from the palm of a beggar |
de la paume d'un mendiant |
Many years ago, when Lord Surya began his daily descent on an idyllic Friday weekend, I had the good fortune of visiting Sri Gnananandagiri of Tapovanam in Thirukovilur in order to have darshan of Sri Gnananandagiri Swamigal. After having darshan of Swamigal and receiving
Prasad from him, I had planned to leave early in the morning
the next day. Saturday dawned with devotees queueingup to have
darshan of wamigal. A hearty chuckle accentuated his words as he gave me Teertha, as if he knew the extraordinary events in store for me. He told me to stay for the day and leave the next day, after staying for the puja at the Hanuman temple. He reasoned that all the schools would be closed for summer, and as a result, I did not have any pressing professional duties then. (I was a teacher in Chennai.) How could I ever go against what Swamigal directed me to do? Devotees thronged in the Hanuman temple to see the god who was considered the epitome of guru Bhakti. Lord Hanuman himself looked resplendent with flowers and a Vada garland adorning him. I stood there, taking his divine darshan, when the priest beckoned to me. He told me, "As it is a Saturday, I am planning on performing 'sahasranama Archana', for the Lord. I will provide you with a book. Could you be so kind as to read the mantras while I perform the puja?" I readily agreed. It took 45 minutes for the puja to end, by which time most of the crowd had melted away, leaving a scattering of 5-6 people. One among them was an elderly man with long hair, wearing baggy kurta pyjamas that were too big for him. The clothes looked dirty and discoloured, but his striking eyes showed the enlightenment within. The priest came and prostrated before this man with folded hands, and he blessed the priest with a smiling face. It did not occur to me to enquire about who this elderly man was. Once the aarti was done, the priest came out with the vessels containing Prasad. Upon enquiry, he told me that day's Prasad was Pongal. With great disappointment, I reminded him that on a usual day, the Lord was offered sweet Pongal, puliyodharai, and a whole host of items. "How could you stop with white Pongal today?" I exclaimed. "It is disappointing for me too. But what could I have possibly done? The cook who prepares the Prasad promised to 'return as soon as possible' from Thirukovilur but there is still no sign of him. I did what I could do and whipped up white Pongal, and fried some vadas for the Lord. But I mentioned all the above dishes while offering Prasad at the feet of the Lord. He would've definitely accepted them!," he consoled me as he handed me some amount of white Pongal. I was incensed. "How is this right? How can you offer Prasad for the Lord by SAYING the names of the dishes?" The priest, however, laughed it off. The elderly man gazed at us inquisitively, asking a nearby person to kindly translate what we were talking about. (We were conversing in Tamil.) It appeared as though the man was a Northerner and did not know Tamil. Upon knowing the contents of our little tiff, he gazed at me with an amused and cryptic smile. The elderly man accepted his share of the prasad with a low bow, receiving it with both hands. He began to eat it directly from his hands. After ensuring that everyone present had received Prasad, he offered yet more to the elderly man. "Guru should grace me with some prasad from his hands", the priest conveyed to the elderly man, partly by means of gestures. The elder obliged and held out his hands, asking him to take prasad. Taking a tiny amount and tasting it, the priest exclaimed, "Oh, isn't it the nectar of the gods!," before coming to me. "Getting the leftover prasad of a Sadhu is a boon of a lifetime! Go, ask him for some prasad!," he directed. I prostrated in front of the Sadhu, touching his feet. When I held out my hands in supplication, he indicated with his eyes that I could take some amount of prasad. I took a tiny amount, and ate it. With a small smile, he gestured at me to take some more. I ate again. I was thunderstruck. How was this possible? For, the white Pongal had all the sweetness and richness of sweet Pongal. He gestured at me to take some more, and I obliged immediately, and was awed again by the power of the divine. For now, the white Pongal had the spice and sourness of puliyodharai! The next mouthful, as I was directed to eat again by the elderly man, tasted to my tongue, like the spice of the sesame rice! I immediately prostrated at the feet of the Sadhu, tears streaming down my face. Patting me on my back, he wiped his hands on his clothes, and began laughing at me, a hearty, thunderous laughter that began to light up the entire place. I turned to the priest, apologizing profusely. "I am extremely sorry. Asking you if Bhagawan would be able to taste the prasad you invoked in your mantra was the height of folly, and was caused by my ignorance. This enlightened soul has opened my eyes. I understand now that it is the thought, and devotion that matters to God, and not the material food items that we offer." I clutched his hands in