Detached-Attachment

The strange and fascinating story of Dr. Shankar S Iyer

- Dr. M Sathya Prasad, January 21, 2024

(All characters and events are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental and unintentional. )

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1. The familiar stranger

Shankar was sitting comfortably on the couch in the large living room. He gently looked around the massive room decorated with rare paintings and antiques. A beautifully framed replica of the nude picture of goddess Saraswati, originally drawn by MF Hussein, and autographed and dated by the maestro himself, was the highlight among the collections. 

“Expensive tastes”, he smiled to himself.

“Please have a cup of tea at least”, begged Sarasamma. She had been the trusted maid of the house for almost forty years. Sarasamma was a Brahmin lady, widowed fairly young. Childless and with no one to care for her, she came into this household when she was barely twenty. Her small outhouse in the compound had been her den since arriving. Although she looked frail and older beyond her sixty years, she was never known to have been sick except on two occasions. She never left the house, except for some regular grocery shopping nearby or to the Ganesh Temple around the corner. She mostly kept to herself and would never talk even to the neighbours. Even inside the house, this workaholic was a woman of few words. She was courteous and kind, but a hermit of sorts. She took care of the cooking and also managed the servants. Her loyalty to the house was so great that not a safety pin could be taken away from the house without her notice. She watched like a hawk and was very protective of the household. Except for a very occasional and mild smile, it is hard to read Sarasammal. She was mostly to herself with no expressed emotions. One could see a cold expressionless countenance in her eyes. She was a karma yogi of sorts more out of fate than choice.

“When would she be back?”, Shankar asked. 

“She has gone to the gym. She should be back anytime. Please have some nice hot cardamom tea.”

“Not now. But since you insist, let me have a plain glass of water. Nothing healthy as a glass of water.”

2. The Greek Goddess

As Shankar was nonchalantly flipping through a magazine, he heard the gates open and a car enter. An expensive BMW XM gently made its way into the massive porch of the bungalow and out came Rekha. Even before she entered the large hall where Shankar was sitting, her perfume filled the room. 

Rekha strode into the house with a majestic gait. She was beautiful, fair, slim, tall, fit, and shapely that one would not assume her age to be any more than thirty-five. But she was forty-seven. Her natural jet-black hair was luscious and bouncy. Her make-up was just appropriate. If not for her enviable education and zeal for business, she could have easily settled as a movie star or a supermodel. Rekha was ultra-modern and you could see a streak of entitled arrogance on her face. An arrogance that naturally stems from money, education, and fame. She was proud of what she had achieved. The modest family business she inherited years ago stands today as a giant, in no small measure due to her intelligence, drive, and acumen.

Shankar did not even turn his head. He continued flipping through the magazine.

“Sarasamma,” shouted Rekha even as she entered, “Is the bathroom ready?”. “How many times must I tell you visitors must sit only in the veranda? You can’t let people inside just like that without an appointment and my permission. Who is sitting there? Is it some fellow from the temple for a donation? How many times should I tell you not to let these anna-kavadis (one who begs for food) inside? Such people must be kept outside the gate. If this man wants money, throw some fifty or hundred at him and send him away immediately. Why is this fellow sitting right royally on my Italian couch? These people only deserve a wooden bench.”

Rekha couldn’t see Shankar’s face from where she was standing. Shankar ignored all her shouts and casually continued flipping the magazine pages without even budging an inch or bothering to turn back to look at her. His indifference further irritated her.

“Look at the audacity and arrogance of this rustic fool! Here I am screaming my lungs out and he is totally unconcerned! Sitting in my house and not even responding to me. Is he deaf? Show him the door and let him wait outside." 

"Sarasamma, what is for breakfast today? I need to go to the ladies’ club immediately after my breakfast. Actor Pankaj is coming to open the blood donation camp and I am supposed to garland him. I must leave in an hour for the event.”

Rekha was firing words like a machine gun. She was in her workout dress. Her dark blue, low-waist, Nike spandex shorts well-complemented a skimpy, sleeveless, baby-pink, spaghetti-strap top that had the challenge of what to conceal and how much to reveal. She looked seductive. Rekha removed her hair band and tossed her hair with a gentle shake of her head. Her wavy tresses gracefully fell on her lithe shoulders. Her large Gucci coolers that doubled as a headband above her broad and well-formed forehead only accentuated her glamorous look. The drops of sweat on her cheeks after the workout were shining like pearls on ivory. She was dazzling like a Greek Goddess.

“Today is Sunday Amma (a respectful way of addressing a woman, which also means mother) and I thought you would take some rest,” Sarasamma quietly responded in a low voice. She always looked on the floor while talking to Rekha with a combination of fear and respect. “Our Shankar is here Amma; he came just half an hour ago”.

That was when Rekha took a closer look at the young man sitting on the couch.

3. What a contrast!

“Shankar, it is so nice to see you after so many years”, patted Rekha on Shankar’s shoulders. Shankar could smell the expensive brand of perfume that Rekha was wearing – the most expensive one from ‘Baccarat’. Rekha tried to hug Shankar, but he politely resisted.

Shankar (full name, Shankar Sundaram Iyer) the only son of Mrs. Rekha Sundaram, just completed twenty-six years. Well-built and strong, Shankar posed a very contrasting picture. His face radiated with Brahma Tejas (divine lustre). Smeared with Vibuthi (holy ash) all over, with a dot of Kumkum (a Hindu sacred vermillion mark) in the middle of his forehead, it was hard to believe Shankar was Rekha’s son. Sporting an eight-yard dhoti, a simple cotton kurta (a traditional upper garment), and a cotton jolna (sling) bag, Shankar was an epitome of divinity and simplicity. Yet his bright eyes radiated inexplicable energy only possible by intense sadhana (spiritual austerity) and tapas (penance).

It has been nine years since Shankar had been to this house. Yes! Nine long years. 

“When did you come back to India Shankar? I never knew you were coming. How long do you plan to be here in Chennai? I am so happy to see you, my son, after so long! Where is your baggage?”

“I tried calling you so many times Amma (mother). You were busy with meetings and business trips. I have some official engagements here and decided to come on a short trip. I arrived in India a couple of days ago from France. My project at CERN is almost coming to an end. The Government of India wants me to come back and set up an Advanced Centre for Theoretical and Mathematical Physics at a research outfit here in Chennai. I thought it would be best to move back to India. I shall be heading back to France in three days and after that in two or three weeks, I will move back to Chennai for good.”

“Where is your baggage?”

“I am put up at Vasanthi Maami’s (aunty) home in Kanchipuram, Amma”.

“But why are you staying there my child, and that too in Kanchipuram, when you have such a big house right here in Chennai? Isn’t this your home?”, Rekha stared at her son.

“Where is Appa (father)?”

“Sundaram has gone for a round of golf. Will be back only at 3:00 PM. You know how his Sundays are. Golf. Breakfast in the club – pork chops and whiskey. A round of cards, drinks, and chain-smoking with his buddies. He has his life and I have mine. Everyone deserves to be independent. For the last two years, I have switched to only vegetarian food. I have also stopped alcohol. Sundaram cannot survive without booze and non-veg.”

There was a visible consternation on Shankar’s face.

4. The shamelessness of social life

“Oh! Anyway Amma, you told Sarasamma that you must go to a blood donation camp in an hour. That is a noble activity. I must not stand in your way. I just came to see you and Appa. Let me get going. You mustn’t be late.”

Rekha stood silently for a minute, staring at her son. Shankar was gently smiling with humble confidence.

