Ganga Bhavani

Ganga Bhavani The Brahma Purana As per the Brahma Purana, when the evil king Vena forsook the Vedas and proclaimed that he was the only creator of dharma, he broke all the limits of righteousness, and was soon annihilated. Sage Kapila then advised the rishis to rub Vena’s thigh, from which emerged a dwarf named Nishad who carried within him all that was evil about Vena. The rishis then rubbed his right hand and from there emerged Prithu, who made the earth productive once again. Sage Kapila and the rishis thereafter travelled to Kapilasangama, a holy place at the confluence of the Kapila, Kaveri and Spatika rivers. The Brahma Purana also mentions Kapila in the context of King Sagara’s 60,000 sons who while tracing their Ashvamedha horse, disturbed Lord Vishnu who was sleeping in the shape of Sage Kapila. The Lord woke up, and through the dazzling brilliance in his eyes burnt all but four of Sagara’s sons to ashes. 30 January, 1948 A thick blanket of fog had enveloped Delhi, the capital city of India, accompanied as it was by the clag of communal fervour across the nation. The weather was frosty and the denizens in the capital of the new nation were homed, snuggled in their blankets to stave-off the bitter cold. Ganga, the hostess at 5, Ferozeshah Road in Luytens’ Delhi was awake sharp at five in the morning. She replaced her customary walk in the garden by pacing the spic and span verandah, enjoying the peace and tranquillity, as she uttered the name of Lord Narayana with devotion. This was her quotidian routine whether at Bapatla, Madras or Delhi. Through glass-paned windows she could see her father-in-law and husband walking towards where she was. It was their turn to walk, between 6 a.m. and 7a.m. as they animatedly discussed the state of Madras Presidency and the state of the nation. The father and son duo animatedly confabulated on family matters. Two names constantly figured. One was Bhavani and the other Vasu – siblings – and fondly nurtured by the loving grandfather. Prior to India’s Independence, the Central Legislature consisted of two Houses - the Legislative Assembly and the Council of States. Once India gained independence on the momentous day of August 15, 1947, these two Houses were replaced by a single House, the Constituent Assembly of India. The Legislative Assembly ceased to exist at midnight of 1415 August, 1947 under Section 8 of the Indian Independence Act, 1947. Ganga’s father-in-law, Pantulu Rama Sarma, a noted lawyer, pioneer of cooperative banking and instrumental in establishing the insurance movement in India was a prominent Congressman from the Madras Presidency. There were two symbolic figurines of lions which guarded his alcazar – the palatial bungalow at Farhat Bagh, in Mylapore, Madras. As one entered the plenteous complex, none could miss the prominent name-plate Pantulu Rama Sarma BA LLB, Vakil. A similar name-plate greeted visitors at 5, Ferozeshah Road. The estimable lawyer had developed a peculiar habit of touching the name-plate each time he left the house or returned from outside, be it in Delhi or in Madras. He was fortuitous to accompany the Mahatma to attend the Second Round Table conference in London. The Mahatma who was exceedingly sharp-witted had observed this strange practice of Pantulu Rama Sarma and in light banter mentioned, “Why do you not add Vakil to your already longish name,” and guffawed. “Maybe I too should call myself as Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi Vakil.” By this “naamakarna” I would be called Vakil and will be spared of the sobriquets of Mahatma and Bapu. A cross I dread to bear every moment of my life when I see Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs indulging in frenzied bloodletting and macabre mayhem,” Gandhiji would say with seriousness and sincerity. “Bapu, dear Mahatma once you are rechristened as Vakil, scores of Congressmen would add the epithet to their names. Patel Garu, Nehru Garu among others. It would be easier for them to be called Vakil rather than live up to the titles of Bapu or Mahatma,” Pantulu Rama Sarma said. The Mahatma savoured the cup of tea and added, “I wonder what my dear friends Jinnah and Churchill would say.” “You will not be called the half-naked fakir at least,” Pantulu Rama Sarma added. “That is true, but they fear the honorific Mahatma more than they would Vakil,” the Indian statesman conjectured. “So let us drop Vakil for the moment,” Gandhiji chuckled with a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed to have time for everyone, everything and his uptake of personal details from national and international affairs was monumental. Pantulu Rama Sarma was a member of