lord Ranganatha on Revathi star and Goddess Sri Ranganayaki Thayar on Uthiram star both occur during the same month.

The most important and the oldest festival called as “Adi Brahmotsavam” is performed during this month for 10 days and culminates on the day of Panguni Uthiram .

About 800 years ago ……………………………………………

an unusual incident occurred which has remained as one of the most cherished brave effort by our Acharyas for protecting and leaving us the legacy of our great srivaishnava sampradaya and our Lordships…

Almost 800 years ago , the festive mood was vibrating with splendor. At the banks of Kollidam river preparations were being made for Lord’s arrival with pomp and show . The stage was decorated with wonderful flowers and the best decorative lamps .

A huge golden throne decked with diamonds and costly jewels, attracted the venue. The devotees were discussing..

Who else except Lord of the Lords is going to preside now.

Devotees from far off arrived in large numbers to attend the great festival .It was a darshanam not to be missed .

It was customary for the Lord to alight and have Abhishekam done amongst the huge gathering of devotees

. The entire stage was decorated. Milk , Curd , Honey, Coconut water , Rose water , sandal oil , various types of perfumes , flowers , holy basil leaves garlands was set in order for the Lords ceremonial bath .

The feast for the eyes was about to begin …

Finally the time arrived …amongst the mangala Nadaswaram and the priests chanting Azhwars prabhandams Lord of Lords arrived in majestic style .

The great Acharya Swamy Desikan , Swamy Sudarshana suri along with several disciples accompanied the Lordships and were guiding the priests in conducting the rituals . Mangala haarathee was offered amongst the huge crowd .

All the devotees in one voice chanted loudly clasping their hands on their heads …..

G O V I N D A ….. G O V I N D A G O V I N D A ….G O V I N D A…… R A N G A

Among the most revered Acharyas , Priests and devotees , a distinguished very old devotee aging around 85 years or more ,was contemplating on the various divine pastimes of the great devotees who had served Lord in all aspects , even sacrificing their lives for the Lordships .

Silently glorifying the great Jatayu who served Lord Rama , and Lord Rama performing funeral rites for Jatayu , Lord Krishna preferring to dine with Sri Vidura even though he had the option of dining with exalted elders such as Drona or Bheeshma the episode of ThiruppAN azhvar, LOkasAranga Munithe the great kulasekhara azhwar attachment to Lord , Sri Periya Nambi and his attachment to Sri MaranEri Nambi, Swami Ramanuja and his deep devotion to Sri Thirukachchi Nambi he was silently cherishing …

His thoughts were with pure devotion overflowing ….

What have I done for the Lord ??? for his mercy in being among this august gathering . His face exuded serenity and was in total peace.

Caught up in these devotional thoughts and having darshanam of Lord Ranganatha he was lost in a different world full of bliss …

He had slowly forgotten the world around him.

That great personality was none other than our Jagath Acharyar Swami Pillai Lokacharya .

The proceedings were being conducted smoothly .All of a sudden among the august gathering a person rushed to the old Acharyar .

He was sweating .

He took courage and said …

Acharya , I was washing clothes on the banks of Cauvery river when my donkeys ran away suddenly hearing some unusual noise .

I attempted to find what was the reason .

Slowly I climbed a small hillock to see what was that frightening my donkeys .

Much to my surprise I noticed a large battalion of men on horses with ammunition marching towards our direction .

With their attire I guess they should be the moslem invaders .

I am told by my relatives that many temples around us were being looted and desecrated by these invaders.

Acharya , I am scared ..

What would happen to our temple and our Lord Ranganatha .

I am afraid for our families .Please do something .

Swamy Lokacharya was taken aback . He closed his eyes and said ..Don’t worry ..Our Lord will take care ..

He got up majestically and walked towards the deities . Prostrating to Lord seeking his grace He looked at that man and said …

Just go and continue with your routine work . But ! Just keep watching the invaders movements and inform as soon as possible

Swamy Desikar , Swamy Sudarshana suri and other Acharyas assembled and met Swamy Pillai Lokacharyar and concluded it was Ulugh Khan the army commander sent by Tuglak . They had to take a quick decision .

All of them informed the priests for staying beside the deities at all cost , and gave some important tasks to be completed without any delay .

They briefed them about the unexpected calamity that may take place any time and hence instructed the priests to secretly carry the Lordships to the temple without the regular Abhisheka .

The devotees who had assembled were slowly coming to know about the sudden change in the programme as the news spread like fire .

All the assembled devotees silently marched back to their respective homes cursing the enemies who created this unholy trouble.

The Lordships were silently taken back inside the temple . Swamy Lokacharyar called the Chieftain and the Elders of the temple and advised them what could be the steps that may have to take facing the invader.

The objective was not to confront the enemy but to focus their efforts to ensure that the moola virat was not desecrated.

All of them decided that they shall form three groups .

One group shall be headed by the eldest Swamy Pillai Lokachariya, who shall carry the deities of Lord Ranganatha and His concerts in a covered palanquin and proceed southward with few disciples .

Swamy Sudarshana suri took up the task of erecting a stone wall in front of the main sanctorum to misguide the invaders .

A stone wall was constructed with support of many disciples in a short time ..

The third team was to provide cover for the team lead by Swamy Pillai Lokachariya [the team with the deities of our lord and his consorts so that swami had enough time to maintain safe distance from the enemy.

Swami Desika who was the youngest among the Acharyas was requested by Shri Sudarsana suri to go with the third party and somehow save himself so that he at least might be left to propound Sri Vaishnavism and the teachings of Jagatha Acharya Shri Ramanuja.

Shrutaprakashika was the work that was made out of generations of learning’s from Acharyas and an elaborate commentary on JagathaAcharyar Swamy Ramanuja’s Sri Bhasyam .

Sudharsana Suri entrusted his two young sons and manuscript “SrutaprakaasikA” to Swami Desika Swami Desika had an earnest desire that this great work must at any cost be saved . Swami as instructed immediately took up the directions from Sudharsana Suri and was about to leave towards northward with the little boys .

At the temple town , all of them decided in one voice that they will not oppose the army , but behave as if nothing is so serious .. There was a regular update about the Invaders who were approaching . The people were in two moods whether they should remain in town or flee.

Who was to decide and advise them? The people were utterly confused .They decided to take counsel from Lord Ranganatha himself then decided to appeal to the LORD Himself .

They all dropped chits (Tiru Ulla seettu) expressing their opinion and with devotion they drew up one chit which said that all could remain at Srirangam itself.

They decided in was the Lord’s order and remained facing the situation bravely.

The same evening, the invaders marched inside the Srirangam town from Samayavaram .

Thousands of the town’s citizens were harassed and injured .

The terror in which the enemy looted the prosperous town speaks about the bravery of the srivaishnavas there .It was a very sad plight and the bloodbath that followed who resisted will make one cry for our great forefathers who sacrificed their lives . This had been recorded in the History of Srirangam Temple known as Koil-Ozhugu .

The great bloodshed of 12,000 Sri Vaishnavas at Sri Varahaswamy Sannidhi makes it the worst day in the temple town .

Inside the Hall , Swamy saw heaps of corpses lying around .

He somehow braved the boys to lie down unnoticed to give an impression that no one survived .

The little boys stretched underneath along with some of them and our dear Swami also lay down next to them along with the holy book.

Swamy Desikar thus concealed the two boys and himself amidst a heap of corpses and passed the night with caution .

The enemy troops assumed that they were corpses and did not bother to probe. Observing the enemy troops moving away , Swamy slowly took the frightened boys before dawn unnoticed in North-Westerly direction towards Satyamangalam .

He was completely exhausted and was worried with LORD and the other revered Acharyas .

At the other side of the temple , while the enemy was invading the town, the old Acharyar dutifully carried the Lord’s deity with a small group of disciples with utmost caution braving the worst scenarios of terror with fear .

Leaving Srirangam, he had to suffer many hardships during the journey. He had to be wary of the enemy attack while he also had to protect himself and his party from robbers.