Suddenly she took her mobile phone and put it on speaker mode. It was easier that way since the gym workout made her sweaty and pressing the phone on her sweaty face caused a slight discomfort.

“Yes Rekha, what’s up! We are expecting you in an hour in the camp. Pankaj cannot wait to see you.” A lady’s voice at the other end spoke.

“Anita, sorry yaar. Something unexpected came up. I can’t make it to the blood donation camp today.” Rekha sighed.

“Darling, Pankaj would be really upset if he came to know. You know his affection for you. Last time he hugged you so tightly that I thought your rib cage would crush. Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Don’t disappoint him. He accepted our invitation only on my assurance that you will be there. He wants to cast you as his heroine in his next movie. If you leave Sundaram, he will even marry you!”

“Sorry, Anita! You know I honour commitments. But not this time. Tell Pankaj I will meet him some other time. I need to attend to something important, urgent, and personal.”

“Come on Rekha, don’t say that your husband is again seeing Rosie. Heeee…. Heee. Heee…”, Anita was condescendingly mocking.

“Bye Anita. Will catch you later.” Rekha cut the phone.

5. Modernity throws culture out of the window

There was a pain in Shankar’s eyes that Rekha didn’t bother to notice. Social life brings one in contact with all sorts of people and the first thing to be driven out is shame, culture, and modesty. Social life is the antonym of Satsangh.

Rekha stood right in front of Shankar now and said, “I have cancelled my appointment. The whole day is for you.”

“Mother, first go in and please change your outfit. I cannot bear to see my mother wearing these clothes.” Shankar’s eyes were downcast at his mother’s immodest attire.

“You find my outfit repulsive!” Rekha smiled. “The guys coming to the gym adore my dress sense. My presence seems to have increased the gym membership. You are still so Carnatic, Shankar! Antiquated. Can’t believe that France has not changed you one bit for the better! Let me take a bath and come back in a few minutes. Let us have breakfast together.”

In a few minutes, Rekha was back in a figure-hugging nightie. For the sake of avoiding Shankar’s remonstrations, she wrapped a dupatta around her to hide her usual plunging neckline.

Sarasamma kept a glass of water on the dining table and entered the kitchen to fetch the breakfast. The dining table was made of solid rosewood, ornate and large, and could easily seat ten people. Rekha pulled Shankar’s hands and made him sit on a chair right adjacent to hers. She gently caressed her son’s hair, tied in a ponytail.

“Is this your French hairstyle Shankar”, she mocked.

“No Amma. This is kudumi – Shikha (traditional pigtail of Brahmins). I am doing Yajur Veda adyaynam (spiritual study). Completed many years of practice, along with my CERN research activity. Have 3 more years to complete studying the Yajur Veda. I am now researching the connection between Vedic intonations and cosmic vibrations. Have been learning the Veda online through my guru.” Shankar was earnest in his response. His voice had strength, firmness, and dignity, but with neither any tinge of vanity nor was he overbearing.

“When exactly did you arrive? Why are you staying in Kanchipuram? How long will you be here? What have you been doing? When are you starting your new assignment? You are already twenty-six and people are approaching me to get you hitched. My business partner Sahil has a beautiful daughter. My friend Sarah also has a lovely daughter of marriageable age. These are all multimillionaire families and would be the right social fit for us. If you say yes, Sundaram and I can proceed.” Rekha put her fair, slim, and tender arms around her only child.

Shankar slightly glanced at his mother and smiled quietly. 

“I told you; I came from France only two days ago.”

“You could have informed me, Shankar. I would have arranged for an airport pick-up.” Rekha sounded a bit annoyed.

“That would be too much of a luxury for me Amma. I am a simple man. Plus, I didn’t want to disturb you. Today being a Sunday, I thought you might be relatively free.”

“But I never knew you were coming.”

“I tried calling you and Appa many times. Both of you were too busy to even talk to me. On a few occasions when I could connect with you people over the phone, both you and Appa promised to call me back, but never did. I can understand. Running a business is not easy.”

“I hope you are not being sarcastic.”

“No Amma. I am earnest. It is good not to be a burden to anyone.”

“So, wise man, who taught you to speak like this?” Rekha attempted a bit of humour.

“In a way, I owe it to you and Appa.”

“You are joking young man!”

“No Amma. You and Appa taught me to introspect even at a young age.”

Rekha interjected, “Well, we gave you a privileged upbringing. We put you in the best boarding school, then sent you to the US for undergraduate. Of course, you have always been a good student. Good in studies, sports, and conduct. Proud of you, my son.” Rekha ran her delicate fingers through her son’s hair.

Shankar had a slight tremor and by reflex moved a bit aside. Rekha did not fail to notice it.

“Ha…. Haaa…. Haaa…. Haaa.” Shankar started to laugh, looking at Rekha, “Yes! Yes! Privileged upbringing indeed mother. Privileged indeed!”

Rekha flipped her mobile and showed the screen to Shankar – pictures of two gorgeous girls dressed in an ultra-modern fashion. “The one in red is Salma, daughter of Sahil, and the other one is Rita, daughter of my friend Sarah.” Both these families want to have an alliance with us. I can introduce you to both. Date them and go steady with whomever you like. Sundaram should also be okay with that.”

Shankar did not even look at the pictures.

“I know when and whom to marry. You need not bother Amma. Allow me to lead my life in a way I deem appropriate.”

“Young man, watch out. You are talking to your mother. I have certain duties as your mother.”

“Yes! Yes! You are my mother, aren’t you? Glad you haven’t forgotten that.”

“What do you mean by that statement? I am only meaning for your good. Plus, our wealth and status will increase if you marry one of these two.”

“Well, Amma, I think I will see Appa some other day. I need to get going. Since I will anyway move back to Chennai in a few weeks, perhaps we might have more opportunities to meet if your time permits. Buses are going to Kanchipuram from Koyembedu and if I leave now, I shall be there by lunchtime.”

6. A shallow marriage

Just then Sundaram entered. Just like Rekha’s perfume heralded her entry, Sundaram’s whiskey smell indicated his homecoming. Sundaram was handsome and tall, wearing Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses, Wrangler jeans, and a Nike T-shirt. His properly trimmed French beard complemented his gracious build. He was style personified. The sun outside made his fair skin crimson, only adding to his beauty.

“What Sundaram, so early?”, Rekha looked askance.

“Oh! My buddies Partha and Badri were so drunk that they got into a fistfight. Raghav took them to the clinic and our party ended quickly. Who is this young man?”

“Appa, this is Shankar. Came from France yesterday.”

“Hello, my son!”, Sundaram’s gait was a bit unsteady. He was drunk. “Let me sit here and listen to you people. You were talking about something and I interrupted. Plus, I need to sober up and so I rather shut up and listen to you.”

“Shankar, you must marry one of these two girls.”

“I told you Amma. Do you want me to be here or leave right away?”, Shankar smiled.

Rekha now flew into a rage. “What do you mean, you have to go now, Shankar? I cancelled my appointment to spend the day with you. You have come after nine long years. We sent you to the US for undergraduate when you were seventeen and situations were such that we couldn’t even meet. What exactly is in your mind? Why don’t you want to marry the girl I suggest and settle with us in this palatial bungalow? Why must you now go to Kanchipuram? I am your mother don’t forget that. Do you know what mother’s love means? Don’t act smart now Swami Shankarananda.” Rekha’s words sounded scornful but her eyes were glossy with tears and rage.

Sundaram nodded in agreement with his wife’s wisdom.

Shankar was unmoved. He looked at his mother kindly but firmly. He was silent and slowly rose from his chair.