the Legislative Assembly representing Madras. Thus, the highbrow politician was allotted the massive bungalow. His son and his daughter-in-law, Ganga were presently residing with him. The patriarch’s wife Kamallama found the climate of Delhi excruciating, the winters particularly intolerable. She invariably migrated back to the warmer and more salubrious climes of Madras, leaving Ganga to be the hostess of the house. Ganga and Venkata Sarma’s oldest child, Bhavani, who was now barely ten, along with two other siblings and two foster siblings was being brought up at Farhat Bagh in Madras. Descent of Ganges to Earth, Thousands of Years Ago As per Hindu mythology it is widely believed that after Bhagirath became the ruler of the Sagara Dynasty and learnt of the devastating end of his forefathers, he regretfully made over his kingly duties to his minister and went to practice austerities in the Himalayas. On the sagacious advice of his Guru Trithala, he did tapas for a thousand years (as per divine timelines) to gratify Ganga and to relieve his 60,000 great-uncles from the curse of Sage Kapila. Ganga forewarned Bhagiratha that if she were to descend from the heavens to earth, the velocity of her fall would be gruelling. Thus, she advised Bhagirath to propitiate the black-haired, blue-throated god Shiva, as no one except him would be able to control her descent. Bhagirath then performed severe penance to please Lord Shiva. A pleased Shiva granted him the boon, which eventually led to the descent of Goddess Ganga to Earth in the form of the Ganges, filling the sea and drunk up by Sage Jahnu. 30 January, 1948 On January 13, 1948, Mahatma Gandhi ultimately announced his fast unto death. This was Gandhi’s ultimate fast in public life. When the Mahatma was grilled by prying media corps during his prayer meeting at Birla Bhavan a few days later, as to why he was undertaking this fast, Gandhi retorted, “What if it was not difficult for a crowd to make an organised and determined attempt to take forcible possession of Muslim houses?” “The disturbance was such that the military had to reluctantly resort to tear-gas and even to a little shooting if only in the air, before the crowd dispersed. It would have been foolish for me to wait till the last Muslim had been turned out of Delhi by subtle undemonstrative methods.” “I would describe it as killing by inches,” the apostle of peace added. As crimson red sun rose in the azure skies of Delhi, the ravenous Pantulu duo of Rama Sarma and son Venkata Sarma gorged on idlis and vadas, accompanied by tangy sambar. This was washed down by hot filter coffee which was prepared by Ganga meticulously. Senior Pantulugaru’s day was made or unmade depending on the quality of filter coffee. He had only two cups in a day- one with breakfast and the other sharp at four in the evening, after his siesta. “Bhavani would be eagerly waiting to see you both. She is a priceless girl. She is Narayana’s gift to the Pantulu family and this world. Mark my words, she will shine like a shimmering star,” the father mentioned to his son. “Our spiritual mentor Swami Sivananda in his clairvoyant and magical moments at Rishikesh made certain extraordinary prophecies which he swore me not to share. Thus, I cannot delve into the fine print,” Pantalu Rama Sarma revealed. The younger couple were taken aback. They were aware of the remarkable quality of compassion in Bhavani. At the tender age of ten, she could separate chaff from the grain. She was whip smart for her age and chaperoned her siblings. Even at her tender age, she was inclined more towards spiritualism and questioned every ritual her mother Ganga and grandmother Kamallama performed. “Her favourite deities are Anjaneya and Lord Krishna,” Ganga was to tell her father -in-law. But Mavagaru what more did Swamiji reveal about Bhavani?” “I cannot breach the implicit trust, Swami Garu invested in me. Such individuals are blessed with siddhis and the perspicacious predictions may diminish through unwarranted disclosure. But as per Swamiji, Bhavani would be known for her seva to humanity and spiritualism. She will have a legion of followers who will always cherish her memories fondly,” the patriarch added. Wishing to change the subject of discussion, Venkata Sarma slipped in, “Nannagaru, our train is at four-thirty today. We will not be able to attend the satsang this evening,” “Amma will be here in a few days’ time. Ganga has made all arrangements for until then. Your presence is required for the sake of the nation at Delhi. Mahatma garu requires all his lieutenants at this crucial juncture as the monster of communalism is swallowing the nation,” Venkata Sarma continued. The