He was constantly praying LORD for his mercy and keeping his disciples motivated with LORD’s divya charitam . All of them decided that whatever sufferings may befall them, Lord Ranganatha’s should not face any danger or desecration. After an arduous trek, they reached Jyothishkudi near Madurai. Lokacharya was a man strictly adhering to religious modes of conduct and manners.

He was finding it difficult to secure accommodation and catering facilities on the way. These troubles were common to people in those days but the Acharya had to face more severe hardships as he had to carry Lord Ranganatha without any hardships to the Lord . All through the journey, they had to pass through possible attacks from invaders and thieves. They had to trek hundreds of miles on foot. In spite of all kinds of hardships, the Acharya carefully kept the Lord Ranganatha in his
personal possession.

He was particular that the traditional daily worship of Lord Ranganatha should not be missed and therefore carried the deity himself with greatest care and devotion and proceeded towards the south. Trekking several miles with constant fear of the enemy lack of food and rest had adversely affected the Acharya’s health. Also enroute , he had to face the enemies wrath some occasions injuring him too .

Swamy Pillai Lokacharyar accepted all the sufferings for our LORD .He was mentally distressed about the future . His mind refused to continue living on this earth seeing the tragic state in which Ranganatha had to be kept often hiding here and there .

He wept several times with the unexpected turn of events .

It was like Jatayu the great devotee of Lord Rama injured by Ravana while the latter was carrying away mother Sita, he wept helplessly.

He proceeded to a village called jyothishkudi, which was surrounded by the Anamalai
mountains adjoining thick, dense forests. They found a dilapidated mandapam (ceremonial hall), and decided to retire for the night.

He was exhausted and came to know it was time for him to leave his body. He was surrounded by his great disciples .

Looking at LORD sweating , he said to his disciples , Please fan the Lord as he is also tired coming along with us .

The disciples were sad to see their Acharyar completely exhausted and had tears watching the scene when he was fanning the Lord with those injuries in his body ..

There was a pin drop silence ..With tears He meditated on his Acharyar and father, Swami vadakku thiruveedhip piLLai , pleaded them to forgive him as He could not able to protect Lord Ranganatha .

He could see numerous ants in the small place .

He touched all of them, for the reason they also would be in srivaikuntam along with him , as it is believed that any living being touched by the hands of a Sri vaishnavA is assured mOksha .

He was always pining, ‘Let this body and soul of mine be sacrificed for Lords sake!’ and had his wish fulfilled. He sought nothing for himself, amassed no earthly riches, and laid down his life for a Noble cause and became Lokacharyar .

He once again justified his name as the universal guru, for he delivered even ants and insects until his last moment!!

The most amazing incident was when we can observe millions of ants in that region even this day who could be the descendants of the ants that Swami delivered by his touch.

Lokacharya was one of our esteemed teachers and philosophers who preached equality of men irrespective of caste, place of residence, etc.

After the disappearance of Pillailokacharya the disciples performed the last rites and continued their journey along with Lord Ranganatha towards south passing through a very long route covering Thirukoshtiyur ,Jyotishkudi .Srivalliputhur ,Calicut , Gundulpet , Chittoor Melkote , Sathyamangalam and finally Tirumala in the present Sriranganatha Mandapam where LORD stayed for 60 years .

Click the appended blog post below for details of LORD meeting our Nammazhwar and the divine pastime of Swamy Srisailer with Azhwar and Lordships

https://kazhiyurvaradanblog.in/2017/09/23/thiruvaaimozhi-pillai-vaibhavam-parama-guru-of-lord-ranganathar-swamy-manavala-mamuni-attributing-everything-to-the-lotus-feet-of-his-legendary-acharyar/

The great Iyppasi sravana ( October –November ) festival is celebrated as a mark of respect for Acharyar Pillailokacharya’s sacrifice even today .

He attained the lotus feet of his Acharyar in the tamil month of Adi, on the dwAdasi day. On reading this wonderful divine pastime we need to believe that…

May be our LORD wanted to see himself being protected by his devotees and glorify our respectful Acharyas who had done everything as HIS kainkaryam ..

Who or How else can we explain the need to “save” our Lord!!! who is beyond every thing .

All glories to Swamy Pillai LokaAcharyar

lOkAchAryAya guravE krushNapAdaSya SUnavE |

SamSArabhOgiSandashta jIvajIvAtavE nama: ||

All glories to Swamy Sudarshan suri

All glories to Swamy Desikar…………

“shrImAn venkaTa-nAthAryaH kavitArkika-kesari |
vedAntAcharya-varyo me sannidhattAm sadA hridi |
kavithArkika simhAya kalyANa guNa Saline
Srimathe vEnkateSAya vEdhAntha guravE namaha

aththigiri aruLALar anumathiyOn vAzhiyE
aippasiyil thiruvONaththavathariththAn vAzhiyE
muththi neRi maRaith thamizhAl mozhintharuLvOn vAzhiyE
niththiyam nampiLLai patham nenjchil vaippOn vAzhiyE
nIL vachana bUdaNaththil niyamiththAn vAzhiyE
uththamamAm mudumbai nagar uthiththa vaLLal vAzhiyE
ulagAriyan pathangkaL UzhithoRum vAzhiyE

Adiyen Ramanuja dasan

Pics : Courtesy Google images

video / Pictures credits : Google images shared by several devotees

Sriranga yatra , Perumal pictures ( CDs available in 2 volumes Must watch )

There lived a devotee named ” Lakshmi Narayana ” in this holy place . Narayana spent his entire life doing services to Lord Aramudhan. He was the one who built the Rajagopuram which is app 44-m tall, 11-tiered tower by collecting small small donations from devotees and strived hard to finish the task .  

Lord Aaraamudha perumal ….. Elixir which can never ever produce satiety”

With me goes my entire flock ….the flocks have more merit than the shepherd .. Shatruguna had more merit in following Bharata and Bharata had more merit in following Lord Rama , and our Madhurakavi Azhwar had more merit in following Nammazhwar .. \and Andaal had more merit following Peria Azhwar

Swamy Ramanuja’s replied . ….My child !! When Vibhishana was allowed to approach Lord Rama , no separate invitation was needed for the four attendants who accompanied him..

Lord Sriman Narayana incarnated in different avatharas in this world, for spreading the message of the liberation for the jeevatma from this material bondage . Unsatisfied , LORD summoned His serpent couch, the nitya-soori (eternally free soul) . Adisesha, and instructed, My dear Adishesha ! “Go down to the mortal world and live there for……

As per Lord’s divine command ..Adishesha who appeared as Swamy Ramanuja once again appeared as Azhagiya Manavala Perumal Nayanar…..

Oh Lord !! Tirupati Venkataramana! Could you not remove the screen, the screen of anger, delusion ,arrogance and jealousy, which is taking a firm stand within me, Oh Lord ! that screen which keeps me out of the reach of dharma and other four Purusharthas Dharma ,Artha, Kama and Moksha? Oh Lord !!! This screen […]

At Tirumala !! When the screens opened by themselves……

It is revealed when Acharyar’s gracious eyes falls on a person , his salvation is for sure even if he is deaf or dumb , fool or wise , old or young , man or woman . Swamy Ramanuja was showering his mercy on all the mortal beings at Srirangam few hundred years ago . […]

Long live all devotees , Long live the holy town Srirangam .. (adiyargal vazha aranga nagar vazha…)

Swamy Parasara Bhattar  had a new disciple  . The disciple wanted to know  how  to  identify a srivaishnava  ? Swamy sent his  new  disciple from Srirangam to Tirumala to ascertain from the great devotee Ananthazhwan as what was  the quality of a srivaishnava .   The disciple though bit amused with his Gurus instructions proceeded […]

WHO IS A SRIVAISHNAVA ?

A  true seeker of LORD will  always respect the devotees of Lord .  He  will never distinguish  about their inheritance  of  birth and caste while seeking their association  . A devotees glory  can be seen with  that deep  knowledge and  practices  which takes them nearer to LORD .    Elders advise us that It would be a […]

I am deeply attached to my devotees……… In fact , I am controlled by them ….. “aham Bhaktha parAdheena: hyasvatantra iva dhvija …. sadhubhi: grastha hrudhaya: bahkthairbhaktha jaanpriya:…..

