Showing posts with label Kamakoti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kamakoti. Show all posts

5.10.2015

At Home With Kamakshi Amman - Atithi Devo Bhava

I walked up to her home deep within the temple walls through the crowds of people gathering there. I was oblivious to the noise, of the chattering people, of the fuming priests who believed they owned her home more than she did. I was oblivious to the swelling savagery of uncouth human behavior as people were herded in and out of the temple. And ironically I was looking for my peace here, within this din somewhere. 

I wondered as I saw the mass of people sticking close like ants in a line, falling over each other trying to get a glimpse of her divine form. They converged at the door of the shrine like ants attack a half dead prey, trying to get their share of the divine rays of grace that emitted from the chamber within. And the Brahmin priest cracked his caustic verbal whip as he shooed the crowds away. 

I felt sad for these people, they were desperate for love, they were frustrated with their lives and that’s probably what brought them to her doorstep. But how would they seek her grace when they didn’t realize that all she asked in return was undivided love and faith from them through the passage of silence which was too much to give. Was just a glimpse of the divine mother enough before they went back to their hell holes?

I was certain I didn’t want to be part of this. I was certain I wanted to keep my mind on her form; I was excited deep down waiting for my glimpse as I had wade past the priests to get my turn. This ambiance was a cauldron of swelling emotions, of herded people asking for more, of priests who treated them with utmost disrespect. But I wondered...didn’t they really ask for it? How else were they supposed to control a seething crowd that just wouldn’t listen, just wouldn't move and wanted that extra moment with the Goddess? 

I waited my time till I was called, silent and calm for the one thing I didn’t want was a priest or a security guard yelling at me. I was here to meet her, not them, and I had to seek their permission to enter her home but when I approached the Mother with love, the whole ambiance transformed. 

She called me in, picked me from the noisy crowd and gave me a seat in front of her as the priest gestured me about. We sat face to face, our eyes met, she smiled at me and I melted in my love unable to hold my emotions for long. My heart yelled out, “Take me mother, when will you come to take me...how much longer do I wait?” The priest broke the conversation asking me to give my offerings, and I held out all that I had. I was jostling between two worlds, that of the din around me and this beautiful conversation we were having in silence.

The flames flickered wild as they lit up her dim room, wet in water as she prepared for her bath. She was bare, her pure self-unveiled for me to get a glimpse as she smiled back at me. I was treated like a guest; she was gentle and kind oozing love and beauty as I felt the energies envelop me. I let my emotions flow as my hands shook, closing my eyes for a few seconds as I felt my body energized with her presence. I said nothing, I thought nothing, I felt everything I could and I let my pent up emotions flow. It was a river of love, between her and me. I gave whatever I could, I gave my being, I gave my heart, I gave my thoughts, I gave my love... I gave everything that was humanly possible to give. And she took it all with grace. No priest came between us then, no Maya knocked back at me. I was in her silent world for a short while. 

It was time to leave, I had a desire to see them bathe her and she granted me that wish and more. What was supposed to have otherwise ended as a darshan, continued as she gave me a pomegranate tossed into my hand by the priest. She gave me a seat far away from the maddening crowd to sit and worship her. High on a platform, far from the herd, in isolation and silence... I watched her being bathed. I witnessed her many forms as the priest took the divine light around her.

Four forms remained etched in my mind, the first was her in her pure bare state being readied for her bath, the second was when she was ash clad and the whiteness pronounced her features, the third was when milk and curd rolled down her being pronouncing her curved body and the fourth was when she was dressed like a bride. Each form depicted a different facet of herself - stark consciousness, freedom from attachment, vibrant purity, divine love.

She filled my eyes with her form, she filled my heart with her love, she filled my mind with silence, she filled my consciousness with her beeja mantra and I filled her with my pent up emotions. We merged in silence, in divine embrace...maybe that is what I call grace. 

I was called back into the chamber, she asked for me again and I was only too glad to see her up close. She is life size, real and enigmatic. I presented her my gift for her to touch with her grace and I quietly wore it round my neck, her grace enveloping my heart like an armour of love. She blessed me with abundant kumkum that reddened my hands, and I realized one truth then. 

