Gombhiranathji & Divine Heirlooms

May, 1996. Barbil, Orissa.

It was a rain soaked evening unlike any other. Who knew such torrential rains were possible in the height of summer? It has rained for 16 straight days with no respite.

“I want a husband like Lord Shiva”, said my thamma (grandmother). A paan (betel leaf) was in the midst of making its way to her lips.

“I thought you wanted the same husband for all eternity”, quipped my mother.

“No! There are nine lives. One can try nine husbands before settling on the one for perpetuity”, thamma retorted.

“Why not Lord Krishna?”, asked my mother.

“Too many lovers, too many wives”, replied thamma after some afterthought.

The fight for predominance between Lord Shiva and Lord Krishna in Indian Hindu society is as old as time itself. It was, therefore, no surprise that it left a legacy in my family also.

Thamma came into this family as a young girl with a heart filled with devotion for Lord Shiva. After all, which virgin girl does not fast for a good husband in his honour? Therefore, it was a rude awakening when the husband blessed by Lord Shiva turned out to be decidedly in favour of Lord Krishna. So, the two Lords had an uncomfortable truce for a few months post marriage. However, the matter was settled when boro thamma (great grandmother) came down decidedly against Lord Shiva. After all, mother-in-law trumps divinity!

Unfortunately for my grandmother, the next generation Dasgupta daughter-in-laws and granddaughters were too spiritually disinclined to be drawn into such divine controversies. Thamma, therefore, went about with a heavy heart as the last guardian of not just Lord Krishna but also family guru Gombhiranathji.

Gombhiranathji was a guru of great import. He finds mention in the authoritative book Bharat-er Sadhok (India’s Saints). His association with our family came about as a result of a rather dramatic event. Boro dadu (great grandfather) had missed boarding the train at one of the stations on the way to Banaras. In a last ditch attempt to catch the train he jumped on to the foot board of the train compartment. But holding on to the iron bars of the running train proved to be too much of a strain. Just as he was about to slip off, he called Gombhiranathji who came and held on to the unconscious boro dadu untill he reached the safety of the next station.

Gombhiranathji’s exulted powers to mediation and transcendence did not end here. He was strong on spiritual turf wars as well and did not take intrusions lightly. The story goes that one of his disciples was secretly enamoured by a different guru and went on to become his disciple without renouncing the discipline of Gombhiranathji. To add fuel to the fire, this disciple started meditating about his new guru in the ashram of Gombhiranathji. As the meditation proceeded, the new guru appeared before the disciple. But lo and behold, Gombhiranathji also appeared to question such unwarranted intrusions on his turf. But the new guru explained the situation and both gurus then chastened the errant disciple.

Therefore, devotion to Gombhiranathji meant total and absolute surrender. Any sneaky stuff would not only, not go, unnoticed but would be severely dealt with. Therefore, it was a huge shock when thamma by a series of unexpected events become a disciple of Shri Shri Gauri Ma. Gombhiranathji, ofcourse, knew the change of heart in thamma before being told. He was devastated when thamma took my father to be the disciple of her new guru.

Finally, though, thamma was allowed her spiritual rebellion. Boro thamma was no longer around to chasten her and she could carry on at her own discretion. But gurus did not cross the family threshold easily despite rampant miracles. Thamma always recalled the same cautionary tale – a guru who, overcome with lust, tried to trick a nubile bride!

This false guru was so infatuated by a young bride that he blessed her with a carnation. The carnation had a spell on it. The unsuspecting bride took the flower but carelessly left it on a mortar and pestle. The guru tried to use the carnation spell to lure the bride to his lair at night. But instead got the mortar and pestle hopping about to get to the guru. Needlessly to say the guru was lynched. False messengers of the Gods, beware!

But false messengers or not, all divine and spiritual messengers require food and sustenance and no ordinary sustenance mind you! It required a 16 course prasad (divine meal) every Thursday to satisfy the combined divine-spiritual trifecta of Lord Krishna-Gombhiranathji-Shri Shri Gauri Ma. Gombhiranathji had a favourite tea with almost every expensive herbs and spices thrown into it from basil to cinnamon, cardamom and cloves. It was more a health concoction than tea. Shri Shri Gauri Ma was a fan of jalebis (a fried wheat flour pretzel soaked in syrup). So, my poor mother slaved every Thursday from dawn to dusk over the 16 course prasad and I was responsible for the jalebis. At 3 pm, I would saunter down to the local sweet shop and purchased the requisite 1 kilogram jalebis. After all one has to be generous in such affairs as pleasing the Gods and gurus.

But more than anything, every Thursday turned out to be more about gluttony than spirituality. A 16 course prasad with all the best ingredients in the world had to be devoured by the faithful. Even neighbours got used to not cooking on Thursday’s to accommodate the varying and delicious meals served in the name of devotion.

I have never seen thamma in such religious fervour before or since those 18 months she spent with us in Barbil. I guess the land of Lord Krishna has that effect on the devout. And 16 days of rains reminded thamma of Lord Krishna’s birth and nothing sort of a visit to Puri would do. Mother was reluctant to plan a trip in torrential rain. Thamma came up with a solution. Bury chillies in the ground. It is supposed to stop the rains and bring forth sunshine. Well, thamma’s whimsies were always entertained. So, duly, the next day, 3 kilograms of chilies were buried to ward off rains. And guess what, after 17 days of rains, the skies cleared and Puri was on the travel itinerary.

And boy did it rain sunshine? The tropical sun came back with full force. Thamma with her portable golden Lord Krishna was too hot and almost melted during the trip. Puri was too changed to comfort thamma and the priest too money-minded to satisfy religious aspirations. We had five tyre punctures on the way. The whole journey was a relief when it was over for all those concerned and dimmed thamma’s religious fervour for the rest of her time with us.

But spirituality or superstition, thamma continued her conflicted devotion of God and gurus till the very end of her life. As in all things, I was destined to inherit the heirlooms. But, as with all things, destiny had other plans. Thamma passed away in Kolkata surrounded by my aunt’s family and they were the unexpected (and I suspect unhappy) inheritors of such fussy and frivolous God and gurus!