umashiv

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

After I had completed this project, I came across yet another form of Ganapathi called Shubha Dhrishti Pillayar. This image, the result of a vision experienced by a religious sculptor , was a kind of an amalgam of all major deities. Here was a Pillayar embodying in himself aspects of Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma and Devi. It was a divine force that led me to discover this image and also allowed me to paint it to my satisfaction.

There is a reason I mention this. I finished work on my 32 Pillayars on Guru Purnima day in July 2004. I prayed for my Guru’s blessings and mentally dedicated all my art work to him. I was absorbed in meditation for a long time and seemed to get a strong
mental suggestion from my Guru to do another painting. He wanted me to do a massive reproduction of the Sri Chakra.

A few weeks prior to this, I had a marvellous vision in my dream of the Kamakshi Amman at Maangadu. In my dream I was busy painting a huge six feet image of her with the Sri chakra at her feet. About the same time, I had yet another intriguing dream. The scene, as if I can see it clearly now, is my mother’s room in my family home. A priest enters the room in a state of great distress. He informs my mother and my second brother (who is also there), that an idol has been lost from the MEL MAADI puja room and is going to cause us all some bad luck. I see a lot of servants engaged to find the missing idol. However, none can trace it. The dream ended on a rather sad note. The very next day I called my mother and related the vision. She reassured me that nothing had been lost from our puja room.

I was relieved to hear this. However, the uneasiness persisted. It was several months later that I discovered that a small statue of the Goddess Bhuvaneswari given by Swamigal to another sibling, had indeed been broken by accident and no longer remained in the
house. So, my dream had been right. I was not hallucinating as my mother believed! That was a relief for me.

Now, during my meditations on Guru Purnima day, I received another message from my Guru. He asked me to return that idol back to the temple at Salem and place it beside his Samadhi. This suggestion came just after the request for me to paint the Sri Chakra.
However, as the time of writing this, I have no idea how this request will be fulfilled. I have simply prayed to him for guidance. On the other hand, I was naturally very interested in the subject of Sri Chakra. I had already done a lot of digging on this topic because of strong thoughts in that direction. I knew how to draw this geometrical shape that represented the great vedantic truths of identity between the atma and paramatma. I was also aware of the significance of the yantra. In fact, during this time, I was fortunate to make e-mail acquaintance with a disciple of SHRI Shanthananda Swamigal who lives in Texas. This man seemed a veritable storehouse of knowledge. An astrologer, mathematician, philosopher as well as a Sri Vidya Upasaka, he exuded the quiet confidence that comes from the great accumulation of knowledge.

I exchanged a couple of letters with him and in the process obtained a few moola mantras for the worship of Ganapathi. In fact, in one of his letters he had asked me if I was interested in taking up the Sri Vidya Puja for devi. This is also called the Navavarana puja and represents the ultimate truth of the identity between Devi and worshipper. I felt I was nowhere near qualified to undertake this kind of demanding ritual. Also, my interests lay more on the philosophical plane, not really the ritual part of our Vedas. I informed this man I would take up the puja if my Guru so ordained it.

However, I wanted to execute the portrait of Kamakshi Amman and the sri chakra without further delay.

One auspicious day, I chanted the Rudram, lalitha sahasranama and trisathi, and after dutifully paying obeisance to my Guru, placed the blank sheet of drawing paper
on the table. Even before I could put pencil down on the paper, the door bell rang and there was a special courier delivery for me. My mother had finally sent me, after several months of my request, a small snapshot of the Shubha Dhrishti Ganapathi she was able to lay her hands on in Madras. Something inside my mind told me not to proceed with the Sri Chakra just then. Instead, I started painting the Shubha Dhristi Ganapathi, also known for his power to ward off all evil spirits immediately. Within a few weeks, this image was
finished. Summer vacation was upon us and the whole month of August went by without any other artistic output. However, every day during this period I was reciting either the Devi Mahatmyam or the Lalitha Sahasranamam. While on holiday, I had another vision,
around the time of Varalakshmi Nombu.

In this dream, I found myself part of a crowd of people, waiting expectantly for the arrival of someone. It was not long before I saw Her. There was Amma, Matha Amritanandamayi, walking slowly down the path, with devotees thronging each side of it. I felt myself being jostled in this crowd. As Amma walked close to me, I bowed down respectfully. However, to my intense surprise, she came straight towards me, singled me out from the crowd and placed a blood-red spot right in the centre of my eye-brows. Then, she vanished.

I awoke, rather puzzled by the significance of this dream. In a week’s time, I returned back to London from the U.S. The minute I walked through the door of my flat, I stooped down to pick up some mail that had been delivered in my absence. Right on top of a pile of correspondence was a newsletter. There was a large photograph of Amma and an announcement that she was scheduled to visit London on October 12th. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, a little voice said this was no ordinary coincidence.

The very next day, I set about painting a huge portrait of Maangadu Kamakshi Amman. I wished to depict her with the chakra at her feet. I went to the craft store I normally get my art supplies from. I picked up several sheets of drawing paper and some tubes of paint. When I went up to the cash desk to pay for my purchases, I smiled and said “Hello” to the lady at the cash register. Over the past few years, I had become a regular customer at this shop, and this assistant knew me by sight quite well. However, on that particular day, we got talking a bit more than usual. “What do you paint?”, this lady asked me. “You seem to be buying a lot of gold paint tubes from us”. So, I replied that I do paintings of Hindu religious deities. I did not want to embark on any complicated explanation because I thought it would go over this person’s head. The lady digested this information for a minute. Then she asked me “Do you know Amma?” I was taken
aback. I didn’t think for a minute that a shop assistant in Chelsea, London would have ever heard of her!

Immediately, I warmed up to her. We spoke at great length about my paintings and what they meant to me. She said she was looking forward to meeting Amma when she came to London in October. She also told me she had volunteered to help at the venue by cleaning
all the toilets! I felt humbled to hear this and I informed her I was going to do a massive painting of Devi and intended to bring a photograph of it so Amma could bless it. “Good luck on your painting”, she said, and I left. For the next two weeks I was totally engrossed with my painting. Each day I would recite the Devi Mahatmyam, followed by the Lalitha Sahasranama and then start work. I also meditated on the symbolism of the Sri chakra .

There is no doubt that this enigmatic, geometrical shape called Sri Chakra is the greatest symbol of this whole universe. It also represents the body of the Goddess Kamakala who resides in the central point Bindu, in addition to permeating this entire universe.
Therefore, by meditating on this shape of the chakra understanding what it stands for, we understand the basic Vedantic truth that establishes the identity between the individual jeeva and Brahman, or Creator or Devi or Ishwara, however you want to call that divine
energy force. At the very heart of the Sri Chakra, the Bindu pulsates with energy.

In fact, the five activities associated here are:
1. the emanation of the cosmos.
2. projection of that creation – that is the world as we see it,
3. the preservation of this universe,
4. the withdrawal of the life- giving energy source at the time of death and dissolution,
5. the retention of all that withdrawn energy in a potential seed-like form—so that the next cycle of rebirth can occur. Think of this as a form of unmanifest creation – just like you have in your hand a seed that can later, under proper conditions like water and light, sprout into a plant. (hiranyagarbha).