With a firm grasp, Rekha pulled his hands and forced him to sit down. “You are not going anywhere now. You have been separated from us for the last nine years. You are our only son. You must stay with us for the rest of our lives. We gave birth to you. Don’t forget your responsibilities to us as a son. Even the law says that a son must not abdicate his responsibilities to his parents. Why? Even the scriptures you study exhort, ‘Maatru devo bhava – venerate your mother like God’. I can also quote scriptures. I can also use logic and argue the same point for and against. Don’t underestimate my intelligence. I am a multitasker.” Rekha was choked with emotions and became a bit incoherent in her verbal articulation. Her lips quivered a bit.

Shankar smiled, “Do you know what I have been doing in the last nine years?”

Sundaram (in a drunken drawl), “Only if you tell us.”

“But I couldn’t get any time from you even over the phone,” Shankar said somewhat disdainfully.

“Don’t keep repeating that like a parrot. Tell us what is in your mind.” snapped Rekha.

“We named you as Shankar Sundaram. How come you changed it to Shankar Sundaram Iyer?” quizzed Sundaram.

Shankar chuckled. “I still have yours as my middle name Appa. I gave our traditional last name to myself since I felt it conveys certain dharmic responsibilities I am supposed to shoulder.”

“These are all way above my league”, Sundaram smiled wryly.

“My stand on spirituality is amorphous”, added Rekha. Only God knows what exactly she meant by amorphous!

“You were only twenty-one years old when I was born. Isn’t it so Amma?” Shankar looked at his mother.

“Yes. My father was keen to get me married and found Sundaram. He said that our horoscopes matched perfectly. I was so young and naïve.”

“Mom, I know you were in love with an autorickshaw driver called Muniyandi. Fortunately, or unfortunately, that fellow committed a murder and was thrown in jail. Before he could come out on bail, grandfather moved places and got you hurriedly married to Appa.”

Sundaram’s eyebrows raised and furrowed. “I never knew that story!”

Rekha was a bit flustered, but she quickly composed herself, “That is utter nonsense”.

“No Amma, I have Grandpa’s diary with me, the only relic of the past I have with me. All the details are there. It has never been a happy marriage for you and Appa, right?”

“Yes. Never has been. We never gelled. Our marriage is somehow still surviving. Perhaps for the sake of the society. Perhaps for your sake. I don’t know. We are incompatible. I was young and immature and simply accepted what your grandfather dictated.” Despite her best efforts to suppress, tear drops rolled down from the corners of her large and beautiful eyes. She came closer to Shankar and held his hand. “Perhaps you were the only good thing that happened because of our marriage. You are our bridge. Your father and I live in the same house and the world knows us as spouses, but that is right where it stops. Life has given no meaning to me. Nothing whatsoever. Life to me has always been empty. Sigh! Anyway, tell me about yourself.”

7. The scourge called power, wealth, money, and fame

“Amma, I remember things distinctly from when I was two years old. There used to be numerous fights between you and Appa. Appa used to tell you that you should have aborted me as a fetus. I even remember you calling the cops once when things turned violent between you and Dad.”

“Yes. That was a long time ago. Since then, we have led our separate lives. We went through some financially hard times when you were two years old.”

“And that was when Appa wanted you to act in movies.”

“Yes. I was young and extremely beautiful. The movie industry promised fame and money. So, I acted in a few movies, which helped us make some money using which we could rejuvenate the business.”

“So, why didn’t you continue in the movie industry?”

“It was full of sleaze, but the glamour, money, and fame were very enticing. It was also putting strain on my already strained marriage since many men were after me. Sundaram couldn’t take the pressure and took to the bottle. I acted in movies without the knowledge of my parents. When they came to know, they were so ashamed that they wrote a letter and committed suicide. Somehow, I came out of the movie industry, did an MBA, and put the business back together to become where we are today.”

“In the process, Amma, I became a burden for you and Appa, right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was very difficult to put our lives together and also take care of a two-year-old. The movie industry was also very dirty. So many things. Tough times.”

“But you and Appa could have taken up a normal and simple job.”

“The only thing common between your Appa and me was to become rich and famous. We were young and fast. We were competing with each other. We wanted to achieve and make a name for ourselves. We were constantly trying to one-up on each other. We wanted to earn money and more money. Don’t ask me whether it was right or wrong. Much water has flown under the bridge.”

“So, as a two-year-old, I was an additional burden that tethered you down, wasn’t it so Amma? What was my fault Amma?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far to call you a burden. But anyway, tell me about yourself.”

Shankar took one deep breath and made himself more comfortable on the plush couch. “Let me tell you everything that you may not know about me. I at least owe you my side of the story and your place in my life. You said that it is my responsibility to be with you and take care of you. I need to give you my perspectives on that as well.”

8. Love comes from unexpected quarters

“As I said before, I remember almost everything from the time I was two years old. During the first two years of my birth, Sarasamma took care of me and then she fell ill. You had to put me in a daycare.” Shankar shivered a bit. “You were so well dressed and beautiful Amma, I wanted to spend more time with you. Sarasamma told me that you refused to even breastfeed me out of fear I would cling to you. She told me that right from my first month I was bottle-fed.

Daycare gave you a place to dump me Amma, but to me, it was a nightmare. I lost count of how many times I got slapped by the ayah (servant maid) when I cried and the number of times, she would have touched me inappropriately. I would be slapped even if I resisted or cried. The milk powder, snacks, etc. that you gave her every week to feed me were eaten by her. Every time you left me in the daycare and went away, my little heart pined for you. I had no way of expressing it. The ayah’s paramour used to visit the daycare almost every day and I have seen them in the most uncompromising positions. I have even been slapped by that wretched fellow a few times. But by evening your BMW will come to pick me up. You wouldn’t even get out of the car. Sarasamma would walk into the daycare. The ayah would present a completely different picture. She would act as the gentlest, get me ready by powdering and combing me. While you and Sarasamma thought I was being taken care of well, it was completely the opposite in the daycare.

On seeing you, I would lunge towards you. As a two-year-old, I couldn’t yet speak and was pining for your attention and affection. Yet, you used to push me aside and yell, “Sarasamma, why are you not holding Shankar tightly? He would mess my make-up and I have a party to attend after dropping home both of you.” Amma, you were slowly becoming a stranger to me and for a while, I used to think Sarasamma was my mother. I began to depend more and more on her. Yet I was taught to call you both Amma and Appa. Even Appa never came near me. His life revolved around business, friends, parties, and travel. I was a non-entity in the house. You even refused to have a second child since you felt that would intrude into your career and also make you put on weight.

It was only when I was five years old, I realized for the first time the holy role of parenthood. When you and Appa wanted to go on your second honeymoon, you dropped me at my friend Anand’s home for four days, for lack of a better alternative. It was there I saw the other side of life for the first time. Anand lived in a small house. His mother Vasanthi Maami was a homemaker and his father was a Vedic purohit. The first day I came home with Anand to his house after school, Anand ran towards his mother and flung himself into her arms. I cannot forget the way she hugged him and kissed him endlessly. I was watching all this with surprise. Suddenly she realised that I was there and called me and hugged and kissed me in the same manner. I had electricity passing through me. Indescribable bliss. I was also a bit confused. ‘Why is my Amma not doing this to me?’

