On the way to Vancouver, I ran into a younger gentleman who was on the same flight as I, and he hesitantly came and greeted me. It turned out that his grandfather was an acquaintance of mine. Meeting him brought back some old memories.
On account of my Gurunatha’s association with the Sringeri Mutt, many of my acquaintances are from Andhra Desha. And the trend therein is for everyone to be a upāsaka of Srīvidyā. Most of them, while being ignorant of the basic philosophical roots of Srīvidyā, juxtapose Vedānta characterized by Vivartavāda in their own superstitious way with Srīvidyā, refusing to even accept it as Tantra, at the same time performing numerous heterogenous rituals infused with heavy loads of anecdotal folk tales and a sense of self-righteous pride.
Anyway, one such acquaintance of mine had been the grandfather of this young chap, who was a scholar of Nyāya at Tirupati. Again, as per the ‘Andhra fashion’, he was also initiated into Srīvidyā, and he frequently spent time expounding how Bhāskararāya was incorrect in his interpretation of the name Mithyājagadadhiṣṭhānā. As with most of his co-ethnics, Srīvidyā to him meant Japa and a cursory simplified Navāvaraṇa pūjā, apart from a lot of skullduggeries involving quotations from prasthānatrayī and Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇa. Needless to say, his experience with practical upāsanā was minimal. Nevertheless, he was a decent gentleman, albeit pompous, but so are many folks from Andhra deśa!
One fine day, during the days of my youth, he mentioned that he wanted to bring a certain ‘friend’ of his to meet me. This guy was also a Srīvidyā upāsaka, and he whispered with horror on his face, ‘but he is a Kaula! So I will not be here when you guys talk’. I chuckled at his fear and decided to meet his friend. A week later, the other gentleman showed up at my door, having traveled all the way from Vizag.
He was a rather obnoxious person, who upon arriving, immediately walked to our pūjā mandira, sniffed around like a trained canine and said, “Ammavaru says she likes your house”. Well, how nice to get a certificate from Her Highness Herself! And then he spoke at length describing his lineage, which he traced to Bengal, but based in Godavari basin for the last few generations. He was initiated at the age of thirty-five and had performed upāsanā for two decades. He began to worship Devī as Bālā and then as Sundarī. I was told that Devī had confided in him that he was Kāmeśvara and that the only right way to worship her would be as his svastrī. He ridiculed my upāsanā as paśubhāva several times, explaining how the image of Goddess as ‘mother’ was for the weak-hearted. Tired of listening to his long monologue, I was making every attempt to send him on his way so I can catch a well-deserved nap.
He mentioned that Devī would sit on his left lap every day while he ate food and fanned him. He also mentioned that she pressed his foot every night and he ordered her around like his wife. Having grown up in a household where women were respected as equals and not ordered around, it was quite inconceivable as to how he could treat Devī like his maid. Such archaic ideas sounded regressive even for a normal, human lady. It was quite obvious that he had not studied in true spirit any śāstras of Kulāmnāya which accord great respect to women. Though he called himself a Kaula, it was clear that he had no idea about any of the secrets of Kula Tantra. As a final act of arrogance, he stepped right into our pījāmandira and began to open the sampuṭa to dish out the Meru. The Meru in our pūjā is ancient and is rumored to have been worshiped by Vidyāraṇya and has received worship by several great men in the past. It was handed down to me through an elderly gentleman associated with the Matha at Sringeri; his grandfather was a famed Vedāntin who was conferred sannyāsa by none other than Srī Saccidānanda Shivābhinava Nṛsiṃha Bhāratī. The minute he went close to the Meru, one of the several lamps lit there fell on him and he suffered a burn. He backed away at that point and left my place.
Ten months later, he visited my place again, but this time, he was a defeated man. There had been a robbery at his house which had left him with nothing. His wife decided to move back to her parents’ residence. He was caught messing with numbers at work (he was an accountant) and was temporarily suspended while being investigated. At the same time, he had angered a local upāsaka of Bhadrakālī from Cheradeśa and earned his wrath. A prayoga had been performed on him which had severely affected the excretory functions in his body.
He stood at my doorstep seeking assistance. My first question to him was, “But Devī sits on your lap and presses your feet! How then could all this happen to you?” He sheepishly apologized and pleaded for help. I directed him to one of my ācāryas, a learned Nambudari from Ambikapuram who was my Guru for the mantras of Shūlinī, Vanadurgā, Pratyaṅgirā, and Sharabheśvara. I later got to know that the great man had used the mantra of Viparīta Pratyaṅgirā Bhadrakālī to rid him of his affliction. This Mahāvidyā is the crown jewel of Uttarāmnāya, and along with Mohinī Mātaṅgī of Paścimāmnāya, she manifests as Aṣṭabhujī Mahāsarasvatī of Vāyavyāmnāya.
After this incident, we did not hear much from this gentleman. He had quite given up on Srīvidyā and had taken to lecturing on ‘deeper philosophical aspects’ of Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. It is not clear if he had ever attained some kind of Mantra-siddhi, but his attitude towards the upāsya devatā had certainly not helped him. He had learned the hard way, the futility of attempting to control a cosmic power, far greater than anything known, and inconceivable by all minds on earth put together, in a rather juvenile way.