← Mother KrishnabaiHer autobiography

23

Reminiscences

O ALL-PERVADING Papa! In my fifth year I was sent to school for my education. The timings of the school were from seven in the morning till ten, and in the afternoon from two to five. I was good at arithmetic and other subjects, but backward in reading lessons in the class.

O immanent Papa! Once when I was about to start with my mother for Bhatkal I playfully raised myself on the dwarf compound-wall in the lane but slipped down and received a hard knock on my forehead as it struck against the stone of the wall. The result was that when I returned from Bhatkal and attended school, my memory had so far weakened that I could not remember the lessons taught to me. So my father engaged a private tutor to teach me arithmetic at home, but all efforts to teach me proved futile. One day the teacher at school, getting angry with me, looked at me and exclaimed in a tone of derision, “You ass, you don’t learn whatever is taught to you!” At this insult I got wild and stopped attending school from that day. At that time I was reading in the fourth standard and my age was eight years. Thenceforward I joined my mother heartily in her household work.

O compassionate Papa! Sometimes I used to be in the company of my girl friends and cooked food in small vessels. In due course, I got a desire to prepare food for all the people at home. Since there were in all about twenty-five members and for cooking and other work there were people engaged, it was not possible for me to cook for all the people at home. Therefore, whenever I got the opportunity, I would visit the neighbouring houses and, after cooking for them as instructed, return home.

O gracious Papa! The eatables I liked most were sweets and pancakes made of rice flour. I was extremely fond of sweetened saffron rice. I would be happy if I was given rice mixed with a little ghee and sugar daily. If on any day I was not provided with this kind of food I would get upset and cry. Then my father would instruct my mother to get me the food I wanted. I would not touch the food given to me without it being first offered as Naivedya to the family deity. To be assured that it was offered to the deity, there ought to be in it a Tulsi leaf.

O Papa, the infinite Being! When I was a girl I was afraid of animals, yet I had great reverence for cows. In our house at Haliyal we had about fifteen cows. Father would feed them with great affection. At feeding time he would invariably stand near the cows.

O Papa, the ocean of compassion! When I grew up I had no opportunity of keeping cows. When I was at Sirsi and the desire for a Guru was keen in me, before I came to you I did Pradakshina of a cow in the house and prayed to her for a Guru. As though in fulfilment of my prayer to the cow, I came to you and accepted you as my Guru, with the result that by realising my oneness with your immortal Being, I attained everlasting bliss.

O infinite Papa! When things were going on like this, poverty stepped into our house. Formerly, my father used to give large amounts of money on loans or in charities, but now he had to seek the shelter and help of others. My father, finding that I was fit to assume the responsibility of taking care of money, entrusted me with the keys of the money-box. On this account one of my cousins, who was none other than yourself, treated me with aversion.

O love-incarnate Papa! It was the custom in the family that before going to bed in the upper storey of the house, some elderly person would tell us stories from the Puranas daily and we used to listen to them. As for me, while listening to the stories of the Puranas, I would get drowsy and go to sleep.

O Papa, the wonderful player! One day my cousin came to tell us stories. The key given by my father I used to hang on a string around my neck. That night the key disappeared. Next day we had to break open the box and found that my mother’s ear ornament and the gold rings of the children were stolen. At once I came to know who the thief was. As I was then only nine years old I knew that nobody would believe my word. So I kept quiet. Then my cousin, who was none other than yourself, remarked, “This is what happens when the keys are entrusted to children.”

O Papa, who is without beginning and end! After my father passed away we continued to stay at Haliyal for a year. At this time the management of the house was in the hands of my maternal uncle. Many household articles were now disappearing. When things in the house were thus being stolen, the police inspector, finding out that my cousin was committing the thefts, asked us to hand him over to the police. As my mother had a tender corner in her heart for him, she told him to run away to a nearby village early the next morning. As directed by my mother, he left us and reached the village.

