Chapter Sixteen
Miracle Making
After Swami’s mahasamadhi, many stories were told of how he had healed people and cured diseases. While he lived, no one dared to speak about these things. Swami did his work quietly and without show. Most often, if he knew someone was sick, he would send the ailing devotee to a doctor for medicine. As likely as not, he would arrive at the doctor’s office at precisely the same time the patient did. He would often tell the physician exactly what medicine to give, then even make sure it was taken. Sometimes he would take the medicine from the devotee, carry it to his hut and put it under his pillow. “This way, it will work for you,” he would say as he gave it back the next morning. S. Ampikaipaakan wrote of one such incident from 1936. §
Mr. V. Duraiswamy, the leader of the ruling party in Sri Lanka, had been invited for the coronation of King George VI and to receive the honor of knighthood. He suddenly became ill when his travel arrangements to London were being made, and the physicians advised him not to go. §
In those days, Swamigal sometimes stayed in Peradanai with Mr. Velupillai, brother of scholar Somasundaram. Swamigal felt Sir Duraiswamy’s sickness from Peradanai and gave to Velupillai a list of medicines to buy. When Mr. Velupillai took the list to the store, the storekeeper warned him that the medicines were highly toxic. He conveyed that to Swamigal, but Swamigal said not to mind that and asked him to boil them. Mr. Velupillai made a decoction of the ingredients and gave it to Swamigal. §
Swamigal consumed the mixture and a short time afterwards began to vomit violently and to suffer with severe diarrhea. Mr. Velupillai became afraid and started to cry. After some time Swamigal asked for some lemon juice mixed with salted soda water and drank it. A few hours later, he became well.§
It was common for devotees to turn to Yogaswami when life was difficult or death drew near. He assured all that there was nothing to fear, that Lord Siva is looking after everything. Somehow knowing when a soul was about to depart, Swami would go to the home, apply holy ash to the forehead and thus bless the journey ahead.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •§
The next morning Swamigal announced, “Now Duraiswamy can go to London. The treatment for his illness has been done. It will be good for him and the Tamil society if he goes.” Duraiswamy recovered, went to London, and received the title from the king. §
Swamigal remained as though nothing happened even after this remarkable miracle, and Mr. Velupillai kept the matter secret and told me about it only after Swamigal attained mahasamadhi. What a difference there is between our Swamigal and those who announce every tiny accomplishment in glittering megalomaniac advertising.§
Mr. Velupillai himself had a healing experience with Swami. S. Ampikaipaakan recorded it in his biography.§
One afternoon around 3 o’clock, I became dizzy and fainted. Lord’s son sent two doctors, and they gave some medicine. I regained consciousness, but I was not able to get up, and I was also not clear what was happening to me. In the morning at 8 o’clock Swamigal came by coach and said to me, “I have brought three medicines for you. Coming near, he touched my head with his compassionate hands and intoned, “Sivayanama.” Visiting again the next day, Swamigal said, “Look here, I will show Chidambaram darshan.” He then danced as Nataraja for five minutes, with his loosened hair flying around. On the third day he gave me a medicine he had brought with him, mixed in warm water. I became well on the fourth day. I told of this miracle to the president of Kambala Hospital, Dr. Ramanathan, who exclaimed, “That dance was wonderful. It is called Mrityunjaya [defying death], a very effective cure.” §
As in the West, holy men in the East sometimes make claims of healing. It is a time-honored way to build large followings, capitalizing on the hopes stricken people have for miracle cures. Yogaswami pooh-poohed such outward, even ostentatious, displays of powers; but silently, when needed, he used his powers to both heal and console. Grandpa Chinnaya’s relatives told the following story.§
Yogaswami had come down to Colombo from Jaffna. Many devotees in Colombo heard of his arrival and went to see him. One of these was Grandpa Chinnaya. He’d had to take a train to Colombo as his family lived out of town. Grandpa went to see Swami on behalf of one of his sons who was direly ill with double pneumonia. There were about thirty people sitting at Swami’s feet, and one by one he dismissed them until only Grandpa Chinnaya remained. Grandpa told of his son’s sickness, and Swami gave him a large bunch of grapes, telling him to take them home and give them to his son to eat. §
Grandpa left, worried he might not catch the train back home, as it was getting very late. However, just as he arrived for the train, the train arrived, his timing perfect. He returned home to find his son seriously ill with a high fever. He sat him up and proceeded to feed him the grapes, one at a time. The son managed to eat half of them, then fell to sleep. The next morning the fever was gone and his son was well. Grandpa knew that Yogaswami’s blessings cured his son.§
S. Kandiah of Ontario shared: §
My first experience with Swami’s healing power was in 1949, when my wife’s father was in Jaffna General Hospital, critically ill with tetanus. The doctors had given up all hopes of his recovery. My father-in-law was a devotee of Swami since early childhood, as Swami used to spend a week to ten days at a time at his family’s home in Anuradhapura, in quiet meditation. §
Unexpectedly, Swami came to the hospital ward accompanied by the medical superintendent, whereupon my mother-in-law fell at Swami’s feet weeping. He consoled her, saying, “Go to Nallur Temple tomorrow, Friday, and perform an archana in the morning five o’clock puja.” The doctors did not believe her husband would even last until that time; but he did. The archana was done, and no sooner was the holy ash applied to his forehead, his locked jaws opened and he spoke for the first time in three days. After ten days, he was back at home, fully recovered. §
Swami was often seen in different places at the same time. He never spoke of this power, but people who had seen him at one place conferred with others who had seen him at the same time but at a different place. They had friendly arguments about who had really seen Swami. If he heard of the disagreement, he would laugh. Doctor K. Nithiyanandan tells this story:§
My elder brother lived in England in 1938 and the early part of 1939 while attending to his higher studies. At that time the Second World War had just started in the Western countries. Hitler’s activities were a great threat to the Allied Nations. The industrial towns of England were the target of Hitler’s offensive. Hence, my father was terribly worried about my brother. One day he went to Swami wondering about all these worries. Swami looked at him and said, “Do not fear anything.” My father feared as a result of the great dangers magnified in the papers. But other dangers that my father did not expect awaited my brother. §
Swami’s gracious words turned out to be words of assurance which protected my brother from all those dangers. One day, the heater in my brother’s room burst and began smoking. My brother was stunned by this sudden incident and did not know what to do. As he sat there unable to do anything, he reached the state of unconsciousness. Then he heard Swami’s voice say, “Thamby, break the windows.” Swami’s words, which were loud and clear, gave my brother new life. He broke the windows, came out and escaped the great danger he was in. The next day, early morning, when my father went to see Swami, he said, “I saw your son yesterday.” §
In Tamil Sages and Seers of Ceylon V. Muthucumaraswami recorded an unusual incident that was narrated to him by Dr. Francis Pillai. §