Coming to the geometrical diagram, next—there are four upward pointing triangles and five downward pointing triangles. The upward pointing ones are considered to be an aspect of Shiva’s energy, while the downward pointing triangles emphasis the importance of shakthi. These 4+5==9 triangles stand for the Mula prakrithis- or the fundamental elements that make up this universe or the macrocosm. In other words it refers to the abstract substance ( root stuff) or essence that gradually evolves into various forms of matter either concrete or subtle. It is this primordial substance that is the basis of all observable and non- observable phenomenon—e.g. physical shapes, mental or psychic projections. These elements are also found in the individual in the form of skin, blood, flesh, fat, bone, (coming from shakti); and semen, marrow, vital breath or prana, and the soul (from Shiva). These nine triangles interlock and form 43 further triangles along with the central dot or bindu.

Analysing the shape and structure of the sri chakra: the 43 triangles( 43+bindu) are enclosed by three concentric circles. This in turn is surrounded by two circles of lotuses. The first circle has 8 petals and the second has 16 petals. Surrounding these circles of lotuses, there is a square shape which is the outer enclosure. This is formed of triple lines and has gateways in four directions called DWARAS.
These dwaras are points of awareness.This outer enclosure is called the bhupura.
There are nine AVARANAS or enclosures in the Sri chakra and in what follows I am going to explain these in terms of their esoteric significance. Understanding this is the same as performing SRI VIDYA puja, which is also called Navavarana puja. The AVARANAS stand for various layers of ignorance and bad habits that prevent us from realising our own true nature and oneness with GOD. I sincerely hope this explanation will be easy to read. Also, what follows is just the explanation I have gleaned. There are many views and opinions on this topic and lots of extra details that I am not getting involved with at this stage.

The first avarana or enclosure: The bhupura or square enclosure with 4 gateways, plus two more( if you think of this as a three dimensional shape), stands for below the ground and Akaasha. The eastern gateway represents the path of mantras. The southern
gateway stands for bhakthi. The western dwara represents the practice of rites and rituals, and the northern gateway stands for wisdom or jnana. The below ground space represents the path of words, while the space above denotes liberation. As you can see, in this
outermost layer, every human being is seeking happiness through various routes. This is called the TRAILOKYA MOHANA CHAKRA—or the delusion of dreams.

Now we proceed inside to the second chakra. This is the ring of 16 lotus petals, called SHODASHA or SARVA ASHA PURVAKA CHAKRA. As you can guess, shodasha stands for 16, and the sarvashapurvaka represents the fulfiller of all desires(asha). In simple terms, a seeker who wants happiness is going to be very frustrated if many of his basic desires are thwarted. So, in this chakra virtue, wealth and pleasure is granted. There are shakthis that are present in each of the 16 petals that stand for the 5 elements (air, earth, fire, water, ether); the 5 sense organs—touch, taste, smell, sight and hearing; the 5 organs of action ( hands, feet, speech, organs of generation and evacuation); plus the mind. These, together make up the 16 petals. The expectation is that the person who has his basic needs satisfied can continue on the path of spiritual progress.

The third chakra is that of the eight lotus petals. This is called the Sarva Sankshobana chakra and is a kind of transition stage where the seeker is kept still prosperous and in a state of mental and physical equilibrium.
There are goddesses in each of the eight petals, manifesting the powers of:
Speech, motion, transcendence, ananda or bliss, detachment, attitudes of giving, rejection, acceptance and apathy. So, the individual has various options to develop the vairagya necessary to further his spiritual progress if he wants to!

The hope of spiritual success is firmly established only in the next chakra which is called the Sarva saubhagya dayaka chakra . This is the wheel that bestows all prosperity for the seeker. This is the fourth enclosure. There are 14 triangles in this avarana. There are 14
deities here who empower the ten Indriyas: that is the 5 sense organs plus the 5 organs of action explained earlier. The additional four refer to the four sections of the mind.
The Mind comprises of :
Manas: the originator of all doubts,
Buddhi or intellect, which makes all decisions.
Chitta or memory
And Aham – or the I conciousness or ego.

So, through mind control and sense control and discipline for the body, a seeker can hope for spiritual success.

The Fifth enclosure is called the SARVA SADHAKA CHAKRA. This is composed of ten triangles. These ten triangles represent the ten types of vital breaths or PRAANA. These are:
Prana- the inhalation and exhalation process
Apana- excretion processes—(i.e. the flow of air that aids these bodily functions)
Samana- circulation of air and oxygen aiding the digestion process
Vyana- the circulatory system—vital oxygen passing through veins and artery
Udaana—the upward movement of air: coughs, vomiting— and, at time of death, it is only this function that works and carries the last vital breath out of your system. In addition to these 5 breaths that are found in the human body, there are 5 more secret pranas pertaining to the movement of the atmic spirit in the realms of buddhi and manas. There are also vital breaths in the heart and head.

These are all vital fields that allow finer spiritual, intellectual and psychic forces to work.
Hence, in this chakra which is also called the preservation stage- or VISHNU- energy, the possibility of inner spiritual realisation is established.

The sixth enclosure is called the SARVA RAKSHAKARA CHAKRA, or the protection granting wheel. Tere are ten triangles in this segement representing the ten vital fires within our bodies that keep us alive. The fire principle is essential inside our bodies not only to maintain a constant body temperature, but also to aid with the digestion process and helps to break down the food we consume into smaller and more easily absorbed enzymes and chemicals and nutrients that nourish and protect the body. Basically the fires associated here are to do with helping the digestion of all food that is eaten, chewed, licked, sucked or imbibed.It is in this chakra of preservation that spiritual knowledge begins to flourish.

The seventh enclosure is called SARVA ROGA HARA CHAKRA, or the remover of all diseases. The eight triangles here represent the eight weapons held by Kameshwara and his consort Kameshwari. The healing aspect of Rudra is highlighted here. In this inner wheel, the aspirant is finally able to detach himself from earthly pleasures and is on the brink of self- realisation.

The eighth chakra is the primary or the innermost, first chakra and is called Sarva siddhi pradha chakra, or the Bestower of all Attainments or siddhis. The presiding deity here is Kama Kala, who is the very first effect caused by the energy flow from the central
Bindu. The three lines of this triangle are said to represent the three gunas—sattva, rajas and tamas; and alternatively the three states of conciousness during jagrat or waking state, swapna or dreaming state and sushupti or deep sleep. There is a fourth state beyond
this called turiya, that transcends all three states. The fourth state is ultimate awareness, conciousness, or bliss that is found in the ninth enclosure.

The ninth enclosure is just represented by the tiny dot Bindu, which is the Sarva ananda mayai chakra or the place of bliss. This ananda comes from the truth of self- realisation and the wisdom obtained by the identification of union between jivatma and paramatma. This Bindu can also be represented as a very, very small triangle made up of just three dots- One dot, the fire principle, corresponds to the Sushumna Nadi that runs through the centre of the spine and connects with the thousand- petalled lotus or sahasrara on the top of the head. Another dot corresponds to the energy power of the moon and represents the IDA NADI running on the left side of the spine. The third dot represents the sun’s energy and stands for the PINGALA NADI that runs on the right side of the spine.

The Sri chakra diagram is also representative of the ascent of the Kundalini—or serpent power—from the base of the body—mooladhara, through the various centres of energy in the body like the Svadishtana, Manipura, Anahata, Visuddhi, Ajna and finally the
Sahasrara. In other words, the seeker is able to attain complete mastery over his senses and mind, and by practising constant meditation, attains the true happiness that comes from pure awareness of conciousness.

