Stopped In Our Tracks

One evening U.G. was speaking, sitting on a carpet spread on the floor. The room was filled with audience. Except for U.G.'s voice, there was total silence. A lady pushed the gate open, came inside and sat at the threshold. She must have been just under sixty. She wore a blue sari, the same colored blouse, wrists full of blue bangles, a thick layer of talc powder on the face, a blue beauty mark on the face, blue flowers in her hair, a necklace with blue beads on her neck—she was all blue. She carried an aluminum bowl.

When U.G. was speaking she occasionally wrote something down in her book of scrap paper. She looked rather amusing. I was wondering where I had seen her before. I later remembered that I had seen her four or five times in the market place panhandling with the bowl for coins. "Why did she come here?" I asked myself.

She heard the discussion with U.G. for about an hour. Then she stood up and said in good English, "Sir, do you think anybody in this assembly understands what you are saying? Only these walls seem to have benefited by your talking." She then walked out in a hurry. We were all thunderstruck. Who was this? "She is Kalyani. She is crazy," said someone.

After that Kalyani used to come every day. She had total liberty in U.G.'s presence. She laughed and made others laugh. She sang and danced around. If there was anyone in the audience whom she didn't like, she used to insult them with words. She used to ask U.G. for money. "Don't beg for money any more. I will give you whatever you want," U.G. would say to her and give her a lot of money. Even then, she would still beg for coins with her aluminum bowl in front of the Anjaneya temple.

She was always glad to see Valentine. She used to call her, 'Madam.' When she became more sentimental, she used to hug her, calling her, Dammu, Dammu (vernacular variation of 'madam'). Although Valentine did not care for Kalyani's behavior, she liked Kalyani's decoration of herself.

Kalyani was born in a rich Ayyengar family. She graduated from college with a B.Sc. and used to work as a mathematics teacher in a girls high school. Her husband was a superior I.A.S. (Indian Administrative Service) officer. He was a joint secretary in the Central Government in Delhi. She was used to giving charities from early in her life. Her family used to give freely to monks and heads of Maths. She performed many worships and rituals and as a result she lost her mind.

Her family could no longer manage her behavior, so they admitted her in the mental hospital. Since then her manner changed completely. Even after she was discharged from the mental hospital, she could not go back to her normal life. Unable to help her, her husband left her to her own devices. Her daughter's husband was also an I.A.S. officer. They both lived in Hyderabad. The two hundred rupees her husband sent every month, and the fifty rupees that the management of the school she had worked in paid her, these were her only monthly income.

Until she came to U.G. she had no one to care for her. U.G. arranged a room for her in the premises of Sastri Sadanam. Whenever she asked, U.G. would give her ten rupees. "U.G. sir made me a rich beggar," she used to say. Noticing her manner and ways, U.G.'s friends, Mahesh, Parveen Babi and many others became fond of her. Mahesh's wife Kiran liked Kalyani very much.

Kalyani used to keep a tab on how much money people gave her. In some fashion or other, as she saw fit, she used to help them. Once she asked me for five rupees and got it. Later, on my birthday, I received from the Kanchi Kamakoti Math Office some sacraments and a receipt in my name for five rupees. I wondered who sent them that money.

Another time she gave me a package and asked me to deliver it to the Swami (monk) residing in the Avani Sankara Math on the outskirts of Bangalore. I did not have the time to do that. Kalyani used to ask me everyday, "When are you going to go there?"

One evening I went there straight from my office and delivered the package to the Swami telling him that Kalyani asked me to give it to him. In the package there was a brand new sacred golden necklace worn by a bride on her wedding day and kept for the rest of her married life. The Swami and I were both surprised. Apparently, just two days before, thieves broke into the temple and stole valuable jewelry. Just as he was regretting that the image of the goddess didn't even have the sacred necklace, I brought this package. "That lady is not really crazy, I know her," the Swami affirmed and pressed the necklace to his eyes. I related the incident to Kalyani upon returning home. "Did you know before that this was going to happen?" I asked Kalyani. Kalyani poured abuses on me as a response.

