Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, by Suri Nagamma

Bhagavan ate them, drank some water, went out and came
back, when some monkeys came to the window near his sofa.

Seeing them, Bhagavan asked his attendants to go and bring
some of the savoury preparations, saying, that the monkeys
would relish them very much. The attendants returned
saying that the people in the kitchen refused, saying that
they had not prepared enough savouries to feed the monkeys
also. “Oho! How did we get them then?” said Bhagavan.

“This is ration time,” said a devotee. “What if it is ration
time? When we have rations, why should they (monkeys)
not have rations as well? The problem will be solved if a
ration card is obtained for the monkeys as well. They will eat
these things with greater relish than we. If they do not have
it, why should we have it either? When we are eating, see
how those children (i.e., the monkeys) are looking at us,”
said Bhagavan. Thereupon, they also got their share.

From that time onwards, Bhagavan used to accept things
only after the monkeys’ share were given to them. It seems
there was an earlier practice of taking out their share first
before anything was distributed. The change that had come
about in the interim period disappeared with this reprimand
from Bhagavan. In the past, on festive occasions like Jayanti
and Mahapuja, Bhagavan used to see that some food was taken
out separately, made into balls, placed in a basket and then
taken into Palakothu where he used to sit and personally hand
over the balls one by one with great joy to the monkeys. A
photo was taken of this event at the time of Bhagavan’s
Shashtiabda-purthi festivities in 1939. The radiance on
Bhagavan’s face at that time can be seen and appreciated if
that photo is looked at.

You know what happened one morning in 1946?
Squirrels came on to Bhagavan’s sofa for cashew nuts. The
nuts, which used to be in the tin near Bhagavan, were
exhausted. Groundnuts were given instead. The squirrels
would not eat them and began to express their discontent in
all possible ways. “We don’t have them, my dears. What to
do?” said Bhagavan, as he tried to cajole them. No. They
would not be appeased. They were crawling over the legs
and hands of Bhagavan continuously as a sign of their
displeasure. So Bhagavan asked Krishnaswami to go and
find out if there was any stock of cashew nuts in the
storeroom. Krishnaswami went and brought a few nuts. “Is
that all?” asked Bhagavan. Krishnaswami said that they were
preparing payasam that night and so they could spare only
that much. Bhagavan felt annoyed and said, “I see. Payasam
will not be less tasteful if the cashew nuts are a little less in
quantity than usual. What a pity. These squirrels do not like
anything less and they are worrying me. The storekeepers
have declined to give cashew nuts saying that they will have
to put them into the payasam. Who will be worried if there
are no cashew nuts in the payasam? See how these children
are worrying themselves for want of cashew nuts!” With that,
the cashew nuts which should have gone into payasam, went
into the stomachs of the squirrels and also into the tin by his
side (for future feeding of the squirrels).

The same evening, Dr. Anantanarayana Rao brought
from Madras two visa (about 4.5 kilograms) of cashew nuts,
saying that he had brought them for the squirrels. With a
smile, Bhagavan said addressing Krishnaswami, “Look at
this. They are earning whatever they want. There is no need
to beg of you. These cashew nuts are their property. Keep
them carefully. Note that they should not be given to the
storeroom. Take care.”
One morning in January 1947, at about 9 a.m., Lakshmi
the cow entered the hall hurriedly with her legs, body and
tail full of mud, with blood oozing out of her nose and with a
half-severed rope round her neck. She went straight to the
sofa where Bhagavan sat. The attendants began saying with
some disgust that she had come in with mud on her body.

Bhagavan, however, said with affection, “Let her come. Let
her come. What does it matter how she comes?” Addressing
the cow, he said. “Come, my dear. Please come near.” So
saying he passed his hand over the body lightly, patted her
on the neck and looking at the face and said, “What is this?
Some blood is oozing!” One of the attendants said, “Recently
they had put a rope through her nose.”
“Oho! Is that the reason? That is why she has come
here to complain to me about it. Is it not very painful for
her? Unable to bear the pain, she has come here running
to complain to me without even washing her body. What to
do? Give her some iddli or something,” said Bhagavan,
evincing great solicitude for her welfare. The attendants
gave her some plantains and thus managed to send her
out. I went to the kitchen, brought some iddlies and gave
them to her. She was satisfied and went away to her usual
place.

