“Arunachala!” She implored, “Allow me to be with you, as one, forever!”
Sharada was worried. This was too tiring, and nobody had warned her about how tough it really was. At 66, she should have had strength and energy enough to complete the fifteen kilometer Girivalam path without getting as tired as she was now. Her sisters, Saraswathy and Shyamala were waiting for her patiently. They had also found it difficult to keep walking. This was the first time that the three sisters were walking on the Girivalam path, and they were at the Niruthi Lingam temple, the third of their ashtalingams. They had started walking at 6 p.m., but a much fulfilling stopover at Sri Ramanasram had delayed them.
At 9 p.m., they were tired and exhausted at the Niruthi Lingam temple. There were other pilgrims and regular devotees on the Girivalam path. Some were walking by rapidly, and some were sitting at the various resting places and enjoying themselves. Sharada came up to her sisters and sat down thankfully. Shyamala, the youngest at 51, started laughing at their plight, and said, “This is our lot now, and we are not even able to walk on a pilgrimage together. I hope we will be able to complete the Girivalam path without any problems, and offer our prayers to Arunachala at the temple.”
Sharada was also laughing, though in obvious physical pain. Saraswathy pointed at the tender-coconut vendor and gestured for him to bring over three coconuts, and remarked, “You are a fine one to say so! You are younger than me. I am only 54, but akka is much elder to us. She has a basket of problems, and her legs do not have the same strength as she used to have. Let’s have these coconuts and regain our strength. I am sure that even if we give up on the Girivalam path, our akka will not. She will even complete the entire route in a month, but she will not give up and go away!”
The tender coconuts refreshed them and they sat for a while, content, that after about ten years or so, the three of them were together. They had met during weddings or funerals, and lately, it was only funerals. Distant families after their weddings, settled in Mumbai, Tirupati and Chennai, they were away from each other and their brothers. Sharada tried to recollect the last time that the three brothers and three sisters had been together. It must have been at her son’s wedding, she thought. She will have to check the photo albums and the marriage videos and make sure.
Her sister-in-law’s daughters had spoken about the Girivalam path, and how they went about their walk easily, and that there were good facilities and one could join hundreds or thousands of pilgrims, even at night, on the fifteen kilometer walk, on certain days. Saraswathy spoke of her trip with college friends in her youth, to Tiruvannamalai, many years ago, and the idea had been turned into reality. Except that they had not taken certain factors into account. They were not in a walking condition at all. Their age had caught up with them and their strength was not what it used to be.
They went up to the Niruthi Lingam temple. There were quite a few devotees gathered in the outer sanctum. Some looked tired while a group was sharing their dinner at a corner. There was no priest at this time, and there were no prayers since this was not a Girivalam Pournami night. The three sisters went up to the closed doors of the inner sanctum and offered their prayers. Shyamala placed some coins in the plate containing the sacred ash and inserted some rupee notes into the hundi box. Saraswathy searched for a comfortable place for the three of them to take rest amongst all the devotees and their conversations. She knew that the eldest, Sharada, would need to recover from her blood sugar depletion and that they would have to rest here for at least 30-40 minutes or so.
There was a secluded place alongside the inner sanctum, and strangely it seemed quite peaceful. It was dark at that corner, and looked quite inviting. Sharada went off on a quick nap, while Shyamala went exploring around the temple. Saraswathy sat up near her elder sister, and thought back to her childhood, when she could never go off to sleep without curling up next to her very comfortable cushion-like elder sister. All those years, growing up together, all those memories! All gone! That was one of the very reasons that they had decided to come over to Tiruvannamalai and walk on the Girivalam path on pure impulse. They had never done so, together, the three of them, and this seemed like such a good idea.
Shyamala returned with a bunch of bananas, leaf-platters containing hot tamarind rice and curd rice. The three sisters ate up contentedly and Sharada seemed to recover her energy and enthusiasm. A large dog came walking up to them quietly, and stood watching them, silently. Sharada gestured to the dog, and said, “Does it look like it wants some of the rice from us? It’s just standing there.” Shyamala looked at the dog and pointed, “See, it seems upset. Its tail is not wagging. It is just watching us eat. It’s alone. Perhaps this is it’s place to sleep! Maybe we are not wanted here.”
Saraswathy laughed, “Yes! As though the dog is going to speak to you and ask you to get up from here. It is finding it strange that we are eating without giving it any food. Perhaps the devotees here give food to this dog without it have to beg for it. But, do look at the dog. It’s just standing there, in this darkness, not barking and not wagging its tail. It’s a very strange dog, for sure!”
