Dhanurdasa: Love Turned from a Maiden to the Lord

In the last chapter we met Kanakamba, who stood at Kuresa's door, and her husband Dhanurdasa. Both became disciples of Bhagavad Ramanuja. How this came to pass is the subject of this chapter.

In Nichulapuri — modern Uraiyur near Trichinopoly — lived Dhanurdasa (known in Tamil as Pillai-Uranga-villi-dasar), so called because he was a fine athlete and archer. To his caste-men he looked as terrible as death. He loved a beautiful girl named Kanakamba so intensely that he never left her side nor took his eyes off her moonlike face.

When the Chaitra (spring) festivities of Sri Ranganatha came round, Kanakamba wished to witness them. Her lover would not let her go alone; he walked beside her holding his coverlet over her head, anxious that not even a ray of sun should touch her lovely face.

Bhagavad Ramanuja was returning from his bath in the Kaveri, surrounded by his disciples, on his way to join the procession of Sri Ranganatha. His eye fell upon the pair, and he marvelled at the man's intense care.

"Sons, look at this curious scene! He pays such attention to a courtesan! A man may be blind with love for a girl, but usually he keeps it secret. Here the love is openly paraded. Yet it is interesting to see how blind love can be. Let me try to turn this man's love from the girl to Sri Ranganatha."

He set a few disciples to find where the couple lived. Upon receiving word, he summoned Dhanurdasa and asked, with gracious looks, who he was and what had brought him to Srirangam.

Ramanuja's kind gaze fell on him like a spell. Dhanurdasa bowed, explaining that he lived in Uraiyur, was a renowned athlete, and had come to Srirangam for darshan of Sri Ranganatha.

"Will you allow me, son, to rebuke you for your public breach of decency? You call yourself a strong athlete — how then do you indulge in shameless love-making on the open road?"

Dhanurdasa felt the rebuke but answered simply: "Holy Sir, how can I help it? She is so lovely. Her eyes are more beautiful than the lotus. My heart and those eyes are one. How can those charming eyes bear even the slightest exposure to the sun? If they fade, my heart would burst. This is the truth, O Saint. Now tell me if I am wrong."

Bhagavad Ramanuja listened in silence, then said with pity, "But, son, if I could show you better eyes than those?"

"Ah, Sire," interrupted Dhanurdasa, "that would be a great gain to me, by your favour."

"Come then at once." He led Dhanurdasa into the temple and, pointing to the reclining form of Sri Ranganatha on His couch of Adi Sesha (the primal serpent), said: "Look at those bewitching eyes. They are the eyes of Sri Ranganatha, the Father of this universe. Look steadily and study their beauty."

Dhanurdasa gazed, and saw something extraordinary and divine. He could neither move from the spot nor tear his eyes from the vision. He was, as it were, completely transfixed. "God's grace has descended on this man," Bhagavad Ramanuja murmured as he left for his monastery.

From that day Dhanurdasa gave up food and sleep, remaining in the temple with straining eyes fixed on the Lord. When at last Bhagavad Ramanuja sent for him and asked how he felt, he replied, "Master! How can I thank you enough for the bliss into which you have steeped a wretch like me? Make me your slave and complete the work of salvation you have taken up."

Bhagavad Ramanuja smiled, conferred upon him the sacramental Panchasamskara (the five Vaishnava initiations), and accepted him into his fold. Kanakamba, hearing all this, came trembling with repentance and begged to be received as well. Bhagavad Ramanuja accepted her, joined them anew as wife and husband, and allowed both to serve in his math (monastery). It is recorded that the wife even excelled her husband in wisdom and spiritual perfection through the grace of Bhagavad Ramanuja's holy feet. Like Hanuman to Sri Rama, so this pair served the Acharya.

So transformed was Dhanurdasa that he became Bhagavad Ramanuja's dearest favourite. Though of a lower caste, he received rare privileges. Often the Acharya was seen returning from his river bath leaning on Dhanurdasa's shoulder — though on the way to the bath he leaned on Dasarathi, a Brahmana. Since a Brahmana is ritually unclean before the bath and clean after, this reversed the conventional order. It disturbed the Brahmana disciples.

They finally dared to ask for an explanation. Bhagavad Ramanuja said: "O Vaishnavas, have you not heard that learning, riches, and high birth swell a fool with pride but adorn the wise? Dhanurdasa is utterly free of this threefold vice; you are not. Therefore it is fitting that I touch him and lean on him."

The disciples bent their heads in shame but dared not protest. Yet secretly, malice kindled in their hearts against Dhanurdasa — that a Sudra should stand so high, endangering the prestige of Brahmanas.

Bhagavad Ramanuja, aware of this, resolved to cure them of what he considered a spiritually fatal disease. Privately he ordered an intimate disciple to take away, at night, all the clothes of the objectors while they slept — for it was the custom to wash clothes daily and hang them up to dry. When the disciples woke and found their clothes missing, they fell to quarreling and raising a loud hubbub.