When the Chariot came to grinding halt in front of the great devotee Swamy Perianambi’s house-entrance …

Srirangam Venkatadrischa   SrimushNam Totaparvatam Salagramam Pushkaramcha NaranarayaNAshramam Naimisham Cheti ME SthananyasoU  Mukthi PradhAnivai YetusvashtAksharaIkAka:  VarNamUrthir VasAmyaham TishtAmi KrishNa KshEtrE  puNya SapthakOgatha: AshtAksharasya Mantrasya   SarvAkshara Maya SadA  The above  verse   points out that the eight Swayam Vyakta Kshetrams ,  Srirangam, Tirupathi, SrimushNam, Vanamamalai, Salagramam, Badri,  NaimisharaNyam and Pushkar grant liberation to those who visit […]……

GLORY OF NAIMISHARANYAM— ONE OF THE EIGHT SWAYAM VYAKTA KSHETRAMS

Tears roll continuously …. This day is very special for us , It was a prized darshan … distant dream come TRUE Thanking LORD repeatedly for the mercy praying ardently hearing the vedic chants my eyes look at the divine beauty … Am in a trance suddenly ……….the soul in me rejoices …..Before us stood […]

At Tirumala …. Lord Venkateshwara Abhisheka vaibhavam …….. VenkaTAdri samam sthAnam brahmANDe nAsti kinchana …venkateSa samo devo …. na bhUto na bhaviSyati……..

The  revered  Azhwars and Acharyars  take up upon themselves the burden of saving men who LORD gives up hopelessly for the reluctance in seeking HIM . Do Acharyars really possess these virtue ? An example is quoted from scriptures By a Rishi’s curse a saint was consigned to the nether region , the hellish planets […]

Your assistants dragged me ! but you honor me ! i don’t understand…..’ Yamadharmaraja replied ‘even I don’t understand your greatness; how can they ? You chanted kriSNa’s name once in your lifetime’ Azhwars says .. …. namanum Murkalanum pEsa, narakil nindrArgaL kEtpa narakamE Svargam Agum nAmangaL udaya nambi

The saints believed that God is within all living beings .An important spiritual practice followed by them was the chanting of Lord’s holy names . Remembering Lord and repeating his Holy Name was most important . Another ingredient for the spiritual life was kirtana or bhajans, the singing of hymns of praise of the Lord […]

Sant Namadeva and the dog .. ….Bhajey Pandurangam

Thirukannapuram  Divyadesam  Sowriraja Perumal Temple is located 30 KM from Kumbakonam on the way to Thiruvarur, Tanjore District, Tamilnadu which is one among the Five Krishraranya Kshetrams. The Main Deity is glorified as  Thiru Neelamega perumal  along with  Sridevi and Bhoodevi Thayar . The Processional deity  is worshipped  as   Lord Sowriraja perumal. Lord Sowriraja […]

ThiruKannapuram Lord Sowriraja perumal and Vibheeshana

The ardent desire of any devotee is to seek an everlasting darshan of Lord Venkateshwara at Tirumala  and…   If this darshan is without any  physical disturbance or interference by the volunteers ,  the soul dances in ecstasy. There is no dearth of pilgrims who wouldn’t stop gushing about their opportune darshan lasting for even a  fraction of second […]

At TIRUMALA… “ Its not the darshan you get . It is the darshan ” LORD” bestows”.

Excellent write up and blessed souls

Sri Sri Guru Gauranga Jayatah! Hare Krishna!

Sonnaal virOdam ithu aagilum solvEn kENminO Ennaavil in kaviyaan oruvarkkum koDukkillEn Thennaa tenaavenru VaNDu mural tiruvEnkatathu Ennaanai ennappan emperumaaLuLan aagavE

…You might feel offended if I say this. But, I cannot resist telling the truth for your own good……. Will you hear me?

” Swamy Prativadi Bhayankaram Annan ” Suprabatham is recited during the foremost pre-dawn seva at Tirumala ..

Walking Back………..

There comes a moment in every journey when we have to turn back.

The road that took us away from home slowly brings us back.

The temples become memories.

The darshan becomes something we carry in our hearts.

The voices of the priests become distant echoes.

The prasādam lovingly offered by someone we had never met is already gone.

And yet, something remains.

Something that cannot be packed into a suitcase.

Something that cannot be photographed.

Something that quietly follows us home.

That is how I felt when my Āchārya Yāthirai began to come to an end.

I was walking back to my ordinary life.

But I did not feel quite the same person who had started the journey.

I had gone looking for them

I had travelled to places where our Āchāryas had lived, worshipped, taught and served.

I had stood before the sannidhis of great personalities whose names I had heard all my life.

I had entered Thirumaligais.

I had sat before priests and elders.

Sometimes I had gone with a specific question.

Sometimes I had gone simply because my heart wanted to see the place.

And many times, I received much more than I expected.

A priest would open a door.

Someone would offer prasādam.

An elderly person would narrate a pastime.

A young Archakar would patiently answer my questions.

A garland would somehow come into my hands.

A few words would remain in my mind for days.

Looking back, I wonder whether these were really coincidences.

Or whether the Āchāryas were simply being kind to a very ordinary seeker.

The road behind me

As I travelled back, my mind began walking through the Yāthirai again.

I remembered Srirangam.

I remembered the many Thirumaligais.

I remembered Periya Nambi.

Parasara Bhattar.

Nampiḷḷai.

Piḷḷai Āthan.

Piḷḷai Lokācārya.

Koorathāḻvān.

Swamy Rāmānuja.

And so many others whose lives I had been trying to understand.

Each story seemed to have left something behind.

One showed me humility.

Another showed me service.

Another showed me Bhāgavatha prema.

Another showed me the danger of ego.

Another showed me what it means to put Perumāḷ before one’s own life.

I had begun the Yāthirai thinking that I was collecting stories.

Slowly, I realised that the stories were collecting me.

They were entering somewhere deep inside.

What had I really gained?

I asked myself this question while returning.

Had I become a great scholar?

No.

Had I suddenly understood our granthas?

No.

Had all my weaknesses disappeared?

Certainly not.

If anything, I had become more conscious of them.

And strangely, that itself felt like a blessing.

Earlier, I might have looked at an Āchārya and simply admired him.

Now I was beginning to ask:

What is there in his life that I am supposed to learn?

That was a completely different question.

The Yāthirai had slowly changed the question inside me.

I had started by asking:

“What can I see?”

Now I was asking:

“What can I become?”

From the Āchāryas to the Āḻvārs

And then, somewhere along the return journey, another thought began to grow.

I had spent so much time travelling to the places of the Āchāryas.

But where did the treasure they protected come from?

What was the source of the Divya Prabandham they treasured?

Whose words had inspired them?

Whose pasurams had they preserved, taught and carried from generation to generation?

The answer was waiting for me.

The Āḻvārs.

Perhaps the road was now asking me to turn back even further.

Back to the source.

Back to those extraordinary souls whose hearts melted in their love for Perumāḷ.

A place I could not forget

One of the places that began to occupy my thoughts was Āḻvār Tirunagari.

We had travelled there as part of our Āchārya Yāthirai.

The place itself had a different atmosphere.

The quiet Tamiraparani flowed nearby.

We took a dip in the river, remembering the great devotees associated with its banks.

But our real destination was Śrī Rāmānuja Chaturvedi Maṅgalam.

I wanted to have darshan of the Bhaviṣyad Āchārya associated with Swamy Rāmānuja.

The priest narrated the beautiful traditional account connected with Madhurakavi Āḻvār and Swamy Nammāḻvār, and how this sacred place came to be associated with Rāmānuja even before his appearance.

I stood there listening.

My children were also eager to hear the story.

And I suddenly felt that something very special was happening.

I had come looking for Rāmānuja.

