I Run Amok in Chennai & Attacked in Shanti Ashram

August 6, 1999

Dear Parents,

Susheela has been writing angry letters saying Vinamra and I had done an unforgivably selfish act, and that the cat would not be able to stand the weather and would die off, and that we should bring it immediately back to Kotagiri. Also that her (Susheela’s) heart could not have any compassion for such selfish people, etc.

Whew! I didn’t answer the letter, as in an earlier letter to her I had said that the cat was happy in the driver’s house. With such people, it is better to be silent. “Silence is Golden.” Life has taught me that each one has their own personality and to take the changing of that personality into our own hands, is a fruitless task. We can't even change ourselves - how can we change others?! Better to accept them as they are and keep silent. Plus avoid the dangerous ones!

Speaking of personalities, I didn’t tell you the full cat story! On the way to Chennai it was I, not Vinamra, that was being scolded again and again by Jnaneswari, about the cries of the cat. As I could not convince Vinamra to leave the cat, I became an accomplice to the smuggling and helped to watch over it up to Chennai (all night journey). By morning I was receiving darting looks of anger from everyone except Vinamra.

We unloaded our luggage on the Chennai platform awaiting the Chennai host when the cat cried and Jnaneswari blew up at me again, “What is this, everyone against me!” I said, and thinking I couldn’t remain calm in such an atmosphere of such tension, I quickly went jumping the tracks saying, “I can't come with you all now! I will return to the connecting train this evening!” and I made my escape! No one could follow my daring leaps, only they could shout for me to return. But I was off, remembering my childhood days when I used to get upset and run off in the night to the abandoned school, there to hide in the bushes until I cooled off. Then I would climb into my room window in the early morning.

They spent the day in an A/C hotel room, having lunch at a devotee’s house.

I wandered in the streets of Chennai, finally settling in a big bus depot. It was sweltering hot and I hadn’t brought any money, so I sat quietly, alone and in silence. At one point I thought I would keel over from lack of water, as the water faucet in the depot was broken! Suddenly a kindly old sweeper lady came looking at me sadly and asked if I had eaten. When I shook my head, she asked if I wanted tea so I gratefully motioned that I’d like water (remaining in mouna, silence). Maybe she thought I was a runaway lady in dire straights! She compassionately brought a little purified water packet, and when I looked worried he Rs 1.25 price tag, she said I didn’t need to give any money. Thought God had sent the water to me!

In the evening, I returned to the train station, knowing the train would go by about 7:30 PM. Everyone naturally was not only worried, but thought I had gone crazy also! Yes, maybe! I grabbed my moneybag and bought lots of juices and water, before the train left 15 minutes later. Everyone just gave me the kind of looks they would give someone in a mental institution, only Bangaroo Uncle talked to me nicely like a normal person.

It was a week before Jnaneswari talked to me again! All the English letters are again the duty of Brother Swami ChidSivananda, who writes by hand. Even now Jnaneswari isn’t saying much to me. I think she might be afraid that I would go crazy again if she says anything wrong! Not crazy, you know how I just need to disappear alone for sometime, now and then.

Here rats and mice are on the increase, not having any fear of cats. I simply don’t know what to do about my room - there are so many mice in the red tiles on the roof! The mason says the house won't support a cement roof. I almost feel like keeping a snake to scare away the rats! The mice run around freely in my room, and are increasing their families at a frantic rate. The room is filled every day with their droppings, and my allergy is increasing, I wish I knew of a solution. All karma, no doubt!

Here rainy season pujas were started on Guru Purnima, 28 July. Every day puja and satsang from 7:30 – 9:15 AM and 5-8 PM. But I don’t go to the whole thing, only for two or three hours a day. Also I have to remove all old flowers and scrub all the stainless steel and brass puja vessels daily, which takes 1½ hours everyday. The strong-willed and strong-voiced Swamini Chidananda Giri is conducting the pujas (the young and dark Sanyasi here). She shouts out the mantras nicely, which jars my nerves; and also talks in the middle of the pujas of the weather, etc. To each his own - a nice, colorful creation of God’s!

Yesterday I had an interesting adventure. The prelude was that a couple of days ago (on 5th August), as I was returning from scrubbing the puja vessels at 10 PM at night, a snake was leisurely making its way across my path near my cottage, only a foot or so in front of me; good thing I had my flashlight! I stopped and waited until it passed, then went on, mentally making a note to see if any inauspicious thing would happen in the near future.

On 7th August, one boy who was formally in the hostel (now he’s about 16 or 17 years old) came to the ashram and was stalking around the Mandir area for a couple of hours, even coming into the kitchen area! When Jnaneswari asked who it was, he went away without saying anything.