The mother, a Christian, of an engineer who is now in the U.K. was deeply worried about her son, as she had not received any letter from him for a long time. She begged Yogar Swamy to find details about him. Yogar Swamy tried to dissuade her, but she persisted, so Yogar Swamy went into a trance and recorded what the engineer was doing. He found that he was in good health and good spirits. Then he came back from his trance and gave an exact description of her son, his friends, his room and what he was doing. The mother wrote a letter to her son about this and got a letter back, which exactly confirmed what Yogar Swamy had told her.§
With just a slight change in his immediate environment he could make dramatic changes in the larger one. One day Yogaswami sat in his Columbuthurai Ashram with a few devotees, facing north as he always did. Oranges that a devotee had brought lay at his feet. Swami, who was engaged in eager conversation with his devotees, suddenly said, “Poor brahmin, the hermit.” The statement was wholly irrelevant to the conversation. Saying that, Swami picked up an orange that had fallen from the pile and put it back in its place. He continued the conversation, and the devotees took little note of his statement. However, in fact, those were critical words of protection for the respected scholar and orator Rajayogi Sankarasuppaiyar. At the moment Swami moved the orange, the car in which the brahmin was traveling was saved from a tragic accident, the details of which Rajayogi himself related. §
Once, after a lecture at the Sinthernkerny Mahaganapathy temple, I was returning to Nallur at night when there was a heavy downpour. At the bend in Seerani village, the drain had filled up, and the water was overflowing onto the road; the driver could not see the road. Suddenly a light appeared, illuminating the road, allowing us to avoid the drain and reach our destination safely. If not for the light, we would not have seen the deep trench and the car would have fallen straight into it. Many lives were saved due to the light. I later learnt from devotees of Swami how he had said, “Poor brahmin hermit” and placed the orange. What great compassion!§
A devout Muslim man of Colombo, having heard about Yogaswami of Jaffna, persuaded a Yogaswami devotee he knew to take him to meet Swami. The man held the government post of Solicitor General, a post comparable to Attorney General in the US. The two made the trip to Jaffna by train and checked into a rest house. The next morning they bathed and approached Swami’s hut in Columbuthurai. §
As they were going in the gate, Swami shouted at the top of his voice, “Who is that? I don’t want to see anybody today. Go away.” The two stopped. After a moment of discussion, the devotee approached Swami alone and explained that the Solicitor General of Ceylon had come all the way from Colombo hoping to meet him. Swami shouted, “I don’t care if he’s the Solicitor General or a Supreme Court judge. I don’t want to meet him today. Go away.”§
Deeply embarrassed, the devotee returned to his friend and advised that they not try anymore. Dejected, they returned to Colombo the same day. When the Solicitor General arrived at his home that evening, a letter from the government awaited him. It said that he had been appointed as a Supreme Court judge, effective immediately, and he must take up his duties the following day. With tears in his eyes, he recalled what the sage had shouted, and realized that if Swami had met with him, he would have stayed longer in Jaffna and would not have been able to act on this letter in the timely way it required. §
The next week, he traveled to Jaffna to meet and pay his respects to Swami. This time, as he entered the gate, Swami greeted him with a big grin and said, “Well, hello, Supreme Court Judge. Nice to see you.” As the years went by, the justice made it a point to come from Colombo to see Swami at least once a month. He served as a Supreme Court judge for twenty-five years. §
One morning in the course of a lecture tour in Jaffna, Professor A.S. Gnanasampanthan, an academic from Tamil Nadu, awoke to discover he had completely lost his voice. He was taken to a retired ear-nose-throat surgeon, who, upon examining him, informed him the ailment was serious and he must go to the hospital in Colombo for tests. Gnanasampanthan was downcast and fearful, as he depended on his speech to provide financial support to his family. §
Just as he was getting into the car, the doctor rushed up to him, saying, “I know you are a devotee of Yogaswami; why not go and see him before you set off?” Mentally scolding himself for having not thought of it himself, Gnanasampanthan decided to go to Swami right away, despite knowing that devotees did not usually disturb him during the daytime. Swami greeted him saying, “Did you think the doctor was Lord Murugan? Why did you go there?” A tirade followed detailing his foolishness. Swami then beckoned the lecturer to sit down. A half hour passed in silence. Swami then ordered, “Go and give your talk tonight, then come back and see me.” §
Realizing that Swami had restored his voice, Gnanasampanthan responded weepingly, “I shall abide as instructed by Swamigal.” When he returned after the lecture, he was confronted by Swami, who said, “We will cut and bury Kamban and Sekkilar.” (Kamban translated the Ramayana into Tamil, and Sekkilar authored the Periyapuranam, in which he documented the life history of the 63 Saivite saints). §
Gnanasampanthan claims that the voice he spoke with thereafter was that ordained by Swamigal, and from then on did conquer (cut and bury) the arcane subject matter. In the course of time, the professor produced thirty high-quality books, which he credited to Yogaswami’s grace alone.§
Sinnappoo Navaratnarajah narrated the following story.§
My parents, having left me in the care of my grandparents, were away in Malaysia. I was said to be suffering from a peculiar ailment at the tip of my tongue. My grandmother, who could not bear to see me undergoing suffering, complained to Swami, stating that the family were greatly concerned over my illness, as their attempts to obtain medical treatment, Western as well as Eastern (ayurvedic), ended in failure to find a remedy. Swami did not say anything elaborate and, in his usual way of conversation, told them, “This is the present state of the problem.” §
Swami daily takes a trudge to Ariyalai, about two miles away from his ashram, passing my house. I used to run away from his sight when I saw him at a distance, because his body build and bearded face were scary. The distance of the Tamil school where I studied was about twenty-five yards from my house and necessitated my passing Swami’s ashram, which was about five yards from the road. §
One day when I was on my way to school, Swami opened his gate and as he emerged to the top of the road both of us met face to face, and there was no chance of my escaping from his sight. I stood still, in silence, and he ordered me to open my mouth. No sooner had I opened my mouth, Swami asked me if he could spit into my mouth, but just blew air three times over the affected part of the tongue, and it was completely cured. §
Chellappaswami had taught him to avoid any semblance of supernatural powers, so he downplayed such mysterious events. Regarding this part of his work as incidental, he made everything miraculous seem ordinary, if it became known at all. §
Seeing Death as a Part of Life
Yogaswami was also a great consoler when tragedy and the shadow of death loomed large and he knew someone’s transition was imminent. Dr. Ramanathan wrote of his deep compassion in such times of distress.§
Whenever we were stricken with grief and depression, Swami’s divine words, full of affection, gave us great consolation. “Why are you frightened? Isn’t there then One who directs everything? Surrender to Him and just be. There is no need for enmity. Forgive and forget the evil others do. The God who administers the world knows everything. Are you greater than that omnipotent, all-powerful one? What can you do?” With these words He graced and blessed us to live peacefully without losing self control. §