Mind is a manifestation of divine energy or Shakthi . By continuous meditation on each chakra, the whole body assumes divinity! The practice of Sri Yantra meditation is supposed to transform the worshipper or Sadhaka, so that what is at first seen as lines and
triangles becomes a mental state in the sadhaka. He becomes one with the yantra and recognises this. He realises that there is no difference between the worshipper, object meditated upon, and the very knowledge gained through such a process. In short, the Sri
chakra represents the human body and the whole universe, for what is in the former is in the latter and vice versa. It is the greatest symbol of Devi as she is in her own form or Swarupa and as she is in the form of the universe.

I finally finished this beautiful portrait two days before Amma’s visit to London. Kamakshi Amman stands very serenely on a decorated pedestal, while at her feet is the golden Sri Chakra. I took a photograph of this painting, intending to get Amma’s blessing. On October 12th, I left the house very early, because I did not wish to repeat the long waiting process of last year. So, there I was in the lobby of this vast Sports Complex, ten miles outside London, on a cold, rainy morning, three hours ahead of the arrival time of Amma. I took my place in the short queue that had already formed to get the tokens for the darshan and hugging.

Since I had arrived early, my token was numbered within the first one hundred. I was relieved. This meant I wouldn’t have to wait 5 hours like the last time. I took my token and went along with my husband inside the huge auditorium. We sat down crosslegged on the floor, close to the big central dais on which Amma’s chair had been placed.There was still several hours more to go.

I spent the time doing meditation and prayers . My husband and I sat there, waiting patiently for Amma’s arrival. Finally, at 10 a.m. she entered the room. Dressed in her customary white saree and wearing a garland of flowers, Amma walked down the pathway lined with devotees on either side. We all stood up respectfully, until Amma sat down on her little seat in the centre of the auditorium.

When we were all seated, Amma greeted us with a lovely smile. Her eyes darted across the assembled crowd and she turned her head slowly from left to right, as if to acknowledge our presence. Then her eyes seemed to gaze in the direction where I was seated and then rested very gently on my face. She looked at me and smiled. The smile seemed to say “I know you, and everything about you”. It was the kind of smile a mother gives a child. Very tender and loving, yet I got the feeling she really knew everything about me. The gaze was on me for just a minute and, still smiling, she gestured with her right hand for me to move to the centre of the pathway. I was stunned for a minute and rooted to the spot until the person sitting next to me gave me a gentle push and asked me to sit in front of Amma.

Hardly believing my luck, I moved across, holding the photograph of my painting very tightly. I sat down right by Amma’s feet and then placed the photo on my lap. We were all asked to close our eyes and meditate. I recall my eyes closing but my heart was pounding very fast . We did some chanting and prayers. During the whole period I was mentally trying to picture my Guru, Shri Shanthananda Swamigal. However, his face appeared for an instant only to dissolve into that of Amma the next instant. I silently prayed to Amma. “You are my Goddess, my Guru and indeed the very Durga, Kali of the Devi Mahatmyam. I want nothing except to be with you at all times”.

Then I opened my eyes and Amma smiled at me as if she had heard my prayer. She asked me to come forward. However, an assistant next to her asked me where my token was. I was flustered because that tiny scrap of paper must have fallen off my lap when I moved
forward. However, I need not have worried. Amma was already hugging me. For a long time she held me in her arms and her right hand moved up and down my back several times. All the while she was talking to her assistant in Malayalam but I could get the gist of what was said. Apparently on her way to the auditorium there was an accident on the road. A car in front had rammed into a lorry. She was
remarking on this while continuing to stroke me. After a minute, I felt all my thoughts disappear and I was in this huge black void where there was nothing. No feelings, certainly no fear, but just a blank state. The only overriding emotion was one of absence of fear and a strange elation.

Then Amma leaned forward and whispered in my right ear “Chella Pillai, Chella Pillai” . This meant “ favoured child” in tamil. This phrase was repeated very clearly, distinctly several times. Then another hug and I was let go. Now, it was my husband’s turn. He too
was hugged and something whispered in his ear. However, just as he rose up to go,Amma turned towards him and asked him in Tamil if he had a job. My husband was taken aback. Only both of us knew the hardships we were going through because my husband
had stopped working eight years ago. Over the years we had put up this brave front pretending to be able to cope when in truth every day meant more financial set backs. So, to hear this holy person asking this pertinent question, and that too in a very casual manner was shocking to say the least.

My husband, I think, was too embarrassed to answer because the question had been asked loudly in front of the assembled crowd. He could not bring himself to lie to her just as he could do to other family and friends. Kneeling next to her, I was silently shaking my head
because I thought someone should respond. However, Amma did not really look at me. Her gaze was directly on my husband. She did not need to hear any reply. Then she turned to me and said still smiling “You are suffering?” Again this question was a rhetorical one. Tears were streaming down my face. She asked us both to come towards her and hugged us both at the same time while whispering Chella Pillai” again, several times in my right ear. After this she took some sandal paste and applied it to our foreheads and gave us prasadam.

All this time the photograph of my Kamakshi Amman painting had fallen near her feet. Her assistant picked it up and urged me to give it to Amma. Amma took it in her hands and turned it over several times. She remarked that it was very nice. I said that I had painted it and sought her blessings. I told her I was doing a lot of paintings of religious deities and wished I could continue with this effort as long as I had power in my hands. She listened to everything I said and instead of replying, just smiled at me and gave the photograph back. I accepted it gratefully and with tears blinding my eyes slowly made my way out.

I shall never forget this incident. I was not really concerned about my husband’s job. It truly did not matter to me whether he had one or not. What was paramount in my mind was that I had “connected” for a few minutes with this amazing divine power manifested in Amma.

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

I was now at that juncture where my road began to twist and turn treacherously. The only amazing fact was how my interest in art began to take over and act as a buffer to this inner turmoil and turbulence. I needed spiritual guidance, but I was miles away from
home. My religious paintings seemed to bring calmness and peace of mind, at least temporarily , until Swamigal came back into my life – or so, I thought.

One day in 1993, my husband decided to change the décor of our London flat. He had been complaining for some time now that our small flat had become too cluttered with my many bronze statues and paintings. So, we went from clutter to minimalism almost
overnight. . We had Laura Ashley floral designs and patterned wallpaper. My girls were delighted with the transformation and I didn’t mind particularly just as long as everyone was happy. Also, I reasoned to myself, true faith is only in the heart. The removal of all
vestiges of Hinduism and Indian art were only external. It could never affect or shake my belief in Goddess Bhuvaneswari. Instead, I had the carpenter create a small puja cupboard in a corner of the kitchen. In this small space I stuck a few pictures of deities and placed my bronze statue of Bhuvaneswari. My puja and prayers continued as always.Only, the paintings seemed to be put on hold.

However, for some unexplained reason the walls in our now, renovated flat remained unadorned from 1993 until 2002. This was not so by choice. We simply didn’t find an appropriate painting to buy as an investment- and there were other reasons too. My husband was very busy with his work and travel; the children were engrossed with studies, ballet and music lessons and none of us really had time to consider that the walls remained unadorned.

It was in the summer of 1993 that I met Swamigal again. I wanted my daughters to receive his blessings. At that time he was in Salem. A huge temple complex had been built during 1970’s on the top of a small hill near the village of Udayapatti in the Salem
district of Tamilnadu. The unique feature of this temple is that Lord Skanda faces the sanctum of his mother. Directly in front of the sanctum housing the statue of Skanda stands the magnificent 18 armed Goddess Ashtaa Dhasa Bhuja Mahalakshmi Durga Devi,
the slayer of the demon Mahisha.