The bed in their house was a simple one. They would put one big blanket on the floor of their modest living room and all five of us would sleep adjacent to each other. Radha (Anand’s kid sister) would sleep near her father (Ramu Maama). Then Anand and next to her Vasanthi Maami. I would sleep on the other side of Vasanthi Maami. She would turn towards my side and often sleep hugging me. Many times, I would also wrap my hand and leg around her. It felt so good. Not even once I had slept near you or Appa. Your bedroom was out of bounds for me. In the pretext of privacy and independence, I was given my own room right from when I was a baby and I used to feel so lonely. Hugging Maami while sleeping felt so comfortable and secure. I could go and sit on Anand’s father’s lap anytime I wanted to. I was treated the same way as they would treat Anand and Radha. Vasanthi Maami has even fed me with her own hands. Ramu Maama would do elaborate poojas and Maami would chant some sloka or the other all the time. I never once saw her without a smile. All the grandparents of Anand were in the same house. It was a packed yet lively dwelling.

These things were strangely new to me since I saw none of these with you and Appa. We had this big mansion with no love and here was this little home overflowing with love, laughter, and devotion. That was when I firmly realised that all Appa and Amma are not like my Appa and Amma.

When you came back from your trip it was very difficult for me to part the company of Vasanthi Maami. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged me and said, “Shankar Kanna, you come from a wealthy family. Maami is just a lower middle class. Forgive us if our stay didn’t match the luxuries you are accustomed to.”

I hugged Vasanthi Maami tightly. What luxuries! What mansion! The love I got from this family for the four days gave me a different perspective on life.

9. The curse called modernity

After your trip, you and Appa invited Sahil-uncle and Sarah-aunty for dinner. You waxed eloquent on your Mediterranean trip and showed the photos to them. There were many pictures of you wearing a bikini. So much contrast to the modest eight-yard cotton chungudi (polka-dotted) saree worn by Vasanthi Maami. You were all drunk. Sahil-uncle was so drunk that he was looking at your bikini pictures again and again. Then suddenly he threw himself on you, hugged you, and kissed you. Dad and Sarah-Aunty were laughing and cuddling each other. In a drunken drawl, Sahil-uncle said, “Come with me, Rekha. Leave Sundaram. I will marry you.” You were all laughing. They say, “bharya roopavathi shatru”, i.e., a beautiful wife is the husband’s enemy.” Shankar sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Amma’s beauty is a curse for this family and I swear to remove the curse.

Until then, I was possessive of you and Appa and pined for your love and affection. But at that moment I decided in my heart that Vasanthi Maami and Ramu Maama would be my spiritual parents. I was disgusted with both of you. Had I not stayed with Vasanthi Maami, I would have considered the whole episode as a ‘matter of fact’. I never would have known a different life. I was disgusted with you people.

To get your space and privacy, and to focus on your pursuits, you decided to put me into a boarding school when I was barely ten years old.

The first week in the boarding school was a nightmare, to say the least. I felt very lonely.

I was given a room, shared by three other kids. Kamaal was a big bully from Malappuram, Kerala. Caesar, a convert from Haryana, was a sneaky fellow. Then there was this Parivallal from Kanyakumari. He was the son of the third wife of a local ruling party MLA.

10. Ostracisation of brahmins

When my roommates learned I was a Brahmin, they turned on me with a cruelty I hadn’t anticipated. Kamaal, a towering boy with a sharp tongue, seemed driven by a need to dominate everyone around him. Caesar, sly and calculating, thrived on sowing discord to feel in control. Parivallal, whose father’s political clout gave him an air of untouchability, carried a chip on his shoulder, lashing out at anyone who seemed different.

Their taunts cut deep. Kamaal and Caesar mocked my small, pocket-sized picture of Lord Ganesha, which I kept from Grandpa’s diary. One evening, as I prayed silently, tears streaming down my face, they snatched it from my hands. “What’s this nonsense you’re worshipping?” Kamaal sneered, tearing the picture in two, while Caesar laughed, egging him on, "Look, we have easily destroyed the Satan you are worshipping". The pain in my chest was unbearable—not just from the act, but from the humiliation. I clutched the torn pieces, sobbing for nearly half an hour, my body aching from Kamaal’s punch to my stomach as they left the room, still chuckling.

Parivallal was no better. He seemed to resent anyone who didn’t bow to his sense of superiority. One night, as I slept, he noticed my yagnopaveedham (sacred thread), which I held onto like a lifeline, a gift from Vasanthi Maami’s teachings. He crept over and cut it with scissors, tossing the severed thread onto my face the next morning. “Here’s your precious string,” he mocked. “Go fly a kite with it.” The humiliation burned, but I swallowed my rage, remembering Maami’s words about the power of prayer. Silently, I chanted the slokas she’d taught me, finding strength in their rhythm.

I was targeted for no reason other than being myself—a quiet boy who clung to his traditions. Their cruelty wasn’t about me alone; it reflected their own struggles. Kamaal’s bravado hid a fear of being overlooked, Caesar’s cunning masked his insecurity, and Parivallal’s arrogance stemmed from a need to prove himself in his father’s shadow. But understanding this didn’t ease my pain. I felt trapped, isolated in that sprawling, expensive boarding school.

One evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. I found a gap in the campus fence, a spot where the security was lax, and slipped out into the dusk. The world outside felt empty, save for a small Ganesha temple nearby. A lone priest, his face glowing with quiet wisdom, sat chanting slokas. He spotted me and called out, “Ambi, what’s a boy like you doing sneaking out at this hour? Come here.”

11. God sees the truth but waits

“Ambi (an endearing term to call small kids), come here. What is your name? You look like a rich kid. Is this what they teach you in your boarding school – to sneak out at dusk unnoticed? Get back in.” He looked very pious and his face was radiating with energy. He must have been around sixty years or so.

I did not know what happened to me! I just ran to him, hugged him tight, and started to cry. I sobbed and I sobbed. He looked at me gently and gave me a laddu to eat. Then he put me on his lap and asked about me. I related everything to him; everything and more than what I have just now shared.

He looked at me very intensely for two or three minutes. I felt the power in his eyes. It was such an intense look. “My name is Parasurama Sastrigal. Don’t worry. Everything will be alright. Goddess Ambal’s kadaksham (grace) is fully with you. You have nothing to fear.” He smeared some vibuthi on my forehead. “See me every day. Don’t worry about anything. I expect you here every day for an hour in the evening.” He took the torn Ganesa picture from me, pasted it nicely, and laminated it. I always carry it in my wallet. See, here it is.” Shankar opened his wallet and pulled out the tiny picture of the Lord. “This is the only possession from this family I carry with me, apart from Grandpa’s diary.”

I felt as if a big burden was lifted away from me. Joyfully I snuck back into the campus through the hole in the fence and even as I came inside the campus, I felt a tight slap on my left cheek. My ears started to ring and the pain was intense. In the darkness, I could see the silhouette of a large, muscular, and well-built man. “Thief,” he thundered. “Who are you and what business do you have, sneaking in like this? Tell me now or I will break your bones.”

It was our strict physical training master, Mr. Balaraman. I looked at him, trembling, and could only manage to utter, “Sir, I went to the temple nearby and met Parasurama Sastrigal. I am a new student here sir. My name is Shankar, sixth standard sir.”

Immediately there was a change in his demeanor. He gently lifted me as though I was a little child and kissed my cheeks. His eyes welled up. 

“I know him well. Tell me why you went there.”

I related the whole story to my PT sir and also the fact that Parasurama Sastrigal wants to see me every day. 

“I am what I am today only because of him,” my PT master sighed, “I owe him a lot.”

Then he gently placed me on the ground and said, “Look child, Parasurama Sastrigal is my uncle. I will put him as your local guardian and permit you to visit him for two hours every day. I am the second most powerful person here after the principal and have unquestioned authority in this school. But keep this a secret. I shall tell the security people to let you out and in from 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM. If Sastrigal permits, you could spend the whole of Sunday with him. And don’t worry about the bullies. God will punish them appropriately. But I shall also act as God’s emissary”. He winked at me, smiled, patted my back, and went his way.

