Stopped In Our Tracks
Stories of U.G. In India from the Notebooks of K. ChandrasekharTranslated and Edited by J.S.R.L. Narayana Moorty 2d/3d Series
He Did Not Utter a Sentence to Comfort Her
That was Friday, October 13, 1995—the day after U.G.'s arrival. We just received the bad news at 11 a.m. that Pramila [Suguna's niece] died. She was in the hospital in Madras for a month, suffering from cancer. I and Suguna went to see her a week ago. Meanwhile, this horrible news. Suguna couldn't bear to hear the news. Everyone in Poornakutee was sorrow-stricken with the news of Pramila's death.
"If you like, you and Suguna go," said U.G. We all decided to go with U.G. to Madras on the 15th and from there go to Kalpakam. That evening, U.G. took Suguna with him to the Bazaar with the pretext of buying something. We were out for about an hour. While I and the Major were going around the shops, Suguna was talking to U.G. about Pramila and her life. Apparently, U.G. listened quietly to what Suguna had to say, without himself saying anything.
"Poor Shyamalamma (Suguna's elder sister) is in trouble," U.G. apparently said during the conversation. By talking to U.G., Suguna felt quite a bit relieved from her sorrow. I thought it was a great solace to have U.G. around us at times like this. He didn't have to comfort us with so many words. The awareness that he was there, sharing our sorrow, was enough to relieve our suffering.
I remember another incident, similar to this, from seven years ago. Sailaja's (an acquaintance of U.G., a school teacher and the daughter of the postmaster) brother, Papanna, lost his mind, while struggling with hypnotism, when he was studying for his B.A. in Psychology. There were times when he wouldn't leave the company of U.G.
Once he suddenly disappeared from his home. About a month later his parents came to know that he died in some remote village with no one around to care for him. That year when U.G. came, I told him casually about the young man's death. U.G. said, at once, "Let's go and visit Sailaja's mother and see how she is doing." I knew how much U.G. liked that family. Still, I was surprised at U.G.'s readiness to go and visit them.
That morning we went to Vagiswara Sastri's home in Tyagarayanagar. As soon as she saw U.G. at the door, she rushed out of the kitchen to receive him. She was about sixty years of age at that time. She was born and grew up in a middle class family and she had a huge family. It was a family of great musicians. She compiled thousands of folk songs she had learned from her grandmother in a Kannada volume called Sampradaya Hadugallu, for which she got an award from the Sahitya Akademi.
She was for a moment overwhelmed with the excitement of seeing U.G. unexpectedly at her doorstep. "Alas, if Papanna [her dead son] were alive today, how he would have been pleased to see you visiting us in our home!" her eyes were filled with tears. She related all the events from the time before Papanna ran away from home till the end of his life. (Apparently, Papanna told his mother that he had exactly the same sort of experiences as U.G. had. When she admonished him saying, "You crazy boy! Don't mind all those things. You just returned from the lunatic asylum. Don't compare what you have experienced with U.G.'s experiences." With that he stopped talking to his mother.)
She would contain her crying at times, and at other times cry out loud. She thus poured out all her maternal sorrow in U.G.'s presence. U.G. listened with full attention to all she had to say for an hour and a half. He didn't say a word to interrupt her, and did not utter a sentence to comfort her. All the time he sat like a statue. I must have said a couple of things to console her.
After she calmed down, U.G. got up to go saying, "Shall we go now?" as though he finished his business for which he had come. No matter how much she pressed him, U.G. turned down offers of food and drink.
"I blurted out something all this time. After I told you of all my sorrow, I feel relieved," she said wiping her tears off. U.G. didn't reply.
"Let's go now," he said and walked out.
It seemed as if U.G. removed all the mother's suffering as though he cast a spell on her.
"If you like, you and Suguna go," said U.G. We all decided to go with U.G. to Madras on the 15th and from there go to Kalpakam. That evening, U.G. took Suguna with him to the Bazaar with the pretext of buying something. We were out for about an hour. While I and the Major were going around the shops, Suguna was talking to U.G. about Pramila and her life. Apparently, U.G. listened quietly to what Suguna had to say, without himself saying anything.
"Poor Shyamalamma (Suguna's elder sister) is in trouble," U.G. apparently said during the conversation. By talking to U.G., Suguna felt quite a bit relieved from her sorrow. I thought it was a great solace to have U.G. around us at times like this. He didn't have to comfort us with so many words. The awareness that he was there, sharing our sorrow, was enough to relieve our suffering.
I remember another incident, similar to this, from seven years ago. Sailaja's (an acquaintance of U.G., a school teacher and the daughter of the postmaster) brother, Papanna, lost his mind, while struggling with hypnotism, when he was studying for his B.A. in Psychology. There were times when he wouldn't leave the company of U.G.
Once he suddenly disappeared from his home. About a month later his parents came to know that he died in some remote village with no one around to care for him. That year when U.G. came, I told him casually about the young man's death. U.G. said, at once, "Let's go and visit Sailaja's mother and see how she is doing." I knew how much U.G. liked that family. Still, I was surprised at U.G.'s readiness to go and visit them.
That morning we went to Vagiswara Sastri's home in Tyagarayanagar. As soon as she saw U.G. at the door, she rushed out of the kitchen to receive him. She was about sixty years of age at that time. She was born and grew up in a middle class family and she had a huge family. It was a family of great musicians. She compiled thousands of folk songs she had learned from her grandmother in a Kannada volume called Sampradaya Hadugallu, for which she got an award from the Sahitya Akademi.
She was for a moment overwhelmed with the excitement of seeing U.G. unexpectedly at her doorstep. "Alas, if Papanna [her dead son] were alive today, how he would have been pleased to see you visiting us in our home!" her eyes were filled with tears. She related all the events from the time before Papanna ran away from home till the end of his life. (Apparently, Papanna told his mother that he had exactly the same sort of experiences as U.G. had. When she admonished him saying, "You crazy boy! Don't mind all those things. You just returned from the lunatic asylum. Don't compare what you have experienced with U.G.'s experiences." With that he stopped talking to his mother.)
She would contain her crying at times, and at other times cry out loud. She thus poured out all her maternal sorrow in U.G.'s presence. U.G. listened with full attention to all she had to say for an hour and a half. He didn't say a word to interrupt her, and did not utter a sentence to comfort her. All the time he sat like a statue. I must have said a couple of things to console her.
After she calmed down, U.G. got up to go saying, "Shall we go now?" as though he finished his business for which he had come. No matter how much she pressed him, U.G. turned down offers of food and drink.
"I blurted out something all this time. After I told you of all my sorrow, I feel relieved," she said wiping her tears off. U.G. didn't reply.
"Let's go now," he said and walked out.
It seemed as if U.G. removed all the mother's suffering as though he cast a spell on her.
