The Prapanjam has provided us well with sustenance. The divine created us well equipped for us to go about our lives. It brought together a family, siblings, partner, and children to cheer and brighten our otherwise lonely life. Amidst all these it wanted us to spare some moments for it too. Are we doing it? We seem to devout our entire life caring for ourselves and our needs. Occasionally we pass a thing or two to the person next to us telling ourselves that we have done our part in giving charity. Our daily worship, if we do it, is to stand before the altar and raise our hands in prayer and ask for more goodies in life. Life has become mechanical. Everything else too has become mechanical in nature. The natural world doesn't amaze us anymore. Its beauty and sights don't amuse us. The natural sounds don't bring joy to us. Nature around us doesn't touch and rekindle us. Man has become a machine too. He has become numb to the many magical moments around us. Even on a walk-through in nature, we keep talking instead of taking in the sights and smells of nature. Even sitting in its midst we stare not at the greenery around us but the smartphone screen. Even when accompanying a temple chariot we still talk incessantly about other matters. Even while queuing up to see the deity we continue our stories. We are missing a lot. We fail to live in the present. Our mind is engaged in continuous activity. There is never a moment when it settles.
Looking around us and looking back at history we see scientists and researchers have made a notable difference. Their inventions have changed the face of the world. We are grateful for every discovery they made. These have benefited millions. We are grateful for every product that accentuates our homes and lives. But if we are not disciplined in using these gadgets or not in control, they take over our lives. Before the pandemic, we saw devotees in temples raising their arms up. If we thought that they were raising their arms up in prayer, we were disappointed. They raised their hands to take pictures and videos. During family dinners and reunions, each member brings out his smartphone and looks at it. He won't even know if a fly sat on his food and he swallowed it. He doesn't savor the food anymore but gulps it down his digestive track mechanically. His walk has changed now with his head lowered watching the smartphone. We are so engrossed in technology that we wake up to the smartphone rather than see the palms of our hands as our elders once did. Technology has to be used wisely.
Not all is lost though. It has made tremendous strides in the fields of manufacturing, medical, and space travel among others. If our ancestors had to live with blindness before, science has made men, women, and children who were blind see again.
I know now the joy of regaining one's eyesight. I did not know I had a cataract in both my eyes. When I went to the eye clinic at a hospital for frequent headaches in 2012, they did not tell me I had a cataract then. I suppose it must have developed later. I had always gone to the optician regularly to check and have a new pair of glasses made, the last one in 2020. Obviously, they could not tell me either. It was only when I took my daughter to check her eyesight for her problem that I discovered I had a cataract. We have been operated on. I realized that I had seen the world in a different shade of color all this while. White wasn't actually white. Now it is. I have begun rediscovering the colors of the world again. It simply amazes me. Can't wait for the pandemic to be over when I want to go back into nature to explore its beauty. My daughter's eyesight too was saved thanks to the doctors and nurses, the technology made available, and to our beloved guru Agathiyar who looked over all matters.
We have to take stock of our lives. It's never too late. We have to look for a purpose in living, coming out of the mundane. We need to spend more time looking around and looking at the small miracles that happen each moment. We are grateful to the many documentary channels for bringing these wonders into our living rooms. Let us bring our children out into nature more often once we are able to. I believe this pandemic has made us treasure those moments when we could safely go out on a picnic, a swim, or on a nature trail or hike. It has surely made me appreciate life.
If the Bhogis indulge in excessive pleasure and bring on themselves pain and diseases, the Yogis torture their bodies to attain enlightenment. The Rogis who are left out without a purpose start disturbing the other two. Let us take stock of our lives. Before we know it Dr. Doom shall knock on our door reminding us that it's time to leave. Even then we try to stall him telling him that there is so much more to do and accomplish both for himself and for others too. But it is too late. Whether we like it or not he thugs the rope that binds our soul reaping it away as the body falls to the ground. Our soul isn't prepared for these moments and laments crying aloud. A friend's uncle was shouting aloud on his deathbed at the hospital accusing "someone" of reaching into presumably "his pant pockets" as he was seen brushing his sides, and dipping their hands into his money! He still had a strong hold on money even when he breathed his last. Those with desires suffer a long death, struggling to leave, wanting to hold back. For some, they do not realize that their soul has separated and they only learn that they had died the hard way, witnessing from afar, their cries not heard and not able to reach out to their family and friends. For the one who is trained as in the Buddhist monks in the monastery and some masters who learned to face death, they determine their time of passing away. This is going into a state of samadhi, reaching out and merging with the source on our own accord. This is truly attaining Siva Patham or the feet of Shiva and not otherwise. This is only achieved with training and preparedness. Watching the Nepali documentary movie "Karma" we see the Reverend nun of the nunnery slowly leave her body with awareness and fully prepared. She tells the second in line, "The time has come... I wonder how it will be when I leave you all... Promise to guide me firmly... I will soon know the value of my practice... Today I have this desire to drink from your hands... We go back a long way, don't we? It seems the time has come... I am ready."
To make it easy on her soul and help her consciously leave and move into the other realm she is guided by the nun who is next in line. The nun keeps speaking to the Reverend. "Can you hear me? Rich or poor, no one can escape the inevitable when it comes. Your thoughts will scatter like sheep running in different directions. Watch them gently bring them back to its nature. Now death is at hand. Try to recognize the process for what it is. At this moment settling your mind on your Root Lama, pray. Don't worry about the nunnery and us."
The soul leaves with the thought of the Moola Guru or Root Lama. How beautiful. In these days where the next in line of missions are impatient to take charge, champion, or challenge their rightful ownership of the establishment, here we do not see powerplay or impatience to lead. These nuns have completely surrendered themselves to the will of Buddha. Sadly this does not happen in our society. We wail and cry and make things worst for the soul, even more difficult for it to depart.