When my brother-in-law lay on his death bed, Swami came, applied holy ash and sent him on his final pilgrimage. There is no doubt that he attained a good state. §
Another devotee testified:§
Once Yogaswami came by when our daughter was ill. We implored him to help. He said, “Don’t worry, she is going to the feet of Siva Peruman.” That night she passed on.§
C. S. Dharmarajah wrote of Swami’s knowledge of death:§
Once a doctor holding a high appointment in the Health Department visited Swami, as he was wont to do whenever he went to the North. Swami said, “Now what you have to do is change your coat.” A few days later, back in Colombo, the good doctor shed his mortal coil.§
Ratna Ma Navaratnam shared the following insight on Swami’s most transformative magic.§
Swami attracted a great number of people from all walks of life, and to each one he revealed, according to his own measure of understanding, the fringe of his destiny. He was not an occultist nor a clairvoyant siddha who could prophecy a man’s future; neither was he a supramental being who lived in the solitude of his powers. He was a man of God whose yogic wisdom made him touch some hidden chord in each one, so that he wielded a wondrous power to change people’s inner nature by bringing up the secret chambers of their hearts to the surface, and expose to their gaze the bewildering reactions and hidden motives underlying their actions.§
This was perhaps the reason why many people would shiver inwardly in his presence, or keep away from his penetrative eyes. They were afraid of exposure. Yet, so irresistible was his humanity that even his scorching onslaughts would act like the monsoonal showers of grace, and devotees would seek him in hours of tribulation and tension. In countless ways he alleviated their aches and pains, so that the faith of the multitude of people who sat at his feet towered as high as Mount Kailas, from where he brought forth the healing waters of the grace of Siva. Truly it was the descent of the divine Ganga!§
Swami taught devotees to see beyond the realm of good and bad and strive to accept all that happens as just what is needed to further the soul’s evolution. He explained:§
We must not think that if such and such a thing happens, it is good; or if some other thing doesn’t happen, it is bad. You must understand that all these actions that arise from maya are a help to realize the Self. By raising him up and bringing him down again and again, the Lord makes a man gain experience. You must get rid of all illusion. All tests are for good.§
The Sivathondan Journal
In December of 1934 Swami had his followers begin a monthly newsletter called The Sivathondan (meaning “servant of Siva”), with articles on religious subjects, written in Tamil with a small section for English readers. Inthumathy Amma describes the enterprise:§
Its purpose was to encourage contemplation on Siva, since forgetting Siva is the cause of all woe, and the remedy is to repeatedly remind oneself to “contemplate, contemplate, contemplate the state of Siva.” The publishing was done at the Kamalasani Printing Press, at Giragama Estate, Kaduganawa, near Kandy, and later at Peradeniya. Swami took a deep, abiding interest in the journal, tending to it as the eye is protected by the eyelid. He worked closely with the editor, Pundit K.K. Natarajan, and the printer, and ordered learned devotees to contribute articles, though no authors’ names were ever cited. Swami even watched over the mailing, saying, “You must paste the wrapper around without concealing the Siva appearing on the cover. If the word Siva alone stays in the mind of those who see the journal, it will be a great achievement.”§
The motto he gave the publication was, “God resides in the heart of those who contemplate on Him.” Each issue featured one of his Natchintanai songs. Yogaswami valued the publication so highly that he personified it as a small boy in one of his most inspiring songs, entitled “The Sivathondan:” §
O you servants of Siva! Know that it is your duty to gladden the heart of that small child, who to your noble courtyards comes Sivathondu to perform, and who the holy name of Sivathondan bears! That dear boy called Sivathondan, who worships the servants of Siva as Siva, has come on this earth for the happiness of all, in the auspicious month of Markali in Bhava Year. Though but a small child, because of his past tapas he is a master of great knowledge. He is one who knows the worth of taking a good deed, equal to a grain of millet, to be as great as a palmyra tree in size. He understands that everything is Siva’s action. To him belongs the blessing of overcoming anger. He is filled with truth, forbearance and tranquility and is an adept in discerning the eternal from the passing. Transcending the path of the six adhvas [chakras], he has realized the state beyond the tattvas. Poverty will not disturb him, nor will prosperity elate him. He is a pure soul, possessed of abundant patience. Not an inch from the path of dharma will he swerve, but will always go the way the supreme guru has declared. Honored by all the world, his nature is to live with hands engaged in work and thoughts engaged with God. Every month he will go with gladness to your home, from which the Goddess Lakshmi ne’er departs, bringing with him Good Thought and good religion, and the marvelous song of holy praise, and yoga expounded with deep learning. §
The first Natchintanai that Swami wrote for The Sivathondan was “God Is Our All.” It was later translated into English:§
God is our life of life, so we belong and slave to God. All our movements are God’s movements, and we cannot forget that at any time. We have nothing to grumble. We live always and everywhere. We know everything. Always we meditate on this and free ourselves from the lower consciousness and attain higher Divine consciousness.§
As more and more devotees gathered around him, Yogaswami gave them assignments, such as translating into Tamil various works from Sanskrit or English. §
Letters from Near and Far
For Yogaswami, everything was about knowing, or unknowing, who you are. “In the intensity of the moment, you will begin to know who you are.” His flow of teaching this was incessant, no matter where he was. When traveling in India or remote parts of Ceylon, he sometimes sent handwritten letters to close devotees, beaming with insight. These were saved and treasured like gold. Many were published along with his songs in the book called Natchintanai. At the top of each letter he always scribed “Sivamayam” (It is all Siva). In a letter from the hill town of Kandy he wrote: §
Sivamayam
I am here. The train from Colombo has come and is waiting at the station to go to its destination. The train from Badulai also has come and is waiting to go to its destination. All over is tea country. The planter is on his horse supervising the plucking of tea leaves. The nearby stream is trickling eagerly to join the main stream. The world is a wonderful place. Everybody is doing yoga. We are striving and quickening to reach [the goal]. §
One of his favorite penpals was Yogendra Duraisamy, a young man who would later become a Tamil leader in the nation. The letters to the boy Yogendra, then about 9, provide a charming summation of Swami’s profound outlook. Here is one that brims with good advice.§
Sivamayam
Letter to self, who is Yogendra, full of love:
I am with you and you are with me. You are I and I am you. What is it you fear? Look! I am you. Then what must you do? You must feel and show love. To whom? To everyone. In fact, your nature is nothing but love. Not only yourself, but all other things in the universe are overflowing with love. Not all other things, because you are the only one in existence. You are all things. Study well. §
Siva does all. I am you.§
Sivamayam
Yogendra!
