Post by Sumi on Jan 13, 2012 12:12:18 GMT 5.5
Courtesy: Shri Sundararajan
Source: www.periva.org
Paul Brunton’s search for his
Master<http://mahaperiyavaa.wordpress.com/2011/03/15/paul-bruntons-search-fo...> - part 3
Source: www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
This remarkable man died at the early age of thirty-two, though one legend
has it that he simply disappeared. The value of this information becomes
apparent when I learn that his successor, whom I am to see this day,
carries on the same work and the same teaching. In this connection, there
exists a strange tradition. The first Shankara promised his disciples that
he would still abide with them in spirit, and that he would accomplish this
by the mysterious process of ”overshadowing ” his successors. *
A somewhat similar theory is attached to the office of the Grand Lama of
Tibet. The predecessor in office, during his last dying moments, names the
one worthy to follow him. The selected person is usually a lad of tender
years, who is then taken in hand by the best teachers available and given a
thorough training to fit him for his exalted post. His training is not only
religious and intellectual, but also along the lines of higher Yoga and
meditation practices. This training is then followed by a life of great
activity in the service of his people. It is a singular fact that through
all the many centuries this line has been established, not a single holder
of the title has ever been known to have other than the highest and the
most selfless character.
Venkataramani embellishes his narrative with stories of the remarkable
gifts which Shri Shankara the Sixty-sixth possesses. There is an account of
the miraculous healing of his own cousin. The latter has been crippled by
rheumatism and confined to his bed for many years. Shri Shankara visits
him, touches his body, and within three hours the invalid is so far better
that he gets out of bed; soon, he is completely cured. There is the further
assertion that His Holiness is credited with the power of reading the
thoughts of other persons; at any rate, Venkataramani fully believes this
to be true.
We enter Chingleput through a palm-fringed highway and find it a tangle of
whitewashed houses, huddled red roofs andnarrow lanes. We get down and walk
into the centre of the city, where large crowds are gathered together. I am
taken into a house where a group of secretaries are busily engaged handling
the huge correspondence which follows His Holiness from his headquarters at
Kumbakonam. I wait in a chairless anteroom while Venkataramani sends one of
the secretaries with a message to Shri Shankara. More than half an hour
passes before the man returns with the reply that the audience I seek
cannot be granted. His Holiness does not see his way to receiving a
European; moreover, there are two hundred people waiting for interviews
already. Many persons have been staying in the town overnight in order to
secure their interviews. The secretary is profuse in his apologies.
I philosophically accept the situation, but Venkataramani says that he
will try to get into the presence of His Holinessas a privileged friend,
and then plead my cause. Several members of the crowd murmur unpleasantly
when they become aware of his intention to pass into the coveted house out
of his turn. After much talk and babbling explanations, hewins through. He
returns eventually, smiling and victorious.
“His Holiness will make a special exception in your case. He will see you
in about one hour’s time.”*
I fill the time with some idle wandering in the picturesque lanes which
run down to the chief temple. I meet some servants who are leading a train
of grey elephants and big buffbrown camels to a drinking-place. Someone
points out to me the magnificent animal which carries the Spiritual Head of
South India on his travels. He rides in regal fashion, borne aloft in an
opulent howdah on the back of a tall elephant. It is finely covered with
ornate trappings, rich cloths and gold embroideries. I watch the dignified
old creature step forward along the street. Its trunk coils up and comes
down again as it passes.
Remembering the time-worn custom which requires one to bring a little
offering of fruits, flowers or sweetmeats whenvisiting a spiritual
personage, I procure a gift to place before my august host. Oranges and
flowers are the only things in sight and I collect as much as I can
conveniently carry. In the crowd which presses outside His Holiness’s
temporary residence, I forget another important custom. “Remove your
shoes,” Venkataramani reminds me promptly. I take them off and leave them
out in the street, hoping that they will still be there when I return!
