Today when I called up Tavayogi he told me that he was in the midst of buying groceries and vegetables in Methupalaiyam for tomorrow's Guru Purnima prayers. Immediately I was brought back in time to the day I went shopping with him on the streets of this town. Since I suggested back then that I would like to do an annadhanam at his ashram, we got onto the car that I had hired throughout my trip to India, and headed for Methupalaiyam. As Tavayogi picked up the vegetables I placed them into a gunny sack that I carried with me. Soon it became heavy. At one moment Tavayogi turned to look at me and realized that I was struggling with the load. He immediately snatched it from my hands, swung the load over his shoulders and walked ahead. That is my guru.
When a colleague of mine slipped and fell on the floor while we were washing the new house that he was going to move into, he had an anterior dislocation where his glenohumeral joint (the ball and socket joint of the shoulder) was dislocated. He fractured his lower arm too. My friends and I took him to the emergency unit of the general hospital in Lumut, where his shoulder was immobilized with a plaster cast and he was sent home. Later he wanted to get an alternative treatment for his shoulder in a small town Bruas, some 47 kilometres away. This old Malay healer removed the cast and started small talk with him. Without any indication or warning he suddenly picked up a wooden mallet and smashed the fractured bones of his lower arms further. He quickly wrapped some leaves around his arm. Then he slotted his shoulder back into its socket and sent us home. Believe me it was scary and my friend was in pain. But soon he recovered well.
If Supramania Swami ignited the Fire Of Devotion in me, Tavayogi nurtured it, often breaking me before putting me back together just as the healer did to my friends arm. As I recall, there were many instances where Tavayogi broke me and my ego.
The day I invited Tavayogi to my home I was on cloud nine, an extreme state of perfect happiness. After Tavayogi sang a few hymns, we served him lunch. After a few moments of talk we left for Batu Caves where he was staying while in Malaysia. We had hardly got into the car and taken the corner with my nephew at the wheel, when I started thanking him for coming over. I told him that I had never gone to meet saints, gurus and other holy men much less have them come over to my home before this. The only time I saw them was when by coincidence I happen to be in the temple and they were there too. I told Tavayogi that he was the very first saint who accepted my invitation to have lunch and had graced my home. Immediately he answered, "Neengal mayaiyil molgi kondu irukindreergal Magane. Yennidam ondrum illai. Intha kaavikkul yetho ondru irukkindrathu yendru yennugireergal. Naan samy alla, verum aasamy." What he said was that I was living in Maya or illusion; that he had nothing on him; he said that he did not have anything within his safron robes as I thought; and finally told me he was not a holy man but a bogus guru." That came as a shock to me and it was painful. We remained quiet throughout the journey back.
Today I am grateful to him for breaking me that day. Knowing me and the excitement in my at having a guru, I would have immediately exploded his photo and framed it, garlanded and worshipped him. He pointed me to the source instead. He showed me Agathiyar.
Soon I was in his ashram. As we went to the river to have our bath, we left our slippers and sandals on the river bank before wading into the chilled and cold water that made its way from the Ooty mountains. When it was time to leave, Tavayogi decided to take me on another path, so that I could see the footprints of the wild elephants and other animals. But as our footwear was on the other bank, he began to wade through the waters to fetch it. Even after I told him that I shall fetch it he turned a deaf ear to my wailings and pleadings. That is my guru.
When we began our travel to the Siddha caves and temples, we took a dip at the Agasthiyar falls at Kalyana Theertam. We washed our clothes too. His vesti and shirt dried very fast but I had trouble with my "baggage" of pants and shirts. So I packed them again, all still wet and made our way to the Kutralam caves for the night. Tavayogi seeing me struggle with my bag and dirty linen, snatched my dirty linen and hurried ahead, even as I made a hue and cry. Next morning I washed my soiled clothes again at the falls outside Agathiyar's cave now known as Avvai's cave and dried them. It did not dry as well. As we made our way down again Tavayogi carried my cloths although I protested again. That is my guru.
When he was at my home again several years later, my family and I watched him and Mataji set up all the things for the prayer, homam and abhisegam that was to be done. He had initiated me to conduct the homam over the phone some months back. We learnt through watching them, fine tuning the rituals and adding on what we had missed to do.
With him it was little lessons that I had to pick up along the way. He hardly sat and explained things to me. Neither did I have any questions to ask. That is my guru.
Today I am grateful to him for breaking me that day. Knowing me and the excitement in my at having a guru, I would have immediately exploded his photo and framed it, garlanded and worshipped him. He pointed me to the source instead. He showed me Agathiyar.
Soon I was in his ashram. As we went to the river to have our bath, we left our slippers and sandals on the river bank before wading into the chilled and cold water that made its way from the Ooty mountains. When it was time to leave, Tavayogi decided to take me on another path, so that I could see the footprints of the wild elephants and other animals. But as our footwear was on the other bank, he began to wade through the waters to fetch it. Even after I told him that I shall fetch it he turned a deaf ear to my wailings and pleadings. That is my guru.
When we began our travel to the Siddha caves and temples, we took a dip at the Agasthiyar falls at Kalyana Theertam. We washed our clothes too. His vesti and shirt dried very fast but I had trouble with my "baggage" of pants and shirts. So I packed them again, all still wet and made our way to the Kutralam caves for the night. Tavayogi seeing me struggle with my bag and dirty linen, snatched my dirty linen and hurried ahead, even as I made a hue and cry. Next morning I washed my soiled clothes again at the falls outside Agathiyar's cave now known as Avvai's cave and dried them. It did not dry as well. As we made our way down again Tavayogi carried my cloths although I protested again. That is my guru.
When he was at my home again several years later, my family and I watched him and Mataji set up all the things for the prayer, homam and abhisegam that was to be done. He had initiated me to conduct the homam over the phone some months back. We learnt through watching them, fine tuning the rituals and adding on what we had missed to do.
With him it was little lessons that I had to pick up along the way. He hardly sat and explained things to me. Neither did I have any questions to ask. That is my guru.