O Papa, the saviour! As I was for a long time suspicious about him, now, taking advantage of his absence I thought of breaking open his box to see what things were in it. But I did not know how to do so. At last, with the help of a man-servant, I broke the lock of the box and discovered in it all the stolen articles, including my mother’s ear ornament and the gold rings of the children. Moreover, we also found in it the key that was stolen. I shouted that the thief was found out. Then my mother, scolding me, asked me to put into the box all the stolen articles I had taken out. But on my insistence and as suggested by the neighbours, she agreed to my removing from the box her ear ornaments.

My cousin returned the same evening. When he came to know what had happened in his absence he became angry with me and scolded me. Eventually, thinking that it was not proper for him to remain any longer in our home and knowing also that he was at fault, he left Haliyal for his native place.

O all-loving Papa! Shantiakka, wife of my father’s elder brother, had the vision of Avadhuta Dattatreya. Her daughter Saraswatiakka was also a great devotee of God. Both of them were widows and they stayed in the Nadgar Temple at Bhatkal, spending their time in Puja, Japa and Bhajan. Shantiakka has composed in the Marathi language many devotional songs. After she renounced her body, her daughter Saraswatiakka continued to live in the same temple, carrying out all the daily routines without fail as set by her mother. After her passing away, her devotees and Nadgar Mangesh have been in charge of the management of the temple.

O Papa, the ocean of grace! After we came to Bhatkal and started living there, Saraswatiakka was helping us as much as she could. It was she who fixed up my marriage alliance with Kalle Lakshman Rao. It was again she who celebrated my marriage in the Nadgar Temple with great pomp. But at the time of the marriage I was inwardly grieving over my departed father and also over the poverty- stricken state of my mother, brothers and sisters. So the grandeur of the marriage, far from giving me joy, inflicted only pangs of grief in my heart.

O all-immanent Papa! Lakshman Rao was the second son of Kalle Annappayya and Anasuyakka. He and his elder brother, Dr. Rama Rao, loved each other like Rama and Lakshmana. They had also two other brothers, namely, Umanath and Shankar. Kalle Annappayya was the headmaster of a high school in Kundapur and other places. He was of a very peaceful nature and had no quarrel with anybody. Even for his children he had not any care or anxiety. His wife Anasuyakka, when she was only eighteen years old, had received initiation from a Mahatma and was performing her daily religious duties regularly. She was spending most of her time in listening to the Puranas and performing worship. She was rendering help to her people at home and others with money and medicines as much as was in her power to do so. For bringing happiness to others she would work hard. After her husband died she was carrying out the same daily routine but was going on pilgrimages more than before. She has been for some time now living in Anandashram.

O Papa, giver of bliss! After my marriage and before I joined my husband, for some time I lived in Karkal in the company of my husband’s elders and then I went to Bombay. In Bombay I was happy in every way. My husband Lakshman Rao and his elder brother, Dr. Rama Rao, loved each other so much that Dr. Rama Rao’s wife, Sundari and myself were to each other like sisters.

O all-immanent Papa! Lakshman Rao, who was none other than yourself, used to provide me with all things even before I thought of having them. But I did not want all those things. Whenever I remembered my mother’s home I would with great agitation say to myself, “Oh! How poor they are! They haven’t got anything.” I had then a strong desire that I should send some aid to them. When I once opened my heart at home in this respect, the people did not condescend to fulfil my wish but opposed it. So I was very much pained at heart. But I did not reveal my sorrow to anybody and suffered silently. When I was at meals eating delicious food, I would remember my brothers and sisters and find it difficult to eat. Yet, there were many occasions when I sent things to my mother’s home by stealth, but I was not happy over this. When at any time I went to my mother’s place and returned, my mind used to be torn with grief for their sake. Knowing this, my husband would not permit me to stay long at my mother’s home.

O universal Papa! In our home we were in all about eight or ten souls. Although others praised me, Anasuyakka’s sister was deliberately hard on me; she was finding fault with whatever I did and was persecuting me. For about two years I bore everything patiently. By this she became more and more irascible in her attitude towards me, instead of being mollified. This treatment which she meted out to me, gave room for grief to others in the house.