“No! It’s not strange at all!” said a voice from the darkness, “What is strange about a dog that does not beg for its food and does not wag its tail?” Startled, the three sisters looked into the darkness. There was a large tree in the area away from the outer sanctum. On the ledge around the large tree, sat a shadow, a tall shadow, and judging from the voice and shape, a very tall woman. She was sitting out there, and there was another person with her. Another woman was seated on the ground below the ledge. They could not see them or make them out, and as they kept peering into the darkness, the two women were beginning to be more distinctively visible, as much as could be, at this time of the night.
The tall woman stood up from her seat on the ledge around the large tree and came up to the dog and the three sisters. The other lady stood up hastily, looking surprised, gathered up some food packets and came up closer. The tall woman was indeed tall, thought Sharada, ‘must be at least six feet’. She looked somewhat ‘sinister,very sinister,’ Saraswathy thought to herself. She was of a dark complexion and was entirely dressed in black, but was not dressed in any saree. She was in some sort of a modified shalwar or a longish qurta, with a black coloured, rich-looking shawl covering her. The dog stood quietly, looking at the three sisters.
Now that the woman and the dog were standing next to each other, Shyamala could realize that the dog was indeed quite tall, almost up to her waist. Watching her measure the dog’s height, the tall woman spoke to Shyamala, “Aamaa Kanna, he is a hound. But, do not worry, for he is a good boy. He does not do any harm, and does not mean any harm. He has been my companion for many years, and is very loyal. Normally, nobody sits here, in the dark areas behind the inner sanctum of the Niruthi Lingam temple. And, since me and my companion were resting nearby under the large tree, he came here to check you out.”
Having spoken thus, the two women sat along with the three sisters in the dark corner of the outer sanctum. Saraswathy offered their food packets and bananas, and the two women seemed to accept graciously. The quiet woman picked out some of the rice and pressed them into large morsels and offered them to the hound. Introducing themselves, Saraswathy said, “We are from Chennai. I mean, we were once in Chennai in our childhood, and now myakka is in Mumbai, and my younger sister stays at Tirupati and I am at Chennai. We decided suddenly to come on the Girivalam path, without any preparation. We have never been here before. We are not as young as before but we decided to do it anyway. Akka has been a national volleyball player in her youth, but today, she was very tired. So we decided to take some rest here, while she recovers her energy and strength.”
The tall woman smiled, looked at Sharada and said, “You do not decide that you are tired or you have energy while on the Girivalam path. HE decides. You did not decide that the three of you will come here and walk on the Girivalam route. HE decides. You are all from Chennai, and yet now, you are older than fifty years of age, you must be more than 65, I think. But you have never walked on the Girivalam route. Why could you not come here? This is not some picnic spot that one fine day you decide to come for a walk here. There are some devotees who must have gone around the sacred Arunachala formore than a hundred times, and there are a few who have walked around the entire path for at least a thousand times. But those are a rare few.”
Sharada smiled in agreement and replied, “True, you are very true. I could not have come here even when my college classmates came on their trip. I had to go for a volleyball tournament in Agra. My sister has been here once, to Tiruvannamalai, and she is indeed blessed, for she walked on the entire path in her youth. But, Shyamala, my darling youngest sister, she was never allowed to go for any trip to any place. I do not know if our parents had ever come to Tiruvannamalai or ever walked on the Girivalam path.They never told us, and we never asked. Perhaps it was a very normal pilgrimage for them in those days. But now, it seems like an achievement of some sorts.”
The tall woman gestured for her lady companion to sit alongside. The other lady came out of the darkness and handed over a 3-4 feet long sword to the tall woman. It was not like any vegetable cutting knife, thought Shyamala, but seemed like one of the swords from the movies, like NTR’s sword in one of those movies from the Mahabharata. The tall woman seemed quite comfortable with the heavy sword, and did not seem to be concerned that the three sisters were watching the weapon with considerable interest. The other lady smiled at their curiousity and laughed.
Noticing her laughter, the tall woman said, “O Khadgi! Anyone would certainly be surprised to see such a sword, and that too, with a woman. Dear sisters, do not be frightened. This is who I am. This sword is mine, and I carry it as the custodian of the village temple nearby. There has never been any robbery or dacoity in this area, but I am not a guardian against thieves. I am a guardian of a very old temple in this region, much older than the temples in these places. Those before me have been the carriers of the sword even before temples were built to house the ashtalingams. These eight aspects of Arunachala, the guardians of the eight directions have been here around the sacred formless aspect of Rudra, from a time before humans began to construct temples.”
