Issue 4

Sathguru Venkataraman's Spiritual Autobiography Episode 1, Part B [This is the story of Sathguru Venkataraman's boyhood spiritual experiences with his divine teacher, Sri La Sri Idiyaapa Eesa Siddha. It is a twentieth century spiritual odyssey, a modern day Gurukula vaasam. Gurukula vaasam means life with the divine teacher. It is a cornerstone of spiritual life because it is through direct personal experiences that the divine teacher begins the transmission of spiritual knowledge to the disciple. The inward spiritual journey is begun through outward personal life experiences. It is with these direct personal experiences that the great Siddha revealed to Sathguru Venkataraman the ageless spiritual knowledge of the Siddhas. The world of the spirit is alive and well today as it was many thousands of years ago and as it will be many thousands of years hence. This autobio gives us a glimpse into this world through a retelling of the direct personal experiences of one of the great spiritual teachers of our time. To the skeptics, this work will be a challenge; to the curious, it will be an eye opener, but to the spiritual aspirant, it will be the key which unlocks the doors to the treasure house of God.] 1B. You Must be Ashamed of Yourself, Old Man! Continued from Part A... I approached the old man determinedly. He looked like any other old man you would find in Madras. He was attired in a simple loin cloth. He was bald particularly towards the front of the head and he wore a beard. He was not tall. But his eyes! They were so bright! They sparkled like twin stars. As I approached him he said in a soothing tone, "Om, Come here, son." These were words that brimmed with love. Was he the same guy who had made me so angry just a few moments ago? I knew something about love and affection for I knew very well my mother's love for me, but what I sensed here was something more fundamental and profound, even though I was only a child. This old man was speaking the universal language of divine love — the love that conquers anything and everything. No wonder I was moved. Who was this old man, I thought to myself. For a moment, I became oblivious of the surroundings; all the bustle of a busy Madras afternoon couldn't penetrate my calm. I was lost in a momentary reverie, but it didn't last. The ethereal feelings subsided and I reverted to the sensibilities of my eight year old self. Shouldn't I be giving him a piece of my mind, I asked myself. I had approached him to give him a piece of my mind but now I felt incapable of saying anything harsh to him. This wasn't good. I had to do what I came here to do, I told myself. So I tried hard to become angry again! "So I fell down. So what? Must you laugh? You must be ashamed of yourself for laughing at a child," I protested. As I reverted to my anger, he seemed to revert to his laughter too. Only this time he laughed louder than before. This time around I didn't have to try to become angry. I became anger itself! "Shouldn't you be helping me out here? I'm hurting so bad and you're making me feel even worse. What do you mean by this?" I demanded. "Om, Om, Om. Let me see." Intoning the divine Om sound he touched my knee. It was as though 10000 volts of electricity passed through me. But it was his divine energy. I didn't make any attempt to release myself from his touch. I asked myself, "What's happening to me? Where's my anger?" "My goodness, look at the blood oozing out," he cried out and gazed into my eyes intently. I tried to look at him, but I could not look back into his eyes. It was like looking at the sun. So I just looked at my wounds. "What are you going to do, Sir?" I asked him rather respectfully. Without my realizing it, I was becoming more respectful. How could this be? Why was I talking like this? What happened to my boyish irreverence? A torrent of questions rose inside me. Later I was to realize that this was my entry into the world of aatma vichaaram, soul searching spiritual inquiry. The old man cupped the palm of his hand over my wounded knee and rubbed it gently. Oh no, that's going to hurt, I thought and closed my eyes. But before I could vocalize the thought, he took his hand away from my knee. I immediately opened my eyes and looked at my knee. There was no wound, no blood, not even a scar! It was as good as it was before the fall. How could this be, I wondered. All this took place so fast that I did not even think about the supernatural nature of what had just happened. The old man then touched the palm of my hand and my toes and the wounds there disappeared too. This scared me a bit. Was the old man some kind of magician? Was he practising some weird black magic? I released myself from him. Who was he? I had never seen him before. He looked like any other old man but was obviously very different from anybody I had ever met. As these thoughts raced through my head, he began talking again. "See Mother Angaali's temple over there? That's where I'll be most of the time. You can meet me there, if you want to." "Angaali? Who is she? Some kind of God?" I asked. "Oh, You want to know about Angaali? Well, She's the one who cured your wounds just a moment ago," he said. If that's so, who was he? I thought to myself but didn't ask. However, that didn't matter. "Oh, Now you want to know who I am, eh? Well, I'm Mother Angaali's servant (adimai)," he said. I hadn't vocalized my question, but he replied anyway. I was too young to find this startling, but I must say I found it satisfying! There are not that many people who would take the questions of an eight year old seriously, but here was one who was willing to answer even unasked questions! Nice! I picked up my books and walked home, feeling strangely content and peaceful. I was happy... No, I was blissful. Some time later I would begin addressing the old man as teacher. And eight years later I would know him to be the teacher of teachers, the master of masters, the perfect universal Guru, the grantor of salvation, the one true Lord of all, Truth Incarnate. He was the Lord Almighty who had taken human form to personally deliver me from the shackles of this mortal world. Over these eight years, he would take me on an incredible spiritual journey, which is the subject of this spiritual autobiography. Om Salutations to the Sathguru. Om Salutations to Sri Agasthiar's Lineage of Sathgurus.