Some time back, a lady devotee called me while I was at my daughter's house, asking me if she could come over to see Agathiyar at my home. She ran her life story on the phone itself and explained the reason for seeing Agathiyar. I listened to the lengthy story and quipped that her story had all the ingredients to make a full-length movie. I had stayed away from seeing people and listening to their problems then. As such, I was reluctant to meet her at my home. But when she said something that shocked me, I had to give in, for I did not want to carry the burden of guilt for not admitting them into my home to see Agathiyar. Her daughter was talking about suicide! I left for my home, asking them to come over. Meanwhile, thinking about what I should do, I decided that I would have them sit at the Homam and bathe the Agathiyar statue later. And so I had them light the sacred fire pit when they came over. Agathiyar came through a devotee and told me to ask them why they came. She ran the story that she had narrated to me over the phone. Agathiyar told her to place all her worries and problems into the sacred fire, hence burning them into ashes. He told me to forgo the bathing ceremony that I had in mind and have them sent home. Today the family is happy and grateful to Agathiyar.
Just days ago, the lady asked to come over again, wanting to bring her sister along, who was grieving from having lost her 20-year-old son to meningitis. Again, I did not know how to console them. For one who never saw a day of joy, her son was her only solace. The irony was that they were staunch devotees of Agathiyar. It grieved me to see them in pain. As I had no answers, I asked Agathiyar why they had to go through it all. I was equally lost for answers.
If everything, including the sufferings and calamities, were perfect, as all the saints have come to understand and claim, should we then lift a finger to help, move, or shape another's life? Would not that be interfering with the divine play? Sadhu Om, too, brings us the teachings of his guru Bhagawan Ramana in the form of songs: that all was perfect, and asks us to just do what we came for. Why then did Ramalinga Adigal and Mother Teresa lend a hand to society? Why did the Siddhas ask Lord Brahma to change the fate of man? I was confused. If it was Karma, fate, and destiny, why do doctors and nurses step in? Why do the rescue teams step in during disasters? Why did Agathiyar ask to feed the hungry? Why does he have strangers come by and change their fate?
Then, watching Ram Dass speak on his anger towards injustice,
"Every time I would get caught in something, I got caught in anger about somebody being adharmic, meaning doing something that isn't in the spirit. Okay? Somebody rips somebody off or something like that. And I'd get angry. Maharaj, he would get so frustrated with me, and he'd say to me, "Don't you see it's all perfect?"
I understood it when he said,
And here was the paradox that all he was telling me to do was to recognize the perfection of it all and, at the same moment, work full-time to relieve the suffering of it.
He adds that,
And that literally is the paradox that a spiritual person lives in the world with, which you could put another way: that the higher consciousness is tuned to God, to the law, to the way of things, to the perfection of the unfolding of the living spirit in form. The ability to see the perfection of the universe, including the suffering, that God didn't make a mistake. That's all perfect. And at the same moment, to do everything in your power to be an instrument of that which relieves suffering, just because that's the part you play in the whole dance. Not because it's better or worse. You're just playing that part in the whole structure of the game. That's the thy will. You surrender. Because once you are aware of these higher planes, you cannot do things that create more suffering.
Now I fully understand why Agathiyar asked that I step aside and allow him to use my home and me to help his devotees, after my wife and I told him to bring a stop to his divine play and lila that he carried out on strangers whom he brought knocking on my door beginning in 2010. I understand why Lord Muruga, too, said the same, asking me to step aside as he brought the heavens down in 2018.
So when the family poured their heart out to me days ago, I prayed to Agathiyar to remove their grief. As Agathiyar was known to address us and even asked us to place calls to others whom he spoke to over the phone, I placed a call to a devotee through whom Agathiyar often comes, asking him to head to his prayer room with the phone. Agathiyar addressed me over the phone and asked that the family light an oil lamp and shed all their problems and troubles before his statue. He told me that he would see them personally on another day.
Was he buying time? Is he in consultation with Lord Brahma? Who can fathom the mysteries and divine play of their lila?