But Rāmānuja was taking me back to Nammāḻvār.

That thought stayed with me.

A chain of love

The more I listened, the more beautiful the connection seemed.

Nammāḻvār.

Madhurakavi Āḻvār.

Rāmānuja.

The Āchāryas who came after him.

And now, generations later, a simple seeker like me standing in that same sacred atmosphere.

I began to see something that I had perhaps never understood before.

The sampradāya was not simply a succession of names.

It was a living chain of love and service.

One generation received.

One generation preserved.

One generation passed it on.

And another generation received it again.

I was standing at the far end of that long chain, wondering whether I had done anything worthy of what had been handed down to me.

The question that followed me home

I remembered the words that had touched me so often during this Yāthirai.

What have I done for the Lord?

That question now seemed to take on another meaning.

I had received so much.

The Divya Prabandham.

The teachings of the Āchāryas.

The stories of the Bhāgavathas.

The opportunity to visit Divya Desams.

The opportunity to sit before learned devotees.

The opportunity to hear the words of our elders.

What had I given back?

Perhaps very little.

And yet, perhaps the Lord does not ask us to become great.

Perhaps He asks us simply to preserve what we have received and pass a little of it forward.

Walking back to earth

The journey was ending.

The car was moving towards home.

The temples were disappearing behind me.

The familiar roads were returning.

My ordinary life was waiting.

But something had changed.

I had gone looking for the footprints of the Āchāryas.

I returned carrying their stories.

I had gone looking at their places.

I returned looking at myself.

And now the road was quietly pointing somewhere else.

Towards the Āḻvārs. Towards Nammāḻvār.

Towards those divine pasurams that had inspired the very Āchāryas whose lives had just humbled me.

Perhaps this was not the end of the Yāthirai after all.

Perhaps I had merely reached another bend in the road.

The road turns

There is something deeply moving about this to me.

I had started this journey with Swamy Rāmānuja.

His name had awakened something in me.

His temples drew me towards him.

His life made me search.

His devotees taught me.

His Āchāryas showed me mirrors.

And now, after walking through that world, I was being led back to the person whom Rāmānuja himself revered so deeply.

Swamy Nammāḻvār.

Perhaps the road had come full circle.

Or perhaps it was only beginning to reveal where it wanted to take me.

I do not know.

I am only walking.

Looking at the signposts left behind by our Āchāryas.

Trying to understand them.

Trying to follow them.

And hoping that somewhere along the way, I may become a little less of myself and a little more worthy of the path they showed us.

A small prayer

Oh Lord Sreenivasaa

Thank You for the Yāthirai.

Thank You for every temple.

Every priest.

Every devotee.

Every Āchārya.

Every story.

Every unexpected kindness.

Please don’t let them remain only beautiful memories.

Let them slowly become part of my life.

I went looking for the places where the Āchāryas walked.

You made me look at the way I walk.

I went looking for their stories.

You made me ask what I am doing with the story of my own life.

And now, as I turn towards the Āḻvārs, please give me the humility to listen.

Let me not approach their pasurams merely as poetry.

Let me try to understand the love that poured through them.

The road has brought me back to earth.

But perhaps…

the journey within has only just begun.

To be continued

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Adiyen Rāmānujadāsan

Pictures : Courtesy Google Images

Previous posts of the above series is appended in the below links

When I Began to Understand What a Vaiṣṇava Should Be

The stories of our Āchāryas have been doing something strange to me.

I began this journey thinking I was going to learn about them.

Slowly, I am discovering that they are making me look at myself.

Yesterday, the story of Nampiḷḷai and Piḷḷai Āthan made me think about ego.

How easily we can feel that we deserve respect.

How difficult it can be to bow when our mind starts comparing age, knowledge, position and status.

And then I began wondering:

If I remove the ego, what should remain?

What does it really mean to become a Vaiṣhṇava?

I have called myself one all my life.

But perhaps I had never seriously asked myself what that actually means.

During one of my Yāthirais,

I heard a beautiful story connected with  Swamy Ananthāḻvān.

It was simple.  Almost playful.

But the more I thought about it, the deeper it became.

The disciple who went to Ananthāḻvān

A disciple from Srirangam was sent to Tirumala to meet Ananthāḻvān.

He had been given a very important question to ask:

“What are the qualities of a Śrī Vaiṣṇava?”

The disciple reached Tirumala and waited to meet Ananthāḻvān.

But there was something very ordinary standing between him and the answer.

He was hungry.  He had to wait for prasādam.

And he waited.  He did not say,

“I have come from Srirangam.”

He did not demand,

“I have come with an important question.”

He simply waited for prasādam.

Eventually,  Swamy  Ananthāḻvān met him and asked him whether he had prasadam

He said  Yes  as he was the last one taking the prasadam .

 He moved near him and asked about the qualities of a Śrī Vaiṣṇava,

 And he gave four very unusual comparisons.

He said:

“Kokkaippōl iruppān.
Kozhiyaippōl iruppān.
Uppaippōl iruppān.
Ummaippōl iruppān.”

Like a crane.

Like a hen.

Like salt.

And like you.

At first, I wondered what kind of answer this was!

What could a crane, a hen, salt and a hungry disciple possibly have to do with being a Vaiṣṇava?

Then the meaning began to unfold.

Like a crane

A crane stands patiently in the water.

It does not pick up everything it sees.

It waits.

It chooses what is useful.

The lesson I understood was that a Vaiṣṇava should learn to distinguish what is worth accepting and what should be left aside.

How much I need that lesson.

My mind picks up everything.

Praise.    Criticism.    Comparisons.   Small hurts.

Unnecessary arguments.

Things that should have been forgotten years ago.

And I carry them around as though they are precious possessions.

Perhaps I need to learn from the crane.

Take what is valuable. Leave the rest.

Like a hen

A hen scratches the ground and finds whatever food is useful.

It does not collect everything.

It knows what it needs.

Again, I found myself thinking about my own life.

I have read so many things.

Listened to so many talks.  Collected so many stories. Visited so many sacred places.

But am I actually taking the essence?

Or am I simply collecting information?

There is a difference between knowing about the

 Āchāryas and allowing their lives to change us.

Perhaps the hen was telling me:

Take the essence.   Do not merely accumulate.

Like salt

This one touched me even more.

Salt dissolves.  You don’t see it.

But its presence changes the entire dish.

And salt tastes the same wherever it is.

The lesson I heard was about the consistency of a Vaiṣṇava.

What we are inside should not be completely different from what we display outside.

Our devotion should not be something reserved only for the temple.

Our humility should not appear only when an Āchārya is watching.

Our kindness should not depend on who is standing before us.

If I put on the appearance of a Vaiṣṇava outside but remain full of anger, pride and judgement within, what have I really changed?

Perhaps a true Vaiṣṇava becomes like salt.

Quietly present.

Not demanding recognition.

But making everything around him better.

And then… “like you”

The fourth quality surprised me.

“Ummaippōl iruppān.”  Like you.

Why the disciple himself?

Because he had been waiting patiently for prasādam.

He had the opportunity to tell Ananthāḻvān who he was and why he had come.

He could have asserted his importance.

Instead, he simply waited.

There was humility in that waiting.

And perhaps Ananthāḻvān was telling him:

That humility itself is a quality of a Vaiṣṇava.

I found this particularly beautiful.

Because sometimes we imagine that great spirituality must look dramatic.

Long prayers.   Deep knowledge.   Extraordinary experiences.

But here was a hungry disciple quietly waiting for prasādam.

And that simple act revealed something about him.

What am I really becoming?

That question stayed with me.

I have been blessed beyond what I deserve.

I have travelled to Divya Desams.

I have had darshan of Perumals.   I have sat before Āchāryas.

I have heard stories of extraordinary devotees.

I have received so many opportunities to learn.

But after all these years, can I say that I have become the person these stories are asking me to become?

I am not sure. Perhaps this is the uncomfortable truth of my journey.

**I have been collecting the signposts for many years.

I am only now learning to walk in the direction they point.**

The crane tells me to choose wisely.

