(Copy of post #14267 on the advaitin list,
dated Aug.6,2002 under the title: Gita Satsangh: Chapter 8 Verses 5 to 7
These three verses of chapter 8 are always
very fresh in my memory because I have a monumental example of my father Shri
R. Visvanatha Sastri who did exactly as stated in these verses. He lived such a
life and his last moments were so remarkable that I cannot but relate to you the exact sequence of
events on that last morning of his life. Since many of the posts in this thread
are conjecturing about what could, would or might happen at the moment of
death, I want to share what-I-consider-to-be-unique experience of mine, as one who watched
a noble soul leave the body fully resonating with these slokas of the Gita.
Pardon me, members of the list, if I seem to be imposing myself on you all.
It was January 8, 1956. My father, a retired Pensioner from the
erstwhile British Government of India, was 74. I was 28. He was living in
One month before his demise, he fell ill for a
few days, even lost consciousness, but recovered very soon. Thereafter he even
exhibited signs of double vigour. He resumed his river bath, and visits to the temple
for darshan and so on. One day he called the pundits, (it was an eclipse on
that day, perhaps solar), performed some rituals (which later I understood was
a prAyaScitta ritual), performed a godAn (gift of a cow), and so on. Since he was generally religious and of a most
saintly type, we took these things for granted and did not realise that he was gradually
preparing for his final exit from this world. December-January corresponds to the Tamil
month of Margazhi (Recall:
mAsAnAm mArgasIrsho’ham – 10th chapter) which corresponds in the divine reckoning, to their early morning
time: 4 to 6. During this month throughout the Hindu world, morning pujas will
be performed certainly in all temples, but also in most families of the
traditional kind. My father used to do this early morning puja (which would be in addition to the
daily puja which came later in the morning at the usual time of 8 or 9 ). His
routine for the early mornings during December-January was to get up at four,
heat water for his bath and have his bath. The previous night itself my wife
would have kept ready the firewood and the pot of water that was necessary. He
would himself light the firewood and heat the water. After bath he would sit
for the puja. Simultaneously, he would also light the small charcoal oven (
known as kumutti in Tamil) and put on
it a small vessel containing water and moong dhal and rice with a few spices,
for making Pongal, for the naivedya to the Lord after Puja. The necessary materials
would all have been kept ready for him by my wife the previous night itself. He would
finish the dhanur-masa-puja about 5-45 or so, and just before the Arti time the
rest of the family (myself, my wife and children)
would wake up and have darshan of the Arti.
This routine was going on every day. But on the 8th
January, early morning, around 4-15 or so, he called me aloud and woke me up. I
got up and noted that something was strange that morning. He said that he had
just taken his bath,
and was about to begin the puja, but he felt not quite well. ‘Go brush your
teeth and come quickly’ he said. My wife also got up and both of us were ready
for him in a few minutes. He asked me to bring a shawl and cover him up. I saw
he was shivering. He sat opposite the puja altar where all the puja materials had
already been arranged as usual the previous night itself. He asked me to open the vessel containing
He made me sit near him and asked me to go get
the book and read ‘ambhasya pAre’. This refers to the first chapter of the
mahAnArAyaNopanishad which follows the three chapters of the taittirIyopanishad
in the taittirIya brAhmana of the yajurveda. It is a long paragraph going over
to four pages. I have heard him say on many occasions that this particular
anuvAka (paragraph) contains all the great mantras. I picked up the book from
his bookshelf and started reading it. By
that time I realised the gravity of the situation because when I noted that he
was not starting his puja, but just asked me to sit and read this portion from
the veda, I knew he was preparing himself for the
final journey. Naturally I faltered in my reading, both because of the excitement and also
because I had not been keeping myself in touch with the reading of these
passages because of my worldly activities and obligations. When I faltered, he
told me, ‘See, you have not been reciting it regularly and now you are
faltering’. And then he started shouting
the name ‘Narayana’,
‘Narayana’. His crying out the name of ‘Narayana’ repeatedly became so loud in
the next few minutes, that later in the day my friends who lived a furlong away
from me were going to report to me that
they heard the shouts of ‘Narayana’ in the early morning several times. He must
have cried aloud the name ‘Narayana, probably more than a hundred times that
morning. I became
fully aware of what was
going on, from his point of view; so, I did not disturb him. But he signalled
to me and put his head on my right lap while all the time crying out
‘Narayana’. The recitation of the Narayana name did not stop at all.
My wife in her anxiety called a neighbor, who
called another neighbor who was a doctor. The doctor came, examined, gave a coromin
injection and went away. But all the while my father, though fully conscious, did not respond to
any of the mundane conversation that either the doctor or my wife generated.
The children (ages 8, 5 and 3) came and watched the drama that the grandfather
seemed to be enacting. He just signalled to them to sit. My wife offered some
black coffee (there was no milk in the house at that time) which he did not
refuse. He allowed
it to go through his throat. He was lying on my lap and the nArAyana mantra was
going on still aloud. It was clear that
he had already bid good-bye to this body and its mundane associations.
I had now finished reading *ambhasya pAre*,
and not knowing what to do further and
not getting any further instruction from him, (because he was now not allowing
himself to be distracted even a little from his loud nArAyaNa recitation) I
started reciting the purusha sUkta which I happened to know by heart. As soon
as I started it, he signalled to me that that was OK. The decibel level of the narAyana recitation
was going down now. My wife got panicky and went out to call the same doctor
once again. She returned in just a few minutes with the doctor. By this time he
had stopped reciting Narayana and appeared to be sleeping, still on my lap. The
time was 5-40 AM. The doctor came and pronounced him
dead.
Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, if I had been too
personal and sentimental in this narration. But this is an
experience which I can never forget, nor would I want to forget.
Thanks for allowing me to share it with you.
praNAms to all advaitins
Yours, profvk