In the courtyard surrounding the temple there are huge statues of the five-faced, Heramba Ganapathi, Anjaneya, Vishnu and Shiva. A feeling of utter peace and serenity engulfed me as soon as I set foot in this holy place. My mother and I performed Guru Pada puja for
the Swamigal as soon as we entered the temple. Later, we had a private audience with Swamigal in a small room on the temple premises. He seemed very weak and frail, that day, and appeared a lot older than I had imagined he would be. It was obvious he was
in pain of some sort—an abdominal condition, he explained with a slight smile.

At this time Swamigal was actively involved in planning and building another temple complex near Madras and spent some time chatting with my mother about the difficulties in financing the project. Then, he turned his attention to me and asked me if I had a
health problem as I had lost a lot of weight. I reassured him quickly and said that perhaps my body was just unable to handle the common stresses of life very well. I have never felt it appropriate to discuss personal problems or family issues with a Swamiji . I feel
one has to really sort out these issues at a personal level. I just needed his wisdom and blessings at this point. I also informed him that a mantra he had given me (through my mother), wasn’t really working well for me. Ignorant as I was then, I did not realise that I
was not a worthy recipient for the mantra, not the other way around

In fact, a curious incident happened while reciting this mantra and I narrated this to Swamigal. At that time in London, we were fortunate to have as our neighbours a lovely couple who lived in the flat upstairs. A Christian lady married to a Muslim. Over the years, we had got to know them well and they loved my children, spending a lot of time every day playing with them . One day, this lady knocked on our door in a panic. Her husband had been admitted in hospital and was in a critical condition. Apparently he had
collapsed suddenly and had been given just 48 hours. The couple’s only son, a doctor, had come down to be of comfort to her.

Distressed at the sight of her grief and seeing how she was so close to a state of nervous breakdown, I immediately rushed to my puja cupboard and gave her some vibhuti. “Apply this on his forehead”, I told her. Later, she informed me she had smeared it all over his body. I assured her in the meanwhile I would pray for his life. Although a Christian, this lady had been on a visit to Tirupathi, some years ago while on holiday, and she was aware I maintained a daily routine of prayer every morning. So, she seemed to take strength from my assurances.

During the next 48 hours I recited the mantra Swamigal had given me. However, my thoughts were entirely focused on my neighbour and I prayed he would live. I knew chances were slim as his condition needed a liver transplant and chances of survival, according to his son, were not very good. The next day, my doorbell rang at 1 a.m. My husband and I feared the worst. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with a huge smile. That look of relief on my neighbour’s face said it all. She thanked me gratefully, convinced my prayers had helped. She attended church regularly and we were both on the same plane of understanding.

Swamigal listened to my story and then said quite abruptly “Get up and go that picture of my Guru”. I got up and walked towards the enormous picture of his guru “Judge Swamigal”that adorned almost the entire wall on this side of the room. Swamigal asked me to do sankalpam and then namaskaram in front of this picture depicting his Avadutha preceptors. Then, he asked me to sit directly in front of him. He said “I will give you a mantra now, but this is one that you have to chant in your mind. Keep the image of the Goddess Bhuvaneswari firmly in the space between your eyebrows, and then, mentally chant this mantra now, in front of me, with your eyes closed, sixteen times. Make sure that even your tongue doesn’t move during this mental chanting.” I did as I was asked. I closed my eyes and meditated on Goddess Bhuvaneswari and recited the small mantra sixteen times. At the end, I could feel a warm and pleasant sensation rather like a mild electric current pulsing through my entire body.

I opened my eyes and he smiled. We did our final namaskaram and while giving the kumkum and vibhuti prasadam, he said to me “Remember your sankalpam. Have full faith in Her at all times. “He repeated these words in English “full faith” several times,
emphasising them. “If you do this mantra with full faith and devotion thinking of no one else but her”, he continued, “then she will enter you and become one with you. There will be no difference between you two.” He said this and laughed loudly- not in a mocking tone- but the laugh seemed to tell me “This is such a simple truth and yet no one comprehends it”.

This was Vedanta in a nutshell. But at that period in my life, I was still coming to grips with “God” as a Saguna deity. “Nirgunam Brahman” seemed a long way away!
Instead, I listened to what he said and nodded my head dutifully. I wasn’t sure what he meant by this merging business! How could I , such a lowly, miserable creature assailed by so many negative qualities, ever be compared to the Goddess of incomparable virtue?

Later, reflecting on what he said, I thought if I did the meditation in the way that he instructed me, I would probably see a big glow in front of my eyes. This would then grow bigger and bigger and then totally engulf me. Maybe, I reassured myself, that is the process by which the goddess will enter me. How long would she stay inside me? Would this be a temporary or permanent phenomenon? I had heard stories of how the spirit of the goddess would enter some deities, particularly during temple functions. Somewhere, at the back of my mind there was a bit of real concern. I should guard against becoming totally mad.

I remember leaving Skandashramam that day feeling curiously rejuvenated. Before leaving, I requested Swamigal’s permission to take a photograph of him as well as the temple deities. I needed this for my puja cupboard back in London. I still have and cherish that photograph I took of him on that day. His eyes are gentle, and smiling and seem to say “Don’t worry about any upheavals in life. I’m here to help you”.

That visit was a very special experience for my eldest daughter as well. She was to sit secondary school entrance exams for a prestigious independent school later that year. Competition for entry into this particular school is always fierce and we hoped she
would be lucky.” Pray for me, mummy”, she said on the morning of that day long exam. I was hoping she would get an easy essay question in the English part. She did well, managing to secure a place and I felt relieved my prayers had been answered.

However, it was only a year later that she told me what she had written for the English essay portion of the exam. The title had been “Write about an unforgettable experience or journey in your life”. My daughter said “Mum, I didn’t mention this earlier in case you would worry- but I wrote about our trip to Salem and our meeting with that lovely, wise man”. In my heart I said a silent prayer to my Guru. He had helped her as well! Of this there can be no doubt. I made my daughter rewrite her essay and sent it over to him in India. She had titled it “The Shining beacon of hope”.

Over the next few years, I gradually increased the amount of time I spent every morning doing my prayers and meditation. This transformation took place gradually without any conscious or concerted effort on my part. I just felt happy sitting cross-legged on a
mat in front of my puja cupboard, every morning saying prayers such as Vishnu Sahasranama, Lalitha Sahasranamam, and so on.

Sometimes, I would play audio cassettes of prayers and slokas and listen to them with my eyes closed, deep in meditation. At first, my mind refused to stay calm and thoughts would flash by almost continuously. Slowly, the occurrence of these random thoughts
slowed down and over the course of the next three years, I was able to sit down, close my eyes and think of my Guru and then the Goddess Bhuvaneswari in quick succession. Moreover, I found that I was able to hold on to these images for a progressively longer
period of time.

Very often, I would experience a total, unreal, darkness that I could see in my mind and then the unfolding of a rosy, red, many petalled lotus. This flower started off as a small shiny dot right in front of my eyebrows and then became more distinct as it opened out its
myriads of petals that seemed to dance and move in waves right in front of my eyes.