We are blessed that although in the heyday of the British Colonial Empire, Indians were treated badly, one good thing that came out of it was the abolishment of the ritual suttee where the widow jumps into the burning pyre of her deceased husband either voluntarily or forced by her relatives.
In the 16th century, steps to prohibit suttee were taken by the Mughal rulers Humayun and his son Akbar. Suttee became a central issue under the British Raj, which first tolerated it, then inadvertently legalized it by legislating conditions under which it could be done, and then finally, in 1829, outlawed it...... (Source: https://www.britannica.com/topic/suttee)
When I was with Supramania Swami in 2005, he told me he shall pass away when he was 76 years of age. He should know for he was an astrologer too. He did pass away on 7 February 2007 when he turned 76. But what surprised us all was that he had noted the exact date and time of his passing in his diary that was recovered by his family after his death. He too had returned from the hospital giving him a clean slate. He had gone in for chest pain. He told me he was going into a 48-day silent fasting regime and he would not be speaking to anyone. I mistakenly called him a few days after he was into the fast that began on the eve of Thaipusam on 1 February 2007. He answered the phone. I apologized for breaking his fast. He replied that he did not mind talking to me. He told me that he had seen the Jhothi and had to work on it further. I was so happy for him. He told me further that he wanted to extend his fast to 60 days and asked me to arrange to feed a thousand people around Tiruvannamalai after its completion. These were his last words to me. A week had only gone by when we received the news of his departure. I did not shed a tear for I knew all his dreams were fulfilled. His 40-year yearning to build a temple was fulfilled in a sense though a Siddha stopped him from pursuing it further. We built a kudil or cottage for him to call his own close to his guru Yogi Ramsuratkumar's ashram. What I did not expect was that he rewarded me by giving away all his merits attained from his lifelong tapas to this undeserving soul. Agathiyar did not classify his passing as death but instead told me that he had gone into samadhi. He should know for he sees the soul while we only see the lifeless body.
When Tavayogi sought medical attention at the hospital for a urinary infection, he was also diagnosed as having three blockages. He succumbed to further complications, after the operation. The last words he spoke to me over the phone was that in the event he doesn't return to his ashram, Mataji Saroini Ammaiyar will lead the ashram. Asking to be discharged on 3 June 2018, he spent two hours at his ashram before passing away. I did not shed a tear for I knew that he was with Lord Shiva. Agathiyar had told his daughter in the Nadi many years back that Lord Shiva and Parvathi would come in a Pushpavimanam or Flower Chariot to usher his soul back. Dhanvantri came later to inform us that they did not classify his passing away as death as some quarters believed but instead told us that he had gone into samadhi. He should know for he sees the soul while we only see the lifeless body. A devotee had a dream shortly after his passing away, where Lord Shiva was ferrying several souls in a boat with Tavayogi one of them, heading for an island paradise populated by sages and Siddhas. Supramania Swami who purposely left an opening in the wall of his living area of his kudil told me that he wanted a clear view of the holy hill of Arunachala while lying on his traditional woven bed the Manji. On my visit in 2005, I saw that he had closed the opening with a gunny sack. Calling the hill "Hill of Fire" or Neruppu Malai, he reasoned that the hill that glowed was too much for his eyes to behold. But he did mention seeing sages and Siddhars atop it.
We too have to be prepared. If one has unfulfilled desires the soul will find it difficult to detach itself from the body. My late father died peacefully at home. He did not have any wants. He was a happy man. Though a wealthy man in his prime he gave away his property and money. In his final days, he stayed with my elder brother. I guess my father had learned the art of dying in peace at some time in the past when he served a master in an ashram in India. Originally from India, he returned to India to settled for good in an ashram. But the master after some time told him that he had responsibilities towards his family in Malaysia and asked him to return. He returned but never went back. He was a relatively quiet person speaking only when there was a need. He did not have friends come over for a chat. He was never seen hosting parties; neither did he attend them. He used to talk with God sharing his troubles with none other. He would do gardening and watch the television. The day he passed away 12 December 1991, when he asked that my mother iron his clothes that should have rung a bell. He asked my mother to make him coffee. That too should have indicated that something was amiss for throughout his life he made his own coffee. He had just watched completely the weekly Tamil movie aired on the local station. When my mother returned with the coffee he was not in his chair that was "parked" beside the front entrance. He was instead seated on the floor in the opposite corner. Only the white of his eyes (sclera) was visible (His pupils were raised, merged on the Ajna). Seeing his legs were tugged in (Padmasana pose) my mother pulled at them releasing his twisted legs. My father toppled over onto her lap. He passed away peacefully. His last moments came as a surprise to us for we had never seen him do any form of Yoga practice. I regret that I had not tapped into his knowledge and experience staying at the ashram. I do not even know who was his guru.
Traditionally being moneylenders hailing from the village Kilasevalpatti in the Sivagangai District, he worshipped Lord Vengadasalapathy (Lord Vishnu) and later moved to the worship of Lord Muruga. 10 years later I received a Lord Vishnu mantra mysteriously conveyed through my nephew. I was told that reciting the mantra would prepare me to meet my guru. The source was revealed later. It was from Agathiyar. A year later I read the Nadi. Agathiyar came as my guru. He in turn told me that I shall meet my guru in the physical form. The following year I met Supramania Swami at Tiruvannamalai. Agathiyar introduced me to a guru on the Siddha path later in 2005. I met Tavayogi Thangarasan Adigal of Kallar Ashram, India in Malaysia. My discipleship to gurus in physical form stopped with them. The Siddhas came to teach us directly bringing the deities with them too. I guess my father had put in a good word to them asking that his children too be saved.