After all of us returned to the hall and sat down,
Bhagavan remarked, looking at the attendants, “Do not all
of you come to me to relate your troubles? She too has done
the same thing. Why then are you vexed with her for coming
here with mud on her? When we have troubles, do we
consider whether our clothes are all right or our hair is
properly brushed?”
There is no need to mention the love and affection
Bhagavan has towards the peacocks. Not only is he specially
considerate towards mild animals like these, he is equally
considerate towards beings like snakes which are also given
shelter in the Ashram. Not only is this mentioned in his
biography but we ourselves have now and then witnessed
it here. I have already written to you earlier about the tiger
cubs. Recently an incident happened here about snakes.

As the opening ceremony of the Patala Linga Temple
was fixed for the 4th and as several visitors were expected at
the Ashram on that account, and especially the Governor and
his wife, it was felt that the available space would not be
sufficient and so a pandal was put up to the right side of
Bhagavan’s sofa in the Jubilee Hall to accommodate them. A
week earlier, i.e., towards the end of April, Krishnaswami
arranged that the pandal should be used for Veda Parayana
and also for the ladies to sit under. It is after all a new
construction. On all its sides crotons were placed, khus-khus
thatties were tied and water was sprinkled regularly. Hence
the place remained comparatively cool. Some four days after
the pandal was erected I happened to go there in the afternoon
a little earlier than usual. Bhagavan had just gone out and
come back. There was nobody near him. I prostrated before
him and then sat down under the pandal. A big green snake
came through an opening between the crotons on the side of
Bhagavan’s sofa, glided along some distance, got up on to the
roof of the pandal and settled down comfortably there. I was
not frightened in any way and so kept quiet looking at the
snake and at Bhagavan. He noticed my feelings and said with
a smile, “He has come here because it is cool.” I said, “Since
how long could he have been here?” Bhagavan replied, “He
came here about the same time as I returned after the midday
meal. He has been going around the pandal and also the
crotons. He has been coming here like this for the last three
days and going away around 2.30 p.m.”
I said, “He must be a great soul. He must have come
here in this shape to serve Bhagavan when he is alone.” As I
was saying this, Krishnaswami came in.

Krishnaswami: “I do not know what to do. He is coming
here every day. Bhagavan says we should not chase him away.”
Bhagavan: “What if he comes? What harm has he done
to us?”
Krishnaswami: “He has not done anything to us. But
this is a place to which several people come. Is it not risky?”
Bhagavan: “But he goes away at 2.30 p.m., doesn’t he?”
Krishnaswami: “It is all right now, but during festival
days people come in at all times.”
Bhagavan: “Oho! That is your fear!” So saying,
Bhagavan looked at the snake and at me. I too began
looking at the snake and at Bhagavan, and I said, “He must
have come here to serve Bhagavan. But if he comes with
this cover (meaning the body), there is likely to be some
trouble to him from the people in general and from him to
the general public.”
Bhagavan: “It might be so.”
Bhagavan thereupon looked at the snake for a while,
steadfastly and graciously. Immediately after that the snake,
which was remaining still all the time we were discussing,
got down the pandal rapidly, went into the flower garden
and disappeared. There was no knowing what message he
received when Bhagavan gazed at him. The clock struck
the half-hour. Devotees began coming in rows and
prostrated before Bhagavan. Bhagavan’s look thus got
diverted and he came back to his normal state. The snake
was never seen afterwards.

There are ever so many incidents to show that
Bhagavan’s abode is a place of safe resort not only for the
weaker sex and the poor but also for dumb animals at all
times. I shall write to you in another letter some more
incidents of this nature.