When everyone was eating lunch, I came to my room to fold washed clothes and there he was, coming out from behind my cottage. “Hey you, what are you doing behind there?” I asked, thinking he was stealing the unripe mangoes on the tree there. He had a crazy type of look on his face, which reminded me of the mad dog that attacked me a few months ago (did I tell you about that one?).

As I deposited the clothes in my room, he tried to come in and kept saying, “Look here, see! They are angry with me, I will sleep in your room tonight and leave the ashram tomorrow morning.” I answered, “What has happened to you? Have you gone crazy? Go away!” Even then I wasn’t taking the thing seriously.

Suddenly he pushed into the room and attacked me, grabbing me by my neck and trying to throw me down! Though a votary of ahimsa, I decided I better protect myself so I started to bash him up nicely – BANG! BASH! “Ooooh! Ooooh!” he cried in pain and sudden fear. Then I caught hold of his shirt, tearing it in the process, whirled him around and threw him out the door and a couple of yards away. He was panting and staring at me just like the mad dog.

When I pushed him out he quickly picked up his chapels and then panted, staring at me! I thought, even in such a situation Indians are afraid of losing their shoes!

I quickly locked my room and walked away, searching for our god, Davidu the strong and muscular water boy (in Telugu, ‘Davudu’ means ‘god’!). I went all around the well area looking, but he wasn’t there. Finally I went around to the kitchen. From afar I saw the boy still standing outside my cottage! Pretty flustered and with red marks around my neck, panting, I went into the kitchen and to the amazed looks staring at me, informed those who were eating lunch (the girl Kumari, the girl Vasavi, Vinamra, Secretary Lakshmi and Jnaneswari) what happened. Everyone left their food and in a rare display of courage, dashed out to the scene of the crime!

Seeing everyone the kid dashed away; David soon came and started a hot pursuit whilst Jnaneswari mumbling angrily that I was utterly stupid for letting him go and that I should have locked up the kid in my room instead of throwing him out! The kid escaped, jumping over walls and getting a ride on a scooter going on the road. We know that he is from the village of Chebrolu, which is over an hour away on the Kakinada bus route, but no one pursued the matter further. (Everyone says he’ll never dare to return again.)

By God’s Grace I didn’t suffer anything more than a scratch on my arm. A first time experience! Good thing God made me courageous and strong. Anyway, he was a skinny and weakling of a kid. Everyone here says he was thrown out of the hostel a year ago, and he always acted strangely, laughing at everything, whether good or bad, even if someone died or was ill. (You may ask where dogs Vijay and Prince were during this event! I felt sure they had come with me to the room, but maybe they saw the crazy boy and retreated! Nowhere to be seen! When another dog comes they bark; but when the mad dog came and attacked me months ago, they ran away.)

Dad might remember the Warden of the boy’s hostel here. Sad to say his health took a turn for the worse recently. I don’t know what the hospital doctors did here, they don’t do any tests; they just give out medicines after guessing the disease in an intuitive way. The warden was weak and sick, and finally one day his urine stopped up. Only then did our wonderful doctor say that he had jaundice and his liver was already nearly fully gone. The doc advised him to get himself admitted into a hospital pronto. That was on Thursday and the bus journey was to be on Saturday morning but instead, they found the Warden dead that morning. Within two hours his body was carted away and cremated. Once again Indian (in-)efficiency helps one to fulfill destiny! (An interesting note is in the middle of the night, the Warden got up from his ashram room cot and went outside the door and lay down on the ground to sleep. The Indian belief is that one should die on the ground. Also, if one dies inside a room, that room has to be locked up for several months and cannot be used. Perhaps the Warden knew his time had come.)

Now the search is on for a new Warden who must look after the 110 boys, 24 hours a day for $15 a month. GOOD LUCK! (That’s pittance even for here!)

As for the Kotagiri fighting that you asked me about, it seems to be mainly concentrated on petty jealousies between ladies, concerning the kitchen. Examples of real-life conversations: “How dare you use the vegetables meant only for the Hyderabad devotees and me, as Jnaneswari gave me permission to use them? Never mind if the Hyderabad lady said you could use them because they are spoiling - they will say like that only but you should have discrimination and not use them!” (This is Susheela scolding and shouting at Vinamra, making her cry! Vinamra wanted to make a special dish for all the devotees.)

“Did you see such-and-so take an extra glass of milk? And milk is so rare here! My husband is such-and-so and the jewels I wear are worth such-and-so, how could that lady think she is greater than us when her husband is only a retired such-and-so, in such a lower position than us?

”Did you notice that such-and-so made a dosa for herself? How dare she, when we all have to eat common idlees day after day! Who is she, thinking she is so great and higher socially than us?”

It went on like that!

Whew! What a letter! Anyway hope you enjoyed the stories. Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu!

Hari Om!

Love,

Divya