Bhagavad Ramanuja watched, smiled, and called them to order. He condoned their loss and told them to wait patiently for better fortune.

Some time later, one night he called Dhanurdasa aside and engaged him in conversation. Then, summoning the aggrieved Brahmanas within Dhanurdasa's hearing, he said: "Sons, I remember well your grief at losing your clothes. I will now more than compensate you. Dhanurdasa will be kept here with me. Go unobserved to his house. It is late — you will find his wife Kanakamba fast asleep. She wears many precious jewels. Go and quietly strip them from her."

The Brahmanas stole into Dhanurdasa's house. They found Kanakamba fast asleep, decked in finery. They softly removed every jewel from one side as she lay. She awoke at the first touch but only half-opened her eyes, then closed them again, lest the Vaishnavas flee in fright. Nor did she move a limb, for she saw they were Vaishnavas whom she loved and revered. She was glad they were taking what was really theirs — for whatever she owned she considered held in trust for them. (This is how property is to be spiritually viewed; and, as noted, Kanakamba excelled even her husband in spiritual perfection.)

When every jewel on one side was removed, she grew anxious that they should not go away with only half the work done. She gently rolled onto her other side, as if in sleep. This movement frightened the thieves, who fled.

Seeing them return, Bhagavad Ramanuja sent Dhanurdasa home, it now being late. Then he took the jewels from the Brahmanas and told them to quietly follow Dhanurdasa and report whatever happened.

At home, Kanakamba rose to welcome her husband. Dhanurdasa was startled to see her bare of ornaments on one side and adorned on the other.

"What is this, lady?"

"Nothing wrong, lord. I shall explain and you will be pleased. The Brahmanas, who are our Gurus, came and took all the jewels on my right side. Our possessions are theirs, as you know. To let them have all, I gently rolled onto my left side. But despite my care, they took fright and, to my great regret, ran away."

Dhanurdasa flew at her in rage. "Foolish woman! You have spoiled the work. It was your duty to lie perfectly still. If the jewels were theirs, they were free to take them their own way. Instead you moved just when they had done half. Had you been perfectly still they might have turned you themselves. Half your jewels are well invested; the other half is vanity." Half-consoled, he went to sleep with his thoughts fixed on the holy feet of Bhagavad Ramanuja.

The eavesdropping Brahmanas returned and reported every word. Bhagavad Ramanuja addressed them: "Men, do you see? Some fellows took your clothes and you fell to quarreling, raising such an inglorious uproar. Here is Dhanurdasa, whose mind was not disturbed in the least though he lost many valuable jewels. Tell me, whose wisdom is greater — yours or his? Know then that caste is of no importance. Virtue is what is prized."

The disciples were crestfallen and silent. The next morning he sent for Dhanurdasa, drew from him the story, and returned his jewels with blessings. Dhanurdasa never refused what was given to him, for to refuse the Guru would be improper — unquestioning obedience to the spiritual preceptor is among the foremost canons of Sri Vaishnavism, and he observed it to the letter.

Dhanurdasa's regenerate life was full of such incidents. Periya-Vacchanpillai, in his commentary on St. Nammazhvar's Tiruviruttam (verse 99, Inacchol), records that when Kuresa read the Tiruvaymozhi and Dhanurdasa heard it, he melted into tears. Kuresa said: "Beloved Dhanurdasa! We are famed as clever dialectic gymnasts on knotty questions of philosophy, but none of us can claim the privilege of your birth, which brings you such a love-lorn heart that we struggle hard to possess."

The 36,000-verse commentary on Tiruvaymozhi (VII-4-1, Azhi) says that Dhanurdasa was called Mahamati (great-minded) by the worthies of Srirangam. His love for Sri Ranganatha was so intense that whenever the Lord was taken in procession, Mahamati walked before Him with his sword drawn, ready to strike down anyone who dared offend the Deity. Vidura of the Mahabharata was called Mahamati because his love for Sri Krishna made him personally examine the seat he had prepared in his house, lest some unnoticed danger lurk there. "Mahamati" literally means the force of wisdom blinded by love for God — and Dhanurdasa was love-blind enough to fear danger for the One who is above all dangers.

Kanakamba proved an exemplary devotee, looking on Bhagavad Ramanuja as her sole savior. One day a number of disciples approached her, confessing their doubts: many teachers had given them spiritual knowledge and moral training — was it right to look on Bhagavad Ramanuja alone as Saviour, when others too had a share in the work?

Kanakamba said nothing. She simply gathered all her locks together, tied them up in a knot with a red thread, and kept silent. The disciples understood. The many black hairs signified many teachers — but the saviour was Bhagavad Ramanuja alone, the red thread binding them all together. He crowned them all and united in his own person the functions of all the lesser teachers before and after him. The disciples marveled at her steadfast loyalty and went away, congratulating her on her spiritual eminence.