senior Pantulu gestured in agreement and began poring over the day’s newspapers. “Do not be overly concerned about me. There are several Congressmen to take care of my needs. Further our family is always blessed by Swami Sivananda.” Double Whammy Venkata Sarma and Ganga boarded the train well in time. It was a long, two-day journey, so they quickly settled down. As they made themselves comfortable, quite suddenly without any warning, the train came to a screeching halt. As they wondered about a possible reason for this unusual occurrence, Venkata Sarma, Ganga and the other passengers were aghast to hear that at 5:17 p.m. that fateful day, Mahatma Gandhi was felled by an assassin’s bullets in Birla House when he was about to address the evening prayer meeting. There was bedlam in the train, as it began chugging again. “It must have been a Muslim,” someone screamed. At this, a massive hunt began, to trace and hound Muslims on onboard. Venkata Sarma and Ganga tried to assuage the emotive feelings of a distraught crowd. News slowly filtered in that the assassin was in fact a twice-born Hindu. Nathuram Godse had fired from a Beretta 9 mm pistol into Gandhiji’s chest at point-blank range. This news left the crowds numbed and they wept inconsolably. Ganga was absolutely devastated, for she had had a fair number of interactions with the Mahatma. It was past midnight when the train reached Mathura Junction, a good few hour late. The Pantulu couple were surprised to be disturbed by the Station Master. He was there to inform them that Valluri Satyanarayana, Ganga’s father had suffered a fatal stroke at 5:17p.m. that evening. The young woman could barely register the news. She had lost two fathers, one in Delhi and the other at Bapatla at the same time that apocalyptic day. Her spiritual father uttered Hey Ram while her biological father’s last words were Om Namaha Shivaya. Both were highly religious, but catholic personalities. Ganga was too dazed to react ... Madras “Very often, people’s names are misnomers. This is certainly not the case with my mother. Her name Ganga could not have been more apt. After all, the River Ganga came to earth to safeguard and liberate Bhoomi Devi. This is precisely what my mother had been attempting to do all the time,” Bhavani used to remark at each and every endeavour of her mother’s. The spirit of the mythical Ganga seemed to have assumed the form of Ganga and later the mother mentored her daughter Bhavani. Both mother and daughter, in their lives resuscitated the Pantulu and Valluri families. “Was this the singular purpose of their existence?” confabulated Vasu, Bhavani’s brother, with Ravi, her son. Ganga was trained in various rituals by her friend Venubai, who had donned ochre robes. Ganga also acquired spiritual and healing powers at a tender age and she honed her skills through unfailing tapas. In addition, she learnt various nuances of spiritual thinking and practices at the feet of Swami Sivananda of Rishikesh. Her father was devoted to the clairvoyant Swamiji and introduced Ganga to the visionary. Both mother and daughter seemed to be gifted by Mother Divine and chanted the Lalita Sahasranamam, Rudram, Narayaneeyam, and Hanuman Chalisa every day. Their religiosity and spirituality made them robust and brawny and there was a certain aura around them. Several people from the family and friends approached them to resolve various misadventures they faced in their lives. Ganga’s son Vasu was to become an alcoholic and was revived through the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous. But it was the unflinching faith of Ganga and her daughter Bhavani, in a superior power which aided in Vasu’s resuscitation. Ganga’s unflinching faith in Raghavendra Swami, the mystic saint of Mantralaya had enabled her to fortify her mind and assisted in the recovery of her son. Ganga passed on the accumulated skills to her daughter Bhavani. The daughter in turn elevated these by adding on what she learnt by practicing Vipassana meditation, Siddha Healing, Pranic Healing and Sudarshan Kriya breathing techniques. This fortified her body, mind and soul. Rewinding to the Days of Yore Pantulu Rama Sarma had acquired the palatial Farhat Bagh, situated in the Mylapore area, from the Nawab of Arcott. The house was the epicentre of major cultural and political activities. The opulent house was, quite symbolically, equidistant from the famous Santhome Church and the powerful Kapaleeswara Temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva. Kutchery Road in the Mylapore area, reflected the quintessential Madras culture. The area was populated by the priestly class, the twice-born, artistes, politicians, freedom