This is the New Year’s Day. You will prepare various excellent sweet meats. You will wear silk veshtis. You will whitewash your house. You will go to the temple. You will worship and give offerings. But I shall bathe in the waters of Peace, wear holy ashes which purify the mind, pray evermore for that great wealth known as Contentment, carry the shield of Fearlessness, and, having all these, I shall dance on the bosom of Subrahmanya. §
Never forgetfully,
Yours ...........§
Yogaswami entitled the following letter, written on July 2, 1934, “The Best Kept Secret.”§
Sivamayam
We are all of the same race and religion. Within us there is no change. We are holy beings established in Divinity Itself. All multifarious changes represent the characteristic beauty of Reality. Great souls say that these are maya. This truth can be understood only by those who have grasped it through the magical charm of a life of rectitude, not by others. Because of that, sages have emphatically proclaimed again and again that it is necessary to love all existing lives as one’s own. Therefore everything depends upon the practice of rectitude. By establishing ourselves in this path of rectitude and by constantly imagining that all are ourselves, we come, through wonderful experiences, to the understanding that we are not gross matter, but conscious beings.§
He who never forgets.§
Yogaswami would say, “If you are a king, will you have contentment? If you are a beggar, will you have contentment? Whatever your walk in life may be, you will only have contentment through knowing yourself by yourself.” §
One morning an old man came to visit Yogaswami who was Swami’s same age and had known him for a long time. He was living in an old folks’ home run by the government and subsisting on a small pension. Entering the hermitage, he placed a bunch of bananas at Swami’s feet and prostrated. Swami was clearly happy to see him. This companion had come often, and Swami enjoyed his company. §
“Good morning, old friend,” Swami greeted him. Then they talked for some time about the man’s situation. How had he been? Had he been enjoying good food? Finally, Swami asked him by what means he had traveled. “On the train, Swami,” came the answer. §
“But trains are crowded these days and difficult for an old man like you to climb on and off of. It’s a great deal of trouble for you to travel on the train,” Swami replied. “Oh, Swami, I only think of one thing when I set out to see you, and that carries me along. No difficulties at all coming here.” §
“I know what you mean,” Swami replied, “but traveling is really too much trouble for you, and costly, too, these days. You needn’t come, you know. There are other ways of visiting me.” Swami fell quiet but his friend continued, “Oh, Swami, coming to visit you every few months gives my life a wonderful peace. It is worth any amount of trouble.” §
Swami kept his silence, allowing that conversation to die away completely, then spoke again. “Tell me, old friend, you have lived a long time now, and have lived a good life; do you feel at peace? What stands out in your mind as the most important thing in your life?” §
“You know, Swami, I have given that question a lot of thought these days. Everything that I used to think was important is gone. My family is gone. My friends are gone. My home is gone and my work is finished. My body is old and feeble. Yet I go on the same. I always find love in my heart. I think that probably love is the most important thing in life.” Swami was moved and pleased by the answer. “You and I are the same,” he said. “That’s what I find important, too.” §
After the man left, Swami told those who were gathered around that to have a simple heart, as this man did, is worth more than anything else. “Everything is so simple, but man with his monkey mind and his idea of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ makes a complex mess of it, then blames everyone around him because he cannot see the truth. This man will leave his body in a few days. It will be simple and natural for him. And he has something that he will carry on into his future lives: a fine and simple sense of life. Everything will be easy for him.” The man died a few days later. §
Anyone who came to Swami with an honest and simple heart was well received. When children visited, he would lift them onto his lap and tell those around him, “This child and I are the same age. We speak the same language. And we understand things the rest of you have forgotten.” §
Sometimes he would ask children to sing for him. They would sing the Natchintanai hymns he had composed, and he would join in, perhaps singing in a child’s airy voice. As often as not, he would ask the child if he or she wanted anything, a toy, or something else. If a wish was expressed, he would send out for it immediately. §
He was also stern with children. He told them that the most important thing to learn was obedience. Once he wrote a letter to a boy, advising: “Be obedient. Listen to the advice of your father, mother, elder sisters, younger brother, as well as your uncle, aunt and elder brothers. Always set an example in obedience. Siva does all.” “Oh, it might seem hard,” he would say, “But it is the best way of living in the world. Even I take orders. My orders come from within. Later you, too, will receive orders from within.” §
Most people came like children and were obedient to his orders. He was so close to his devotees that they would rush to tell him when a child was born, sometimes before they told the rest of their family. They would have a special offering ready to take to Swami so that when the child was born they wouldn’t have to stop at a shop, but could go straightaway to see him and receive his blessing for the child. §
Often he would greet these new fathers at his compound gate and shout at them with a twinkle in his eye, “Great news I have for you. A lovely girl named Thiripurasundari was born this morning. Come, let us celebrate.” That, of course, was exactly the news the father was bringing, except that he hadn’t yet named his daughter! Many people in Jaffna received their names from Swami in such ways. §
One Day...