The hen tells me to take the essence.

The salt tells me to become the same person within and without.

And the disciple reminds me to wait quietly without assuming that I deserve anything.

These are not difficult teachings to understand.

But living them?

That is another matter.

Perhaps the journey is becoming clearer

Yesterday, Nampiḷḷai made me look at my ego.

Today, Ananthāḻvān made me ask what should replace that ego.

Perhaps humility.

Perhaps discernment.

Perhaps quiet service.

Perhaps consistency between what I say and how I live.

Perhaps the willingness to remain a small person before Perumāḷ and His devotees.

I began this Yāthirai wanting to see the places where our Āchāryas lived.

Now I am beginning to understand why.

Every Thirumaligai has another lesson.

Every story seems to hold another mirror.

And every mirror shows me how much remains unfinished within me.

A small prayer

My  Saviour   Lord Sreenivasaaa Perumāḷ…

Teach me to be like the crane.

Let me know what to accept and what to quietly leave behind.

Teach me to be like the hen.

Let me take the essence of what my Āchāryas teach me instead of merely collecting knowledge.

Teach me to be like salt.

Let my inner life and outer life slowly become one.

And give me the humility of that disciple who simply waited for prasādam.

Let me stop thinking about how important I am.

Let me become useful.  Let me become gentle.

Let me become a servant of Your devotees.

I know I have a very long way to go.

But perhaps, for the first time, I am beginning to understand where the road is pointing.

Let me not merely call myself a Śrī Vaiṣṇava.

Let me slowly become one. to be continued

Previous blog posts in the series appended below

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Adiyen Rāmānujadāsan

Pictures :   Google images

When an Āchārya Quietly Removes the Ego

There are some lessons that are taught through words.

There are others that are taught through the way an Āchārya lives.

And then there are a few that are taught without the Āchārya saying anything directly to us.

They simply make us look at ourselves.

This was one such story …

During an Upanyāsam at Srirangam, I heard a beautiful incident involving Swamy Nampiḷḷai and Piḷḷai Āthan.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt that the story was not really about Piḷḷai Āthan.

It was about me.

A hesitation to bow

Piḷḷai Āthan was older than  Swamy Nampiḷḷai and was himself a householder.

He wanted to learn one padhikam of Tiruvāymoḻi from Nanjeeyar.

Nanjeeyar directed him to Nampiḷḷai.

But there was a difficulty.

Nampiḷḷai was younger than Piḷḷai Āthan.

And Piḷḷai Āthan found it difficult to prostrate before someone younger than himself.

How easily I could understand that feeling.

Perhaps I would like to think that I would have behaved differently.

But if I am honest with myself, how many such small calculations do I make?

Who is senior? Who is younger?  Who has more knowledge?

Who has greater status?  Who should bow before whom?

The ego does not always announce itself.

Sometimes it quietly sits inside us and tells us that …

we deserve to be respected.

Nanjeeyar understood what was happening.

But he did not want to hurt Piḷḷai Āthan.

He instructed Nampiḷḷai to teach him in such a way that his pride would not be wounded.

The wisdom of Nampiḷḷai

Nampiḷḷai arranged two seats.

He respectfully placed Piḷḷai Āthan on the higher seat.

And he himself sat below.  Then he began teaching Tiruvāymoḻi.

I found this part particularly moving.

Nampiḷḷai did not need to establish that he was the teacher.

He did not need to demand respect.  He simply taught.

And the subject he chose was devotion towards Bhāgavathas, the devotees of the Lord.

As the teaching continued, something began to happen within Piḷḷai Āthan.

The very thing that had prevented him from bowing began to disappear.

His pride slowly melted.  He wanted to prostrate before Nampiḷḷai.

But Nampiḷḷai remembered Nanjeeyar’s instruction and initially did not accept it.

So Piḷḷai Āthan took Nampiḷḷai to Nanjeeyar.

And there, in the presence of Nanjeeyar, he finally fell at Nampiḷḷai’s feet.

The obstacle was gone.   

The disciple had arrived.

And the teacher had never once humiliated him.

What did I learn from this?

I kept thinking about Nampiḷḷai.   What extraordinary compassion.

He knew that knowledge cannot enter a heart that is busy protecting its own importance.

But he also knew that an Āchārya does not have to crush that pride.

Sometimes, the gentlest way is the most powerful way.

He simply created the right situation.

And Piḷḷai Āthan discovered the obstacle within himself.

That touched me deeply.

Because I too have so much to learn.

I may have travelled to many Divya Desams.

I may have listened to many Upanyāsams.

I may have read some of our granthas.

I may know a few stories of our Āḻvārs and Āchāryas.

But what is the use of all this if I continue to carry the thought that I am somebody?

Perhaps the real journey is not about collecting more knowledge.

Perhaps it is about allowing that knowledge to slowly remove what stands in its way.

Nammāḻvār’s words came back to me

As I thought about Piḷḷai Āthan’s transformation, one pasuram of Swamy Nammāḻvār kept coming back to my mind.

Tiruvāymoḻi 3.7.10

அடியார் அடியார் தம்
அடியார் அடியார் தமக்கு
அடியார் அடியார் தம்
அடியார் அடியோங்களே.

The thought expressed here is so humbling:

“We are the servants of the servants of the servants of the servants of the servants of the servants of the Lord.”

I have heard these words many times.

But that day, after listening to the story of Piḷḷai Āthan and Nampiḷḷai, they seemed to speak to me differently.

How far I am from this state of mind.

The first thought that came to Piḷḷai Āthan was:

“Why should I bow before someone younger than me?”

And how often do I carry the same feeling in different forms? I may not say it aloud.

But somewhere within me, I too compare.

Who is senior? Who is younger?

Who knows more?  Who should respect whom?

Why should I accept a correction from him?

The ego does not always come wearing a crown.

Sometimes it hides behind age, knowledge, experience, position or even devotion.

Then I look at Nammāḻvār.

He does not stop with saying that he is the servant of the Lord.

He takes me much further down.

Adiyār.   Adiyār-in adiyār.

Adiyār-in adiyār-in adiyār.

A servant of the servants of the Lord’s devotees.

What a beautiful place to be.

And perhaps that is what I am slowly beginning to understand from the

lives of our Āchāryas.

Greatness is not in being served. It is in learning to serve.

It is not in demanding respect. It is in learning to respect.

It is not in wanting to be recognised.

It is in becoming happy to remain unnoticed.

Perhaps this is the journey

Piḷḷai Āthan did not become smaller when he bowed before Nampiḷḷai.

He became greater. His knowledge did not diminish.

His dignity did not disappear.

Only the unnecessary burden of “I” disappeared.

And perhaps that is what surrender slowly asks of me.

To move from wanting to be respected… to learning to respect.

From wanting to be served… to learning to serve.

From wanting to be recognised…

to becoming happy to remain unnoticed.

And finally, perhaps, to say with  Swamy Nammāḻvār:

“Adiyār adiyār tham adiyār adiyār thamakku adiyār adiyār tham adiyār adiyōṅgaḷē.”

I am only beginning to understand what these words might mean.

Perhaps this is why the lives of our Āchāryas are so precious.

They do not merely teach us what to believe.

They quietly show us what we are still holding on to.

And sometimes, without scolding us, without embarrassing us, without even

directly pointing a finger at us… they make us see our own ego.

Then, if Perumāḷ is kind, perhaps we too may one day be able to let it go.

Perhaps surrender begins where self-importance ends.

A small prayer

My saviour ,,,,, Lord Sreenivaasaaa

Please remove the pride that I do not even recognise in myself.

When an Āchārya shows me my shortcomings, let me not defend myself.

When a Bhāgavatha corrects me, let me not look at his age, position or scholarship.

Let me remember Nammāḻvār.

Let me remember Piḷḷai Āthan.

Let me remember Nampiḷḷai.

And let me remember that I am still learning to become what I was born to be.

Let me not merely call myself a Śrī Vaiṣṇava.

Let me slowly become one.

