It was one of the usual days in Rameshwaram. Sadhus flocking around from place to place. The various thirthas or wells, where a bath would cleanse one of all sins, were attracting the usual crowds. A busy place, and definitely a place to be in. Not simply would this be called the Kashi of the south. Popular belief was that death in Rameshwaram was a bypass to moksha. So, there were people who came on trips to this place, old-age irrelevant, hoping for death to consume them during their stay here. The children of those unfortunate ones who couldn't die here, would come to conduct their annual ceremonies here. A place associated with death, and with the one who rules even death, Lord Shiva, Rameshwaram was the ideal pilgrimage spot.
Out of the salty sea waters rose a man. Bare-chested, well-built, but definitely on the wiser side of fifty, he tied his hair in the form of a kudumi (shikha), and took two more dips into the water. He then walked out of the water, and said a few chants, as he removed the garlands of tulasi beads around his neck, one by one, and drifted them into the water. He then walked up to the flight of stairs, and changed from his panchagacham veshti into a saffron robe. He then walked back into the river, and chanted a few mantras, as he cut a part of his hair, and drifted that into the water.
Rameshwaram was buzzing with activity, as the man walked right across the stairs, to get a small blade. He walked back into the water, and took some vibhuthi in his hands. He rubbed the palms against one another and now smeared the vibhuthi all across his body.Then he took the blade in his hand, and in one motion, cut the sacred thread. With a lifting of the hands, and the chant of Om Namah Sivayah, he let it drift into the water too. With just the saffron robe on his body, and the smear of ash on his forhead, he walked back towards the temple, when he heard a familiar voice calling. "Ramanna Ramanna, Lakshmi manni got hit by a tanker lorry. She is in the Apollo. Please come back." He turned back, and said " A true Sanyasin knows no family". Saying this, Venkataraman walked back towards the temple.
Out of the salty sea waters rose a man. Bare-chested, well-built, but definitely on the wiser side of fifty, he tied his hair in the form of a kudumi (shikha), and took two more dips into the water. He then walked out of the water, and said a few chants, as he removed the garlands of tulasi beads around his neck, one by one, and drifted them into the water. He then walked up to the flight of stairs, and changed from his panchagacham veshti into a saffron robe. He then walked back into the river, and chanted a few mantras, as he cut a part of his hair, and drifted that into the water.
Rameshwaram was buzzing with activity, as the man walked right across the stairs, to get a small blade. He walked back into the water, and took some vibhuthi in his hands. He rubbed the palms against one another and now smeared the vibhuthi all across his body.Then he took the blade in his hand, and in one motion, cut the sacred thread. With a lifting of the hands, and the chant of Om Namah Sivayah, he let it drift into the water too. With just the saffron robe on his body, and the smear of ash on his forhead, he walked back towards the temple, when he heard a familiar voice calling. "Ramanna Ramanna, Lakshmi manni got hit by a tanker lorry. She is in the Apollo. Please come back." He turned back, and said " A true Sanyasin knows no family". Saying this, Venkataraman walked back towards the temple.
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