fighters and lawyers. Pantulu Rama Sarma, an advocate by profession became a close associate of Mahatma Gandhi and Chakravarti Rajagopalachari. Affectionately known as Rajaji, the latter was an eminent Congressman, before he broke ranks with the party to establish the Swatantra Party. He mentored Pantulu Rama Sarma and it was on his sagacious advice that the Mahatma included him in the entourage for the second Round Table Conference in London. Once again, it was on the Rajaji’s advice that Pantulu Rama Sarma was made a member of the Legislative Council. Bhavani was proud of her lineage and the estimable family she belonged to. She played the role of a perfect host at 5, Ferozeshah Road at Lutyens’ Delhi, the swanky bungalow once occupied by her grandfather and later occupied by her father Pantulu Venkata Sarma, when he entered the hallowed portals of the Parliament of India, representing the Bapatla parliamentary constituency. Much later, it was her mother Ganga, who occupied the house. The political baton and the very same house were passed on seamlessly. The words dynastic politics entered the lexicon of Bhavani’s vocabulary. Sometime in 2014 “Ravi, answer your phone, for heaven’s sake. It is disturbing everyone in the Ashram,” said Sheela, dressed in her usual impeccable style. Though in an ashram, the fact that she was in the public eye earlier was evident. Her sari was perfectly draped and the little jewellery she wore spoke of outstanding nobility. Sheela was after all, a Padma awardee before making a foray into the spiritual zone. Ravi wished to ignore all calls, especially from his family, in the Ashram but could just not do this now. He wondered whether to put the phone on silent mode, but seeing his maternal uncle, Vasudev Rao’s number he felt it would be prudent to take the call. “This must be something important,” thought Ravi. “Amma has passed away,” Vasu said softly in his baritone voice. And then he hung up, his voice choked and distraught with emotions. Ravi felt gutted. A part of his self-collapsed, like the scaffolding of a building. He was remorseful, distraught and started to sob like a child. Ravi’s heart almost stopped beating. Most people do not take their relatives seriously, especially the older ones. In his case, Ravi took her very, very seriously. Not just because she was his grandmother but because of her incredible persona. “Ravi is it not ironical that we met your grandmother in the hospital on Good Friday and she has passed away on Easter Sunday. Her soul has been resurrected today. She was truly catholic by nature, in spite of her orthodox Andhra-Brahmin upbringing.” “Though ensconced in power and definitely she was no longer petite or sylphlike,” Sheela laughed, “she tumbled out from the rickety mode of transportation but maintained her calm. This was a testimony to her brawny mind (she was always on time) and the fact that she was not an egotist was vindicated by the fact that she was willing to trade her seat from a plush car to a dilapidated rickshaw.” Number five, Ferozeshah Road. The very same house which was once occupied by her father-in-law Pantulu Rama Sarma as member of the Legislative Council and by her husband Pantulu Venkata Sarma when he was a member of the first Lok Sabha. The younger Pantulu went on to become a member of the Union Cabinet later as he matured in political life. The name plate of the house bore the name of Ganga, for she had occupied the very same house as a parliamentarian and subsequently as a cabinet minister, after her husband passed away. Thinking about the Ferozeshah Road house reminded Ravi of the other two houses that his grandmother had been particularly attached to. “There were three properties that Ammamma was particularly attached to. SatyaNilayam, her father’s house in Bapatla, the opulent Farhat Bagh in Madras, which was passed on to her husband and of course 5, Ferozeshah Road, the political and social fortress of the Pantulu family. She guarded each of these alcazars zealously,” Ravi added. These citadels were an integral part of Ganga’s personality and she was certainly attached to them in no small measure. It so happened that both husband and wife had represented the Bapatla constituency of Andhra Pradesh. The danseuse stopped for a while remembering the last visit again, “Your grandmother looked emaciated, forlorn and the spirit to survive seemed to be ebbing. Yet, I thought she would pull through. Look at the travesty of her life! There was no one from the family to attend to her as the angels hovered around the bed.” “Absolutely! Must have been calamitous for the old lady as she lay crippled on the bed,” agreed Ravi, with a hint of guilt