CHAPTER 1 The Advent

The sun had set. An orange glow filled the evening sky and gave a golden tinge to the softly flowing river that wound its way through the valley. Atop a hill, in a secluded temple, a sage sat motionless. His eyes were half-closed. Time passed on but He seemed to be oblivious of it, lost as He was in some blissful state. His very silence seemed dynamic, for He undoubtedly radiated peace. Finally, His breathing became discernible and His eyes opened. He turned to the installed deity and called out its name. His voice reverberated in the small structure. He stepped out and gracefully walked down the hill to a building that was His abode in the picturesque valley. There, many awaited Him and to Him they paid obeisance. A kind word, a sagacious advice, a smile and a benevolent blessing to cheer the assembled ones and then He disappeared from their midst for a session of mantra-yoga. He reappeared before them, this time to be lost in some mystic communion with the Divine as He sat to worship a treasured crystal liṅga. The Vedic chanting in perfect unison seemed to transport those present to some divine realm. In the temple, amidst devotees and during the worship, the saint who shone with spiritual splendour was His Holiness Śrī Abhinava Vidyātīrtha Mahāsvāmin, the 35^th Jagadguru Shankaracharya of the Sringeri Sri Sharada Peetham.

His flawless character, noble virtues, intense dispassion, deep devotion to God and His Guru, thorough grasp of Vedānta, profound meditation, direct realization of the Supreme and jīvanmukti (liberation even while alive) made Him stand out as a living testimony to the scriptural statements about enlightened sages with nothing further to accomplish. Exceptionally compassionate and egoless, He was an accessible Guru par excellence who touched the hearts of the hundreds of thousands who came into contact with Him, mitigated unhappiness, conferred happiness and uplifted people, even to the extent of liberating them once and for all from the bondage of saṁsāra. He was truly multifaceted; He was not only a spiritual giant, yogin, scholar and compassionate preceptor but was also an adept in agriculture, horticulture, forestry and the construction of buildings, an able administrator, a lover of animals, an admirer of nature and environmentalist, a staunch patriot, a polyglot, an extensive traveller, a patient and attentive listener, a well-read and fluent orator, an impactful communicator, a congenial and cheerful personage grounded in tradition yet catholic in outlook, a towering intellectual at home with religion and science and a visionary instrumental in the setting up of various religious and secular institutions to benefit the public.

In the Sringeri Sri Sharada Peetham, His Holiness was the 35^th in the unbroken line of Gurus headed by Śaṅkara-bhagavatpāda. His Guru, to whom He was deeply devoted and whom He served with diligence and dedication, was Jagadguru Śrī Candraśekhara Bhāratī (1892-1954), the 34^th pontiff of the Sringeri Sri Sharada Peetham (from 1912 to 1954). His Holiness’s Guru was thoroughly dispassionate and inward-turned and this was obvious to those who had contact with Him. Widely venerated as a jīvanmukta (one liberated while living), He was recognised by scholars as an unmatched authority on the Tarka, Mīmāṁsā and Vedānta śāstras. He authored a definitive commentary on the Vivekacūḍāmaṇi and to those who have carefully perused it, it is apparent that His knowledge of the scripture was very deep and that His exposition of some of the verses about enlightenment and jīvanmukti bore the stamp of His own realization of the Truth and blissful abidance in It. The Muṇḍaka-upaniṣad unequivocally specifies that to realise the Truth, one must resort to a Guru who is versed in the scripture and established in the Supreme Brahman and, in His Holiness’s case, His Guru was decidedly of this kind.