To show her gratitude to U.G. for his help, Kalyani performed the services of cleaning the house and decorating it. U.G. used to say, "I can't afford a rich servant like you, Kalyani." She would never let anyone else do the household chores. When U.G. got angry at her, she used to hurry everyone with an authoritarian tone. One day after she finished her work she said to U.G., "Goodbye, Sir, I'll see you again." U.G. said, "Why see me again? Don't."

"I shouldn't come? If I don't come to torture you, who will?"

"Why do you want to torture me? What did I do to you?"

"Because of the sins you committed in your past life. You must suffer the consequences of torturing your wife in this life. " She said this and left. We all laughed loudly.

I felt that Kalyani must have had some extrasensory powers. U.G. says that they are commonly found in crazy people. But Kalyani's case is different. She is a veritable deity for Dr. Siromani of Hyderabad. Some friends of U.G. used to make fun of Dr. Siromani by calling her Devotee Siromani. She used to send clothes and lots of mangoes to Kalyani and to U.G.

Once U.G.'s daughter, Bharati, came to Bangalore. That morning her husband, Mr. Rayudu, was asking about the Skanda Nadi in Bangalore. He was wondering if the nadi could find any solution to some of the problems that bothered him. Kalyani said, "Sir. You are the son-in-law of such a great man as U.G., yet how come you are seeking the help of the Nadi man? Show me your hand, and I will tell you what you need to know." He was surprised at this and showed his hand to her. She looked at his hand from some distance and said, "You will get a promotion in your job. Your boss who has been pestering you will get transferred and you will get his job." After a few days, it exactly happened just as she had predicted.

Kalyani used to collect a lot of flowers from somewhere and shower them on U.G. She used to ask, "Sir, when will my ex(-husband) take me back? When will you send me to my daughter?" When U.G. would reply to her, "Forget all that Kalyani. None of that will happen," she would look disappointed and leave.

Finally, I did run into her husband once in Bangalore. He told me he didn't have any objection to her coming back. "But she must quit her roaming around and begging and remain at home," he said.

Kalyani smiled apathetically, on hearing this. "I can't see any difference between the street and my home, what can I do?" she explained. Her husband returned to Delhi. Her daughter, Sobhana Rangachari, was a great singer. She died in Hyderabad in a fire accident. I offered to take Kalyani to Hyderabad. She said, "Never." She said with conviction, "My daughter is still alive. I don't believe all those rumors."

Kalyani had a good singing voice. She was born in a family of great singers. I used to go into ecstasies hearing her singing the compositions of Tyagaraja, sitting in front of the picture of her favorite deity in her room. When I offered to record her singing she turned my offer down. When once I started recording secretly without her knowledge, she stopped her singing, became abusive and cried. But U.G. always used to ask her to sing whenever he gave her money. Sometimes he would stop his conversation and ask her to narrate incidents of her life in the mental hospital.

Kalyani continued her visits even after we moved to Poornakutee from the Anjaneya Temple Street. Meanwhile, she had an attack of breast cancer. No matter how much we tried to persuade her to undergo treatment, she refused. Finally, her chest became like a big open wound. Before she died in 1990, U.G. went to visit her once. She came running to the gate, crying. I was so sorry to see her in that state. U.G. tried to give her some money. She did not take it.

"Please grant me death, U.G. Sir! That's what I need," she begged, crying. U.G. remained silent. He stood quietly holding her hand. She died soon after. The day before she died, Suguna and I went to see her. She invited us in. She gestured for us to come in from her bed where she was lying. She showed us all her belongings in the room and said, "All these and whatever else I have belong to U.G. sir." Within a year after Kalyani died Valentine passed away. The seven thousand rupees that remained of the money which the Australian friends of U.G. gave Kalyani for medical treatment became the starter money for the school founded in Valentine's name.