emotion, and he accepted my apology with grace, folding his hands in a namaskar towards Lord Hanuman. I turned to see the elder walking away, staring fixedly into the distance. "Do you know who he is?" I asked my friend, the priest. "Of course. He is a Sadhu who came from the northern part of India. He is very close to our guru, and visits Tapovanam often. He goes by the name, Yogi Ramsuratkumar'. He is also called, 'Visiri Samiyar', on account of him carrying a palmyrah fan with him at all times", he replied. I turned once again, to look at Bhagawan Yogi Ramsuratkumar, who was walking in the distance, fanning himself gently. Only now did I understand the reason for Swamigal directing me to leave the next day. It was for me to have darshan of this great guru. As told by Sri Ramani Anna, originally
published in Bhagawan's l00th year Souvenir 2018. |
Il y a de nombreuses années, lorsque le Seigneur Surya a commencé sa descente quotidienne lors d'un vendredi d'un week-end idyllique, j'ai eu la chance d'aller voir Sri Gnananandagiri de Tapovanam à Thirukovilur afin d'avoir le darshan de Sri Gnananandagiri Swamigal. Après avoir eu le darshan du Swamigal et reçu le Prasad de sa part, j'avais prévu de partir tôt le lendemain matin. Le samedi s'est levé avec des dévots qui faisaient la queue pour avoir le darshan de Swamigal. J'ai fait la queue, attendant de demander l'approbation de Swamigal pour partir. Un gros rire a accentué ses paroles alors qu'il me donnait Tirtha, comme s'il savait que des événements extraordinaires m'attendaient. Il m'a dit de rester pour la journée et de partir le lendemain, après être resté pour la puja au temple d'Hanuman. Il a dit que toutes les écoles seraient fermées pour l'été et que, par conséquent, je n'avais pas de devoirs professionnels urgents à ce moment-là (j'étais professeur à Chennai). Comment aurais-je pu aller à l'encontre
de ce que Swamigal m'ordonnait de faire ? Les dévots se
sont pressés dans le temple d'Hanuman pour voir le dieu
qui était considéré comme le summum de Guru
Bhakti. Le Seigneur Hanuman lui-même était resplendissant
avec des fleurs et une guirlande Vada qui l'ornaient. Je me tenais
là, ayant son divin darshan, lorsque le prêtre m'a
fait signe. J'ai accepté sans hésiter. Il
a fallu 45 minutes pour que la puja se termine, le temps que
la plupart de la foule s'éclipse, laissant quelques 5
ou 6 personnes. L'une d'entre elles était un homme âgé
aux cheveux longs qui portait un kurta pyjama trop grand pour
lui. Les vêtements semblaient sales et décolorés,
mais ses yeux éclatants montraient l'illumination intérieure. Avec une grande déception, je lui ai rappelé que les jours ordinaires on offrait au Seigneur du Pongal blanc, du puliyodharai et toute une série d'articles. "Comment avez-vous pu vous arrêter au Pongal blanc aujourd'hui ?" me suis-je exclamé. "C'est décevant pour moi aussi.
Mais qu'est-ce que j'aurais pu faire ? Le cuisinier qui prépare
le Prasad a promis de "revenir dès que possible"
de Thirukovilur, mais il n'y a toujours aucun signe de lui. J'ai
fait ce que j'ai pu, j'ai préparé du Pongal blanc
et j'ai fait frire quelques vadas pour le Seigneur. Mais, en
offrant le Prasad aux pieds du Seigneur, j'ai mentionné
tous les plats ci-dessus. Il les aurait certainement acceptés",
m'a-t-il consolé en me tendant une certaine quantité
de Pongal blanc. "Guru devrait me faire la grâce de me donner un peu de prasad de ses mains", a dit le prêtre à l'homme âgé, en partie par des gestes. Le vieil homme a accepté et a tendu les mains, lui demandant de prendre le prasad. En prenant une toute petite quantité et en la goûtant, le prêtre s'est exclamé : "Oh, n'est-ce pas le nectar des dieux !", avant de s'adresser à moi : "Obtenir les restes du prasad d'un sâdhu est une aubaine de toute une vie ! Allez lui demander un peu de prasad", m'a-t-il dit. Je me suis prosterné devant le sâdhu, en lui touchant les pieds. Lorsque j'ai tendu les mains en signe de supplication, il m'a indiqué du regard que je pouvais prendre une certaine quantité de prasad. J'en ai pris une petite quantité et
je l'ai mangée. Avec un petit sourire, il m'a fait signe
d'en reprendre. J'ai mangé à nouveau. J'étais
stupéfait. Comment était-ce possible ? Car le Pongal
blanc avait toute la douceur et la richesse du Pongal sucré.
Il m'a fait signe d'en reprendre, ce que j'ai fait immédiatement,
et j'ai été de nouveau impressionné par
la puissance du divin. Maintenant, le Pongal blanc avait l'épice
et l'aigreur du puliyodharai ! La bouchée suivante, alors
que l'homme âgé me demandait de manger à
nouveau, avait le goût, pour ma langue, de l'épice
du riz au sésame ! Je me suis retourné pour voir l'aîné s'éloigner, le regard fixé au loin. "Vous savez qui c'est ?" J'ai demandé à mon ami le prêtre. "Bien sûr. C'est un sâdhu
qui est venu du nord de l'Inde. Il est très proche de
notre guru, et il vient souvent à Tapovanam. Il s'appelle
"Yogi Ramsuratkumar". On l'appelle aussi "Visiri
Samiyar", parce qu'il porte toujours sur lui un éventail
de palmyre", a-t-il répondu." Tel que raconté par Sri Ramani Anna,
publié à l'origine dans le 'Souvenir' du Centenaire
de Bhagavan (2018). |