When things were going on like this, one of the relatives at home told me that if I did not give her suitable retorts he would himself fight with her on my behalf. I did not like this and so I took up the cudgels myself and started quarrelling with her. The result was that my life thereafter was filled with bitterness. But gradually she realised her mistake and began to love me and even asked me to forgive her for her past conduct. On my part I also asked her pardon for my mistakes. Thenceforth, we lived together harmoniously like mother and daughter.

O Papa, the beginningless and endless! in my sixteenth year Ganesh was born and in my eighteenth year Narayan. As paid workers were engaged to look after the children, I had not much work to do for them. Ganesh and Narayan had greater love for their father than for me. The father also was very fond of them.

Ganesh and Narayan were attracting not only the people at home but also the casual visitors who came to our house.

O Papa, the ocean of kindness! We had wished that my third confinement should also take place in Bombay itself. My mother and junior maternal uncle came to Bombay to see me as I was then unwell. Since I had not gone to my mother’s home for three years, they pressed me to accompany them when they were returning. As my husband knew beforehand about his approaching death he asked me not to go with them. He said something to this effect but I did not grasp it at that time. When I told him that I did not understand what he said, he did not repeat it. Assuring my husband that I would return within a month, I resolved to go to Bhatkal, escorted by my uncle, mother and sister Shanti. Seeing my stubbornness, my husband said, “Without cause you are thinking of your mother’s place and feeling miserable. You are inviting trouble for yourself. You will know later what kind of love those people have for you.”

Guessing that my children who would be going with me might not be looked after well, he sent his mother Anasuyakka with me to take care of them. So Anasuyakka accompanied us to Bhatkal. But she lived in Bhatkal only for a short time and proceeded to Puttur for the Darshan of a Mahatma.

O Papa, the infinite! Whenever I came to Bhatkal, each time I prepared to return to Bombay, my junior maternal uncle would prevent me from going by giving one reason or the other. This time he deliberately postponed the Upanayanam ceremony of my brother Umesh for which I was obliged to stay, and so he prevented me from going to Bombay.

O Papa who is all kindness! Meanwhile, my husband’s health in Bombay deteriorated and his death was fast approaching. On the day of the Upanayanam we received two wires from Dr. Rama Rao, one conveying the sorrowful news of my husband’s death and the other of condolence. At the time I was feeling physically tired and depressed and was almost the whole day lying in bed. Only the following day my mother gave me the sad news. The shocking information created a void in my life. It appeared to me that I had turned an orphan, helpless and destitute, thrown away, as it were, into the streets. And it was some time before I wept and gave myself away to grief. My grief was all the more intense because I did not act up to my husband’s words before leaving Bombay and also because, in spite of his having hinted to me of his approaching death, I could not be present at his deathbed.

O compassionate Papa! After the death of my husband I began to sense something wrong with the nature of my junior maternal uncle who is, of course, yourself in that form. My erstwhile impression that of all maternal uncles, he was the only good man and worthy to be respected in every way, received a shock and in my heart arose a wave of hatred towards him. His love for us was similar to the love of the Kauravas for the Pandavas. He had the intention of getting money from my husband and spending it as he liked. As this did not happen, he began slandering my husband. He was also getting angry with me because my husband did not help his mother-in-law’s people with money. At this I was roused and asked him, “How much have you helped your father-in-law? As for me, I have helped my mother secretly with more than two thousand rupees.”

O love-incarnate Papa! On account of the reprehensible behaviour of my junior maternal uncle I decided to go to Dr. Rama Rao’s house for my confinement, giving up the desire to live any longer in my mother’s home. But on Dr. Rama Rao’s advice that I would be asked to come to his house only after the confinement, I had to remain there only. There was reason for this. My junior maternal uncle, in order to prevent me from leaving Bhatkal and in order to make Anasuyakka, Dr. Rama Rao and Sundari not to love me, was going to a sorcerer and bringing from him something, infusing into it an evil power. So the correspondence from Sundari gradually lessened. I did not know anything about this at that time.