It was only with great reluctance I would come out of my meditation because I was aware of the pressing need to do house work and take care of the running of the household. My prayers and meditation only took place while the children were off at school and my husband away at work. None of them realised quite the amount of time I spent on cultivating my spiritual side. In fact, very often I had precious little time left after my daily prayers in which I had to cram all the housework and laundry – and then produce tea – and later, dinner for the children when they came home in the afternoon.

Three years went by in this manner. I found that my prayers were giving me a great deal of mental strength and peace of mind and I found myself reciting my Guru’s mantra almost automatically while taking a long walk, cooking or even grocery shopping. In fact, any mundane activity my mind was engaged in that didn’t require particular concentration was the ideal time for the mantra to seep in almost unnoticed. There was also another change taking place at this time to which I didn’t give much thought. My prayers, or so it seemed to me at that time, were making me very dependant on God, as a separate deity who had the power to make wishes come true and without whose blessings and divine grace I could not really function.

My prayers were some kind of a lifeline thrown to me to grab on to especially during times of mental stress. At this time, I spent a lot of time researching, especially on the internet, for the most powerful slokas one could recite for various specific deities. For example, there was this Kavacham( a type prayer form meant for protection of devotees) in praise of Lord Skanda that I became hooked on to. There was Aditya Hridayam( in praise of the Sun Lord), Lakshmi Stotrams ( for the Goddess of Wealth)—the list was endless. Then there were kavachams for Lord Vinayaka and Murugan and Guru composed by Swamigal himself, that I would recite or listen to sung melodiously on the audio cassettes. Very often I would fill my time during the day and the silence of the empty flat with just prayers – hymns from the Vedas were particularly soothing. When I sat down in front of my small puja place and looked at the photos of the various deities, there were not just inanimate figures. Instead, it seemed to me they were actually flesh and blood individuals, listening with great compassion to me and very often I did just that – talk to them like they were my mother, father brothers or sisters. I didn’t feel I had become God – crazy. This feeling of total supplication and familiarity came quite naturally because of the attitude of Bhakthi. I’m sure many a devotee has gone through this stage.

In fact, very often I would be angry with my Gods if things didn’t really go according to my miserable plans or wishes. I would rail and rant for sometime, realising even as I was doing this, the futility of this action.
So, in a sense, although I was firmly established on the Bhakti aspect of the spiritual path, I was not progressing terribly well as I was just transferring dependence on the Guru to dependence on various deities.

In 1996, I returned home during the summer to attend my nephew’s wedding. Although I had been coming home for a brief holiday during previous years as well, I hadn’t really met Swamigal again. This year was different. He was staying in Madras for a few days,
that particular summer at a devotee’s home. My mother accompanied me when we visited him. I found him extremely pre- occupied on this occasion. He had these huge architect’s plans in front of him – plans of the proposed construction of the huge temple complex near Tambaram. It was to be called Skandashramam.

He explained to my mother how he had managed to receive generous contributions from several wealthy business people to make his dream come true. At this point he expanded a bit more on the nature of the deities he meant to install at this temple. One deity, an incarnation of Lord Shiva would be represented as half lion and half bird. Two other deities representing Goddess durga or Kali were to be seen riding on lions and carrying terrible weapons of destruction in their hands. I still remember Swamigal laughing and telling us that this was the image in which Bhuvaneswari herself wanted to be worshipped at this temple. He had been blessed with these visions in his dreams. We sat and listened to the Swamigal. In particular, it struck me as very odd that he would want to build yet another temple complex and spend so much money on its construction. Surely, I thought, he has already established two big Ashrams and is doing a lot to promote the recitations of Vedas and Homams. Isn’t this enough? I came away from that meeting feeling a bit disappointed. I couldn’t understand the justification of spending a massive amount of money on a building to house some more deities, particularly in such an impoverished country like ours.. For some reason, unknown to me at that time, my faith in my Guru was being tested. I didn’t realise this at the time.

The period that followed immediately, is in my opinion, one of doubt and reasoning. Somehow, I had the feeling I was adrift in this mire of prayers and chantings and began to question my sanity and the very purpose of time spent on puja. It was clear that my japa and prayers gave me peace of mind, but they didn’t leave me satisfied in my spiritual pursuit.

I was losing the larger picture of the world around me by concentrating solely on a selective portion of it. I decided to do some more research into the actual philosophy of
the Hindu religion, rather than just accepting prayers as the only route to achieve peace of mind. Although I didn’t give up my prayers altogether, I simply shortened the amount of time I spent on them. For example, I would do just half an hour of prayers and meditation
in the morning. The remainder of my disposable time was filled with Vedantic Teachings.

I must mention here that my mother had been, over a number of years, attending a lot of lectures on various Upanishads given by a disciple of Dayananda Swamiji in Madras.
His name was Paramarthananda, and his lectures had become very popular and indeed fashionable in the city! I remember attending a few of Swamiji’s talks much earlier , about 6 or 7 years ago. Somehow, sitting and listening to Paramartha expounding on the three different states of conciousness went right over my head. The steady drone of his voice on that warm day was even soporific! I was obviously not ready to receive his wisdom at that point in my life. However, now, I had this curious feeling of incompleteness by persevering solely with my usual prayer routine. The desire to learn more about the actual philosophy and esoteric significance of these prayers was indeed paramount in my mind. Luckily, help was at hand.

My mother was more than happy to provide me with a large number of audio cassettes on various Upanishads and sacred texts. I started off with a primer called Tattva Bodha and progressed slowly through a few of the Upanishads such as Kathopanishad,
Isavasya, Kaivalyam, Mundaka and so on.

Swami Paramartha’s talks immediately appealed to me. His very lucid and sometimes
humourous style made difficult vedantic concepts terribly easy to comprehend. I spent hours and hours every day listening to him. It seemed to me that Swami’s voice, expounding truths that were as old as time , and yet so appropriate and relevant to our lives in the present, gave me renewed strength and vigour to carry on with my journey.

So, another chapter in my spiritual journey had started, even without my realisation.
I listened to about 200 audio cassettes expounding the greatness of Bhagavad gita. I must have gone over the entire series over and over again nearly three or four times. Every time, I would learn something new, understand better a concept or idea that I had
missed earlier. In fact, from the period 1996 up until 2001, I was listening non stop to any and every one of the cassettes that discussed Vedanta in detail. Even at this time, I did not realise that it was only Shri Santhananda’s unseen hand guiding me in this
direction. Instead, I felt, I was just lucky to have access to Vedanta just at the most appropriate juncture in my journey.

During a short visit home in the summer of 2001 I did have the opportunity of meeting Swami Paramartha. I thanked him sincerely for all the support he was giving me through the medium of his lectures. I mentioned to him then about the conflict in my mind, the
difficulty of approaching nirgunam Brahman, while still in samsara. He reassured me it was eminently possible and one should just persevere in this path, while at the same time doing one’s duty to the children and family. He gave me his blessing and for my part I
was extremely happy to receive it from a person so wise and learned. However, there was still a conflict in my mind. I was questioning various external paraphernalia of bhakthi and its manifestations.

It was during this intense period of reasoning and self- enquiry that I started to paint again. It soon developed into a time consuming hobby. I was only interested in drawing religious figures. So, the natural place to start was Vigneswara. At this time, I was drawing the deity’s image on ordinary sketching paper using a pencil. Without conscious volition, I always seemed to start these figures by first drawing the mandapam and Aasanam and then the image of the particular deity, starting from the crown adorning the head.