His Holiness’s Paramaguru (Guru’s Guru) was Jagadguru Śrī Saccidānanda Śivābhinava Nṛsiṁha Bhāratī (1858-1912), the pīṭha’s 33rd pontiff (from 1879 to 1912). This saint’s greatness found manifestation even on the day of His being initiated into saṁnyāsa at the age of eight. As He slept that night, He was heard saying softly, “sarvo’ham (I am all).” The Bṛhadāraṇyaka-upaniṣad points out, “And when in his sleep, he thinks, ‘This universe is myself. I am all’ – that is his highest state.” It is recorded that even when young, He often used to go into nirvikalpa-samādhi, the pinnacle of meditation, and had to be explicitly prohibited by His Guru from entering that exalted state for a time so that His scriptural studies may not be affected. To Him goes the credit of determining the birthplace, Kalady (in Kerala), of Śaṅkara-bhagavatpāda, consecration of a temple for Bhagavatpāda there and instituting the celebration of Śaṅkara-jayantī every year in a grand manner for five days at Kalady and elsewhere. Such was His Holiness’s glorious spiritual lineage.

Kaipu Sitarama Sastry was, in the 19^th century, a respected judge of the Huzur Adalat (a Court of Appeal with three Indian Judges) of the erstwhile princely state of Mysore. His forefathers had migrated from Kaipu in Andhra Pradesh and hence the prefix Kaipu was appended to his name and that of his progeny. He belonged to the kauṇḍinya-gotra. He had three sons – Nanjunda Sastry, Srinivasa Sastry and Veeraraghava Sastry. Srinivasa Sastry worked as a Tahsildar in the Chennapatna Taluk before becoming a judge like his esteemed father. Apart from being proficient in his profession, he commanded deep respect as an honourable and learned man. Srinivasa Sastry was a great exponent of the purāṇas and a gathering used to converge at his place to listen to him. When a young boy, he found an idol of Lord Gaṇapati in the Dharmambudhi Lake (where the large Kempegowda Bus Station in Bengaluru is now located). He carried the idol home and began to worship it. That idol has now been installed in a temple in Bengaluru. Several incidents reveal that Srinivasa Sastry was a recipient of Lord Gaṇapati’s grace. One such is as follows.

Śrī Saccidānanda Śivābhinava Nṛsiṁha Bhāratī

Śrī Candraśekhara Bhāratī

Shrines at Kalady

One night, before lying down, his wife went around to see if all the children were asleep. She noticed that a child was sleeping with its legs in Lord Gaṇapati’s shrine. Irritated, she struck the young one. The child, however, did not awaken. She herself put the child in the proper place and then retired for the night. The next morning, Srinivasa Sastry was seated in his bed and did not move out for some time. Seeing this, she asked him, “Why are you seated? Did you not sleep or are you not well?” “Sleep? I had just little of it” he responded. “Is anything upsetting you?” she queried. He asked, “Did any of our children do any mischief yesterday? Did the elders punish them?” “Who beat the child?” he continued, to the surprise of his wife. “Why do you ask?” she counter queried. “Someone has beaten a child. Are you not telling me or have you forgotten? Do you not know what has happened?” he pressed. She had not attached any importance to her striking her sleeping child and it had slipped from her mind. On her recalling what had transpired the previous night, she narrated the same to her husband. At this, Srinivasa Sastry revealed, “Lord Gaṇapati said, ‘Are these children not mine? Why should I be angry?’ He directed that the children should not be so beaten.”

Srinivasa Sastry’s elder brother Nanjunda Sastry had one son and one daughter. The son’s name was Subbaraya Sastry. He, in turn, had three sons – Nanjundiah, Lakshminarayana and Rama Sastry – and two daughters, Seethamma and Janakamma. His third son, Rama Sastry, married Venkatalakshmamma. Her father Ramaiah of Kanakapura was a student of Rama Sastry’s father, Subbaraya Sastry, and he retired as a Munsif in the Revenue Department. He belonged to the Haritasa-gotra and had two sons and three daughters. Venkatalakshmamma was his second daughter.

Rama Sastry was very fair, of medium height and handsome. He was not well-to-do. He worked as a teacher for a primary school at Bengaluru. His income was primarily confined to what he got at the school and what he collected from a village owned by him jointly with his relative, S. G. Narasimhaiyya. The amount payable to the Government was small and the rest went to the owners. There was no territorial or peasant-wise division and, basically, he who collected the money got it. Rama Sastry was rather haphazard in his procurements. This may have been due to his carefree attitude to life, with little care for the morrow.