I was delighted and thus happened the most enlightening tutelage under Parasurama Sastrigal for the next seven years until I left the boarding school for the United States.

“But you never told us all these,” interjected Sundaram.

“Appa, when did you ever answer my phone calls or emails? You surrogated the entire parenting to the boarding school and never even bothered about my presence in your life. You weren’t different either, Amma. Even my vacations were spent with Parasurama Sastrigal.”

“And what happened to the bullies?” asked Rekha.

“Oh!”, said Shankar, “My room was changed immediately. Pari’s father lost the election and was thrown in jail for corruption. So, he had to discontinue. Caesar was caught handling drugs and was thrown out of school. All these happened within two months of joining.”

“What about Kamaal?”

“That is an interesting story. He hung around for one full year. But without Caesar, he was a bit subdued, although he was keen to rub me on the wrong side. But in a year, I did so many physical workouts that I became much stronger – all thanks to my PT sir, and Sastrigal. In a wrestling match, Kamaal challenged me and I gave him such a thrashing that his teeth broke. Since it was part of the sports day events, people only cheered me. The PT master also did not stop the fight until Kamaal was almost unconscious. I became an instant hero in school. My academics were also very good and so life became smoother. Kamaal’s father was caught smuggling gold paste inside his rectum and was thrown in jail. So, Kamaal had to go back to Kerala and join a government school there.”

12. Sanatana dharma is the highest form of living

“What did you learn from the Sastrigal? Are you still in touch with him?”

“Almost everything! I talk to him daily. He taught me Sandhyavandanam which I do thrice a day. He taught me to read, write, and speak Sanskrit. Then he taught me key parts of Vedas like Shuktams, Rudram, Chamakam, etc. He taught me Vishnu and Lalitha Sahasranamams. Then when I was in my nineth-standard, he properly initiated me into Yajur Veda adhyaynam. He is the one teaching me Vedas online every day. So, yes, I am very much in touch with him.”

“In essence, he converted you into a stone-age man,” laughed Sundaram.

“Ha, ha, haaaa….”, Shankar joined the laughter, “Appa, you may not know, I am one of the foremost scientists in the world in the field of nuclear physics and theoretical mathematics. I have published several papers in the journals Nature and Science. My name has been nominated twice for the Nobel Prize and once for the Fields Medal. If all goes well, I might get one of these prizes within a decade or two. My Vedic studies and analysis of the scriptures helped me understand cutting-edge technologies. My algorithms form the backbone of Quantum Computing. Funny you call me stone-age!!”

“After my twelfth standard”, continued Shankar, “I excelled in academics at Berkeley. At twenty-one I finished my Physics Major and Math Minor degree and was admitted into Princeton with a full scholarship for a direct PhD. In just two years I finished the doctoral program and immediately moved to France to join the CERN. I did a lot of ground-breaking research on the God particle, popularly known as Higgs-Boson. My Veda Adhyaynam continued online with Parasurama Sastrigal. On my part, I helped reconstruct his home and also establish a Veda Patasala (school), which is running successfully.”

“You never told us any of these all these years!”, Rekha couldn’t contain her surprise.

“When did you answer my phone calls or emails Amma?”

“Continue”, Sundaram prodded.

“While working at CERN, the Government of India wanted me. I consulted Sastrigal and he told me that in another three years I would become a qualified Yajur Veda ganapadigal (the highest accomplishment in Vedic recitation). But to fully understand the essence and spirit of Vedas, I must move back to India. Since Vedas are my soul, I quit CERN and would be establishing a state-of-the-art laboratory here in Chennai. Throughout I have been in touch with Vasanthi Maami and Ramu Maama. I requested that I stay with them during this visit and they graciously welcomed me. They moved to Kanchipuram five years ago. Maama is teaching Vedas in a patasala there.”

“So, what are your plans?”, Rekha quizzed.

Shankar continued, “I will be leaving for France in the next two days and winding down my work at CERN. I shall leave France in the next two or three weeks. I would lodge at Vasanthi Maami’s home in Kanchipuram on my return to India. I need to go to New Delhi to meet the Minister of Technology and Science and his Secretaries to develop a blueprint for the proposed lab. I will create a separate department on Vedas and Quantum Mechanics. There is so much to be explored and there are so many minds like me pining to do research. Concurrently, I will travel to the Himalayas to meet some men of the highest spiritual merit. I need to relate some of my experiences to them and get their insights. I also need to expand the Veda patasala of both Parasurama Sastrigal and Ramu Maama. In the meantime, I have accepted a series of lecture commitments both on Vedanta and Physics. So, a lot of work is cut out for me here.”

13. Marriage is a dharma, not a drama

“What about your marriage?” Rekha broached that subject again.

Shankar smiled. “Initially I was adamant that I would remain a celibate and take up Sanyasa. When I expressed this desire of mine to Parasurama Sastrigal, he was furious. He said that my role as a grihastha (family man) will take me to higher levels of spirituality and forbade me from taking Sanyasa. He commanded that I marry, beget children, and raise them with love and affection – something that both of you denied me. I should set up a dharmic family and live as an example of how tradition and modernity can be combined. He commanded me to lead a dharmic married life. I was left with no choice but to renounce renunciation.”

“Sastrigal explained to me the concept of the Sanskrit term called ‘Purushartham’, which consists of Dharma, Artha, Kama, and Moksha. He said that it is grahasthashrama dharma (maintaining a family) that helps one attain “Purushartham”. Dharma is the existential righteousness through which we must earn wealth, or ‘Artha’. With the ‘Artha’, one must marry and maintain a loving family with dedication, which is called ‘Kama’. After the family responsibilities are completed, one must focus on spirituality that eventually leads to salvation, i.e., ‘Moksha’. The four stages of a ‘grahastha’ (literally a family man) are brahmacharya (learning and celibacy), ‘grahastashrama’ (getting married according to traditions), ‘Vanaprastha’, which is a temporary retreat from the society, and ‘Sanyasa’, which is coming back to the society as a renunciate and help the society to maintain ‘Dharma’.”

“This trip when I lodged myself in Vasanthi Maami’s home, I happened to see Radha. She is now twenty years old and going to finish her undergraduate. I could see divine radiance – Lakshanam – in her, Amma, and not the kind of vulgar synthetic beauty that you monger around. Radha has immersed herself in traditions. I first spoke to Maama and Maami about my eagerness to marry Radha. Both of them hugged me and gave their ready consent. Then I approached Radha and gently placed my desire for her consideration. She blushed. She told me that she would want to be a homemaker, have many children, and support me in my research and spiritual interests. You may not know that she came first in Tamil Nadu in both tenth and twelfth standard, and is on her way towards becoming a Chartered Accountant. She is extremely brilliant and more than that she even exceeds Vasanthi Maami in devotion, character, and piety.”

“What about us? What about your responsibility to us? Aren’t we still your parents?”, Sundaram had by now fully sobered.