In the case of Pillayar, I had started off rather ambitiously, trying to portray him with ten hands. As usual, I started my drawing by praying sincerely to Lord Vigneswara and recited the kavacham written by Shri Santhananda Swamigal. This is an established routine even now. Later, I would continue to work on my chosen picture, listening to my Vedanta tapes. Sometimes, I would listen to bhajans or prayers . However, my mind was always concentrating on the deity whose image I was drawing. I could not allow my attention to waver even for a second, because if it did, I found I could not draw effectively. Essentially, this whole process served to discipline my mind, to
first, concentrate, second, cleanse itself by listening to prayers and Vedanta, and finally, it allowed me to emerge from the experience by constantly being aware of my actions.

I was becoming more critical of my thoughts and actions and continuously assessing my
conduct and behaviour . What is the purpose of reading Bhagavad Gita or listening to Swamiji’s Vedanta, I thought, if I cannot do proper nidhidhyasanam or assimilation?

He said so often – “To be happy you don’t need anyone else except you yourself”.

How simple, yet so true. The great truths of Paraa Vidya and the Mahavakyams, are also extremely simple once you understand them.

One has to see Brahman in every inanimate and animate object, in nature, animals and human beings—in this universe. Love ,understanding and a genuine sense of forgiveness towards people who might hurt you are all great virtues. We have heard about
their importance since childhood and by attending classes on moral/religious studies in schools. Yet, how often do we put them into practice? I found from personal experience that one should consciously want to modify their behaviour before any results can be noticed.

In our ancient land there have been so many religious seers and guides. All of them have more or less worked towards the same goal; that is, helping people to go through life’s many challenges and acquire not just mental peace but also self-awareness. This is
and can be the only way forward for hordes of us still stuck to the Saguna way of worship. The shift from a very self-centred and selfish vision to seeing divinity in literally everything in the universe is what all these wise people preached.

All this is so simple for a person who is reasonably intelligent to understand. Yet, why do people wound each other unnecessarily?
Why do nations fight unnecessary wars and why are some people so evil? Prarabhdha and previous karma do go a long in helping us to understand why some people are criminals and why some others have a more sattvic nature. The three Gunas are indeed
mixed up in various proportions among people and we just have to accept it and move on.

This doesn’t translate as condoning a criminal or letting a thief or convict go unpunished. Dharma or righteous conduct should always be upheld and this is not the issue I’m discussing here. Instead, I am talking about getting onto that path of self awareness and self analysis that continually forces you to be more aware of your own shortcomings instead of just focusing on the apparent negative qualities of other individuals.

Progress can only be made when real understanding of human behaviour substitutes fault- finding. As I said earlier this fault-finding business makes you exhaust yourself by going round and round in a circle. Wrong doers never accept their faults. Instead they justify their own actions and find fault with you – and so on endlessly.

Chapter 2

In what follows, I have attempted to narrate my spiritual journey from childhood. You may, of course, interpret it in any manner suitable to you depending on the exact position you are at in this quest for eternal liberation.

As far back as I can remember, religion has always played a major role in my life.

During my childhood, major festivals and pujas were always celebrated with great care, and elaborate rituals were performed in strict accordance to the methods prescribed in the shastras. Being the youngest of a rather large, extended family, these religious days
were immensely enjoyable for me. First of all, I could dress up in a pattu pavadai and adorn myself with shiny bangles and chains.
Secondly, a lot of relatives would turn up and I could play with my cousins. Finally, there would invariably be a large feast and I could eat lots of sweets.

I must have been about three years old when I had my first introduction to my Guru. His name was Shri Santhananda Swamigal of Pudukkotai, but we called him just “Swamigal” as if to imply there could be no other resident Guru for our household.

My first meeting with him stands out in my memory for two reasons. The first was his rather daunting physical appearance. As for the second, I was taught my first proper prayer.

Here was a man with the most alarming and ferocious-looking hair. This hair was brown, matted and long – very long. It touched the ground and made a soft swishing noise as it skimmed the edges of the ochre robe he wore. I remember staring transfixed at the
sight of Swamigal doing his morning japa on the roof terrace of our family home. At that point, he was staying for a few days at our house. A big homam was being done to propitiate the nine sacred planets and over the next few days, verses from the Ramayana
were chanted. As children, we were given strict orders by our parents not to be seen or heard from, unless we were summoned by my father to receive Swamiji’s blessings. We were also expected to observe a strict fast and could eat only once in the day, that too,
in the late evening after the Brahmins had been fed.

My aunt was taking care of me then, as my mother was industriously attending to the details of this homam. She was in charge of giving my siblings and me a little drink of milk at frequent intervals to keep us going through the day until supper time.

On one of these days, while smoke from the Homam slowly filtered through the house from the roof- terrace, where it was being performed, my aunt took me downstairs, perhaps with the intention of preventing me from becoming too bored and a nuisance to others. I, after all, was only three years old at that time. So, we carefully made our way downstairs, perhaps with the notion of going outside into the garden. However, we suddenly came upon Swamigal sitting all alone on the sofa in a rather airless front hall.

My aunt remembers switching on the fan and asking me to do my namaskaram to him. Swamigal smiled and very gently asked me to come towards him. He asked me if I knew any slokas, to which I replied that I did not.

So began my first introduction to prayer. Sitting cross-legged in front of this benevolent man I was taught a very small sloka in praise of the goddess Bhuvaneswari. I had to recite it several times and, when Swamigal was confident I would never forget it, I was allowed to leave. My Aunt feels that he had mentally accepted me as his disciple at that very moment.

In later years I came to understand that my Guru’s visit to the house had indeed been a momentous one. A huge portrait of Goddess Bhuvaneswari had been properly established in the small puja room right at the top of our house. From then onwards daily homams
and pooja to the deity were performed and over the years, quite literally, this small space became sanctified. It still remains, in my mind, a shrine to both my Guru and his Goddess and here, his physical presence is very tangible.

Shri Santhananda Swamigal, as I have mentioned, is the third in the line of Avadutha Saints. The word Avaduth literally means “clad in space”. Although our Swamigal wore a simple ochre robe, his preceptors wandered about without clothes and put their bodies
through rigorous penances and tribulations in order to achieve the highest degree of mastery over senses.

Born in 1920 as the tenth child to his parents, Subramaniam as he was then called was clearly destined for a spiritual life. Until he attained Samadhi in 2002, Swamigal promoted and extended Saktha worship or the worship of Devi as Goddess Bhuvaneswari. During his early years Swamigal performed severe penances and Tapas in the Himalayas and wandered extensively in North India before he was initiated
into this holy order of Avaduthas. It was in the early sixties that he installed a massive Bhuvaneswari idol in the temple at Pudukkottai. After this, various other temple complexes were built in later years, including a massive hill top temple at Skandashramam in Salem in early 1970’s and in his final years, yet another temple housing rare and less well-known deities from the shastras, at Skandashramsam in Tambaram. He had the vision – and Goddess Bhuvaneswari made sure that sufficient financial contributions poured in to make it a reality!

I remember vividly a visit to the Bhuvaneswari temple in Pudukkottai in the early sixties, when Swamigal performed a huge yajna. Our entire family attended this function. My father had contributed financially towards this yajna, as was quite customary in those days. The concept of sharing wealth and making charitable donations is one I literally grew up with. My father was at that time a relatively prosperous businessman and if there is one major attribute he possessed in addition to mental acumen, it was generosity. Money never rested easily with him!