He never demeaned himself by soliciting petty loans. By nature, he was always cheerful and ready to help others. He stood in the forefront whenever an occasion arose to perform some dhārmika activities. Given to sharing, he never consumed a delicacy without first distributing it to others. He was extremely fond of animals and had several pets. Later in life, he took care of several cows and was greatly attached to them. The cows used to be at his side at his call. Narasimhaiyya had the occasion to witness Rama Sastry calling a cow by name. However, another cow moved forward. He pointed out to it that he had not called it and again called the cow he wanted. That cow immediately came to him. He even started rearing a tiger cub but as his neighbours grew apprehensive of the carnivore, he had to hand it over to a zoo.

According to Narasimhaiyya, Rama Sastry had some mantra-śakti obtained by him from his friend Vajapeyam Govindaiyya. Those suffering from acute single-sided headache as also those stung by scorpions used to approach him for succour. He chanted a mantra, waved a handkerchief and pressed the temples of the patient with the thumb and middle-finger in order to cure headaches. He resorted to protracted chanting of a mantra to deal with scorpion bites. To treat ailments relating to the liver and the spleen, he took up some thin sticks that were six to nine inches long, moved them as if he were playing a drum and chanted an incantation; he also gave some medicines to be taken for a few days. In Narasimhaiyya’s view, many felt better after being treated by Rama Sastry.

Venkatalakshmamma was a gem of a person. Her devotion and loyalty to her husband were exemplary. She was extremely patient, never complained about her family problems and bore them with remarkable fortitude. She was unable to tolerate the least criticism of her spouse. On an occasion, an important wedding was to take place. However, she abstained from attending it. The reason was that her clothing was not up to the mark. She felt that if she went there, it would lower her husband’s prestige and people might feel that he was not giving her enough. If any of the children was injured or beaten during play and came complaining to her, she would say, “It is better that you avoid that place. At any rate, your suffering is due to your karma. Therefore, bear it with fortitude.”

She used to narrate numerous stories from the purāṇas and other religious and moral texts to her children and was deeply committed to grounding them in righteousness. She carried out her domestic duties efficiently. A loving mother, she even starved herself on certain days so that her offspring – three boys and three girls – may eat adequately. Her first child was Sitalakshmi. During her second pregnancy, she stayed for some time at her sister’s house in Hosakote, near Bengaluru. While there, she bathed daily in the Pennar River and, with wet clothing, repeatedly went around an aśvattha-vṛkṣa (fig-tree), regarded as sanctified by Lord Viṣṇu’s presence. Her prayer was that she should give birth to a good son. This supplication was heard by the Lord and He graced her with an exceptional male child, who went on to become the 35^th Jagadguru Shankaracharya of the Sringeri Sri Sharada Peetham.

She gave birth to her first son at Basavangudi in Bengaluru in a small room in Rama Sastry’s sister’s house (A multi-storeyed building is what is seen there now). As fate would have it, it was not given to Rama Sastry to be around when the child was born. He was then an inpatient at the Victoria Hospital in Bengaluru, having been admitted there for the surgical treatment of an abdominal condition. Venkatalakshmamma’s devotion to her husband was so intense that even as the time of delivery approached, she expressed disappointment at not being able to be of any help to her husband in the hospital!

The blessed child was born at 6:45 a.m. on 13^th November, 1917, corresponding to kṛṣṇa-caturdaśī of the month of āśvayuja of the cyclical year Piṅgala, with the child’s lagna (sun-sign) being vṛścika (Scorpio), rāśi (moon-sign) being tulā (Libra) and the nakṣatra (birth-star) being svātī. Almost as if to mark a divine advent, there were widespread joyous celebrations with religious fervour; dīpāvalī was being celebrated at that time in several parts of India. Relatives attributed Rama Sastry’s quick recovery and early discharge from the hospital to the benign influence of the child. The couple named their child ‘Srinivasa’.