Yogaswami looked after everyone, and nothing was hidden from his inner vision. He knew exactly what was going on in his village, and all over Jaffna for that matter. Very little deserving his attention ever escaped it. A devotee recalls her time with Yogaswami during this period.§
Yogaswami went about like a king. I came to know of him when I married into a family who had taken him as their guru. The first time I saw him was the day after my wedding on the 4th of September 1951. I had not yet met Swami, though he lived very close to our house. §
We had returned from Malaysia after the Second World War. I first saw him on a visit with my husband and my father-in-law, Sir Vaithilingam Duraiswamy, who had known Swami since 1920. We took tea in a flask and fruits on a tray. It was about 7pm when we arrived at the small mud hut with roof thatched with coconut fronds. It was dark inside the hut as I followed my father-in-law and husband. There were no lights, only the camphor burning in front of Swami. When my turn came to fall and pray at his feet, I saw myself looking at a pair of eyes so powerful, as if they saw into you. §
We sat opposite him. He spoke to my father-in-law for a while, then turned his eyes on me and asked, “Can you cook?” I replied, “Yes.” He also gave me a Devaram book of Saint Tirujnanasambandar’s songs. After that, I came to cook for Swami nearly every day. We would often visit him in his hut. He drank his tea from a coconut shell. The shell kept the heat in, and most Jaffna people had them in their house. §
He also came for lunch the three years when my husband was stationed in Jaffna. My husband would read for him. He would say, “If Sorna reads, I can understand.” He had named my husband Sorna and wanted his brothers and sisters to call him by that name. §
The people of Jaffna treated him as their king. He walked about Jaffna, through the paddy fields and palmyra groves, visited houses and scolded people who had to be put right. In my father-in-law’s house, his words were law. Most decisions to be made were put forth to Swami and his conclusion was carried out. §
Swami encouraged everyone to go to the temple. Once on the morning of the annual chariot festival at Nallur Temple, my father-in-law was still asleep, and we could not leave without his permission. It was 7am, and at eight the Lord would come out of the temple. Suddenly we heard Swami shouting in front of the house, “What are you all doing there? Get out and go to the temple! Arumugan comes once a year to bless everyone. Go!” He was no other than Lord Nalluran Himself, ruling his people. He called everyone by name. §
My mother was a great devotee of Lord Nalluran. As we lived close to Nallur Temple, she conducted her day according to the ringing of the temple bells. Getting up at 4am, she would say, “My Nalluran has gotten up.” Swami would often come and sit on one of the verandah chairs. He would look at her as if to say, “Don’t you know me? I am your Nalluran.” He was a strength to the Jaffna people. He was their Nalluran.§
Vithanayar lived near Yogaswami’s hut and knew him his entire life. A sprightly man, he always joked lightheartedly with Yogaswami. “I was with Chellappaswami all those years,” he said. “I saw him push Yoganathan to the side and chase him away. Now suddenly he has everything, and I must come to him!” Yogaswami loved Vithanayar and put up with his eccentric ways. §
Occasionally, he refused to accept things, sometimes asking that food offerings be buried in the yard behind his hut. “Don’t even let the crows eat it,” he shouted. “It’s not fit for the crows to eat!” One day a man came with a tray of offerings. In the middle of the tray was a bag containing five hundred rupees, a goodly amount in those days. Those around watched him present the offering, speculating within themselves what Swami would do, for they all knew the money came from a venture Swami was not in favor of. §
Usually in such cases Swami would not accept it. To add force to the refusal he might even send the tray and its contents sailing through the air with a strong throw. But this time, to everyone’s surprise, he instructed a devotee to distribute it to various people. Some should go to a poor family whose daughter was to be married soon—it would help with the wedding festivities. Some was to be given to an honest man who ran a tea shop. With that money he could add a buttermilk drink to his shop and expand his earnings. (He did just so, and his business grew considerably.) And, Swami instructed, “Save a hundred rupees and take Vithanayar to the doctor. I’ve heard he’s ill. He won’t want to accept the money, so tell him he can pay me back later. Then he will accept.” §
Entering the house, the devotee found Vithanayar sitting in the courtyard. Startled to see him appearing so fit, the man inquired about his health. Vithanayar said everything was fine, so the devotee gave him the money as Swami had instructed, which, true to life, was initially refused but finally accepted under the strict condition that it would be repaid. §
A little unsure of what to do next, the devotee finally decided to return to Swami when Vithanayar’s daughter motioned him aside and said that her father had a high fever and was quite sick, but was simply too stubborn to let on or do anything about it. Understanding this, he told Vithanayar that Swami had ordered him to take him to the doctor. He pleaded, “If you don’t go, I’ll be in trouble with Swami. And you know how that is.” The devotee continued to beg, “Please come with me, just to satisfy Swami. Please come.” §
Vithanayar relented, and they set out to visit the doctor Yogaswami had specified. Examining Vithanayar, the physician scolded the devotee for even moving him, much less bringing him in a car. “He has double pneumonia,” the doctor scolded. But when the man explained the circumstances, he understood. After administering some medication, he gave instructions to take Vithanayar home and put him to bed, adding that he would come by the next morning to check on him. The medicine, an expensive new antibiotic, cost almost exactly the amount Swami had allotted for the visit. §
Swami arranged marriages, named babies, settled family arguments, helped devotees find homes to buy, got them jobs and generally mothered everyone. He kept all of Jaffna on its toes and made sure that people got what they needed and deserved. He gave and gave and gave and gave. He said, “We are in the tradition that gives. We give even to people who don’t deserve anything, to selfish and jealous ones.” §
Inthumathy Amma recorded the testimony of Panchadeharam of Ariyalai, a school teacher who had gained much from his visits to Yogaswami through the years. §
Even though a year had passed since our marriage, my wife and I had no children. Due to financial difficulties, we were not disappointed. Even after two years, we were childless. During this time when we went for his darshan, Gurudeva asked, “You have no children yet, isn’t that so?” We replied, “Yes, Aasan.” Then he plucked a big grape from a bunch, gave it to my wife and said, “Do not give this to anyone. You alone must eat it.” My wife did accordingly. Next month we realized that she was pregnant. Because we had no children for two years, rumors were going ’round the village that we were sterile. Gurudeva realized this and gave us a remedy.§
Whenever possible we went for Gurudeva’s darshan. In those days, he would give us a reply both directly and indirectly for all our woes. The indirect replies came when he would talk about other matters. But there would always be an answer to our prayers. Gurudeva’s darshan made us turn our direction little by little. We began to go to him desiring to traverse the abyss of birth and death and to seek the necessary control of the mind and gain peace. §
In 1963, we had only two opportunities to visit Gurudeva. We went first in April. We then had two children and my wife was expecting the third. We entered the ashram with his permission and fell prostrate at his lotus-like feet. He invited us to sit and then asked the names of our two children. He then inquired, “Where is the other one?” We replied that we had only two children. He laughed with glee, saying, “The other chap is also here.” Yes, the child we were expecting was a son. §
Doctor K. Nithiyanandan tells this story:§
A couple who were devotees of Swami had no children even after ten years of marriage. One Sivaratri day they sat in Swami’s presence and observed the fast. Swami looked at the mother and mentioned a boy’s name. Within a year, that lady gave birth to a boy and gave him the name Swami had mentioned. §
