MARA… MARA… RAMA…. RAMA…
“Tell me who wouldn’t like listening to a good story?” the scholar at the temple appealed.
“And when the story is soothing, relaxes your mind and drifts it into a state of peace, wouldn’t you still opt to listen to it,” he remarked. With great expectations, the spectators moved forward from their seats with rapt attention.
A middle-aged childless couple set out to Kashi. In those days, there was no transportation, advance ticket booking or even VIP darshans. They set out on foot and halted in between in stone mantaps which on those days served as tourist shelters. The Zamindars of those times had made provision for travelers to be accommodated in those shelters. The guiltless couple travelled all the way from south. The journey wasn’t simple. They had taken days to reach a small village in the north.
While they reached a small village, the night had already set in. The darkness had crept in, not allowing them to travel any further. The husband took a prudent decision of staying under an abandoned shelter close to a broken temple. Tiredness had seeped into his physical being and in no time, he was fast asleep.
The chirpy morning woke him up only to find his wife missing. He called out to her, yet received no response. He headed out towards the river, there too she wasn’t found. She had gone missing. He reached the village and enquired with tears in his eyes. A passerby implored, “Sir you appear to be a traveler. Don’t you know that this area is not safe for women? There are many criminals in this region. I am sure, she would have been abducted last night. Take my advice, you better leave at once instead of searching. You will never again find her.”
Yet, without losing any hope, he looked for her everywhere. Time had gone and so had days too. With a heavy heart, he told himself that she may have already left him and begun her journey towards the lotus feet of the lord.
He decided to resume his journey to Kashi, this time not with the view of obtaining Lord’s darshan but to offer last rites to his wife.
After completing the last rites for his wife in Kashi. The gentleman began his journey homeward. Again, he reached the village where he had lost her. He brooded about the loss and how he had missed her for so many months. He was certain that she was no more. As he climbed down the flight of steps towards the river, he saw a woman clad in torn saree running towards him. She clasped his arm and whispered, “let’s leave… Let’s leave….Lets not speak here.”
The gentleman was aghast. His throat had gone dry. But the woman pulled his arm and ran towards the forest. She revealed herself to him. Yet again, he fell short of words. He moved forward to hug her and she gently pushed him away and started weeping.
His prediction had come true. She looked at him and said, “I am not chaste anymore. I was abducted that night and I lost my chastity to a group of hooligans. I am not pure anymore. But I beg you, please do not leave me here in this merciless land. I will head back along with you not as your wife, but as a maid servant. At this point in time, I deserve to be treated that way. But don’t let go of me.”
The husband nodded his head in acceptance and implored, “I am sure there is a curative for this mishap. Let us go to Puri Jagannath and seek the blessings of the Lord. He will certainly be on our side.”
At Puri, the couple overheard a conversation of the priest who was advising a lady to visit Jagannatha Pandit who was very well versed in providing solutions to all sort of sins committed. The couple realized that the lord had answered their query through the priest. They walked towards the abode of Jaganath Pandit.
Just like they had expected, he was young with the illuminance of knowledge radiating on his bright face.
He welcomed them inside and offered water to drink. The woman never lifted her veil and hesitated to even sit beside her husband. The husband confessed to the Pandit about the incident and wept. The great scholar looked at the woman hiding her face and remarked, “this is not even an issue to be worried about. You just have to chant Rama…Rama…Rama… and you will instantly be cleansed of all the misery and will be fresh and pure in your physical being.”
The pandit’s mother shrieked from the kitchen, “Son how can you even demean the Rama Nama this way? One needn’t even chant Rama Rama Rama to attain self-liberation, but, uttering the word ‘Rama’ even once, will cleanse her and she will regain her chastity.
She came running out of her kitchen and lifted the woman.
“Do not touch me,” the wife remarked.
The pandit’s mother laughed and said, “Who said you are not chaste anymore. If you had sinned my lord wouldn’t have led you to my house. You are already cleansed and pure. You may go on to live with your husband, yet again a life of man and wife. Go on now. Don’t have any doubts about yourself. You are very pure,” she declared.
The woman looked at her with perplexity.
The pandit’s mother importuned, “I get that you still doubt my words. Don’t you? It is time to prove to you and to the world the power of Rama Nama. Leave at once to the river bed of Puri temple. Pray ardently to my Rama and with his Nama on your lip, take a dip into the pure waters of Puri. Let me assure you that when you get up, you will get out of the water with the same saree with which you slept beside your husband on the night of abduction. It is only then that you will understand the power of my lord’s name.”
With faith in her heart, the woman and her husband walked to the river. She prayed to Rama and plunged into the water and when she got out, she was thrilled to come out the same way she had been lost. She had regained her purity with just the word Rama adorning her lip.
The scholar concluded thus, “Dear listeners, see what one ‘Rama’ nama can do to you; then imagine what thousand Rama namas can do?
This is what Thyagaraja Bhagavathar did…. Rama Nama…. Isn’t it?!
As the scholar completed his narration, I continued sitting as if I had gone into the trance of Rama Nama. And as I finished penning this, my mind drifted towards silence and stillness.
Dr Anitha Chakravarthy Sriram.
