‘Dharmaprakāśa’ Sajjan Rao (

‘Dharmaprakāśa’ Sajjan Rao (Part 1)

[[‘Dharmaprakāśa’ Sajjan Rao (Part 1) Source: prekshaa]]

Along with Mandi Hariyanna’s name, it is Dharmaprakāśa S Sajjan Rao’s name that comes to mind. ¹ The two were always together, like the Aśvini-devatas. Every morning, both of them would go for a walk, to get some air. It was the same routine every evening too. Their friendship gave the impression that a single soul existed in two bodies. If any friend encountered only one of them, it was normal to enquire, “How is it that you’re alone? Where is he?”

I had gained Sajjan Rao’s affection long before I was aquainted with Hariyanna. At that time, his business was located in Doddapete, north of Tuppadanjaneya Temple Street.

Sajjan Rao’s son-in-law and my esteemed friend Mannaji Rao was his business partner. An incident of that time has remained in my mind.

Famed Stallion

At that time, Sajjan Rao maintained a top class horse-drawn carriage. The horse was well-known all over Bangalore. Its sheath—from face to tail, without leaving an inch—was a spotless white. And it glistened. Its trot was akin to a dance. Ribbons of silver and silk were tied to it. Sajjan Rao’s horse was a real feast for the eyes of the citizens of Bangalore. What a lovely horse! Such a graceful trot! But then, it died one day; I don’t remember from what cause. There was no one who did not shed a tear in its memory.

I clearly remember the time Sajjan Rao bought a piece of land near Doddapete Square and constructed the building there, which is the place that eventually housed his business. A frightful incident occurred during that time.

While the construction work was still in progress, Sajjan Rao used to sleep upstairs in the premises during the nights. One night, just past midnight, while he was half asleep, he heard a terrifying scream of “Ayyo! Ayyo!” Rao was slightly alarmed. Yet, he arose, stood in first floor verandah of the shop, and looked towards the Doddapete-Chikkapete junction. What did he see? A man ablaze from head to toe. And that was hardly for a minute. The next minute, the man dropped dead.

Who was he? He was Bidare Ashwatthanarayana Shastri, an author of Kannada books. Shastri’s house was on a lane near the Kalamma Temple. Who knows what happenend, he slashed [the throats of] his two wives and two children, wrapped himself completely in a cloth, poured kerosene on it, and lit it up himself; screaming loudly, he ran to the Doddapete junction, fell down, and perished there.

Sajjan Rao himself narrated this ghastly tale to me the next day. Oh my god! Śiva Śiva! Śāntam pāpam.

Ramalingaswami

It appears that spiritual bhakti had come naturally to Sajjan Rao even at a young age. He had high reverence for mendicants, sādhus, saints, fakirs, monks, yogis, and such holy people. I have alluded to this in my writing about Avadhūta Mahādeva Śāstri. It was Sajjan Rao’s nature to find, identify, and seek guidance of such noble people.

Under some circumstances, he was introduced to one Ramalingaswami, a recluse from Tamil Nadu. That acquaintance turned to devotion; single-minded bhakti. The Swamiji would never accept anything from anybody for himself. If any devotee insisted, owing to their deep devotion, he would accept a banana or a fistful of roasted corn and a cup of milk. No one seems to know his personal background. He would come often to meet Sajjan Rao. No one knows what transpired in their discussions. It was hidden even from his son-in-law Mannaji Rao, who was extremely close to Sajjan Rao.

But I’ve heard from a few people that Sajjan Rao constructed the Subramanyaswami Temple and the choultry on the advice of this Swamiji; I believe it might be so.

Refinement

Whatever work Sajjan Rao chose to take up, he would do it immaculately. In the temples that he built, it was compulsory to wash not only the pillars and the vigrahas but also the ground, the mats spread on the ground, the maṇṭapa, and so forth. Any oil stains had to be scoured and shined. The monthly requirements of rock salt supplies, brooms, sack clothes – all these cleaning gear were listed and the quantity to be consumed written down. He would inspect whether work was being carried out accordingly, by inspecting with his own hands.

He had to visit Mirza saheb and other officials frequently in order to seek land for the temple. I used to see him often then. I have witnessed several activities that Sajjan Rao used to undertake like preparation of the building plan after obtaining the site, appointment of workers, and arrangement for stone, brick, and cement. There is perhaps not a single inch of stone in that building that has not been personally held in his hands and passed by Sajjan Rao. He ensured that not a single paisa was wasted. My recollection is that the construction work went on for two to three years. Rao used to remain at the site from morning eight to evening eight. His friends and others used to come there to meet him.

“Funds”

The temple construction was complete. Then, the prāṇa-pratiṣṭhāpanā (literally, giving ‘life’ to the vigraha) was done. And then, an amusing incident.

Senior surgeon S Subba Rao’s residence was near the temple. I had been there on a friendly visit. Sajjan Rao too joined within ten minutes. Dr. Subba Rao asked, “What’s this rāyare, you’ve built the temple. But it looks so bare and barren. Won’t you construct a gopura?”

Sajjan Rao replied, “No money, sir!”

Subba Rao immediately went into the room and returning, slammed on the table, a three kāsu coin and a biḍikāsu coin. ²

Sajjan Rao asked, “What is this?”

“You said you have no money. Take this. Build the gopura. How long can one see a temple without a gopura?”

Sajjan Rao then said, “Sir, I will seek money from all people who are virtuous in this world. There’s nothing in this that’s mine. God’s work has to continue due to the puṇya of people like you. Let this puṇya-kārya (noble work) begin with your money!”