We pass through a tiny doorway and enter a bare anteroom. At the far end
there is a dimly lit enclosure, where I behold a short figure standing in
the shadows. I approach closer to him, put down my little offering and bow
low in salutation. There is an artistic value in this ceremony which
greatly appeals to me, apart from its necessity as an expression of respect
and as a harmless courtesy. I know well that Shri Shankara is no Pope, for
there is no such thing in Hinduism, but he is teacher and inspirer of a
religious flock of vast dimensions. The whole of South India bows to his
tutelage.
to be continued
Sundararajan
*Yogah karmasu kausalam - Gita 2-50*
Source: www.periva.org
Paul Brunton’s search for his
Master<http://mahaperiyavaa.wordpress.com/2011/03/15/paul-bruntons-search-fo...> - part 3
Source: www.scribd.com/full/32932002?access_key=key-p1hlknsquce8fyorlqi
This remarkable man died at the early age of thirty-two, though one legend
has it that he simply disappeared. The value of this information becomes
apparent when I learn that his successor, whom I am to see this day,
carries on the same work and the same teaching. In this connection, there
exists a strange tradition. The first Shankara promised his disciples that
he would still abide with them in spirit, and that he would accomplish this
by the mysterious process of ”overshadowing ” his successors. *
A somewhat similar theory is attached to the office of the Grand Lama of
Tibet. The predecessor in office, during his last dying moments, names the
one worthy to follow him. The selected person is usually a lad of tender
years, who is then taken in hand by the best teachers available and given a
thorough training to fit him for his exalted post. His training is not only
religious and intellectual, but also along the lines of higher Yoga and
meditation practices. This training is then followed by a life of great
activity in the service of his people. It is a singular fact that through
all the many centuries this line has been established, not a single holder
of the title has ever been known to have other than the highest and the
most selfless character.
Venkataramani embellishes his narrative with stories of the remarkable
gifts which Shri Shankara the Sixty-sixth possesses. There is an account of
the miraculous healing of his own cousin. The latter has been crippled by
rheumatism and confined to his bed for many years. Shri Shankara visits
him, touches his body, and within three hours the invalid is so far better
that he gets out of bed; soon, he is completely cured. There is the further
assertion that His Holiness is credited with the power of reading the
thoughts of other persons; at any rate, Venkataramani fully believes this
to be true.
We enter Chingleput through a palm-fringed highway and find it a tangle of
whitewashed houses, huddled red roofs andnarrow lanes. We get down and walk
into the centre of the city, where large crowds are gathered together. I am
taken into a house where a group of secretaries are busily engaged handling
the huge correspondence which follows His Holiness from his headquarters at
Kumbakonam. I wait in a chairless anteroom while Venkataramani sends one of
the secretaries with a message to Shri Shankara. More than half an hour
passes before the man returns with the reply that the audience I seek
cannot be granted. His Holiness does not see his way to receiving a
European; moreover, there are two hundred people waiting for interviews
already. Many persons have been staying in the town overnight in order to
secure their interviews. The secretary is profuse in his apologies.
I philosophically accept the situation, but Venkataramani says that he
will try to get into the presence of His Holinessas a privileged friend,
and then plead my cause. Several members of the crowd murmur unpleasantly
when they become aware of his intention to pass into the coveted house out
of his turn. After much talk and babbling explanations, hewins through. He
returns eventually, smiling and victorious.
“His Holiness will make a special exception in your case. He will see you
in about one hour’s time.”*
I fill the time with some idle wandering in the picturesque lanes which
run down to the chief temple. I meet some servants who are leading a train
of grey elephants and big buffbrown camels to a drinking-place. Someone
points out to me the magnificent animal which carries the Spiritual Head of
South India on his travels. He rides in regal fashion, borne aloft in an
opulent howdah on the back of a tall elephant. It is finely covered with
ornate trappings, rich cloths and gold embroideries. I watch the dignified
old creature step forward along the street. Its trunk coils up and comes
down again as it passes.
Remembering the time-worn custom which requires one to bring a little
offering of fruits, flowers or sweetmeats whenvisiting a spiritual
personage, I procure a gift to place before my august host. Oranges and
flowers are the only things in sight and I collect as much as I can
conveniently carry. In the crowd which presses outside His Holiness’s
temporary residence, I forget another important custom. “Remove your
shoes,” Venkataramani reminds me promptly. I take them off and leave them
out in the street, hoping that they will still be there when I return!
We pass through a tiny doorway and enter a bare anteroom. At the far end
there is a dimly lit enclosure, where I behold a short figure standing in
the shadows. I approach closer to him, put down my little offering and bow
low in salutation. There is an artistic value in this ceremony which
greatly appeals to me, apart from its necessity as an expression of respect
and as a harmless courtesy. I know well that Shri Shankara is no Pope, for
there is no such thing in Hinduism, but he is teacher and inspirer of a
religious flock of vast dimensions. The whole of South India bows to his
tutelage.
to be continued
Sundararajan
*Yogah karmasu kausalam - Gita 2-50*