House where His Holiness was born

Dīpāvalī

When Sri Srinivasa Sastry was a child, His elder sister Sitalakshmi, who used to help her mother in taking care of Him, took Him with her one day when she went to the Dharmambudhi Lake to wash clothes. She was aghast to see when she turned that He had slipped into the water and was almost drowning. It was with great difficulty that He was able to come out. He who knew no swimming at that age would, in a matter of time, become an ace swimmer and swim like a fish in various rivers and the ocean; not just that, He would swim across even the ocean of transmigratory existence and help many an aspiring soul to reach its farther shore, the Supreme.

He had His primary education in the Municipal Primary School and then studied up to the eighth standard at the Arya Vidyasala in Bengaluru. He was an obedient and conscientious student and every morning would see Him trekking on time to His school in the prescribed uniform, which included a cap and a coat. He was sociable and friendly. In the evenings, He used to play various games with His friends. He was an adept at climbing trees and often played ‘marakoti (tree-monkey)’; the game was tree-based and involved chasing and catching. When a tree that appeared very difficult to climb was seen and the question, “Who can climb it?” arose, the answer, invariably, was “Srinivasa.” To Him foul play was abhorrent and He never indulged in it.

He and His friends used to assemble after play and relate morally relevant stories. He proficiently narrated stories from the Purāṇas, Mahābhārata and the Nīti-cintāmaṇi. When narrating the story of Hariścandra, He stressed the importance of veracity and the advantages of being truthful. The dire consequences of attachment described in the story of Jaḍabharata and the soul-stirring devotion of Prahlāda were driven home by Him in some of His presentations.

From left: Ramanatha Sastry (brother), Sri Rama Sastry (father), Subrahmanya Sastry (brother), Sri Srinivasa Sastry (extreme right)

His belief in God was deep. There was a body of water that His friends feared to approach after sunset as it was believed to be infested by ghosts. He had no such fear. In response to a challenge from His friends, He boldly went to it late in the evening on an amāvāsyā, washed His hands and feet, rinsed His mouth and returned. Later, on later being asked about His lack of fear, He said, “I was chanting the name of God. How could any evil spirit accost me?” Interestingly, while He thus affirmed His confidence in the existence and protection of God, He expressed no opinion about whether or not ghosts actually inhabited that water body and harmed people who came to it.

One evening, on being asked what He would like to do when He grew up, He said that He would strive to realise God. When a friend asked Him why He opined thus, He said, “For that is what is good.” That friend then challenged His conviction that God exists on the ground that neither He nor those He knew had seen God.

Sri Srinivasa Sastry: Can you prove that there is no God? Would you say that something does not exist because you have not seen it? For instance, have you seen Bombay (now Mumbai)? No. Does it then follow that Bombay is non-existent?

Friend: I have not seen Bombay. But I have seen many who have. That is why I believe that Bombay exists.

Sri Srinivasa Sastry: Very well. Likewise, our ancient sages who had beheld the Lord have given clear-cut indications to that effect. What is wrong if we unreservedly accept their words? Their experience cannot be set aside and so we must concede the existence of God.

Here, He was not arguing to convert an atheist but to rebut a believer who challenged His conviction about the existence of the Supreme on the specific ground of non-perception of the Supreme by Him and by those He was familiar with. The crux of His response was that He was relying on verbal testimony (śabda-pramāṇa). It is noteworthy that Vedāntins give great importance to verbal testimony as a means of valid knowledge. Śaṅkara-bhagavatpāda does not accept inference, divorced from verbal testimony, as competent to conclusively establish the existence of the Supreme. Being rooted in the teaching of the scripture, the direct experience of the Supreme had by the truly great, such as the ancient sages, is deemed to be valid. Thus, His effective reliance, even when He was a young boy unexposed to Vedānta, on verbal testimony to substantiate the existence of the Supreme was quite in line with Vedānta, of which He would go on to become an undisputed authority.

He greatly valued ahimsā. The following dialogue is suggestive of this:

Sri Srinivasa Sastry: Hunting of animals is improper.

Friend: Carnivorous animals prey on weaker creatures. Such being the case, they deserve to be killed.