Previous Blog posts are appended below for quick references

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Adiyen Rāmānujadāsan

Pictures :   Google images

When the Search Became a Seva

After writing yesterday’s post, one memory kept coming back to me.

I had gone looking for Swamy Rāmānuja. But somewhere along the way, the search itself became a form of service.

I did not realise this when I first started.

At Tirukkurungudi, the old priest had simply told me:

“Keep reciting Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ.” I started doing it.

Then I wanted to know more about the Acharyar.

Who was He?

How did He live?

Whom did He meet?

What did He teach?

How did He transform people?

Why did so many great souls surrender themselves completely at His feet?

The questions kept coming.

And I wanted answers.

So I started searching.

Books.

CDs.

Old writings.

Stories of the Acharyas.

Places connected with Him.

Every little piece of information I could find became precious to me.

Sometimes I would read something late at night and suddenly close my eyes and try to imagine the scene.

I could almost see the young Rāmānuja walking.

I could see His disciples around Him.

I could imagine the temples as they must have been centuries ago.

I could imagine the conversations between the Acharyar and His disciples.

The more I read, the more alive He became to me.

It was no longer history.

It became something very personal.

I wanted to share what I was discovering

Slowly another thought came.

If these stories were giving me so much happiness, why should I keep them only to myself?

I began writing about Swamy Rāmānuja. One incident led to another.

I would visualise the episode first and then try to put that feeling into words.

Sometimes I would wonder whether anyone would actually read what I had written.

But devotees started calling.

They would say that while reading the post, they could actually visualise the scene.

Some would tell me that they had never looked at that particular incident in that way before.

Those calls gave me tremendous happiness.

Not because people were praising my writing. I felt something else.

Perhaps the Acharyar was allowing me to share a little of what He had given me.

That was enough.

The Acharyar on the Altar

Meanwhile, Swamy Rāmānuja had become part of our daily life.

He was no longer only in the books I was reading.

He was standing before me in our Thiruvengadam.

Every morning I could see Him. I could recite His name before Him.

I could fall at His lotus feet.

I could speak to Him.

Sometimes I would simply sit before Him without saying anything.

There are some relationships where words are not necessary.

I felt that this was slowly becoming one of them.

I had wanted a deity. Perumal had given me the Acharyar.

And then, as I shared yesterday, the Acharyar did not come alone.

The Āḻvārs came.

The Acharyas came. The Śāligrāmas came.

The home slowly became a place where I could spend time in their presence.

Something else started happening

The more I read about the Acharyas, the more uncomfortable I became with myself.

Not in a negative way.

But I began seeing the difference between knowing about a quality and actually possessing it.

I could write about humility.

But was I humble? I could write about surrender.

But how much had I really surrendered? I could write about Bhagavata prema.

But could I love a Bhagavata who disagreed with me?

I could write about kainkaryam.

But was my service completely free from expectation?

These questions began following me.

The Acharyas had become a mirror.

And sometimes the mirror showed things I did not want to see.

The Meaning of the Mantra Deepened

Earlier, I was simply happy to recite:

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ.

Now the words began to carry a different meaning.

If I say Rāmānujadāsan, then I am saying that I belong to Him.

If I belong to Him, then my conduct should slowly reflect what He taught.

This is not something I can claim to have achieved. Even today, I have a long way to go.

But the awareness itself has become important.

The mantra reminds me. The Acharyar reminds me.

The devotees remind me. Even my own mistakes remind me.

The Recitations Became Another Door

The desire to bring more people into Divya Prabandham recitation also grew.

Initially there were only two of us.

I prayed for more devotees to join. Slowly the number increased.

When I saw nearly twenty devotees participating, I felt that this was not something I had created.

I had only kept asking.

Someone else was bringing them. The same thing happened with the festivals.

The Āḻvār Thirunakshatrams.

The recitations. The temple gatherings.

Everything slowly grew.

And whenever I felt proud, I remembered:

“What did I actually do?”

I had only prayed. The rest was His mercy.

Taking Rāmānuja to Other Homes

Then came the opportunity to give Swamy Rāmānuja’s deities to devotees.

This gave me a completely different kind of happiness.

I would worship the deity at home. Recite several mālās of the mantra.

Perform the purification rites.

Then, on Thiruvadhirai, invite the devotee, offer Mahāprasādam and hand over the Acharyar.

One by one, the twelve deities found their homes.

I often wondered about this.

The Acharyar who had come into my house was now going to another house.

Perhaps that devotee would begin reciting His name. Perhaps his family would begin speaking about Him.

Perhaps someone there would become curious about Rāmānuja.

Perhaps another journey would begin.

And I had been given the small privilege of carrying Him there. What greater joy could there be?

Was the Acharyar Slowly Expanding His Family?

That thought often comes to me.

First He came to our home.

Then the Āḻvārs came. Then the Acharyas.

Then the Śāligrāmas. Then devotees started coming.

Then Rāmānuja deities started going from our home to other homes.

It almost felt as if the family was expanding.

I remembered the feeling I had during the Śāligrāma experience.

When Acharyar decides to come, He brings the whole family.

Perhaps He also decides where each member of that family should go.

I was simply standing somewhere in the middle, watching it happen.

And my own transformation?

It was slow. Very slow.

There was no single morning when I woke up and became spiritual.

It happened little by little. A mantra here.

A temple there. A book. A conversation.

An Acharya. A devotee. A pilgrimage.

A Prabandham recitation.

A mistake. A correction.

A realisation. A tear.

Then another day.

And another.

Looking back, I can see that the journey was being built from hundreds of very small moments.

Perhaps that is how Acharyar works.

Not always with something dramatic.

Sometimes He simply keeps us moving in the right direction.

“Perumal…”

I thought I was searching for Swamy Rāmānuja.

Perhaps You were the one who created that search within me.

I thought I was writing about the Acharyar.

Perhaps You were using those words to correct me first.

Let me never mistake the opportunity to serve for my own achievement.

Let me never become proud because someone appreciates what I write or what I do.

Let me remember that everything came to me through Acharya anugraham.

If You allow me, let me continue carrying the name of Rāmānuja wherever I go.

Let me take His name to a few more hearts before this journey is over.

“I began by wanting to know about Rāmānuja. Slowly, I began wanting others to know Him too.”

“The books gave me knowledge. The Acharyas gave that knowledge a direction.”

“When Rāmānuja entered our home, I thought I had received a deity. Later I felt that I had received a relationship.”

“Perhaps service begins when something that gives us joy becomes something we want to share with another devotee.”

I sat before Swamy Rāmānuja that evening and looked at His smiling face.

I remembered the old priest at Tirukkurungudi.

I remembered the mantra.

I remembered the first deity.

I remembered the Āḻvārs arriving.

I remembered the Śāligrāmas.

I remembered the devotees who came for recitation.

I remembered the twelve Rāmānuja deities leaving our home.

Everything seemed connected.

What began as a simple desire to know my Acharyar had slowly become a desire to serve Him, speak about Him and take His name to others.

And yet I knew…

I had only taken a few steps.

There was still so much to learn.

So much to understand.

So much to change within myself.

Perhaps that was why the thirst was still there……

The search had not ended.

It had only become deeper.….

to be continued ……

Previous posts links appended below

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Adiyen Rāmānujadāsan

Pictures : Google images

When Swamy Rāmānuja Came Home

There are some moments in our life which look very ordinary when they happen. Only much later do we understand how precious they were.

I still remember my first journey to Tirukkurungudi and the words of that old priest.

“Your journey to the Divya Desams is Acharyar’s sankalpam. Keep thanking your Acharyar. Keep reciting Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ.”

Those words stayed with me.

I was so happy that the mantra of our Acharyar had come to me at such a sacred place. From then on, I started reciting it almost with every breath.

But something else happened.

A deep thirst grew within me.

I wanted to know about Swamy Rāmānuja.

Who was this great Acharyar?

What had he done?

Why did his name create such a strange feeling within me?

I started searching everywhere.

I bought books.

I bought CDs.

I searched for every small piece of information I could find.