The gopura construction started within a month or two after this incident. Sajjan Rao wore maḍi clothes and walked on the streets [seeking funds] accompanied by his wife. People were happy that such a good man had begun a noble undertaking. They contributed whatever they could to Rao’s plate. Those contributions should not be valued from the perspective of a bank. Nor from the point of view of numbers; but from people’s attitude. It was Sajjan Rao’s ardent desire that many people’s pure (flawless) devotion should fuse (integrate) with his efforts.

To be concluded.

This is the first part of the translation of the fifth essay in D V Gundappa’s magnum-opus Jnapakachitrashaale (Volume 7) – Hrudaya Sampannaru. Edited by Hari Ravikumar.

Footnotes

‘Dharmaprakāśa’ Sajjan Rao (Part 2)

[[‘Dharmaprakāśa’ Sajjan Rao (Part 2) Source: prekshaa]]

Gratification

On the day the gopura work was completed, the kalaśa was established, and the samprokṣaṇā was done, one should have seen Sajjan Rao. He was the epitome of gratification; a man in supreme bliss. An essential part of human life is that bliss. One has to live for such pure joy. Fortunate are those that experience such joy.

~

Sajjan Rao graced my house one day afternoon at around three. I received him and after he sat down, I asked him, “What’s this rāyare – you’ve come in this sunshine? It is so hot!”

Sajjan Rao said, “Let the sunshine be, it can be borne somehow. There is turmoil in my mind. Its heat is intense. I felt like seeking your suggestion. So here I am.”

I asked, “What sort of turmoil, rāyare? The temple work is going on well, is it not?”

“Swami, will our Hindu religion survive?”

“What are you saying? If you had asked this question two years back, arrangements could have been made to save you two lakh rupees!”

“How so?” he asked.

I said, “Construction of temple and choultry could have been stopped then!”

“Swami, don’t make fun. My mind is tense.”

“Rāyare, why do you fear? Hindu religion is eternal. It can never get sullied.”

“Swami, some people say – ‘Why did you put money into that temple? You could have done some other social good with it. A school, a hospital, a veterinary hospital, or a students’ hostel would have been better!’ This hurts my mind a little.”

I then said, “Schools and hostels are all fine. No one says they are bad. But the fundamental for all that is the Supreme. If there is belief in the Supreme, from that belief is born dharma. If there is no god, why does one need dharma or morals? Our life rests on the support of the faith we have in the Supreme. And that Supreme is not something we can see. It’s not something we can hold in our hands. So we need some symbol or sign to meditate on the Supreme. We imagine god in our mind through that symbol. The temple is that symbol. Therefore, there is a need for temples as long as man needs the Supreme. The temple itself is not god. But god is realised by means of the temple. This is the commoners’ path.”

Permanence

“Even among Muslims and Christians, this statement is true. If you give up god, what life support do humans have? Land, house, money in the bank, gold – how long can a man live on these? Children, wife, friends, relatives – how long will these last? Isn’t the Supreme the only permanent thing? No matter how strong a person is or how intelligent, will not his power and wealth perish one day? Then he will have to realise his helplessness and place his trust in the Supreme. Such people of Bangalore and surrounding areas will come to Vishveshwarapuram and surrender to Subramanyaswami. You have done work that will give courage and hope to thousands of people for thousands of years. This is permanent dharma!”

Sajjan Rao listened to me intently. He said it gave him mental courage and left.

Humility

Let me recount an incident that conveys Sajjan Rao’s nature.

Another afternoon, he came to my house. That is usually my coffee time. I was extremely pleased he came home at that time. My sister gave him home-made uppiṭṭu in a plate and coffee in a mug to him, just as she did for me. We were conversing about various things while eating. I then remembered something. Rao loved tāmbūla (paan). After every meal, he would take some buttermilk followed by tāmbūla. But I don’t take tāmbūla. I went from the sitting room into the house to instruct my sister to ready the tāmbūla. When I returned to the room after giving instructions about the tāmbūla, Rao had moved from the room to the hall and was looking for something behind the door. I asked him, “What rāyare, what do you want?”

Signalling with his hands, he whispered, “A small broom!”

I was perplexed. I said “Why?”

“Swami, this is a brāhmaṇa home. While eating uppiṭṭu, a couple of grains might have dropped to the floor. If I can get a broom, I shall myself sweep it and wipe it clean.”

Readers may imagine my surprise. A man who was a millionaire and eminently virtuous, who could employ hundreds like me under him – is this for real?

Internal Beauty

Seeing me surprised, this is what Sajjan Rao said:

“This is no big deal. To me this is routine. I first worked in my maternal uncle Bhojagade Venkata Rao’s shop. As soon as it struck eight in the evening, the shutters were to be brought down, carpets and pillows to be dusted, the inner area to be swept such that there was not a speck of dust, and then the shop doors shut. As soon as the doors were opened next morning, everything had to be spick-and-span. I’m used to it since then. Is it difficult for me to take out the mailige that I have caused in a brāhmaṇa’shouse? It’s alright sir.”

This matter needs no explanation, right?

Sajjan Rao was friendly and generous. More importantly, he was a humble man.

Sajjan Rao need not be among the ranks of the learned. But he is at the top among the echelons of cultured people. Culture is higher than learning. Learning means bookish knowledge. Culture is life’s internal beauty.

Concluded.

This is the second part of the translation of the fifth essay in D V Gundappa’s magnum-opus Jnapakachitrashaale (Volume 7) – Hrudaya Sampannaru. Edited by Hari Ravikumar.