Chola's Persecutions — Kuresa and Mahapurna Lose Their Eyes

Sri Ramanuja had made his home at Sri Narayanapura (Melukote) in the Mysore country for twelve long years. All this time he had received no news of Srirangam, the holy town he had been forced to flee because of the Saivite king Krimikantha-Chola's persecutions.

One day a Sri Vaishnava arrived at Melukote and fell flat before Sri Ramanuja in reverence. Lifting him up, Ramanuja asked eagerly, "Is all well with Lord Ranga and His holy affairs?"

"All is well, Sir," the traveler replied, "except that you are very much missed."

With a fluttering heart Ramanuja asked, "And how did Kuresa and Mahapurna fare when they were forced to appear before the apostate Chola?"

The traveler began his account. Kuresa and Mahapurna had been brought into the king's presence and commanded to sign a written declaration: "No higher power than Siva exists."

Kuresa answered with citation after citation from the Vedas, Upanishads, Smritis, and Puranas, showing that —

The king heard him out, then said angrily, "You are a clever man, and you can twist the scriptures to suit your own prejudices. I will hear no more. Here is my circular: There is none higher than Siva. Sign it without another word."

Kuresa took the paper. Before signing, he wrote above the decree the phrase:

Dronam asthi tatah param — "But a drona is higher than that."

Joined with the king's line Sivat parataram nasti ("There is nothing higher than a siva"), the two formed a Sanskrit couplet: "There is nothing higher than a siva; but a drona is higher than that." A siva is a small measure of grain; a drona is a larger measure. Kuresa had turned the king's creed into a joke about measuring cups.

The king flew into a rage. "Pluck out the eyes of this daring jester!"

"You need not take that trouble," Kuresa replied. "I will do it myself. My eyes have no business remaining after having looked upon a sinner like you." And with his own hands, this martyr for the Vaishnava faith tore out his eyes, stunning every person in the hall.

The king turned next to the old acharya Mahapurna. "Will you sign, or not?"

Mahapurna refused, again citing the scriptures. The king's soldiers seized him and plucked out his eyes as well. Then both were driven from the palace.

Blood streamed from Mahapurna's empty sockets; the pain can only be imagined. Mahapurna's daughter, Attuzhay-ammal, had followed the two martyrs unseen. When they stumbled out of the palace drenched in blood, she ran to them, took them by the hand, led them away, and did what she could to staunch the bleeding and comfort them.

Kuresa was in the prime of life and had a strong will. He steadied himself with this reflection: "O God, what grace You have shown by choosing me as Your vessel — to give eye for eye, the second eye being the eye of faith, the Vaishnava faith."

But Mahapurna was old and frail. The pain was more than his body could bear. He lay down in an open field, his head resting on Kuresa's lap, his feet on his daughter's.

"Holy Sir," they cried, "what cruel fate has befallen us, and you in particular? Your birthplace is Srirangam, your God is Ranga, your disciple is Ramanuja himself — and yet destiny has ordained your grave in an out-of-the-way field near Gangaikonda-chozha-puram. Does this grieve you?"

Mahapurna answered gently: "My beloved children, have you not heard that 'wherever a Vaishnava happens to die, there God is present with him' — even as Blessed Rama was present at the dying of Jatayu in the wilderness? And have you not heard that 'the best place for a Vaishnava to die is on a Vaishnava's lap or in a Vaishnava's house'? Besides, this is holy land — our ancestors Nathamuni and Kurugai-kaval-appan also breathed their last here. If we grieve that we did not die at Srirangam itself, our descendants will think that salvation requires death at Srirangam alone. No — our rule is that a soul surrendered to God (a prapanna) may meet death anywhere and still be certain of God's presence."

So speaking, Mahapurna departed, his last thoughts lovingly fixed on his own Guru Yamunacharya, and sped into the bosom of God.

(The place called Pasupati Koil, about seven miles from Kandiyur in the Tanjore District, is pointed out as the spot where Mahapurna breathed his last.)

Some travelers passed and called out, "You there — you have a corpse. We help those who are abandoned by all, as you evidently are."