straining his voice. Without doubt, Ganga’s life had been brim-full of peaks and valleys. There were innumerable woebegone moments. She scaled the summits of power in the fields of politics, religion, social work and spirituality. “She scored a century in life and I seriously reckoned that she would add some more to her tally,” added Sheela. “Whenever I referred to her as Darren Ganga, she would be so amused!” Ravi mused. There was a lump in his throat and his eyes welled-up with tears. With whom would he share the nuances of cricket, the intricacies of politics and subtleties of religion and spirituality! Unlike a majority of women belonging to her era, these subjects fired her imagination. She secretly harboured to be in the league of Annie Beasant, Sarojini Naidu, Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, Aruna Asif Ali or even Ba. His grandmother remained fervid and messianic about the game of cricket, the game of thrones and religiosity and spiritualism. She was dismayed that religion and spirituality had become dogmatic and divided the hearts of people and nations. Her dalliance with cricket, politics, religion and spirituality continued unabated till she became bedridden with Alzheimer’s. With her mental and physical faculties caving-in she could no longer communicate, becoming a veritable vegetable in the deep winter of her centurion’s life. In hospital Ganga was afflicted with a host of health problems. A perceptible drop in electrolytes made her psychotic and incoherent. “I know all of you are eyeing at my wealth, my political legacy. None of you deserve to inherit the political mantle,” Ganga spoke in a high pitched-voice. Sheela was dismayed upon hearing all this from a lady known for her courage and conviction. Physical and mental fitness were deeply embedded in her grain alongside religiosity and spirituality, like Ardhaneeswara. As she was running downhill on the treadmill in the extreme winter of her life, she abhorred being resuscitated through a ventilator. She made Vasu and Bhavani, the only ones who served her in the final moments of her life, make a solemn promise that they would allow her to cast her mortal self without the assistance of any artificial support. “A test match is to be played for five days. Whether it produces a result or not, there ought not to be a sixth day,” would be her refrain. She never quite appreciated the Duckworth Lewis system used in the T20 or one-day matches. She believed this artificial technique robbed interest in the game and often winners end up losers and the reverse too. Be it the amphitheatre of the Parliament or the vicissitudes of human life, or even dalliance with religiosity and spirituality, all are like a pristine test match. One could win, one could lose or life could end in a stalemate or it could even be an intriguing tie. Ganga during her final moments vividly recalled that ages ago she earned the wrath of a Prime Minister as she had joined a cabal while opposing the extension of the Lower House and was compelled to quit the party, which of course she rejoined. She watched cricket matches with enormous delight and avid interest, be it at Chepauk, Ferozeshah Kotla or Mohali. She ensured that the PIE black and white TV set at eldest daughter Bhavani’s house in Delhi was replaced by a colour TV acquired from an ostentatious store at Singapore. Ganga had accompanied Bhavani and Vasu to Singapore, where they bought the much-awaited colour television. It was a prized purchase as she was keen to watch cricket in colour. Unfortunately, upon their return to Delhi, the capital was rocked by anti-Sikh riots as a popular Prime Minister was felled by an assassin’s bullets. The television set was sealed by the customs department. The normally unruffled and tranquil Ganga flew into a rage and her pique knew no bounds as she perhaps would not be able to watch the India-Pakistan Test and ODI series in colour, something she had been looking forward to with much anticipation. She was seething with anger. Once the macabre situation calmed down, she dexterously pulled a few old political strings to hasten the delivery of the television set. After all, once upon a time she had been a Member of Parliament, representing her place of birth, Bapatla a Minister of State for Railways. As she ruminated over theses tantalising moments in life, Ganga Bhavani breathed her last. In those last, lucid moments her final words, like those of her father Valluri Kanta Rao were, Om Namaha Shivaya. Ganga left for her heavenly abode … her mouth wide open as she gasped for breath and prana finally deserted her. Her memories were cast in stone now. The message of her tragic demise was from