Three days were spent entirely at the yagna sala. This involved sitting in one spot and watching priests chanting mantras and offering oblations into the fire. This was quite a difficult feat for a fidgety ten year old! The only way to keep boredom at bay and to prevent myself from nodding off to sleep was to recite these mantras, and so this is precisely what I did – so many times and so incessantly that the four lines of the mantra (taken from the Devi Mahatmyam), still run like an endless refrain in my mind whenever I relax or go for a long walk.

Back at home, the routine of morning prayers and going up to the “Mel Maadi”,
( Upstairs room), as the puja room was called, became firmly
established in my childhood days, particularly on exam days!

My mother was a tremendous devotee and a major influence in my spiritual evolution. She used to rise very early each morning, literally at the crack of dawn – “Brahma Muhurta”- to go upstairs and recite the 700 verses of the Devi Mahatmyam. Despite the fact that she is now over eighty years old, she still does!

She was, and still is a stubborn woman who would insist on fasting several days a week and literally starve herself during the nine days of navarathri—all for the benefit of my father. In fact, I don’t ever recall her sitting down for a meal along with the family at the dining table. I can only remember her serving to the needs of my Dad and being continually worried about his health. My father was a very busy man. However, he would always begin his working day by spending some time in quiet contemplation of the Goddess Bhuvaneswari. In later years, his heart condition meant he couldn’t climb the stairs to the puja room at the top of the house. Instead, a black and white photograph of the deity that Swamigal had personally installed upstairs was placed in a downstairs puja room near the kitchen. Here, he prayed every morning.

These happy childhood days ended rather abruptly at 8.20 a.m., February 14th, 1968- the day my father died. I was fourteen then. The years that followed are a bit blurred in my memory, perhaps intentionally so. All I can say is that the carefree and secure feeling of
childhood was totally and irrevocably lost.

Afterwards, my mother threw herself into both social service and religion with great vigour. She realised she had to be mentally strong if she had to help her children; she derived this strength from her Guru and her unwavering faith in him. I myself met the Swamigal a few times after my father’s demise, including right after the event. He blessed me and my siblings, mentioning that the day my father left us was a very holy one called Maha Magham. He remarked that our Dad would have been lucky and his atma would certainly merged with God, because at the very moment he died, thousands of people would have been taking a dip in the holy Ganges.

These kind words didn’t serve to console any of us; yet, in my heart I always knew my Father had reached Maatha Bhuvaneswari. In fact, on that terrible day he died I remember rushing up to the “Mel Maadi” puja room, and, while a chorus of wails and sobs racked the whole house downstairs, I entered this empty room and asked Bhuvaneswari to take care of his soul. And indeed, she had already accepted him – for, at the very time of his death, my aunt and uncle were visiting the Bhuvaneswari temple at Pudukkottai and the first Archanai was in my father’s name – almost at the very minute he passed on. I heard about this only recently from my aunt who
possesses an extremely good memory. Even now, 35 years after his death, it still comforts me to know that my prayers for him, said on that day, were not in vain.

As a college student, time flew by very quickly. Although frequently busy with my studies and generally enjoying myself in the company of friends, I never lost sight of the importance of spiritual nourishment.

One particular friend of mine – regarded by others in our group as slightly peculiar – was always interested in philosophy and scriptures, attending a lot of lectures given at the Chinmaya mission in Madras. I found that we did have a lot in common after all, and was slowly drawn into discussions of the teachings of great souls like Ramana Maharshi and Swami Vivekananda. We used to read poems by Rabindranath Tagore and discuss his love of nature and perception of oneness with the Supreme Being. I also remember attending lectures given by various Swamijis expounding the art of meditation. One incident stands out in my memory: my friend insisted she heard divine music when she was meditating on “nothingness”or “Soonyam”. This was directly after an uplifting lecture by a visiting Swamiji. Intrigued, I went to my room, switched off the lights and tried to blank out my thoughts, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Except for a terrible cramp, I did not see any dazzling lights or hear celestial music. I must admit I was quite annoyed with myself. I decided that perhaps I was not spiritual enough. At that time, Swamigal had come to stay for a few days at our house. These occasions were quite rare in our household, especially after my father died.

In the very early days when Swamigal visited us, my parents would perform pada puja and my mother used to give him bhiksha. This was a truly unforgettable sight. I can still see Shri Santhananda Swamigal receiving three handfuls of food vividly in my mind’s eye.
Rice mixed with Sambar and Yogurt was usually given. It was truly amazing to see the Guru accept the food in the cupped palm of one hand and eat it so meticulously with the other hand. Not a single grain of rice fell to the ground. Regrettably, these visits became
fewer over the succeeding years.

So, during this period – perhaps his last stay at our house – I was able to talk to him on one day. It was late in the evening and the endless streams of visitors who had flocked to see him earlier had abated for a while. Sitting in front of him, I asked him about this
problem I had experienced. Why was I not able to concentrate on “Soonyam”? I had been told this was the only way to learn the art of meditation. Swamigal laughed loudly and said that it was not surprising I had this problem: “ How can you meditate on nothingness?
Think of Ambal and concentrate on her instead. Someone has advised you wrongly.” I was genuinely relieved to hear this as I didn’t want to give up the image of Bhuvaneswari that would automatically come to my mind (and still does), whenever I close my eyes to do dhyanam.

The next time I met the Swamigal was several years later, in the early Seventies. My mother was worried that she couldn’t find a suitable match for me to get married and wished me to have his blessings He was staying at the house of one of his numerous
devotees at the time . Swamigal gave me a mantra- not directly, but through another priest – and asked me to recite it about one or two lakh times. I realised how important my marriage was to my mother and for her sake, I approached this mantra in a very
methodical manner and managed to recite it the prescribed number of times. It wasn’t very surprising then that during this period my marriage was arranged and soon afterwards I left the country. The year was 1975. I wasn’t destined to meet the Swamigal again until 1993. However, his guidance continued. That is to say, he was there for me when and if I needed him.

My husband and I were living in New York and my mother visited us in 1976. Swamigal had sent me a small bronze statue of Bhuvaneswari to worship. I put her into a small hallway closet in our tiny flat , adorned her with a silk skirt and some jewels and
prayed to her everyday. I was studying at University then, and was desperately hoping to get a job when my degree course ended.

One day, in the summer of 1978, when I was still job hunting, I felt very strongly in my mind that I should paint a picture of Goddess Bhuvaneswari. That was my very first attempt at drawing a religious deity. I had dabbled in art before, and had done some abstract oil paintings earlier just as a hobby. Slowly this new image took shape. I soon found I could draw better when my mind was totally engrossed in the deity. I began the practice of listening to audio cassettes. To the background music of prayers, bhajans and kirtanas on the Devi, I finally finished my painting one Friday. It is a very simple and stark black and white etching of the Goddess. A few days later, I got my first job.

Working life was hectic and my artistic ambitions were temporarily put on hold. Nevertheless, my routine of morning prayers continued. The commute from our home to Manhattan was about an hour everyday and this time was ideal for me to listen to bhajans
and prayers while travelling on the bus or train. Working life however ended when the children came into our lives; we moved to London shortly after the birth of my eldest daughter in 1984. Life as a young parent was chaotic. However, I did find time to do a few more sketches of various deities, particularly Shiva and Anjaneya. Nonetheless, my very first portrait of “Amman” still took pride of the place in the living room. She was enthroned above the mantelpiece and to me it seemed that she was looking over all our family, protecting us.