Shankar gently said, “Appa and Amma, you are and will ever be my biological parents. I am committed to you, but not attached. That is why I am here out of deference for our biological connection. Where were you in my life all these days? Appa wanted to abort my fetus. Amma considered me as a burden. I was not even breastfed. For a long time, I was confused about the relationship between me and Sarasamma. Amma, every time a man other than Appa touches you, my heart used to burn. Yet, you were very comfortable to go to any extent with any man. Same with you Appa. Both of you have no culture, scruples, or values. You have been hijacked by the illusory world of money, fame, and so-called social status. Amma, if a situation is created where Sahil-uncle hugs you in a drunken orgy and asks you to leave Appa, I don’t need that social status. If driving a BMW and living in a mansion with no love between the two of you is called a family, I don’t need that family. If Appa, making your wife act in all kinds of movies with all kinds of men just to make money is your way of running a family, I don’t need that family. If wearing revealing dresses even at this age, Amma, is your sign of modernity, damn that modernity. If drinking alcohol is your way of unwinding, Appa, to hell with that! When I had a high fever, Amma, you instructed Sarasamma to take me to the clinic and went to the Rotary Club to do social service for sick children in some hospital. Why? Because actor Pankaj was there. Your picture appeared in the local newspapers along with him. To hell with your social service. You didn’t even have the heart to be by my bedside when I was sick. Appa, when I was struggling to do my math homework in primary school, you went to teach slum children as part of your Lions Club. Why? There was a drinking party after that. Charity begins at home, my dear parents. To hell with your social service. To hell with your awards. To hell with your accolades.

The institution of marriage is very sacred. Just as a woman must be chaste, so should a man. There is no room for anyone else in between the husband and the wife. Not even the children. There are three reasons why people get married:

1. Attraction towards the opposite gender. This is natural. A person who is not attracted to the opposite gender is either extremely rational and renounced or biologically dysfunctional. Marriage regulates this natural attraction and converts this inherent weakness in humans into a profound strength. This carnal attraction between a man and a woman only lasts for a very short time. That is why there is a saying, ‘மோகம் முப்பது நாள். ஆசை அறுபது நாள்,’ i.e., ‘Lust for the spouse after marriage lasts only for thirty days and the desire thereof lasts for sixty days.’ Even if the spouse is very attractive, seeing the same person day after day would eventually relegate itself to boredom. This is when marriage must move to the next level of responsibility.

2. Begetting progeny. Raising good children is a great contribution to society. Children don’t follow what you say but take examples from what you do. Luckily for me, I didn’t!

3. Safeguarding the dharma. Dharma protects the one who protects it. A husband and wife must adhere to the dharma. The tightness of a husband-and-wife relationship does not lie in perfection. It lies in understanding, appreciating, and laughing over each other’s imperfections. 

Marriage is not a curtailment of freedom and your so-called freedom must not degenerate into a passport for profanity. At a cursory level, the mundane tastes could differ. They might like different food, books, or music. These are all superficial. But they must be two distinct bodies with one soul. There must be a non-negotiable and natural convergence of ideals. They should see oneness between them in the highest levels of principles and ideals. The tightness between them must be inexplicable and divine.

Lord Shri Ardhanarishwar, the conjoined cosmic couple, demonstrates that the role of man and woman is complimentary and not competitive. The deity not only shows the uniqueness of both genders but also their inextricable nature to co-exist. It symbolises that one needs the other for completeness. It also reinforces that the husband and wife are two distinct bodies with one single soul. It demonstrates the notion of two loving entities ready to sacrifice one-half of their own being to accommodate the better half. It teaches that the husband and wife must function as a conjoined entity and the differences are only superficial. Finally, it portrays the highest form of a harmonious relationship. The love for the spouse must equal self-love.

The deity typifies that the masculine is matter and the feminine is energy. For the world to function, both are essential.

If marital discord or ego issues exist, both spouses must worship Shri Ardhanarishwar together and understand the symbology above. This will heal their differences and make them live for each other. Just as we all are, by nature, self-forgiving, so will we unconditionally accept our spouse.

Now, look at you two! Look at the many people you have let inside your marriage and that too all useless and third-rated folks! 

14. The power of sacrifice and the need to look beyond oneself

The Sanyasa Suktham of Mahanarayanopanishad (or Kaivalyopanishad?) says:

‘Na Karmana, Na Prajaya, Dhane na, thyagenyke amrutatva maanashu’.

‘It is neither by your duty, nor by begetting progeny, nor wealth, but only by sacrifice could one attain immortality’.

Only when you sacrifice can you create something that outlasts your mortal existence. How much have you sacrificed for each other? Nothing. You have your life. He has his life. What did you say Amma, “Your Appa and I live our own independent lives”? Shameful and pathetic. Instead of living for each other, you say you have your ways and don’t interfere with each other’s lives. You don’t know the difference between interactions and interference. Independence is not a substitute for interdependence in a relationship. You think that any interaction between yourselves is an interference. What a shameful married life! The husband and wife must be, I repeat, two bodies and one soul. Ponder over this, my parents! Marriage does not destroy individuality. It rather gives a divine meaning to individuality. The husband’s role can never be played by the wife or the other way. It is a very complementary relationship. You have, unfortunately, degenerated such a holy relationship into a competitive one. Marriage is not a loss of freedom. It is the togetherness that leads to a very special kind of freedom. Husband and wife are dharmically conjoined entities.

A brahmachari must run away from women like from a wild plague. When he gets married, other than his wedded wife, he must regard every other woman as a mother, a sister, or a daughter. But such a notion must not be intended to gain access to other women, but rather define a decent distance. A man must draw impenetrable boundaries around himself. Likewise, a woman must be a fire that keeps every other man at a distance, except for her husband. Your so-called individuality in the guise of modernity has become a license to sin. He who approaches another woman with a wrong intent is a sinner and she who conducts herself by extending such shameful invitations is a bigger sinner.

And Amma, what did you just say a while ago? You quoted the Sanskrit verse, “maatru devo bhava”. Do you know where it comes from? It comes in Shikshavalli of the Taittriya Upanishad. I am doing Veda adyayanam and your statement is like the devil quoting scriptures. Like I already mentioned, ‘Dharmo rakshati rakshita – அறத்தைக் காப்பவனைக் காக்குமாம் அறம். Dharma protects the one who protects it.’ Don’t quote scriptures narrowly and selectively for your vested interests. I won’t buy into your logic of convenience. Having lived an adharmic life throughout, suddenly you have unleashed the only fragment of Sanskrit that you are familiar with, to defend your case. Doesn’t fly with me Amma. “Yesya smarana maatrena, janma samsara bandanaath”. The moment you surrender sincerely to the Lord, all your past karma is annihilated. That is your only redemption. And Appa, you just said that I am getting relegated to Stone Age. If making tons of money, rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty, and partying is your definition of modernity, sorry! I am not in that league. I deal with simple but extremely brilliant people across the world. These people have dedicated themselves fully to knowledge and constantly expand the boundaries of technology. I belong there and don’t agree with your definition of modernity. The ones I move with are perched on the farthest frontiers of human intelligence, not your half-baked cunning and shameless company of so-called celebrities. You move with people with a lot of money and fame, and I move with low-profiled people with a lot of intellectual accomplishments. See, my parents, there is a huge difference between our outlook on life. I could have easily become a loser and a victim of circumstances. Thanks to my spiritual sadhana, I tackled every challenge life placed before me thanks to God’s grace and my efforts. You played no role in my development. I learned to understand human emotions without becoming emotional. I rose above my circumstances to make myself what I am today.

What did you say Amma? Did you say that your attire increased your gym membership? Your fair skin, build, and sharp features are just a genetic lottery and nothing to gloat about. If you try to peddle your skin-deep, vulgar, and immodest beauty to men and make them pine for your attention, that to me is just like inviting flies to swarm around human faeces. Character is the real beauty and you seem to be wanting in that department. You have traded tradition for thrill and hypothecated fulfilment for gratification.