Tara Ma and Kamakshi Amman were one and the same form. They both treated me to abhishekam, she allowed me to bathe her ughra form, while I witnessed her soumya roopam getting bathed. She colored my hands in alta red when I touched her ughra form and in kumkum when I felt her soumya presence. She hugged me close in her ughra form and spoke to me in silence in her soumya form. She energized me as I shook emotionally almost breaking into tears in both forms. She gave me two hours in Tarapith, she gave me two hours in Kanchipuram. She made the priests call me in; she made them treat me with respect. She made both the priests at Tarapith and at Kanchipuram give me their visiting cards and an open invitation to come back any time, she opened the gates to unlimited access into her divine home. 

She sent me back into samsara fulfilled with love, she sent me back to the world, blessed. It was a fantastic year with the Goddess. 

I truly felt Atithi Devo Bhava. 
  

4.28.2009

The power of the Shankaracharya

Srinivasan took out the wooden box that lay untouched within his puja room and laid it on the floor. He stared at it closely and thought to himself over the many circumstances that had brought him this far. He looked up at the little home he had made with great care for the Lord to be housed in and now it was the most important thing he would guard, because his soul was in there protected and safe.

In the early hours of the morning before the sun rose, Srinivasan lit a small ghee lamp and incense and placed it next to the box. His heart beat fast as he slowly opened it. Within it lay a few items of puja, a yellow cloth and in its center in a cloth bed lay a piece of bamboo. It was smeared in turmeric and had a lot of threads rolled around it. He picked it up carefully and laid it on the floor. He whispered a prayer to himself and bowed to it, holding both the corners. Srinivasan was surprized as he had never felt this before. His arms shook as they could not withstand the energy that flowed through them. He was unable to hold the bamboo, as his arms trembled. With humility he raised himself up again and placed the piece of bamboo back into the box.

Srinivasan looked up to the Lord seated within the chamber of his little throne. He wondered what spiritualism was, what the energy of the Lord was and who he was as a drop of atman floating in this consciousness in this universe at this time in this space. He closed his eyes and a mantra of the three eyed Shiva flowed into his mind. He looked up at the slab of vilva wood that lay within the chamber. He had heard a story about it.

There was a saint who walked the earth in these times and touched the souls of everyone with his humility. It was one morning at his ashram that he walked up to a vilva tree and sat under it. In a while the tree descended to lie next to him. He spent hours with the tree in divine conversation, unmoved, unshaken and in complete deep thought. After a long time, he turned and asked his pupil to get a peice of bamboo shaped as an axe. The dying tree was cut, and each part of its trunk was made into a slap and given to his disciples with instructions to give it to anyone worthy of it.


Srinivasan looked back at the spiritual journey he had made in his life. He meditated over these simple things that had far more value than gold. He revered his Guru, the symbolism of whose he worshiped before he started his prayers to the Supreme. He had heard great stories about the Mahatma, of his appearance well after he had left his earthly self. He had revisited his disciples, and instructed them about their activities. He had blessed them and disappeared. All they ever saw was the sacred Dandam (staff) that represented the great Shankaras stand in front of them held by a hand mid air in space.
This was the great emblem of the Shankaras, a bamboo staff that was so simple to look at but so sacred that its energy could be felt within the mind when it was clean and immersed in divine love for the Guru. It was the staff of enlightenment that represented the ending symbol of every mantra written. It was the staff of knowledge that represented the supreme guru who is the solution to our earthly presence and our learning about quality life.

The great staff, is what we limited human beings are able to see because this is the only visible symbolism of the other world, the celestial world and the empowering knowledge that it comes with feeding our thoughts with divine wisdom. This is the dandam of the Shankaracharya. This is the emblem of wisdom and this is the power of learning that we lesser mortals need to worship. The truth is, the Lord is not out there, but he is in here within us and the noise of our worldly problems is the Maya that bars us from listening to his silence.

He awakens the other world, that which is fed by words and sustained by imagination, that which is invisible and needs to be sort after, that which speaks in silence and disappears in noise, that which is felt with emotion and logic, that which has rules that are never broken, that which always was and never changed, that which springs from deep rooted energy that gives us life, that which neither you nor I have ever cared to understand.

Srinivasan thought to himself, as he stood at the gates of his own divine world of imagination like a gatekeeper who guarded because he believed but didnt really know what was inside. He felt like a blessed ignorant fool, holding a diamond in his hand and not believing so because it didnt shine!

Tears rolled down his eyes as he stared on at the divine, he felt miserable that this was he, and he felt happy that at least he had come this far and now this was he. He felt the dualism in his existence, he felt the incompleteness in his form, he felt the inprisonment in his flesh and he experienced the dumb ignorance within his mind. This was he, this is he and hopefully will not continue to be him.