As many ask, I too often asked why God does not save those who have arrived at his doorstep. We can accept it if they are engaged in many forms of vice and never give a thought to him. But taking away the lives of pilgrims in holy places is too much to stomach and comprehend. Then Jay Lakhani addresses this beautifully, referring to the Gita that explains it all.
Social media videos are asking, if these were devotees traveling towards Kailash, why didn't Shiva save them? Rather than allowing tragedy to weaken someone's faith or using suffering to attack spirituality, I want to look at this question calmly and compassionately through the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita. exploring life and death, free will, karma, the laws of nature, and what spirituality actually promises us. So let us begin with perhaps the most important question. When did spirituality ever promise that devotion makes the human body indestructible?
Some even use this tragedy to mock faith itself. I think we need to be extremely careful when families are grieving, when people are still searching for loved ones. This is not the moment to use human suffering to score points, either for religion or against religion.
But the question deserves an answer. Perhaps the mistake begins with our definition of God. When did spirituality ever promise us that devotion makes the human body indestructible? A person may pray every morning, meditate every evening, and live an extraordinarily compassionate life. That does not mean floods will move around their house, cancer will avoid their body, or an accident will stop because they are spiritual. The Bhagavad Gita never makes such a promise. In fact, Krishna teaches almost the opposite. From the Bhagavad Gita 2.20, for the self, there is neither birth nor death. It is not slain when the body is slain. This is one of the Gita's most profound teachings. The body is temporary. The self is not. We know intellectually that every person who is born will eventually die. Yet somewhere within us, we create an unwritten contract with God. I worship you; therefore, protect me. But spirituality is not an insurance policy against mortality.
This is beautifully said in the verses of a song that drives the arrow deep into our hearts and pierces them, shredding all the false notions and pretentious image and form that we portray outwardly in the guise of being spiritual.
Jay Lakhani continues, proposing actions to counter and address these adversities.
Think of the ocean. A person who understands the ocean deeply does not expect the waves to stop because they love the ocean. Understanding teaches them how to live with its reality. Nature operates through extraordinary forces: rivers, mountains, glaciers, earthquakes, storms, birth, aging, and death. We should investigate disasters scientifically, improve warning systems, and learn whether human decisions could have reduced the consequences. Faith should never replace human responsibility.
This brings us to free will. At the end of the Bhagavad Gita, after giving Arjuna extraordinary spiritual wisdom, Krishna says, "Reflect fully upon this and then do as you wish." Chapter 18: 63. Think about that. Krishna does not turn Arjuna into a puppet. He gives him wisdom and responsibility. That means spirituality should make us more responsible, not more fatalistic. We must use science, build safer infrastructure, respect nature, develop warning systems, help those in danger, and when tragedy happens, rescue, donate, comfort, and rebuild.
And what about karma? Personally, I would be extremely cautious. To look at someone who has lost a child and say that was their karma is not spiritual wisdom. It is speculation about something we cannot possibly know. Karma can be a powerful principle for examining my own actions and my own life. It should never become a weapon for explaining somebody else's suffering.
I totally agree with him. Though we are told that this is partly the reason and contributes to our sufferings, I have avoided bringing up the "word" to address people's sufferings when face-to-face with them. The Siddhas can speak about it. The saints can too, for they stand apart from it. I can convey this in my blog as their findings and teachings. But how can I, who equally carry baggage, speak about another's load? I have to worry about my load and find ways to put it down.
So when someone asks why didn't Shiva save his devotees? Perhaps the deeper question is who told us that God promised the body would never suffer or die. The purpose of spirituality is not to make us physically immortal. It is to awaken us to something deeper than the temporary body while teaching us how to live this temporary life with wisdom, courage, and compassion. And right now, perhaps the most spiritual response is not debating why Shiva did or did not intervene. It is asking what we can do for those who are suffering. That is where philosophy must end, and humanity must begin. These are deep questions, and spirituality does not always give us simple answers.
Just as he says, "that is where philosophy must end, and humanity must begin", Ramalinga Adigal took it from there, ending religion and religious practices and bringing us to show compassion to all, just as the Buddha did. I guess that they both had hit the ceiling, and it dawned on them that God was not in heaven but in all of his creation.