Once a man found himself in serious trouble for embezzling money. For that he was standing trial and was also being charged with other crimes he had nothing to do with. He had spent all his money on prior legal fees and didn’t have enough to pay the lawyer to argue his case, which was coming to trial the next day. In Ceylon, lawyers must be paid before a case is argued. Otherwise, they are not allowed to enter the court on a client’s behalf. §
Throughout the ordeal, his wife had remained faithful and kept the household running on practically nothing. Now, even her ability to do that was strained to the limit. She suggested they go see Swami. They went. When they entered the room, Swami ignored them. The evening went on and not a word or a look came from Swami to the couple. They were deeply concerned, but remained silent. §
Finally, Swami began asking people to go. One by one, he called them to him or simply told them it was time to go. The couple eventually found themselves alone with him. Swami knew the whole story. He also knew the wife, a staunch devotee, was standing behind her husband to the end, true to the best of Hindu tradition. Calling her forward, Swami handed her a bundle of rupees wrapped in a banana leaf. It was enough to pay all the fees. The trial came, and the man won his case. This turn of events and his wife’s benevolent influence caused him to change many of his errant ways. §
The solace that Swami gave was often subtle and indirect. Sri M. Prasad told of how Swami helped ease his mind after an accident that some felt was his fault—a story told in The Sivathondan.§
In 1952 or so when I was stationed in Jaffna as Government Agent, a great religious fair was held on the other side of the lagoon. People went to the fair in great numbers in a motor boat. At the time of the return journey, more people entered the boat than it could safely transport. The conductor in charge of the boat was helpless. Unfortunately the boat sank not far from the shore and several lives were lost. I did all I could to help those injured and offered my profound sympathy to the bereaved persons. §
Some people alleged that the disaster was due to my neglect. I was in great agony of mind. A friend of mine advised me to go and pay my respects to Yogaswamiji. I did so a week after the incident. Swamiji must have known why I had come to him, but he said nothing till I was about to leave his ashram after about twenty minutes. Then he said, “Have no worry. I am your witness.” I cannot describe how consoling and comforting those few words were to me.§
Jananayagam from the UK, who had a lifetime of encounters with Yogaswami’s magical ways, wrote: §
According to the words of the great Saint Tirumular, “Absolute clarity is attained by seeing the guru, by reciting his holy name, by listening to his holy words and visualizing his holy figure.” Guru Yogar Swamy was a legend known to myself and my predecessors for four generations. We are lost for words to describe our fortune to be under his holy surveillance. §
Once, when Swamy was publishing his Saivite magazine, Sivathondan, he asked my mother to write articles and essays. Though the subjects for these articles were suggested or selected by Swamy himself, they subtly fitted the writer. One such article was titled “Once the river has burst its banks, it will not stop even if you cry.” My mother wrote the article and submitted it to Swamy. He asked her to read it in his presence, which she promptly did. In a few days’ time, my mother was pregnant. The entire family was delighted to hear the news and were looking forward to the new arrival after almost twelve years. §
When the baby was born, according to our tradition, we took him to Swamy for his blessing. Swamy was roaming ’round his compound in the form of a ghost, making everyone shiver in anguish. We said, “Swamy, we were blessed with a baby boy and we have brought some sweets.” At once Swamy said, “I will take none of them. Ask your mother to eat them instead.” We returned home with shock, sorrow and disappointment added with fear. In about three weeks the baby died of diarrhea. The article Swamy had asked my mother to write was in fact a warning of what was to follow.§
Sometimes Swami declined to help people and sent them away without even letting them see him. Consider the story of Master Rasiah, the burly police officer who became an ardent follower. Rasiah told of the day he took the train from Colombo to Jaffna, a common trek for Yogaswami’s devotees who worked in the capital. Carrying a satchel of fresh fruits the entire journey, he got off at Columbuthurai and made his way to Swami’s compound. Entering, he greeted his guru and placed the fruits at his feet, prostrated and was invited to sit. Nothing more transpired, yet suddenly Yogaswami ordered him, “Go away! Leave!” §
Rasiah was stunned and physically paralyzed by the order, searching without finding a reason for this dismissal. Yogaswami—seeing no response to his command, and knowing that Sri Lankan policemen undergo a kind of military training—barked like a drill sergeant, “Stand up!” Rasiah obeyed. “About face!” Rasiah turned with practiced precision. “Left, right, left, right” Yogaswami called out the cadence, and Rasiah began marching out the door and into the compound. “Left face,” came the order, “Left, right, left,” as the march approached the gate. “Halt! Open the gate! Left, right. Halt! Close the gate! Right face! Left, right…” and as Yogaswami’s voice grew fainter Rasiah found himself marching down the road, sent away by his guru in a manner that would always puzzle him. Hearing the story, others thought Yogaswami was teaching the disciple a lesson in humility, something they said was not the policeman’s greatest strength. §
S. Shanmugasundaram was close to Yogaswami for decades, an observant man who saw many come and go at the ashram. Years later in California he was asked to share the tales of those experiences with American devotees of Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami. §
Siva Yogaswami never made any distinction between the rich and the poor. The caste or religion of his devotees never bothered him. Nobody could predict how welcome or unwelcome he or she would be in his presence at any time. That remained a mystery. Receiving one with open arms or sending him away saying, “I don’t have time to see you now” were daily occurrences, depending on Swami’s mood. That mood changed in accordance with the purpose of each one’s visit. The highest and the richest in the land as well as the lowliest and the poorest could be seen at Swami’s ashram. Sometimes both categories were driven away, even if they had come from distances of hundreds of miles, but there were also occasions when they were given a hearty welcome. §
One day a man of the highest status, living in the Hill Country area about 200 miles away, came to meet with Swami. He was learned and wealthy. Maybe due to his wealth and status, he did not associate himself freely with others. But he was a devotee of Yogaswami, had visited Swami many times earlier, and Swami had gone to his place and stayed with him for one or two days. §
On this day that man and his wife drove all the way to Jaffna and came to Yogaswami’s hut with a large silver tray full of fruits and a variety of other gifts for Swami. They walked into the hut even before being welcomed by Swami and bent down and placed the tray at Swami’s feet. Just at that moment the couple heard something like thunder. §
Yes, it was Swami talking. With apparent anger in his eyes, Swami shouted at the top of his voice, “Take this away; we don’t need any of these here. You can take them back. I don’t have the time to see you now. Why are you waiting? When I say take them away, I mean it.” §
The poor folks did not expect such treatment. They were shivering with fear and too dumb to speak. They picked up their tray full of things and left the hut in utter silence and abject disgrace. The devotees in the hut felt sorry for them and sympathized. §
After the couple left, Swami enjoyed a loud and hearty laugh. At the end of it he told the devotees, “These fellows came here to ask me to arrange a marriage for their daughter. They have hit upon a young man, but he is not agreeable to the marriage. So they expect me to intervene and finalize it. What a fine joke. I am not a marriage broker! Just see what things they brought to bribe me. They are educated fools.”§
During a pilgrimage to India, Yogaswami visited Ramana Maharishi, the sage of Siva’s Mount Arunachala who had become renowned. Their meeting was remarkable in its simplicity; neither spoke a word—two knowers of the Unknowable in perfect communion.
