Stopped In Our Tracks

Anyone who knew Kameswari would feel as if they had known her for many years. No one knows how she acquired that special trait. "She is a child of the Devi [the Mother Goddess, called Ammavaru in Telugu]," says General Ramanayya, a friend of Kameswari. While she was still in her mother's womb, her father, Pillalamarri Sundararamayya, adopted monkhood and acquired the monk's name of Ramananda Swami. He gave her the mantra of the Sixteen Syllables and taught her to worship the Goddess Lalita Parameswari. Since then, she filled her life with the Goddess. She later got married, bore children and became an Army doctor, but she never left the presence of the Supreme Goddess Lalita.

Her world was immersed with the Goddess. Even when she worked in the Army, she would take leave for the ten days of the Dasara festival and dedicate herself to the Goddess. The Goddess is not just a conventional goddess to her nor is she an abstract idea in her mind. To Kameswari, the Goddess is a unique expression which embraces the whole universe, comforts it with love, and showers mercy upon it.

It was Kameswari's being stationed as an Army doctor in Wellington, a town in the Nilgiri hills, that prompted U.G. to go to Ooty that year. Ever since she became acquainted with U.G., Kameswari had been inviting him to visit Ooty. For some reason, the climate of Ooty did not appeal to U.G. Although he liked cool mountainous places, he did not like Ooty. Nevertheless, because Kameswari lived there, he wanted to go to Kodaikanal via Ooty. Kameswari's joy knew no bounds when she learned that U.G. was coming with Parveen and Mahesh.

"I ran immediately to the Post Office and sent a telegram saying, 'Welcome.' I also wrote a letter sitting right there. I asked him not to disappoint me, as I was so happy about his coming. Just before I got U.G.'s letter that day I was thinking during my Puja, 'It would be nice if U.G. would come here. I can't even take off from work this year on leave.' I had that intense desire to see U.G. I went to the hospital, and in the morning mail I received the letter from U.G. saying they were coming. I can't express adequately my joy," she wrote to me in a letter.

On October 5, 1979, two days after Mahesh and Parveen arrived from Bombay, U.G. started with them on a trip by car to Ooty. Kameswari's anticipation was like that of Sabari in the Ramayana. After U.G. and company set foot in her house, she had one of her two feet in the kitchen and the other in the living room. Unable to bear that, U.G. settled himself down in the kitchen. He would taste the curries she made, add salt to her cooking and converse with her. Kameswari enjoyed this very much. He even kept her company when she sat for her puja, so that she wouldn't miss him even there. He and Parveen would seat themselves on either side of her. He asked her to utter the mantra aloud when she was meditating. When she finished, he said, "Good, perfect." One day, when she was doing her puja, he said, "Parts of the mantra are very powerful. They feel as if a great energy is flowing. But at some places the flow is interrupted. I will correct them if you recite them aloud." When she corrected them and recited them again the next day, he said, "Now they sound right."

U.G. once commented on Kameswari's puja, "When she recited those mantra, those sounds caused strange movements and experiences in me. It must be such experiences some people aspire for when they do japa and tapas. The question, 'No matter how mechanically they are recited, is it right to brush them aside as foolish?' arose in me. 'No, you mustn't,' came the reply." It doesn't mean that from that moment U.G. encouraged puja and japa. It's not U.G.'s manner to condemn anything as a foolish practice if it is done in good faith, sincerely and with a pure mind.

Kameswari's puja altar includes U.G.'s photo along with the pictures of all the gods and goddesses. When she was offering food ritually to the gods, U.G. said in a chiding fashion, "I am here in person. Why do you offer the food to my photo? Give it to me. I am hungry." "There are other 'dignitaries' there besides you. So you must wait till the Puja is over," she said, calming him down.

Kameswari, thus, had the good fortune of, after identifying U.G. as the fulfillment of her thousand wishes, having him come in her own home, of serving him, of worshipping him, of making offerings to him, and of enjoying such worship. On the full moon day in October, during her puja, Kameswari was overwhelmed by her devotion and emotions, lost her senses, fell into U.G.'s lap and started crying loudly. Parveen, too, put her head in U.G.'s lap and cried like a baby. Perhaps, the full moon filled U.G. with the splendor of motherly love: quietly he consoled them both.

U.G. told me later that it was on that day he had a vision of the sage Agasthya. He is not wont to talking about such visions in a respectful manner. His manner is to treat with equal lightness visions of both Donald Duck and Sadashiva. So, it is not easy to extract the details of such visions from him. When I asked him, "How did Agasthya look?" his answer was, "He looked short, fat and dark." Everyone knows that Ooty is called the Place of Agasthya. Yercaud also is said to be a residence of Agasthya.

U.G. and company stayed in Ooty for four days and then left for Kodaikanal. "As soon as they left for Kodai, I felt that my body became lifeless, as though all the energy in it was pumped out of it like air," Kameswari said.