one recovered alcoholic to another. Ravi had recovered through the unique rhythmic breathing technique of Sudarshan Kriya as cognated by Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar. Ravi’s eyes turned red and misty. By a strange quirk of fate, he received the message at a holy place. Sometime in 2006 The word courage was eponymous with Bhavani. The brawny and robust lady faced innumerable tumultuous situations in her life and weathered many a storm. The combative lady was a woman of substance and the pivot of the family. But this was a combative situation. Her son was hospitalised for alcoholism and a heart ailment he later suffered. Bhavani kept vigil outside the ICCU and was pacing the floor with apprehension. Bhavani’s mother, Ganga, now with no accoutrements of officious power was alternatively reading Sundara Kanda and Hanuman Chalisa, beseeching the divine intervention to ward-off all malefic forces. Gurudev’s blessings Over the years Bhavani had developed immense courage and faith in the divinity and her Gurudev, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, to overcome misadventures in life as she realised that it is breath which is the unalloyed source of prana. After having had glimpses of the spiritual leader and listening to him speak about Sudarshan Kriya, pranayama and meditation she was certain that only he could resuscitate her son. Astrologers blamed Ravi’s problem and misfortune on planetary configurations and the stars; clairvoyants postulated theories that it was bad fate, bad karma. Science opines that alcoholism is perhaps genetic. Well, some relatives had been alcoholics! The fact of the matter was that he had a severe drinking problem and like all alcoholics was in denial mode. Bn Little did he realise that Ganga reborn to stave-off the curse of Sage Kapila which the family had incurred aeons ago. In the empyrean at Lord Indira’s court, his ancestors in Ganga and Bhavani who were then Gandharvas, had playfully satirized Sage Kapila and thus were cursed to be reborn. Thus, Ganga and Bhavani were reborn to protect Vasu and Ravi. A few days before Bhavani’s birthday, Present Day Meanwhile a lethal virus had afflicted million across the globe and the pestilence did not spare Bhavani and her son. The woman of substance was hospitalised, while her son was grappling with the pestilence in home quarantine. The son sent frantic message to Gurudev, seeking succour. The secretary replied, “Gurudev sends blessings and love.” The son, still suffering, was doing Sudarshan Kriya one morning while still in quarantine, when he had a feeling, his beloved mother had entered Vaikuntham. Right then his bleary-eyed wife informed him, “Attagaru is no more,” to an overwrought Ravi. A few days later, as he performed the last rites, his mother had a peaceful smile of her face as if she were deep in meditation. Ganga received her at the gates of the celestial arena. Mother and daughter hugged and smiled and wept. Bhavani was tied back to the umbilical cord of Ganga and merged into infinity forever ... At a distance was Sage Kapila, who walked up to the duo and blessed Bhavani. “The period of the curse is now over. Once, in the empyrean, Ganga and Bhavani as Gandharvas were in a playful mood. In jest they had disturbed the sleep of Sage Kapila and earned the wrath of the sagacious one. He condemned to be born on earth for the transgression; only four of the Valluri and Pantulu family would have to go through the Karmic cycle. These were Pantulu Rama Sarma, his son Pantulu Venkata Sarma, Vasu and Ravi. Bhavani was married into the Valluri family while Ganga into the Pantulu clan. Thus, the two washed away the misdemeanours committed by the Pantulus and Valluris. Though they were prominent individuals in their respective fields they had to bear the brunt of Karmic cycle. Both Vasu and Ravi became alcoholics and were resuscitated. But there was further cushioning and ballast provided by the fervid prayers of Ganga and Bhavani. The religiosity and spiritualism of the two led to the metamorphosis of Vasu and Ravi. Ganga and Bhavani were also to see two Gandharvas. These were the Pantulus – Rama Sarma and Venkata Sarma. Sage Kapila permitted Ganga and Bhavani to have a brief interaction with Pantulu Rama Sarma. “Daughters this is the secret which was revealed to me by Swami Sivananda.” Stating these incalculable words, he disappeared into deep cogitation. Vasu and Ravi were yet to enter the Zion as their Karmic bonds were still to be completed and merge into infinity. But Ganga and Bhavani had merged into infinity. Both Ganga and Bhavani have been able to snap the Gordian knot of the Karmic cycle,” the sage added.