Sri Srinivasa Sastry: God has created some animals as food for the carnivores. This does not entitle man to poke his nose into the laws of nature and indulge in slaughter.

His statements about hunting were in harmony with the teaching in the Mahābhārata that desire-driven hunting is a grave vice and that the one who never yields to the delusion that hunting is right is praiseworthy.

He was patience personified. One day, His friends sought to test the limits of His forbearance. In the course of a game, they fetched a stick and began to beat Him with it. He bore their unprovoked onslaught without a murmur. When the boys stopped, aghast at how far they had gone in testing Him, He won their hearts with kind words. To impress upon them the power of fortitude, He also told them the following story. A Buddhist monk was unjustly tortured by a monarch. At the end, the king softened. Ashamed, he begged the monk’s pardon. As an act of atonement, he catered to the subsequent needs of the monk. Thus, merely by non-retaliation, the monk was able to humble the emperor. His friends hung their heads in shame on hearing the tale and went home wiser.

While He was ready to put up with any nonsense involving Himself, His approach was different when others were troubled. There was a sturdy bully called Gundu. He often disrupted the games that Sri Srinivasa Sastry’s friends played. Sri Srinivasa Sastry resolved to terminate the unwarranted bullying and disruption. Though of a small build, He pounced on the bully. A scuffle ensued. The other boys stood as silent spectators, expecting Gundu’s might to overpower His valour. That, however, was not to be. It was the bully who was vanquished. The victor, Sri Srinivasa Sastry, sat on him and asked for a sheet of paper to be brought. On it, He made Gundu write that he would not trouble the boys again.

He was prepared to go out of the way to terminate the suffering being inflicted on even a small creature. He once beheld a boy cruelly catching thoroughly innocuous butterflies, tearing out their wings and throwing the hapless creatures to a dog. Walking up to the boy, He quickly grasped his hands and twisted them. The boy yelled. Relaxing His vice-like grip, Sri Srinivasa Sastry said, “The butterflies also must feel like this. Just as you have hands, they have wings. Abstain from torturing them hereafter.” According to the scripture, even a butterfly does have a jīva (transmigrating, individual soul) that can undergo suffering and it is possible for one to be reborn, as a consequence of one’s sins, as a butterfly. In the Mahābhārata, there is the story of a learned ṛṣi named Māṇḍavya being impaled on a stake. On his later going to Yama, the god of death, and asking the reason for his suffering, he was told that as a boy he had tormented butterflies. As Sri Srinvasa Sastry’s mother had narrated many stories from the scriptures to Him, it is presumable that He knew the story of Māṇḍavya. By getting the boy to desist from totally unjustifiably and sadistically torturing and killing harmless butterflies, He not only provided relief to the butterflies but also saved the boy from sinning by continuing to kill them and, thereby, saved him from having to suffer, at some time, the painful consequences of such sin.

He was willing to even put up with suffering to relieve others of their distress. Once, His friend did not fare well in the examinations. Determined to severely punish him, the boy’s strict father ordered him to bend and placed a heavy stone on his back. Unable to bear the load, the boy soon began wailing. Sri Srinivasa Sastry heard the piteous cries and rushed to the spot. Addressing the father, He said, “You are older than me and wiser too. Your son is in great pain. Please let him rest, at least for a while. You may place the stone on my back instead and I shall support it for him.” The father was moved by Sri Srinivasa Sastry’s heartfelt concern and relieved his son of the burden imposed.

In the Bhagavadgītā, same-sightedness in pleasure and pain has often been eulogised. Such equanimity came naturally to Him. One day, He and His friends were served a dish and they began to partake of it. It was only then that they realized that it was very pungent. To assuage the strong burning sensation in their mouths, His friends screamed for water and jaggery. He, however, remained undisturbed. He suggested to them to be calm. Misunderstanding His well-intentioned suggestion, they reacted cuttingly to it. “You speak thus,” they challenged. “Can you eat a handful of chillies without a murmur of protest?” “Yes,” was His nonchalant reply. A handful of highly pungent chillies was placed before Him. One by one, the chillies disappeared into His mouth. The boys looked on, more surprised than disappointed. All the chillies were consumed by Him, without even a slight change of expression in His face. He then said, “One need not consume spices like this. As you demanded that I eat the chillies, I did so. My aim was only to convince you that it is possible to be contented with and thankful for whatever food one gets.”

