Bhattarya: The Child Prodigy of Srirangam

We now turn to the remarkable life of Parasara Bhattarya, or simply Bhattarya, the son of Kuresa.

Kuresa had two sons, Bhattarya and Vyasa. Sri Ranganatha Himself commanded that the two little brothers be brought to the temple, where He adopted them as His own sons. Their cradles were swung in the Lord's own chamber, called the Manattun. Sri Ranganatha and His consort Lakshmi cared for them in every way. The Lord decreed that before He accepted the daily food offerings, the children should be served first — or be allowed to toddle freely to the dishes spread before Him and help themselves.

One day, food was placed before Sri Ranganatha as the special offering of the reigning king. As usual, the children moved about freely and helped themselves. The priests, offended at the children's conduct, handled them roughly and sent them outside the temple. That night the Raja had a dream. The Lord appeared to him and said: "I had just begun to taste your offering. The priests interfered with my children, the Bhattars, and prevented them from having their share. I could no longer take the food. Today I am displeased with you." The Raja awoke, inquired, and found the dream to be true. He at once ordered that services be conducted in the manner most pleasing to the Lord.

Bhattarya was now five, already showing signs of extraordinary intelligence. One day, his father Kuresa was reciting the decad of St. Nammazhvar beginning with Nedumark-adimal (viii.10.1), which praises the greatness of God's saints. In the third verse appears the phrase siru-ma-manisar — "God's saints are small-great."

The boy, listening attentively, stopped his father. "Father, how can a thing be both small and great at the same time?"

"My dearest! What an unexpected question from a little boy like you! To explain this by the Sastras (scriptures) would be difficult. Let me try another way. Do you see our sages of Srirangam — Siriy-acchan, A.P. Emberumanar, and others? They are small in stature, yet very great in knowledge and wisdom. So you see how 'small' and 'great' can harmoniously meet in one and the same thing." The young questioner was satisfied.

Another incident soon revealed his genius. A learned man named Sarvajna-Bhatta, proud of his scholarship after debating victories in Varanasi and elsewhere, arrived at Srirangam. To display his greatness he had himself paraded through the streets in a sedan chair, with followers proclaiming his title — Sarvajna, meaning "the all-knowing."

Bhattarya, then playing with dust in the street, heard the title ring in his ears and grew indignant. "What! While we have all-knowing giants like Bhagavad Ramanuja, Kuresa, Dasarathi, and Devarat among us, who dares call himself Sarvajna?" He scooped up a handful of dust, ran up to the sedan, and called out mockingly: "Hello, sir, stop! If you are all-knowing, tell me how much dust I hold in my hand."

The Pandit, confounded by the boy's sudden question, could not answer. "I see," said the boy, "you are dumbfounded by a mere child's question. Could you not have said, 'You have a handful of dust'? You do not deserve the title 'all-knowing.'" He then turned to the attendants and told them never again to parade their poor master so pompously, urging them to put down the insignia and stop blowing the trumpets.

The Pandit's astonishment turned to wonder. He asked the bystanders whose son this prodigy was. "He is the son of Kuresa," they said, "the soul of our Guru Ramanuja, the pontiff of our faith." Sarvajna exclaimed, "The beginner surely flies, not creeps," and lovingly lifted the little marvel into his sedan as the procession moved on toward Kuresa's house.

Pon-naycchiyar (also called Kanakamba), the good wife of Dhanurdasa, was standing at the door. Seeing the boy seated beside a stranger, she rushed up, drew him from the sedan, covered him with her garment, and carried him inside while muttering the Dvaya-mantra (the sacred two-line Sri Vaishnava mantra). She placed him in the arms of his mother Andalamma and chided her for letting such a gem stray out and be exposed to evil eyes. She sprinkled him with Bhagavad Ramanuja's Sri-pada water (water sanctified by the Acharya's feet) to ward off evil influences, fearing in her heart that such a prodigy might not be permitted to remain long on earth.

By the age of eight, Bhattarya's Upanayana (sacred-thread ceremony) was duly performed, and he was sent to school to learn the Vedas. On the second day he found the teacher repeating the previous day's lesson, so he simply left and went to play. His parents questioned him.

"I did attend, father, but they were reading the same lessons again. So I left."

"Did you learn the lesson in one day?" Kuresa asked.

"Yes."

"Then let me hear it."

The boy recited the lesson flawlessly, even in the difficult Vedic intonations — udatta, anudatta, and svarita. His brilliance alarmed his parents, who thought to delay his formal education. In time he mastered every branch of learning, with Kuresa and Govinda personally instructing him in the artha and tatva (meaning and principle) Sastras.

Although Sri Ranganatha and Lakshmi were Bhattarya's adoptive parents, as he grew up he was taught to adore them as God and Goddess of the cosmos. One day, visiting the temple during a quiet moment after worship, Sri Ranganatha in feigned anger bade him leave. Bhattarya walked a few paces, then obeyed when called back.

"When you came to us just now, what did you think of us?" asked the Lord.

"As God and Goddess of the universe, my Lord."

"And before this — what did you think of us?"

"As my Father and Mother."

"Think of us in that relation always. That pleases us more than being worshipped as God and slave."

From this we understand that God seeks men's hearts more than their heads.

Around this time a Smarta (non-Vaishnava Advaita) Pandit decided to test Bhattarya. Entering his house, he asked how a Vaishnava is distinguished from a Smarta. Rather than enter a lengthy controversy on this bone of contention between the two great Brahmana divisions, Bhattarya simply drew attention to the Chakra (discus) and Sankha (conch) marks inscribed on his arms — a sacrament prescribed by the Sastras for all Vaishnavas.

"But what scriptural authority justifies you to adopt this custom?" asked the Pandit.

"Sir, one authority we both accept will suffice. Have you not learnt the first sutra of the Apastambha-Dharma, which says that the practices of our wise elders are our best authority, followed only then by the Vedas? My father Kuresa followed it, and therefore I do. Is this enough? Do you not also follow in the footsteps of your elders?"

The Pandit was silenced and went his way.

With his studies complete, it was time to find Bhattarya a bride. Kuresa had left his kin in the Kanchi land and adopted Srirangam as his home. When the marriage question arose, he approached Bhagavad Ramanuja:

"Sire, I have no relations in these parts, and those who might offer a girl are of a lower rank. What shall we do?"

It was a grave social question for the time. Bhagavad Ramanuja said, "We have Mahapurna and his people. We must choose from them." They applied to that clan, but they refused, citing the hard-and-fast barriers dividing clan from clan.

Bhattarya was advancing in years. His mother Andalamma was distraught. But Kuresa spoke to her calmly: "Do not worry. You know that our children belong to Sri Ranganatha? I have resigned them to His care. Let His will be done." He then went to the temple, laid the case before the Lord, and returned home.

That very night, Mahapurna's relatives had a dream in which Sri Ranganatha commanded them to form a marital alliance with Kuresa without delay. Rising, they voluntarily offered what they had refused the day before. Two maidens, Akkachi and Manni, were gladly given in marriage to Bhattarya. A hard social question was thus solved, and Kuresa became a grandfather in line.