One book took me to another. One Acharyar led me to another. One incident opened another door.

The more I learnt, the more I realised how little I knew.

But I was not disappointed.

I was happy.

There was a thirst to know more.

And that thirst has never left me.

Then came another small incident

I remember going to Sri Parthasarathy Temple.

After having darshan of the Lord, I prayed for something very simple.

I wanted a deity of Swamy Rāmānuja for worship at home.

I did not know where I could get one.

As I came out, I was reciting inwardly Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Then a Srivaishnava wearing a beautiful Ūrdhva Puṇḍra came along with me.

Somehow he understood what I was looking for and took me to a small shop.

There He was Swamy Rāmānuja.

I still remember the happiness I felt.

I had prayed to Perumal for the Acharyar.

And somehow, the Acharyar had found His way to me.

I brought Him home.

Our home, Thiruvengadam, slowly began to change.

At that time I had no idea what was going to happen.

The Acharyar did not come alone

Slowly, the Āḻvārs came.

Then the Acharyas came.

Then the Śāligrāmas came.

One or two Śāligrāmas became many.

Then many more.

There came a time when the vessels and trays I was using for their tirumanjanam were no longer sufficient.

I had to bring bigger trays.

Sometimes I would smile when I looked at them.

I remembered the Matsya Avatāra, where the little fish kept growing and growing.

Something similar seemed to be happening in our Thiruvengadam.

The Śāligrāmas whom I worshipped and offered tirumanjanam were increasing.

Devotees who came to our home would sometimes bring another Śāligrāma and leave Him with me for worship.

I slowly understood something.

When Acharyar decides to come, He brings the whole family.

His name became part of my day

My day would begin with Swamy Rāmānuja.

I would recite His name.

I would fall at His lotus feet.

Whenever I went out, I would remember Him.

Whenever I started some work, I would remember Him.

During my occupational life, there were many pressures and difficult situations.

There were meetings that would go on and on.

Many times, I would be looking at the clock because my mind was already at the temple.

The meetings were normally expected to finish around 6:30 in the evening.

And surprisingly, on several occasions, the meeting would be postponed.

Sometimes the work for which I was required would suddenly become unnecessary.

Sometimes something would change at the last moment.

I began to feel that Acharyar was somehow making sure that I did not miss His service.

I cannot prove it to anyone.

I don’t want to prove it.

But that was the feeling in my heart.

I trusted Him.

From Two to Twenty

The Divya Prabandham recitations also slowly became part of this journey.

On the Thirunakshatrams of the Āḻvārs, we started reciting their Prabandhams in the temple.

In the beginning, sometimes only two of us would be there.

I would pray:

“Acharya, please bring a few more devotees. Let more people join this recitation.”

Slowly the number increased.

Two became several.

Several became many.

Eventually, nearly twenty devotees were participating.

Whenever I looked at them, I felt grateful.

I had only prayed.

Something else had brought them.

The Āḻvārs came home too

Around the time of the Sahasrābdhi celebrations of Swamy Rāmānuja, the Āḻvār deities also came to our home.

Our Thiruvengadam began to feel like a small world of its own.

The Acharya was there.

The Āḻvārs were there. The Acharyas were there.

The Śāligrāmas were there. The festivals began.

The recitations continued.  And somehow, by His abundant mercy, we have not missed the festivals till today.

The gathering also kept growing.

I could only look at all this and think:

“What am I really doing? Perhaps I am only being allowed to participate in something that Acharyar Himself has arranged.”

Then came another desire

I developed a strong desire to give Swamy Rāmānuja’s deity to devotees.

I wanted other homes to have the Acharyar.

Around twelve Rāmānuja deities came to our home.

Before giving each deity to a devotee, I would perform the purification rites and recite several mālās of Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ.

Every month, on Thiruvadhirai, we would invite the devotee, offer Mahāprasādam and then give the Acharyar deity to them for worship.

One by one, all twelve deities reached their homes.

And I was told that the devotees continued to bring their Acharyar for the temple utsavams and worship Him regularly.

That gave me immense happiness.

Not because I had given something.

Because I had been allowed to become an instrument in taking Swamy Rāmānuja into another home.

Looking back

Sometimes I think about how this started. An old priest at Tirukkurungudi told me:

“Keep reciting Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ.”

I began reciting. Then I developed a thirst to know about the Acharyar.

I started searching for books. Then I prayed for His deity. A devotee appeared and took me to a shop.

Swamy Rāmānuja came home. Then the Āḻvārs came. The Acharyas came.

The Śāligrāmas came. The recitations began.

The devotees came. And then Swamy Rāmānuja began travelling from our home into other homes.

I cannot say that I planned all this. I certainly did not.

That is why I keep wondering… Was I really searching for the Acharyar?

Or was the Acharyar slowly arranging everything so that I would find Him?

A lesson I am still learning

I had started this journey as a religious person.

I followed what my elders had taught me. I visited temples.

I performed what I was supposed to perform.

But something was missing.

There was not yet that deep inner thirst.

Tirukkurungudi changed something in me.

That old priest changed something in me.

The mantra changed something in me.

And Swamy Rāmānuja slowly became more than someone I worshipped.

He became someone I depended upon. That dependence is still incomplete.

I still have my shortcomings.

I still have my ego. I still have much to learn. But I no longer want to remain where I was. Perhaps that itself is another mercy.

 “Perumal…”

I did not know what I was asking for when I first prayed for Swamy Rāmānuja.

I thought I was asking for a deity to worship.

You gave me much more. You gave me the Acharyar.

You brought His name into my breath, His form into my home, His teachings into my thoughts and His devotees into my life.

Let me never think that any of this is my achievement.

Let me always remember that I am only an instrument.

Let me never lose the thirst to know my Acharyar.

Let every breath continue to remember the name that first awakened something within me.

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

“Sometimes we think we are searching for the Acharyar. Perhaps the greater mercy is that the Acharyar has already begun searching for us.”

“I went looking for one deity. He brought an entire family home.”

“I started by reciting His name. Slowly His name began to become part of my life.”

I stood before Swamy Rāmānuja in our Thiruvengadam for a long time.

The altar looked different from the one I had known years ago.

The Acharyar was there. The Āḻvārs were there. The Acharyas were there.

The Śāligrāmas were there.

And I felt very small.

I had gone looking for Him.

But looking back now, I could only feel that He had been looking for me all along.

Perhaps that was another milestone in this journey.

The journey from being born a Vaiṣṇava… to slowly becoming one in spirit

to be continued …….

Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ

Adiyen Rāmānujadāsan

Pictures : Google Images

Previous posts in the series JOURNEY WITHIN is appended in the blog posts below

The Evening My Grandfather Spoke to Me Again

“Some journeys take us to places where our Āchāryas walked.
Some take us back to the place where our own spiritual journey quietly began.”

 Mamandur — Where the Evening Remembered Me

It was a cool evening.

I was sitting on the pial of the outer boundary of the temple at Mamandur—my birthplace.

The sun was slowly preparing to disappear.

The cows were returning home after their day’s grazing.

I watched them walking leisurely along the village paths.

Their bells were ringing softly around their necks.

The dust rose gently beneath their feet.

Somewhere nearby, the little calves were waiting eagerly for their mothers.

Birds were returning to their nests, their chirping slowly changing into the music of dusk.

The crickets had begun their evening whispers among the green fields.

For a few moments… I forgot the world.

I was no longer the person sitting there after decades of life.

I was once again the little boy who spent his holidays in this village.

The same temple. The same surroundings.

But a completely different life.

Almost five decades had passed. And yet…

the evening seemed unchanged.

 The Stick I Once Held

Suddenly, another picture appeared before me.

My grandfather.

I used to hold his stick horizontally and walk with him to the temple.

He would slowly make his way towards the sannidhi.

The priests would watch us.

I still remember his words:

“This boy loves the temple. One day he will keep up my name.”

I did not understand what those words meant then.

I was only a child.

For me, the temple was simply a place of wonder.

The Perumal was someone I loved.

The priests were familiar faces.

The village was my world.

