A terrible accident occurred at my sister’s house in Chennai on September 1st. Her second grandson fell into the more than more 14 feet sump while playing after workers had left the lid open for cleaning. Fortunately, my nephew Krupa was nearby and, without a moment’s hesitation, jumped in after his son and managed to save him. Thankfully, there were only two feet of water in the sump, and the workers immediately stopped the pump. As the workers kept the motor not at the centre but in a corner both Satvik and Krupa escaped from sustaining major injuries. The boy sustained only a few scratches, while Krupa suffered some injuries to his hands and head. My sister called me on Monday to share this, and it shocked the entire family, as the boy narrowly escaped death.
Just half an hour before the incident, Swaminath had woken up and recounted a dream in which both his grandsons had fallen into the temple pond at Chidambaram while he stood on the steps. In the dream, my father suddenly appeared, jumped into the tank, rescued both boys, and handed them over to Swaminath before disappearing. Although it was just a dream, the accident happened within half an hour, and the family strongly believes that it was my father who saved Satvik, Krupa’s son, from the sump.
In our family, it’s not uncommon for someone to have a dream foreshadowing a major event. Before our house burned down in Vriddhachalam in 1972, my younger sister had a dream in which she saw some of my school friends rushing to help. She even asked one of them to retrieve her favorite sandals. When the fire broke out, the same thing happened—some of my friends who were nearby rushed to help, and she made the same request.
Similarly, before my eldest brother passed away, another sister had a dream in which his wife arrived at our house with her hair loose, crying. A few hours later, my brother’s body arrived. She had the dream early in the morning, and when she shared it with my mother, my mother, as usual, rebuked her and told her to go and wash her mouth, since it was ‘Vaikunda Ekadasi,’ a sacred day. On that day, I had gone to the Sri Rangam temple to pass through the ‘Paramapada Vasal,’ the gateway to Vaikunta, which is opened only once a year, allowing Ranganatha to pass through first on this auspicious occasion. When Swaminathn shared his dream with my sister, she also rebuked him and asked him to go and wash his mouth. This act of ‘washing the mouth’ after sharing a bad dream is a part of Tamil culture. I still recall how, many times, my mother lamented my eldest brother’s death, blaming my sister for it by calling her ‘Tukiri,’ implying that someone’s bad words had caused his death.
I don’t know how to interpret such dreams. Being [an ultra-rationalist], I generally don’t give much importance to dreams, often dismissing them as the brain’s way of processing stored memories and experiences. Sometimes, I consider them to be psychological phenomena. Since we have two well-regarded psychologists in our Mandali, they might offer more insight into this.
However, considering all that has happened within my own family, I find it difficult to dismiss these dreams entirely with my rationalistic reasoning.
3-9-2024
Gurukulam
A terrible accident occurred at my sister’s house in Chennai on September 1st. Her second grandson fell into the more than more 14 feet sump while playing after workers had left the lid open for cleaning. Fortunately, my nephew Krupa was nearby and, without a moment’s hesitation, jumped in after his son and managed to save him. Thankfully, there were only two feet of water in the sump, and the workers immediately stopped the pump. As the workers kept the motor not at the centre but in a corner both Satvik and Krupa escaped from sustaining major injuries. The boy sustained only a few scratches, while Krupa suffered some injuries to his hands and head. My sister called me on Monday to share this, and it shocked the entire family, as the boy narrowly escaped death.
Just half an hour before the incident, Swaminath had woken up and recounted a dream in which both his grandsons had fallen into the temple pond at Chidambaram while he stood on the steps. In the dream, my father suddenly appeared, jumped into the tank, rescued both boys, and handed them over to Swaminath before disappearing. Although it was just a dream, the accident happened within half an hour, and the family strongly believes that it was my father who saved Satvik, Krupa’s son, from the sump.
In our family, it’s not uncommon for someone to have a dream foreshadowing a major event. Before our house burned down in Vriddhachalam in 1972, my younger sister had a dream in which she saw some of my school friends rushing to help. She even asked one of them to retrieve her favorite sandals. When the fire broke out, the same thing happened—some of my friends who were nearby rushed to help, and she made the same request.
Similarly, before my eldest brother passed away, another sister had a dream in which his wife arrived at our house with her hair loose, crying. A few hours later, my brother’s body arrived. She had the dream early in the morning, and when she shared it with my mother, my mother, as usual, rebuked her and told her to go and wash her mouth, since it was ‘Vaikunda Ekadasi,’ a sacred day. On that day, I had gone to the Sri Rangam temple to pass through the ‘Paramapada Vasal,’ the gateway to Vaikunta, which is opened only once a year, allowing Ranganatha to pass through first on this auspicious occasion. When Swaminathn shared his dream with my sister, she also rebuked him and asked him to go and wash his mouth. This act of ‘washing the mouth’ after sharing a bad dream is a part of Tamil culture. I still recall how, many times, my mother lamented my eldest brother’s death, blaming my sister for it by calling her ‘Tukiri,’ implying that someone’s bad words had caused his death.
I don’t know how to interpret such dreams. Being [an ultra-rationalist], I generally don’t give much importance to dreams, often dismissing them as the brain’s way of processing stored memories and experiences. Sometimes, I consider them to be psychological phenomena. Since we have two well-regarded psychologists in our Mandali, they might offer more insight into this.
However, considering all that has happened within my own family, I find it difficult to dismiss these dreams entirely with my rationalistic reasoning.
3-9-2024
Gurukulam
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