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Some went to the sage only once or twice. That was all they needed, for he gave them enough in those brief visits for a lifetime. One day a young man stopped at Nallur Temple on his way to see the man people called Yogaswami. After worshiping at Lord Murugan’s shrine, he stood wondering how he would get to Swami’s hut, when Swami drove up in a car, stopped right by him, ordered him to get in, and drove to his hermitage. That day Swami revealed to this man his past, his present and how to live his life henceforth to build the best karma for himself. It was an intense encounter, more than enough for this devotee. For the rest of his life he relished the darshan of that day and followed Swami’s advice to the letter. §
Others were around Swami frequently—as much as possible. He was involved in the very fabric of their lives. Vithanayar was among those under his care. One day Swami heard that he was sick again, and now was probably not strong enough to recover. Swami went to Vithanayar’s house, sang an auspicious song, applied holy ash to his chest and forehead, then returned to his hermitage. Later in the day news came that Vithanayar had passed away. §
Three times Yogaswami took the ferry from Ceylon to India. From Kashi’s Siva temples in the North to Tiruvannamalai and Madras in the South, he explored holy Bharat.
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Once, upon returning from a pilgrimage to India, Swami went to the home of a close devotee of Chellappaswami named Chelliahpillai, whose home Chellappaswami visited for meals many times. The man was on his deathbed, barely holding on to life. Swami teased him, “Sinnathamby (‘younger brother’), why are you still here? You should have left long ago.” Chelliah smiled, “I have my ticket and my suitcase is packed; the train is sitting in the station. I was only waiting for you to come and bid me farewell.” Swami put sacred ash on his forehead, sang to him, then departed. That night the old man left his earthly frame.§
On the Road
Swami moved about, by foot, car or train, all through his later life. He would go to Colombo, to the Eastern Province, or to the up-country to visit devotees. Wherever he went, many people would come to bask in his darshan. When it was heard that he was at this devotee’s house or that, others would come with offerings—coconuts, flowers, fruit, money, books, clothing—anything they thought would please Swami or be of use to him. S. Ampikaipaakan observed, “When Swamigal visited a place, local and nearby people would come to see him. In the place where Swamigal stayed, usually a big homa was done.” §
One time he was visiting a devotee who worked as a foreman on a tea estate in the lush Ceylon hill country. The owner provided this man and his family a house. Although it was adequate, it didn’t have its own toilet. In fact, the family had to go some distance to use one. The foreman had petitioned the estate manager, an Englishman, for permission to build an outhouse behind his home; but his petition had been refused. When the devotee told Swami the story, Swami knew the manager had refused because he feared the project would drain time and energy from the foreman’s plantation work. He had not considered their comfort. §
A devotee, the head of a road building crew, was present as they discussed the predicament. Swami asked if he could build a lavatory at the site in one day. The man, happy to be able to help, answered that he had many coolies working for him and access to all needed materials. If the foreman could pay the cost of materials and labor, yes, he could build the lavatory in one day. Swami chose the exact spot and asked that work begin the next day. That evening it was finished. The estate manager didn’t even notice the little outhouse, and nothing was ever spoken about it. §
Swami journeyed by train frequently. Onboard, he would encounter many fellow travelers. His devotees claim that some of his best help was given as he moved through the coaches, meeting and talking with passengers. §
One day he was on his way to Colombo. About halfway there the northbound train to Jaffna pulled into the station where his train was standing. Without explanation, he jumped off the southbound train and boarded the train to Jaffna. He went straight to a man who had come to see Swami on several occasions and said, “You’re surely in an ugly mood. I could feel your grim thoughts from the other train.” The man confessed that he was thinking of taking his own life. He was besieged by problems and could see no way out other than suicide. §
Swami laughed. “That’s how much you know. That would only be the beginning!” Then he talked the problems out with the man and gave him some strong directives on how to reform his life. Swami’s advice was so sound that, assured by the promise of a better future, the man’s mood turned positive. Swami got down at the next station to catch the train to Colombo. Yogaswami checked on the devotee several times after that to make sure he continued to do all right and had no relapse of depression. §
Scholar Padmasani Rasendiram recorded the following experience in The Sivathondan journal. It seems that Yogaswami, too, held at least one travel-study program, which Sivaya Subramuniyaswami would call Innersearch. §
Yogaswami loved to feed people: guests to his hut, sadhus at the temple, devotees celebrating a festival. He would shop and cook himself or give explicit instructions on what should be bought at the market, which was always full of the local farmers’ fresh produce.