What did you say Amma? Life did not give any meaning to you? What a pity! Life offers no meaning to anyone. Life is meaningless on its own. We need to give our lives a meaning. Amma, you must offer your life a purpose. We have the potential to offer meaning to our lives every single moment and under every single circumstance – good, bad, or otherwise. We might not have inherited heaven, but we have the unmatched ability to create heaven wherever we are. Even if everything is taken away from us, there is one last thing that can never be taken away from us under any circumstance – the choice and freedom of action. Attitude is a choice. Character is a choice. I retain the freedom to choose my attitude.

You boasted about your logical abilities. Funny! Logic is just a weak tool that is based merely on intellect. It can perhaps win business for you, but not mental peace. Clever ways to win an argument are no indication of wisdom. That is why logic is not given great importance in our dharma. Whom and what are we trying to convince? Your logic is subordinate to grand realisations propounded by the Vedas, Smritis, Dharma Sastras, Itihaasa-Puranas, family traditions and guidance of the wise and learned. Even our conscience is a weak tool since our mind can easily be conjured by our prejudices. Don’t talk about logic to me!

A child is very possessive about his or her parents and if that is not understood, then to hell with your parenthood. If your business needs and money-making pursuits sideline a tender child, may your business go to dogs. Now you say that I am the only bridge between you and Appa. My birth was just an undesired biological accident. 

A home must be a place of love. Family comes first. Modesty, humility, simplicity, and living according to Sastras are the cornerstones of life, and to me, the only way for life. You have been born into a Brahmin family with unlimited potential for spiritual development. Yet! You want me to marry a Salma or a Rita, just because it would increase your net worth and social status. To hell with you two. Whiskey, Pork chops, moving with all kinds of men and women with no regard for gender decency. Manusmriti says that the respectable distance between two persons of the same gender – and let me repeat ‘same gender’ – is around two feet. Personal space is respected. Both of you haven’t given me a single hug or kiss, but many times Amma I have seen grown-up men hugging you in the name of modernity. These are crooks masquerading immodesty as modernity. If modernity is used as a camouflage for licentiousness, I will happily consign myself to what you define as the Stone Age. All your current vanities are ephemeral. Amma, you will grow old and one day lose your beauty. Appa, you will also grow old and become infirm. Trust me there would be no Sahil uncle or Sarah aunty at that time. They would have moved on. Men prey on your beauty Amma and you seem to enjoy that adulation. You are shameless to the core. We need acquaintances that touch our soul and not our body.

We will all die one day. Our beauty will bite the dust. Our fame will not be of help. Our relatives and friends will not accompany us in death. We came alone into this world and we will leave alone. All this drama is in between, in a short life that is like a bubble waiting to burst. Why all this artificiality? Why can’t we just be ourselves? I agree that we need some wealth to survive in this material world. But relentlessly chasing and accumulating it is pointless. We must possess our possessions. Not the other way around. You two seem to be obsessed with things in life that I would look at with derision and condescension. Are you going to take your money with you when you die? At least if your pursuits make you happy, I can see the point. But you two are as hollow and always under pressure as an overblown balloon waiting to burst! Is it all worthwhile? Who are you trying to impress and what is the purpose of your life? Enlightened self-interest is not selfishness. Flaunting is a sign of insecurity and fear. Fame, power, position, money…! Unsatiated ambition for all these has hijacked your spiritual aspiration. You have lost your true identity and are desperately searching for it through external validations. You are trying to identify yourself with everything around you – power, position, fame and money. You are not trying to find ‘the you’ within yourself. While your net worth is high, your self-worth is low. Dispassion leads to courage which in turn leads to real freedom. Sainthood is when being good is no longer a struggle. A businessman is nice for a purpose but a saint is nice without a purpose. Self-abidance doesn’t seek external validations or endorsements. Self-realisation is a tranquil resignation within oneself. Strive for that real freedom. Think hard.

Without knowing it was me, you called me an anna-kavadi when you entered the house – your house. Realise Amma that a real Sanyasi enjoys his poverty. Poverty has nothing to do with dignity just as being wealthy has nothing to do with decency. One could be poor and yet dignified. One could be wealthy and still indecent. These are mutually exclusive. To respect a person solely based on wealth is foolishness.

I was lucky to get a Vasanthi Maami, Ramu Maama, Parasurama Sastrigal, and a few other saatvic people in my life. I am what I had chosen to make out of myself. My choices are enlightened and bear higher goals. You two won’t change and neither will I. However, having been born to you, if ever you would want to be with me, you are welcome to stay with me, but on my terms – dharmic. Character to me is greater than life. You two are living a life of questionable character. However, having birthed me, let me offer my Namaskarams (prostrations) to you. Don’t expect me to come anymore into this house. This house bears only sour memories for me. My life is one of greatness with a noble purpose behind every step.”

“Goodbye.”

15. Start of an inward journey 

Shankar turned around to step out.

Rekha and Sundaram were in tears, “Son, at least allow our driver to drop you in Kanchipuram in our car. At least hug us before you go. We beg you.”

Shankar stared at both Rekha and Sundaram hard for one full minute with an intensity that was sharp and penetrating. “Amma, I will not allow you to hug me with the hands that had hugged and touched all and sundry men. If you want to hug someone, please call Sahil-uncle or actor Pankaj. They seem to like your hugs. Appa, same for you. I cannot touch someone like you, who though born as a Brahmin, consumes alcohol, and meat. Sarah-aunty might welcome your hugs, not me. You two have scanty regard for our culture and values.”

“I have just booked an auto rickshaw to take me to the Koyambedu bus stand. I will take a bus from there to Kanchipuram. Vasanthi Maami has made my favourite Ven Pongal and gotsu. Additionally, I have to do my evening anushtanams in time.”

Not waiting for another word, Shankar walked out of the house without even turning back. His broad shoulders and majestic stride exuded confidence and dignity [** see footnote].

Rekha and Sundaram stood speechless, copious tears flowing down their cheeks. Involuntarily they moved closer to each other and grasped each other’s hands. The grasp was firm. For the first time, they experienced comfort in each other’s company. Shankar glanced out of the autorickshaw and saw this. He showed a thumbs-up, waved his hands and the vehicle took off.

Rekha and Sundaram were standing still, still holding each other’s hands for several minutes without even blinking their eyes. Tears were flowing in torrents. It wasn’t mere tears that they were shedding. Along with every tear drop they were liquidating their Karma. Yes! It was a day of reckoning for them. They found solace in each other. Something which they have never felt before.

As soon as the autorickshaw started, Shankar called Parasurama Sastrigal on his mobile.

“Maama, this is Shankar. Namaskarams.”, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“What Shankar! From your laughter, I can understand that your mission has been successful.”

“Total success Maama. Appa and Amma are holding hands and crying. Their inward journey has begun! Their transformation has started. It is only a matter of time now.”

“I also felt the same way my child when I was doing my pooja today. Goddess Ambal’s fullest grace has descended on your parents, thanks to your steadfast austerities, devotion, and sadhana. Have a nice trip to Paris. We have a lot to do here.”

“Sure Maama. See you soon. Namaskarams.”

16. Realization

The first shloka of Ishavasya Upanishad goes as follows:

īśā vāsyam idaṃ sarvaṃ yat kiñca jagatyāṃ jagat |

tena tyaktena bhuñjīthā mā gṛdhaḥ kasya sviddhanam ||

‘Everything in this universe is the creation of the Lord and belongs to Him, and so don’t covet wealth. However, enjoy His creation without clinging on (or getting attached) to it.’