The décor in our cramped London flat, especially in the early years was typically Indian. My “God” paintings meant a lot to me – not from an artistic perspective but from the sense of spiritual enjoyment they exuded. I have always felt that what I might have lacked from good family relationships and material wealth were more than made up for by the slow evolution of my spiritual side. In fact, this latter development took place only because of the trials of samsara. No one goes through life without a few hiccups- some may be small and manageable, others may be huge setbacks to health, wealth, or personal relationships. How prepared we are to face these demons that rise out of samsara really depends on the state of our preparedness, or mental strength.

I have found from personal experience that mental strength is only acquired in proportion to the battles we face in life. For example, the ability to endure harsh words and untruthfulness cannot materialise automatically. In fact the more sensitive a person is, the more these cruel deeds and actions of disrespect from gross individuals seem to hurt. The solution isn’t to become less sensitive and develop a tough hide so these barbs will not hurt. Very often we find that the most kind-hearted souls are actually the people
who are the most sensitive . Unless one is sensitive to the feelings of others, how would one realise why or how they are upsetting them? On the other hand, a sensitive person who is either deliberately misunderstood or wounded with harsh words may or may not
choose to react. That again, depends on his or her level of mental preparedness. It is this building up of mental preparedness I’m talking about. It is distinctly analogous to a country spending money on defence so it can be properly equipped in the event of a
conflict. This cannot be done overnight. Soldiers have to be trained and the weapons arsenal has to be built up only over time.
Similarly, we have to undergo strenuous training in order to discipline our own mind and acquire “weapons” such as sense control, mind control, and virtues such as viveka(discrimination), vairagya( dispassion), fortitude, and tolerance. The acquisition of these virtues and indeed the polishing of an individual happens only over time. In Fact, the more tumbles and disappointments we experience in life, the wiser we get, assuming that we learn from them.

We have the luxury of this one life where we are continually travelling non stop from birth until inevitable death. The earlier we prepare ourselves to fight battles in life, the better off we are – and happier too. By fighting life’s battles I do not mean here that one has to engage in a battle of words, or actions with whomsoever you perceive to be the wrong doers. That fails to work because the individuals who hurt you would never accept their fault. They are too insensitive and therefore incapable of seeing their errors.
Instead, these gross individuals are actually clever in the way they justify their deeds or unjust actions. Confronting them about their wrong doings simply does not work because it will be never accepted as such by these people who have no conscience. Instead our
peace of mind can only be preserved by gaining the spiritual maturity to see the overall picture – that is when we can develop the ability to completely disassociate the inner self from all these distressing situations. Only then can there be no reaction to any
adverse situation. You have to develop a good shock- absorber for life!

Chapter 1

A SPIRITUAL JOURNEY.

CHAPTER 1.

The purpose of writing this book remains a mystery to me. I am merely an average human soul going through the tribulations of samsara. So, why should I write about my “spiritual journey”? How is this “journey” defined? Surely, millions of us inhabiting this world are at various stages on the path to self and God realisation. The ultimate goal for most seekers is, of course, attaining that perfect peace of mind, in our individual lives beset by so many personal financial, and mental problems.

Religion is the starting point for most people as they strive to find inner calm. Each religion is unique in the sense of specific codes of conduct to be followed, rituals to be performed and deities to be worshipped. For many, the study of scriptures and adherence to the fundamental tenets of their religion is enough to bring about a transformation in their own lives and the adoption of a world vision. Others still might prefer the intellectual stimulation afforded by scholars well versed in the shastras and Vedas – their logic being that God is the very essence or “sat” of the entire universe.

Most of us progress in our spiritual quest for supreme inner peace by small degrees, small steps. Each step is unique to every individual soul just as the experiences faced by each one of us in life are varied and inimitable. Progress, nevertheless, is faster for those who realise early on in their journey that peace and fulfilment can never be attained through impermanent, material objects, pleasures and human attachments. It is of course quite easy to write this: it is another matter altogether to condition our minds into this kind of reasoning. Life as we know it is all about interacting with people, dealing with issues and difficult circumstances. Some people we find ourselves liking, others we tolerate, and others still we hope to avoid altogether. Dealing with people, situations and events is a source of stress; in addition, our own desires, likes, dislikes and personal traits manifest themselves as huge stumbling blocks that impede our progress towards the detached state of mind so highly regarded by our
spiritual teachers.

In our Hindu religion, we have so many colourful deities, endowed with superhuman qualities. Praying to either one ishta devata (favorite deity), or by approaching a clutch of these Gods for various quick solutions to our problems, might seem a very tempting, easy way out.
Yet only some might be lucky enough to have their prayers answered, others may not be so lucky. True spiritual progress can only be attempted when both favourable and unfavourable outcomes are treated with equanimity: firstly, by regarding God as an entity apart from oneself, and later, by making that huge mental leap to the incontrovertible truth that God is indeed in you, is you, just as he is in every blessed object, sentient and non-sentient being in this world. If one is capable of so much love, devotion and faith
for his own personal God, how can he not share that love and extend it to everyone around him – especially when he knows they are made of that same God-like material? This is what the Vedantins preach. The truth is always very simple. For peace of mind to be attained, we have only to change our vision and priorities. Happiness can never be dependant on any object or human being – even a Guru. The preceptor is only a guide who exposes all our negative qualities so that we can deal with them, so altering our own true nature and attaining a closer union with God. These are some of the truths I came to acknowledge as a traveller – on my personal path towards self realization.

I should emphasise that I had never considered myself as a disciple of any Guru or “Holy” seer for the simple reason that I had never actively sought out such a person for help of any kind. Yet, if I am indeed writing these words today for a reason, they are the direct result of strong mental suggestions from a guru I have been exposed to from childhood. His name is Shri, Shri Shanthananda Avadutha Brahmendrar.

Shri Santhanada Swamigal (1920- 2002) belongs to the Avadutha tradition of Dattatreya. He is the third Guru in this. Math was founded by “Judge” Swamigal. The second in this line was Swayamprakasha Saraswathyavadutha Swamigal, the preceptor of Santhananda Swamigal. During his lifetime, Swamigal was instrumental in setting up various temples in South India and fostering the development of Vedic studies. He performed countless yagnas for the peace, harmony and welfare of humankind.

The temples he founded are : The Bhuvaneswari Adhistanam at Pudukkottai, Om Shri Skandashramam at Salem, Senthamangalam Dattagiri Ahsramam, and Om Shri Skandashramam in Tambaram. He obtained Maha Samadhi on May 27,
2002.

As fellow spiritual seekers moving along different routes towards the same goal, I invite you to share some of the extraordinary experiences I have had as a traveller. Unwittingly, even unknowingly, I have been firmly placed on the path of bhakti and am continuing to progress along this path with the blessings of my Guru . How did I progress from being a rather indifferent disciple to a totally committed one? The answer is now obvious. It has been revealed by the very pattern in which my life and interest in art has unfolded. Looking back over my life, there remains no doubt in my mind that in all the encounters I have been fortunate enough to have with him, Shri Santhanada Swamigal has reached out to help me on a subconscious plane. Even though he is no longer physically alive, I have been made aware many times – through visions and strong mental vibrations – that His spirit is indeed everywhere for those who seek him. He was and still remains an eternal and truly great soul whose significance I was ignorant not to realise or fully comprehend during his life time. My Guru was instrumental in placing me firmly on the path of devotion or Bhakthi and has guided me to my ultimate resting place, Sri Bala Peetam at Nemili.