O infinite Papa! It was a well known fact that every time I went to my mother’s home, this uncle of mine was always putting obstacles in the way of my returning to Bombay. I would stay normally at my mother’s home for not less than a week and not more than a month every time, whereas this time I was obliged to stay there for about five months. I could not bear with patience any more the trouble I was subjected to by this uncle and did not mind even if my delivery took place in the streets. I went to the length of even going away alone from the house for about a furlong. The people at home all got frightened and my maternal grandmother came running to me, assuring me, “In future we will not do anything to displease you.”

So I returned home. From that time, however naughty Ganesh and Narayan were, nobody at home interfered with them. If any one spoke disparagingly about my husband, children or me, I would get furious like a tigress. As a result, nobody would raise a voice about me one way or the other.

O Papa, the very ocean of compassion! On account of the intolerable harshness of the uncle and the grief due to the passing away of my husband, I wished for a premature delivery. With this object I started eating all kinds of hot and pungent foods. It so happened that the female child that was born died within a month.

Two months after my delivery, when I started with Anasuyakka to go to Belgaum, it was not possible for me to catch the steamer and we had to return home from the port. From this I came to know the secret work of my uncle. He called me once to his room with a view to speak to me about something. Truly, I had no mind to go to his room, but my mother told me that there was nothing to fear and she would also be there, and so I consented. When I went inside his room I found something in his hand. I suddenly came out fearing that he was about to do some evil to me. Then I remembered all the happenings of the past brought about by him by the power of Mantras.

O blissful Papa! When I was at Bhatkal I came to know the real nature of my uncle from my acquaintances also. He was a drunkard. Besides, he used to boast that he was maintaining the family by earning money with the sweat of his brow. In fact, this was false. During his lifetime my father had given to some people loans of about thirty thousand rupees. He had also borrowed from other parties about the same amount. As after his death, father’s debtors returned the money loaned out to them and some of his creditors did not claim their money borrowed by my father, we had enough funds for our maintenance. But my uncle made us believe that we were in poverty. No doubt, my uncle, who had left his job, was exerting himself in recovering from the debtors the money they owed to my father. But he was using a good part of it for his vices. So the household was run with great difficulty.

O compassionate Papa! Anasuyakka came to take me to Belgaum. Then my maternal uncle tried to persuade me through Anasuyakka to stay at Bhatkal only. But as I did not agree, I started to proceed with the children in the company of Anasuyakka and also Shanti who was to go to Bombay. In a disturbed mood I made a resolution that after leaving Ganesh and Narayan in the care of Dr. Rama Rao, as soon as I got down from the steamboat at Goa, I would jump into the sea and put an end to my life. But by your will, as the attention of both Dr. Rama Rao (who had come to receive me), and Shanti was on me, it was not possible to carry out my plan.

O merciful Papa! I had profound attachment for my relatives on my mother’s side, and among them I had a kind of veneration for the maternal uncle. It was indeed difficult to free myself from this maze of attachment. Compassionate as you are, making them play a crooked game in various ways, you liberated me from the bonds of my attachment to them. You enabled me thus at a future date to realise my oneness with your eternal Being.

O all-pervading Papa! Dr. Rama Rao and his wife Sundari were tending to my children and myself, when we were in their home, with all love just as they treated their own children. Those who observed the love they showered on Ganesh and Narayan would have found it difficult to make out the difference between their children and mine. Sundari’s daughter Indu was very fond of me, so much so that when I was in her company she would not feel the absence of her own mother. She would be upset if I were not with her. When I was chanting Ram Nam she would quietly sleep on my lap for a long time.

O all-pervading Papa! In this manner I spent about eight years in their home, loved by all as if we really belonged to one united family. The education of Ganesh and Narayan was gone through with their help only. Even to this day Ganesh and Narayan are loved and protected with care by them.