Attach yourself to the creator, not His creations. Enjoy the creations with sincere cognisance of the grandeur of the creator. 

Still holding their hands, Rekha and Sundaram walked into their living room. They looked at each other with overflowing love and nonplussed affection for several minutes. Both opened their wardrobes and pulled all their Western outfits into a pile. They took the pile to their backyard and made a bonfire of it. Sundaram flung his Ray-Ban Aviator into the fire. The Gucci coolers were also consumed by the raging conflagration. The vulgar picture of our goddess drawn by MF Hussein happily found its way into the flames. One by one their possessions of vanity went into the fire – swaahaah – and along with it their karma. Both started to giggle as they were in each other’s arms, cosying in the warmth of the fire. They felt like two teenagers; in a completely soulful embrace.

“I need to buy some new clothes,” said Sundaram.

“Me too,” added Rekha.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” asked Sundaram.

“Exactly my dearest.” Rekha planted a gentle kiss on Sundaram’s cheeks.

“Chee…” protested Sundaram with feigned modesty, “We are two grown-ups”.

“Kissing my husband in my fundamental right”, chuckled Rekha as she snuggled up to Sundaram, “Age is just a number,” she declared.

“Then do it once more. Yup! Never too old for some spousal romance,” Sundaram lovingly tickled Rekha as he locked his eyes with hers. 

“No tickling please,” Rekha squiggled like a worm, pushed him, and tried tickling him back, guffawing like crazy.

Both laughed heartily for the first time in their life. They felt light and completely at ease with each other. They felt truly connected.

17. Transformation

Two weeks later, Shankar received a call.

“Shankar, it is me, your Appa here. When are you leaving France?”

“In ten days, Appa. Giving finishing touches to a technical report and also winding down.”

“Dei Shankara, did you see the WhatsApp picture of Amma and myself I sent two days ago? I expected at least a response from you.”

Shankar started to laugh. “I was about to respond today, Appa. You look wonderful in the ‘panchakacham’ (Brahmanical way of wearing a dhoti) and Amma is gorgeous in her ‘madisaaru’ (Brahmanical way of wearing a saree)”. Amma’s lakshanam (ethereal beauty) is bewitching. Amma looks like the sakshaat Ambal that I worship every moment. I couldn’t take my eyes off my Amma. She is a blessing to our family.

“So, you now pronounce that the curse has been removed," chuckled Sundaram. "Henceforth this will be our only attire daa Shankara.” 

“Appa, I have laminated the picture of you two standing next to each other in our traditional attire and have started doing pooja to it.”

“Maatru devo bhava,” smiled Sundaram.

“…and Pitru devo bhava,” completed Shankar.

Both laughed.

“I have started doing Thrikala Sandhyavandanam. Struggling with the mantras.” Sundaram laughed.

“Don’t worry Appa, I will teach you online from here until I am back home in Chennai.”

“And thereafter…”, joked Sundaram.

“You and Amma will have to decide.”

“We have decided my darling. Amma and I exactly know what to do. We are winding up our business and monetising the proceeds. Amma has learned to make delicious Ven Pongal and gotsu. We would move in with you Shankar. You need to eat your Amma’s cooking. I never knew she could cook so well. She is eagerly waiting to see you so that she can feed you with her own hands. Your Amma is super excited to move with you into the government quarters.”

“What about you?”

“Me! Well, for me, your mother is everything. Where she is, there I am! The astrologer was right – our horoscopes match perfectly.”

Both laugh!

“What do you plan to do with all the money, Appa?”

“Well, I have a prodigal son who spends all his money on Veda Patasala and spiritual activities. We will keep some bare minimum for ourselves and give the rest to him to splurge and thereby create meaning for our lives. Maybe, it is our way of creating a heaven around us. We would all die one day and take nothing with us. Let our wealth be put to good use while we are still here on earth! Amma and I want to enjoy some real freedom. Your Amma and I are moving to the third purpose of marriage – dharma. Parents don't follow what their children say, they follow what their children do!” 

“You are stealing my words Appa, and along with those, my heart.”

They laugh again.

“What about Sarasamma?”

“Oh! She wants to settle in Thiruvannamalai. We have taken care of her well. She will visit us from time to time. She is your Amma’s cooking teacher now! Of late, we are seeing her smile more. She is becoming talkative. She even scolded your mother yesterday when she saw that the cashews were a bit over-roasted.”

“The government accommodation they would give me is pretty decent. It must be sufficient for us.”

“Don’t worry daa Chellam (my love). Let us spread a big bedsheet in the living room. Amma will sleep on one side, me on the other side and you will sleep right between us. Your Amma will wrap her arm around you; until your marriage of course (loud laughter from both). By the way, we went to Kanchipuram and met Radha. Amazing girl. I am not sure about you, but we are the luckiest to have her as our daughter-in-law. Amma and I are going to immerse ourselves in spiritual sadhana from now on. Ramu Maama and Vasanthi Maami are guiding us.”

“Can I talk to Amma for a moment?”

“Sorry daa. She will not get up until her prayers get over – two hours non-stop. She just went inside the pooja room. To be on the safer side, better call us after three hours.”

“I am so happy Appa. Love you and Amma so much. Love you, Appa. Love you lots.”

“’Yesya smarana maatrena, janma samsara bandanaath.’ You only told Shankara that it is never too late to change. Your Amma and I have completely and unconditionally surrendered to the Lord.”

Both of them laughed.

Shankar called Parasurama Sastrigal and narrated the entire conversation between him and his father. Sastrigal listened patiently and said, “Every word you told them is deeply etched in their head. The spirit of what you said is now engrained in their heart. They will never forget your words. But understand that your parents did not change because of your words Shankar. They transformed because of your sincere prayers, austerities, and powerful penance. From now on, there is no going back for them. They are on a spiritual fast track. God bless you, my child!”

When the Lord can transform a dacoit Ratnakara into Sage Valmiki, why not a Rekha and a Sundaram? With Ambal’s grace, anything is possible. All we need to do is pray to Her with tears in our eyes. She is our universal mother.

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Ps.: As with all my other writings, I wrote this one too with the same amount of levity and laughter.

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Footnote [**]:

The original ending was this –

‘Rekha and Sundaram stood speechless, tears flowing down their cheeks. Let us hope they become wiser as they age and rejoin their illustrious son for good, as a refined couple. I am sure Shankar would willingly forgive and accept his parents if he sees a real change in them. It is now up to Rekha and Sundaram to introspect. It is never too late to reform and transform. Let us hope for the best.’

I changed the ending to endorse the scriptural injunction that transformation need not always be gradual. It is gradual for most of us through effort and devotion. But there are instances where the transformation could be sudden also, as in the case of Bhagawan Shri Ramana Maharshi! The Ashtavakra Gita also emphasises that a person without realisation can achieve brahma jnana in a remarkably brief moment, akin to the time it takes to place their left foot into a horse's stirrup, swing up over the saddle, and have their right foot reach the other stirrup.

Realisation is transformational and time-invariant.

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ॐ त्र्यम्बकं यजामहे सुगन्धिं पुष्टिवर्धनम् ।

उर्वारुकमिव बन्धनान् मृत्योर्मुक्षीय मामृतात् ॥

Om Try-Ambakam Yajaamahe Sugandhim Pusstti-Vardhanam

Urvaarukam-Iva Bandhanaan Mrtyor-Mukssiiya Maa-[A]mrtaat ||

"We sacrifice to Tryambaka the fragrant, increaser of prosperity.

Like a cucumber from its stem, might I be freed from death, not from deathlessness." 

(Wikipedia)

(c) Dr. M Sathya Prasad