Saraswathy nodded, “Yes. The ashtalingams are indeed guardians of the eight directions and it is here, Niruthi, that we are at the southwest. What do you guard with the sword? We are here on the Girivalam path, and everything looks so very peaceful. The devotees are happy among themselves, and they are quite familiar with the path and the people and the temples. I only hope that my elder sister is able to complete the entire walk and she is not taken unwell and there would be no problems to her.”
Khadgi, the younger lady, spoke, “You are in the sanctuary of the Niruthi Lingam temple. You have come here directly from the Yama Lingam temple. How can you not succeed? Speak in respect to Arunachala, for you are in HIS shadow. Speak in devotion, for every step that you take on the path, you take with HIS permission alone. There are those who rush around, and walk by swiftly without stopping at some of the ashtalingams. They are also those who are blessed, for their only destination is to go back to where they began. There are these families, who sit here and at other places in the shade of Arunachala, and they are also blessed. Do not be worried about your ability and your destination.”
Sharada asked, “But, what about pain? O sword-carrier, what about my pain? That is real, and I do feel my pain. I was feeling each step of mine, as I walked from the Agni Lingam temple onwards to the Niruthi Lingam temple. How can I be attentive to Arunachala, if I am only attentive to my physical distress and my pain? I have so many medical problems. Many expert doctors have told me that I have only six months to live, and that was since the past ten years or so. I have lived many six months since then. I have not come here on theGirivalam path to be cured of my physical distress. I have come here only in order to seek HIS blessings. To seek HIS blessings alone, to be at peace with myself.”
“I am called Dharini, and I am not merely a sword-carrier!” The tall woman said, as she smiled, “Through my many years, I have been called by many names. Since I carry this sword, I am called thus, as Dharini. Your pain is your sacrifice, for as one who carried her pain, you are here to sacrifice what is part of you. It was your decision to walk on the sacredGirivalam path, and you knew that it would be a very long walk. Yet, you did not worry about all the problems with your health. The illness of the body and the pain that you feel, are two separate aspects. Give away your pain at this sacred place, at the temple of Niruthi Lingam. Give away all your associated thoughts about your pain. Sacrifice yourself.”
“Sacrifice myself? Give away my pain? How do I do that, sister?” asked Sharada.
Dharini, the tall woman, the carrier of the sword, replied, “Think. Deep within your mind. You are here at the Girivalam path, and now, you are here at the Niruthi Lingam temple. Close your eyes and think. Who is the closest to you, and for whom would you sacrifice your pain and illness, and be peaceful with yourself, and be able to think only of Arunachala Shiva as you walk on this path? What if you committed some of the magic of Arunachala on yourself? What if you pulled out all the negative energy that you do know that you have? What if you were able to cast it away, just like that, as you search for Arunachala Shiva, within yourself?”
Sharada replied, “O Sister! I would sacrifice all my pain and all my illnesses for my sisters, who are with me today. I do not know when we will be together again. I may not even be alive for any longer after this pilgrimage. I can feel it all over me. HE is calling me. While I am alive, I know that I am to suffer with my ill health. But for this short period of time, in this precious time when we walk on the Girivalam path together, I would like to sacrifice my pain so that I walk with them in happiness and enjoyment, and that my sisters would remember this day forever, and would only remember my happiness.”
Saraswathy and Shyamala hugged their elder sister and seemed to be about to weep. Dharini spoke in anger, cautioning them, “Do not cry, for she wants you to remember her in happiness. Do you want her to carry a sorrowful memory? Niruthi Lingam is a place of magic, of transformation, as you turn around and cross a primordial direction.There is no corruption in the faith here, for even in death, you leave behind memories for others to carry. Remember that. You give off from yourself, you sacrifice from your pain, all the happiness that you can give others.”
“I am also known as Dharini, the Black One, for usually the people at my village are keen to allow me to depart quickly from their homes. It is thus in death also. Those who want you to be with them, are keen that you depart, when they are seeking corruption in their relationship with you. In the shadow of Arunachala, there is no corruption of your faith, and it is only an aspect within your mind. Give away your pain to Arunachala, for as Niruthi, as Rudra, that is his sacrificial share.”
Dakshinamurthy
Copyright with the original artist.
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