Kuresa Passes Away — The Elder Brother Goes First

Tradition now takes up the closing episodes in the life of that exemplary disciple and martyr, Sri Kuresa. He was the greatest asset of Ramanuja's life — and his exit from the world's stage comes before his master's.

By this time Sri Ramanuja must have been about 110 years old, perhaps more. As bold as ever in his championship of Vaishnavism, his strength and zeal were still unflagging. Living now as a recluse in quiet seclusion, he was imparting the quintessence of his doctrine to his crowds of disciples.

One day Kuresa went alone to visit Lord Ranganatha. "You seem to have something in your heart to tell Me," said the Lord. Gifted poet that he was, Kuresa broke into praise in the form of a splendid Sanskrit verse, which he then expounded at length in his own commentary. The Lord was so pleased that He pressed Kuresa to ask any favor. Kuresa humbly said that every favor had already been granted him; there was nothing more to ask.

"No," said the Lord. "Ask once more — and ask for more. If not for yourself, then for the love I bear to My beloved Spouse Sri, and for the love I bear to My Ramanuja."

Kuresa then submitted his wish: that he be released from the prison of the body and gathered to the Lord's feet.

"Ask for something else," said the Lord. But Kuresa replied that he could think of nothing else.

"Let it be so, then," said the Lord. "What you ask shall be not only a boon for you, but a boon conferred on every one who has any kind of relation with you."

Receiving this promise, Kuresa walked out of the sanctum with the bearing of a crown prince destined shortly to take his throne in the Kingdom of Paramapada. Instead of going home, he took shelter in his father Azhvar's house. Word soon reached Ramanuja of what had happened. Agreeably startled, he stood up and flung his upper garment into the air — a gesture of infinite joy.

A disciple who watched this, not understanding, asked him to explain. "My faithful one," Ramanuja said, "I too have a relation with Kuresa. My own salvation — about which I may have had doubts — is thus made safe and sure."

This explains the important consequence of the spiritual bond between master and disciple: saving power belongs to a qualified disciple in regard to his master, just as it belongs to a qualified master in regard to his disciple.

But Ramanuja's joy soon gave way to grief at the impending separation from his dearest disciple — Sri Kuresa, whose like there was no other. He left the mutt with all his assembly to meet Kuresa, who had taken refuge in the saint's shrine.

They met. Ramanuja chided Kuresa for having done such a thing without first taking counsel with him. Kuresa kept silent.

"Why do you not speak, Azhvan?" asked Ramanuja. "What was your purpose in asking the Lord to let you go to Paramapada before me?"

"Holy Sire," Kuresa said at last, "my object was to preserve the proper order."

"Speak not in puzzles, beloved. Explain."

"Sir — the hymn Mudiyudai tells us that the angels who are our elders in Heaven come out of its gates to welcome their younger brothers when they arrive from here. But this is not right; younger ones should go and welcome the elders. That is the order I wish to preserve. So I go first, to welcome my master when he comes."

"My most beloved," said Ramanuja, "you forget the rule in Paramapada — that all differences and distinctions disappear in Heaven. Yet you wish to maintain the relation of master and disciple that exists here. In all the spheres, is there another soul to match you?"

He could not hold back his tears. But seeing that Kuresa had little time, he checked himself, came closer, hugged him to his bosom, and whispered into his ear the Holy Dvaya-Mantra. Turning to the onlookers whose curiosity had been roused, he explained: "Understand me, sirs. Our Kuresa needs no sacrament of any kind. The Dvaya is his daily nourishment. I must serve it to him for the last time."

"Dear son — beloved Azhvan," Ramanuja said, turning back to Kuresa, "you are my very soul — how can I part with you? Can you not be kind to your master? Take him with you to Heaven. Why leave him behind to suffer the cruel pangs of separation? How can you enjoy Heaven without him?"

(On page 2527 of Volume V of the Telugu edition of the Bhagavadvishaya, the conversation is recorded thus: "While I am still here, son, how were you so anxious for Heaven?" "Sir," said Kuresa, "in the depth of my thoughts for the miseries of earthly existence, I forgot this point. Pray forgive me." Ramanuja said, "If Lord Ranga could grant you a boon, He could grant me one too. I will go and ask Him to stop you there." He went a few paces toward the shrine, but stopped abruptly and reflected: "God's will is unalterable. What audacity to go and force Him to change it? I have sinned. Let me submit and be resigned to the inevitable." So saying, he turned back.)

"How can I exist here without you? Alas, the Lord in Heaven has drawn you away, though our Lord Ranganatha here has every attraction. Will you sever yourself even from your Ranga?

"Ranga — to lose you! But let me not change your mind, my dearest. Be it as you wish. All hail to you, my son — go, go to the Blessed Eternal Kingdom, and rule there in eternal peace and bliss!"

So saying, Ramanuja drew him closer in an embrace and stroked his back fondly. "Azhvan, I salute you. You now have my leave to depart."

Kuresa could not speak a word. His heart was too full. He fell at Ramanuja's feet like a senseless block of wood. Ramanuja lifted him up. Kuresa pressed his master's holy feet to his head and to his breast, and prayed for the holy water washed from those feet. Ramanuja administered it in serene solemnity, and Kuresa received it, reciting the memorial verse:

Ramanuja then began moving back toward his mutt near the North River (Kolladam). Kuresa followed a little distance. "Pray stop now," said Ramanuja. Kuresa, hands folded, turned back to a shelter near Azhvar's house.

He called his wife Andal-ammai to his side and asked what she wished. "August Sir — your wish is mine. I have none of my own," she said, and fell at his feet with folded hands.

He next called his sons Bhattarya and Sri Rama-p-pillai. "Dear children — you have no bereavement to mourn, for Lord Ranga is your Father and His holy Spouse is your Mother. You have been raised by Them. But do not forget that Ramanuja is your Saviour. Be obedient to Andal. In thought, word, or deed, do not sin against holy men — on the contrary, always seek their company."

The sons wept and fell at their father's feet. "Weep not, dear children," Kuresa said, raising them fondly, "for if your grief is caused by the worldly relationship, you are meddling with the spiritual relationship you hold with Ramanuja. But if it is due to your soul-relationship with me, then you call that very relationship into question by such grief. Either way, you have no cause for regret. Rise above such worldly weakness."

So exhorting, Kuresa lay down — his head toward the temple, resting on the lap of Pillai-Azhvan, his feet on the lap of Andal-ammai — and, dismissing from his mind every thought but that of Ramanuja's holy feet, winged his way into the ethereal spaces.

Ramanuja was quickly informed. He hastened to the spot and consoled Bhattarya, who was weeping, telling him that no tears should be shed over an auspicious event. He instructed him to attend to the funeral rites. The Brahma-medha ritual, combined with the Vaishnava rite, was duly performed. The following verse was composed to Kuresa's memory:

Tradition says that while Sri Ramanuja (Lakshmanacharya) is Lakshmana himself of the Rama-Ramanuja story, Kuresa is Rama himself, born again to render service to him in these days.

It is said that without Kuresa, Ramanuja would not have been what he has been. Arulala-perumal Emberumanar had composed a hymn in praise of Ramanuja — the Dravida Ramanuja-nuttran-dadi — in imitation of Andhra-Purna's Sanskrit Ramanuja-Ashtottara. When Ramanuja heard it, he rejected it because it contained no reference to Kuresa. Verse 7, Mozhiyai, was then added. Only after that was the hymn sanctioned and given its place among the Four Thousand Prabandhas.