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Once we wanted to travel to India, and with that desire we went to see Swamigal. Swamigal said, “Leave off India, we will go to some place for ten days.” That evening we again went to see Swamigal. Swamigal said, we will just go and stay in a comfortable place. We set out for Ratinapuri and on the way visited a devotee’s house for ten minutes. We did not spend a long time there, as after tea he wanted to leave. From there, we straightly went to Peliguloya. There an overseer had made all arrangements for us. We stayed in the Village Association Building. Devotees from Colombo, Palangotai, Ratinapuri came and assembled there. Both morning and evening we recited Siva Puranam, Devarams and Tiruvasagam, and at other times we listened to Swamigal’s discourses. For ten days, there, it was very enjoyable. Swamigal gave advice to all according to their need and maturity.” §
At age sixty, in 1932, Yogaswami developed a small lump on his cheek. Doctors wanted to remove it, but Swami refused. Years later, he agreed to be tested, and the growth was found to be cancerous. The doctors urged him to go to the hospital in Colombo for radiation therapy and further tests. Swami refused. Instead he applied oil from crushed cotton seeds in the presence of Dr. S. Ramanathan, who was aghast: “Swami! Swami! It is poisonous. Why are you applying it on your cheek?” Swami laughed, “Doctor! The treatment is over and now I am OK.” Yogaswami undertook a fast of milk and rice, and the combination of it all effected a cure. §
There were other health issues in his life. Swami enjoyed an occasional short cheroot (the name of a non-tapered cigar that originally comes from the Tamil suruttu, and thence into French as cheroute). Beginning in the early 1940s, he smoked one each morning while using the latrine. He developed diabetes in the same decade. In the early stages, he took only herbal medicines. Beginning in 1950, he received insulin injections daily, administered by his devotee-doctors who came to his hut.§
Yogaswami went on three pilgrimages to India, in 1934, 1940 and 1946, taking a few devotees with him each time. They went on the six-temple Murugan yatra in South India and to the massive, renowned Siva temples of Madurai and Chidambaram. They walked long distances together and met many spiritual luminaries. §
On one pilgrimage, Yogaswami visited Sri Ramanashram in Tiruvannamalai to be with another great guru, Sri Ramana Maharishi, born in 1879, seven years after Yogaswami. Many people think of these two men as the greatest and purest of 20th century Hindu teachers. The two sat in silence for an hour in Sri Ramana’s austere room near the holy mountain. Nor was a word exchanged when they met or parted. §
After hearing that Yogaswami had visited Sri Ramana, people were eager to find out what had transpired. Swami told them, “We said all there is to say.” Later he added, “We did not go with any desire. Summa we went. We stayed for about an hour. He did not speak at all. He is a great hero (mahaviran).” By “summa,” Swami meant “perfect stillness, communion in silence.” §
Families felt blessed on those rare occasions when Yogaswami handed them a spiritual poem, often composed specifically for their spiritual guidance. These were dutifully saved over the decades, and later gathered into a book called Natchintanai.
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On each journey, after his fellow pilgrims had been with him for two or three weeks, Swami would send them back to Jaffna and continue on his own, traveling all over India. On the 1940 pilgrimage, he journeyed to Madras, Calcutta, Bombay, Benares and elsewhere with Station Master Rasiah of Nuwara Eliya. Benares, also known as Kasi, is sacred to Siva, located on the Ganges River. Hindus come here to die, be cremated and have their ashes consigned to this sacred river that is said to flow from the head of Siva. In Kasi, on November 3, Yogaswami penned the following letter. §
After wandering far in an earnest quest, I came to Kasi and, lo, I saw the Lord of Kasi—Viswanathan—within my heart. Let not your hearts be troubled by wearisome pursuits. There is a fine saying that the herb that you have been searching for assiduously lies at your feet within easy reach. In this place, too, men live very much in the same manner as our people. There is nothing wonderful, nothing mysterious in this world. In this holy city of Benares, I have performed the rites and obsequies most solemnly for my countrymen who have lived in bygone yesterdays, and to those of today and even of the morrow. From henceforth, live in obedience to your inner spirit imbued with love for one another; and live in harmony with the world under the protecting shelter of His feet. §
In the Sunday Observer (February 20, 1983), C.S. Dharmarajah wrote about Swami after that pilgrimage.§
On his return, Swami—with his effulgent face, penetrating eyes, silvery, flowing beard, holy ash on his forehead, his waist cloth of white cotton, hair tied in a knot and an umbrella under his arm—could daily be seen leaving his ashram at the crack of dawn, trudging many miles, invariably declining offers of car lifts on the way, and returning to his abode in the evening. §
There he sat cross-legged on a wooden plank, with devotees gathered in singles and in groups, in that room that accommodated only the few at a time, meting out his sanctifying grace with homely discourses that veiled his divinity, occasionally singing the praises of his guru—to each according to his need and understanding.§
Yoga swami’s writings were a rare synthesis of simplicity and profundity, truth told in its simplest and most approachable form. Many times he simply spoke or sang them, to be captured by diligent devotees who recognized the preciousness of his utterances.
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Swami never stopped traveling, even when he stayed close to home. He walked all over the Jaffna peninsula time and time again. This land of his is quite arid, and if it had not rained for a long time and the crops were suffering, people would come to him. “Swami, there has been no rain for months. My fields are ready, but I can’t plant my rice crop until we get some rain. It’s nearly too late.” §
Soon Swami would be seen storming about the peninsula, striding through the dry rice paddies, shaking his fist at the clouds and scolding them for not releasing their gift of rain. “What are you doing, not raining? My people will starve, and you just sit up there doing nothing. My people need to eat; I order you to help them.” Soon the clouds would darken and the life-giving rains would come. This happened not infrequently, and a certain amount of fame devolved on Swami for his uncanny ability to influence the forces of nature in this way. §
S. Shanmugasundaram recounted the following story of rain-making in Batticaloa.§
One fine day Swami motored to a town called Vavuniya, 90 miles south of Jaffna. As soon as he reached the town, he stopped at a restaurant for a cup of tea. Almost everyone in the area recognized him, and talk went around that Yogaswami was in town. Within half an hour, about one hundred people, all of them farmers, collected around him. They complained that they had not had the usual seasonal rain and their crops were withering. If they did not have a good shower in a day or two, the crops would die off. §
Swami heard this pathetic story and meditated for a few minutes. Then he sang a series of Natchintanai hymns, starting with the words “Nalla malai peiyyaatho, naadu siravaatho, ellorum inputtru vaalaaro,” (“Won’t there be good rain, won’t this land improve, won’t everyone live happily?”). At the end of the tenth verse, clouds gathered and rains started falling. In half an hour, there was such a heavy downpour that everyone felt happy and relieved.§
The typical Jaffna home that Yogaswami visited was built for the tropics, with coconut tree beams, tile roof, dung or concrete floors, wood-burning stove and an open well in the back for water. Guests were frequent, showing up without notice and always looked after with unstinting hospitality.
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