Even as a young boy, He made it a point to help His mother every day. He conscientiously performed various domestic chores, such as cleansing of vessels and sweeping. He also took care of His younger siblings. When once asked about His attending to His brother like a foster-mother, He said, “My mother is busy in the kitchen and my elder sister is assisting her. Who will attend to this young one? If I do not do so, it will add to my mother’s strain.”

He privately worshipped a small crystal idol of Lord Gaṇapati. One day, He asked His mother, “Can I have something to offer as naivedya?” The poor lady was at a loss to do anything, for there was nothing in the house to give Him. Sensing His mother’s discomfiture, He hastened to reassure her and said, “Do not be ill at ease. If it is difficult for you to give me anything, please do not concern yourself.” The Lord could not be made to go hungry, could He? Nor was there anything to give Him. How did Sri Srinivasa Sastry extricate Himself from the horns of this dilemma? Bhagavān has said in the Bhagavadgītā, “Whatever the pure-minded one offers Me with devotion, be it a leaf, flower, fruit or water, that do I accept.” Accordingly, with a heart full of love and a spoonful of water, Sri Srinivasa Sastry satiated the Lord’s appetite.

Lord Gaṇapati

He was a bright student. His father, a primary-school teacher, was a strict disciplinarian and students feared him. Consequently, several young boys of the primary school sought Sri Srinivasa Sastry’s help to clear their doubts. Never did He grudge them help though such tuition demanded that He regularly spare time for them. His elucidations were impressive and the young ones benefitted thereby.

One day, under the completely mistaken impression that Sri Srinivasa Sastry did not study properly, Rama Sastry upbraided Him and ordered Him to stretch out His hand. Even though He was not at all at fault, He obeyed, without uttering even a single word in His defence. His father’s hand held an upraised cane. The cane descended repeatedly on His upturned palm. He did not wince and no sound emerged from His mouth. When His father was done with caning one hand, He calmly stretched out His other hand to facilitate the continuance of the unwarranted corporal punishment. Venkatarama Iyer, an astrologer from Palakkad, who lived in a rented room in Rama Sastry’s house, intervened to terminate the chastisement. Wanting to gauge the extent of injury, he inspected Sri Srinivasa Sastry’s palms. He was conversant with palmistry and the lines there captured his attention. Turning to Rama Sastry, he exclaimed, “You are fortunate. This boy is dissimilar to your other children. He is destined to be a dispassionate one adept at yoga. It will not be surprising if the Jagadguru of Sringeri nominates him as the successor to the pīṭha. Do not beat him, for it is likely that you may have to prostrate before him.” Venkatarama Iyer then scrutinised Sri Srinivasa Sastry’s horoscope and asserted that He would become a saṁnyāsin. Rama Sastry was sceptical about the prediction. However, perhaps because his curiosity was aroused, he requested an astrologer named Sathyanarayana, who lived nearby, to examine the horoscope. After careful perusal, the astrologer said, “If you permit him to become an ascetic, you will have the privilege of at least beholding him. Else, he will go away to a forest for meditation.”

With the passage of time, Sri Srinivasa Sastry began to regularly express to His friends His desire to renounce the world. At first His companions found His longing ludicrous but soon realised that He was inexorably resolved. One boy asked Him, “What use is there in becoming a saṁnyāsin? By becoming a great king, one attains an exalted position.” Sri Srinivasa Sastry responded, “Do not think thus. What long-lasting benefit is there in becoming a monarch? An emperor can enjoy only when he is in power. That state of affairs must come to an end, sooner or later. If, however, I become a saṁnyāsin, I can constantly meditate and be without any worries. There will be a wonderful opportunity to behold God and I shall remain ever protected by Him.” He was only twelve years of age when He said this.