"Sirs," Kuresa replied, "God is with us. Go on your way and help those who are truly abandoned." They left, in search of anatha pretas (helpless corpses). Soon afterward Sri Vaishnavas of Kuresa's own faith arrived, and with their help Mahapurna was cremated by the special rite called Brahma-medha.

Kuresa was then led to shelter. After some rest he was brought to Srirangam by night marches, to avoid the king's spies. He spent his days grieving — lamenting that he had been denied the privilege of dying beside the venerable Mahapurna.

One day Kuresa wished to visit Lord Ranga for the first time since all this tragedy. Blind, he groped his way slowly to the shrine. But the king had decreed that no follower of Ramanuja might enter the temple. As Kuresa approached, the guards said, "Sir, our orders are strict — no disciple of Ramanuja may enter. But you are a good man; we will make an exception. Come in, but first say aloud that you have split from Ramanuja."

Kuresa closed his ears. "Good guards, what am I hearing? If I must renounce Ramanuja to enter, then I would sooner give up this God Ranga. Without Ramanuja, no God exists for me." And he groped his way back, bent with grief, fell to the ground, and wept — repeating the holy verses of the saints. Soon afterward he left Srirangam with his two children for Tirumalirunjolai (near Madurai), to live out his days there in sorrow and solitude.

Such was the guest's tale. It fell on Ramanuja like molten lead poured into his ears. He held himself in at first, but at last his grief burst out; he dropped to the ground like a felled tree and rolled in the dust, wetting it with burning tears. His disciples gathered round and did their best to console him. He resigned himself at last, thanking God that at least Kuresa was alive and could yet be seen — though the thought of the lost eyes was unbearable.

Because Mahapurna had been his guru, Ramanuja performed all the post-death sacraments, including Srichurna paripalana, and dedicated memorial verses to him.

He then called his disciple M. M. Andan to his side and sent him to Srirangam with condolences for Kuresa, with instructions to bring back news of everything. Ramanuja himself threw himself more vigorously than ever into his Vedanta discourses.

About this same time, Goshthi-purna, one of Ramanuja's gurus, also died. His disciples asked him what his last thoughts were. He said he was dwelling on his own Guru Yamunacharya's verse:

So saying, Goshthi-purna passed on. His son Terk-Azhvar performed the rites, and memorial verses were dedicated to him.

Tirumalai-Andan, Tiruvarangapperumal-Araiyar, Srisailapurna, and Kanchipurna — Ramanuja's other gurus — also ascended to the Eternal Regions about this time. Memorial verses were dedicated to each of them as custom required.

Two remembered incidents speak to the sanctity of Kanchipurna.

One dark night, after he had finished his services to Lord Varada, Kanchipurna needed a torch-bearer to light his way home. The temple torch-bearer, Arulalan, pleaded fatigue and slipped away to sleep. Kanchipurna set out alone. But as soon as he crossed the temple gate, a torch-bearer appeared with a lit torch and walked him home. He was grateful that Arulalan had evidently changed his mind.

The next morning, when Kanchipurna came to the temple, the real Arulalan ran up with a look of great repentance and fell at his feet, begging pardon for having refused him the previous night. Kanchipurna was astonished — until it flashed upon him that it must have been Lord Varada Himself (whose Tamil name is also Arulalan) who had played the torch-bearer. Overjoyed at this sign of God's love for His humble devotees, he dismissed the real Arulalan with forgiveness.

A second tradition says that Arulalan was Kanchipurna's favorite, and that Kanchipurna daily gave him the remains of the food he himself had received from Lord Varada. One day a leaf from the meal served to Arulalan was later found inside one of the sacred vessels in the sanctum. Temple officials were alarmed and prepared a great purificatory ceremony. But Lord Varada declared He would permit no such ritual — Arulalan was His dear servant, and Kanchipurna so holy, that the leaf touched by both was sanctified; He would rather the day's food be served to Him on that very leaf. And so it was done, with no purification.

Ramanuja had come to know of Kanchipurna's extraordinary sanctity and the esteem in which Lord Varada held him. That is why he had been so eager to eat food first tasted by Kanchipurna; and it was for this very purpose that he had once invited Kanchipurna to his house — a design thwarted, as we remember, by the indiscretion of his wife.