But perhaps… my grandfather had seen something that I could not yet see.

Fifty Years Later

And now…

I was sitting on almost the same pial.

My grandfather was no longer there. The village had changed.

Many old houses had been reconstructed in modern style.

The life of the village had changed.

But the temple remained.

And I was sitting there asking myself:

How did our elders live as Śrī Vaiṣṇavas in those days?

What did it mean to them?

What did they understand that we have forgotten? What did my grandfather see?

Why did he bring that little boy to the temple again and again?

I had come to Mamandur as part of an Āchārya Yātrai.

But suddenly… I felt that I had come here to meet my grandfather.

 And Then He Arrived A car stopped nearby.

An extremely old priest slowly got down.

His son had brought him.

He was finding it difficult to get out.

Without thinking, I moved towards him.

I extended my shoulder.

He placed his hand on me.

I supported him.

He looked closely at my face.

He stared for a few seconds.

Then his eyes brightened.

His toothless smile appeared.

And he asked:

“Are you Gindan’s grandson?” Varadachaary?   I mean 

My heart stopped. I replied softly: “Yes, Swamy.”

He smiled. And said:

“I can see your grandfather in you, dear.”

I cannot explain what happened within me.

It was as though someone had suddenly opened a door to my childhood.

I had gone to support an old priest.

Instead… he had supported me.

 Walking Into the Temple

I gently held his hand.

We slowly walked inside.

His steps were difficult.

Mine were steady.

But spiritually…

I felt that he was taking me inside.

Not merely into the temple.

Into a forgotten part of myself.

His son was parking the car elsewhere.

I was in no hurry. I wanted to hear him.

For some reason…

I felt that the Lord had arranged this meeting.

I had questions.

Questions about our tradition.

Questions about what makes a person a true Śrī Vaiṣṇava.

Questions that had been arising throughout this entire Āchārya Yātrai.

And here, in my own birthplace…

an old priest had appeared.

“Your Grandfather Used to Speak About These Things”

After I brought him some water, he looked at me again.

He said: “Your grandfather used to speak about many things.”

Then he paused.

“There is one thing he used to speak about that you would like to hear.”

I became completely attentive. He continued: “He used to speak about what it means to be a Śrī Vaiṣṇava.”

My heart began beating faster.

It was as though my grandfather had returned through this old priest.

 The Question of  Swamy Nampillai

The priest then narrated an incident from the teachings of Swamy Nampillai and Swamy Nanjeeyar, as preserved in the Bhagavad Viṣayam tradition.

Swamy Nampillai asked his revered Acharya Nanjeeyar a question that remains extraordinarily relevant even today.

He asked: “Swamin, how can one know with certainty that he possesses the qualities of a Śrī Vaiṣṇava?”

What a question!

After everything I had seen during this journey…

I felt that this was perhaps the question I myself had been carrying.

Not:

“Who is a Śrī Vaiṣṇava?”  But:

“How do I know whether I am one?”

 Nanjeeyar’s Answer

Nanjeeyar gave an answer that the old priest repeated with great affection.

He described three essential qualities.

Three signs by which one could examine oneself.

And suddenly… my entire Ācārya Yātrai seemed to converge into these three teachings.

 1. Archāvatāra Abhimānam

The first quality is:

Arcāvatāra Abhimānam

A deep and unwavering conviction that the Lord present in His Arcā form—in our temples and in the Perumal we worship at home—is truly the Supreme Lord Himself, possessing the same supreme powers and glory.

Not a symbol.

Not merely a representation. Not merely a stone or metal form.

But Bhagavān Himself, who has out of compassion made Himself accessible to us.

 Suddenly I Understood My Childhood

I remembered my grandfather taking me to the temple.

Why did that little boy love the temple?

Perhaps he did not know philosophy.

He did not know Vedānta.

He could not explain Arcāvatāra.

But something in that little heart knew:

“Perumal is here.” That was enough.

The child did not ask:

“Is He really here?” He simply loved Him.

Perhaps that was the beginning.

 The Āḻvārs Lived This Truth

The priest explained that our Āḻvārs possessed this extraordinary vision.

They travelled to the Divya Deśams.

They sang before the Lord.

They experienced Him.

They spoke to Him.

They complained to Him.

They praised Him.

They loved Him.

For them…

the Archā form was not an abstraction.

He was alive.

And as I remembered my own journeys to the Divya Deśams, I understood why every temple had begun to feel different to me.

The Lord had never been merely a deity I went to see.

He had become someone I went to meet.

 2. Bhāgavatha Prema

Then came the second quality.

Bhāgavatha Prema

Love for the devotees of Bhagavān.

The priest explained it through a simple comparison.

A person normally loves his own child intensely.

But if he can love a Śrī Vaiṣhṇava with that same depth of affection…

that becomes a sign of Bhāgavata prema.

I became silent.

How easy it is to love those who belong to us.

Our children.

Our family.

Our friends.

But can I love another devotee simply because:

“He belongs to Perumal?”

That is a completely different standard.

 The Journey Had Already Taught Me This

Suddenly so many episodes came back.

Periya Nambi and Māraṇēri Nambi.

Rāmānuja and Dhanurdāsa.

Kūrathāḻvān and the devotees around him.

The lessons at Pettai.

The warnings about Bhāgavatha Apacāra.

Everything was connected.

The Acharyas were not teaching us merely to love Bhagavān.

They were teaching us:

Love those whom Bhagavān loves.

 3. Bhāgavatha Kaṭinokti Bhogyathā Buddhi

Then came the third.

Perhaps the most difficult.

Bhāgavatha Kaṭinokti Bhogyathā Buddhi

The ability to receive even the harsh words of a Bhāgavata as something beneficial.

The priest explained it simply.

Suppose a Śrī Vaiṣṇava rebukes me.

Suppose his words are sharp.

Suppose I feel hurt.

What does my mind immediately say?

“How dare he speak to me like that?”

The ordinary mind reacts.

The ego defends itself.

But the true Śrī Vaiṣṇava asks:

“What is Perumal trying to correct in me through these words?”

 That Was Difficult to Hear

I sat silently. Because this is where spirituality becomes uncomfortable.

It is easy to say:

“I love Bhagavān.”

It is much harder to say:

“I will accept correction from His devotee.”

It is easy to wear Ūrdhva Puṇḍram.

It is harder to allow someone to expose our ego.

It is easy to recite. It is harder to be corrected.

And perhaps that is why this third quality is so profound.

 The Three Jewels

The old priest repeated the three qualities slowly:

Archāvatāra Abhimānam

Deep love and faith in Bhagavān’s Arcā form.

Bhāgavatha Prema

Love for His devotees.

Bhāgavatha Kaṭinokti Bhogyathā Buddhi

The maturity to receive even the difficult words of His devotees without resentment, accepting them as beneficial correction.

Then he smiled.

“If a person possesses these three, he may understand within himself that he has the qualities of a Śrī Vaiṣṇava.”

 I Could Not Speak

I had been searching for answers throughout the Yātrai.

I had travelled to great temples.

I had listened to Acharyas.

I had read stories.

I had written about them.

I had tried to understand the lives of our Pūrvācāryas.

And now…

in the temple of my own birthplace…

an old priest had given me three simple tests.

I felt as though the Lord had placed a mirror before me.

 And the Mirror Asked Me…

Do you truly believe Perumal is present before you?

Do you love His devotees as you love your own?

Can you accept the harsh words of a Bhāgavata without anger?

I could answer only the first with some confidence.

The second…

I still had much to learn.

The third…

I had even more to learn.

 The Boy and the Grandfather

Then I remembered my grandfather again.

His stick.

My little hand holding it.

Our slow walk to the temple.

The priests watching us.

His voice: “This boy loves the temple.”

Perhaps he was right.

But he had added:

“One day he will keep up my name.”

What does it mean to keep up his name?

Not merely to remember him.

Not merely to write about him.

Perhaps it means to preserve what he tried to give me.

Love for Perumal.

Love for Bhagavatas.

Humility when corrected.