Dr-KS

Dr. K. Subrahmanian was a teacher, columnist, author and orator. He was a professor at the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages, Hyderabad and founded the Sri Ramana Kendram, Hyderabad in 1979. He was the Kendram’s inspiration and guiding light for two decades, until his death in January 1998.

Because both his parents were staunch devotees, K. Subrahmanian had the good fortune to come to Bhagavan at the early age of two. His mother met Bhagavan in 1921 at Skandasramam as a girl of ten, and later visited Bhagavan every year. His father, Prof. V. S. Krishnaswami Iyer of Melvayalamoor (30 kms from Tiruvannamalai), worked as a maths teacher in the Municipal High School, and met Bhagavan in 1927.

Already from this first meeting, Krishnaswami knew that he had found what he was looking for, and began making regular visits to the Ashram. But shortly after the birth of his son, in April 1928, he was posted to Kodaikanal to teach at the Presentation Convent High School, a prestigious academy designed to prepare students for the Cambridge University exams.

Subrahmanian’s childhood home was enlivened with conversations about Bhagavan and with visits from devotees, not least among them, Viswanatha Swami. The youngster grew up in an atmosphere “soaked in Bhagavan” and learned a lot about Bhagavan from those who moved closely with him. Viswanatha Swami met K. Subrahmanian’s father in the days when the latter was teaching in a school in Tiruvannamalai. Viswanatha Swami would come and stay for days at a stretch during which time conversations would invariably centre on Bhagavan. Viswanatha Swami had plenty of stories to share, and the family was all ears.

Subrahmanian’s uncle, V. S. Srinivas Iyer, also had stories to tell. He made regular visits to the Ashram to see Bhagavan even during his student days at Voorhees College, Vellore. In time, he became the munsiff (tax assessor) of Vaylamoor, and from there would travel to Tiruvannamalai every second month, often taking his nephew with him.

By 1941, K. Subrahmanian reached eighth standard, and his father sent him to P. S. Sivaswami Iyer High School, a boarding school in Tirukattupally, where he remained for the next four years. His father sent money each month to pay for tuition, room and board. It was during this time that the young student started writing letters to Sri Bhagavan, for which Chinnaswami sent regular replies along with prasad from Bhagavan. On a subsequent visit to the Ashram, Bhagavan pointed to the youngster and asked Srinivasa Iyer about him. “Oh, this is my brother’s son who lives in Kodaikanal”. Bhagavan graciously turned to Subrahmanian: “So you’re the one writing me letters!” Then Bhagavan added in jest, “Does your father send you money so that you can write me letters?” The boy was thrilled with joy at having Bhagavan address him, but “perspired profusely due to the feeling of awe”.

After completing the SSLC in 1945, Subrahmanian applied for admission to American College, Madurai. As he was taking leave, Bhagavan enquired of his destination. When he told him that he was going to Madurai for admission to college, Bhagavan asked, “Which college?” The student had meant to say “American College, Madurai”, but instead said “Madura College”. Bhagavan smiled and said, “Sari, sari”. When the time came, Subrahmanian did not get the expected admission in American College, Madurai, but instead got admission to Madura College. And that is where he enrolled.

At the Ashram, a year later, Subrahmanian was walking towards the darshan hall with his head bent down. When he looked up, he saw Bhagavan standing and talking to a devotee near the Ashram well. Just at that moment Sri Bhagavan cast his glance towards him. In an instant, the boy came to a complete stop. While standing perfectly still, a powerful light penetrated and engulfed him. The blissful state that ensued remained with him for the next three weeks.

A similar experience occurred in 1949. By this time, the Mother’s Shrine had been completed and Bhagavan had moved to the New Hall. As Subrahmanian sat at the entrance of the hall, looking at Bhagavan, he thought to himself, “I’ve been coming to the Ashram for so long, but Bhagavan has never granted me the experience of real meditation.” Thinking thus, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, after what had seemed like only a few minutes, he found the hall completely empty; Bhagavan and devotees had filed out past him and exited the hall while he sat unawares, absorbed in meditation.

In March the following year, the final examinations for his bachelor degree were to take place. A devotee – his sister’s father-in-law, T.V. Krishnaswami Iyer – gave Subrahmanian a copy of Muruganar’s commentary on Aksharamanamalai. It was not clear whether or not the book would ever be published; so, in order to have the text to study in an ongoing way, Subrahmanian eagerly hand-copied the manuscript in its entirety – a task that took three days to complete – all the while, heedless of the approaching examination. On the night before his first paper, he at last opened his textbooks to study for the following day’s test. As it dealt with the subject of translating Old English into modern English, he randomly selected a passage from the book and translated it in what would turn out to be a very hasty preparation for the first of his final exams. With this done, he went to bed. The next morning, when he appeared for the exam, he was startled to discover that the first and principal question of the examination was the very passage he had selected the night before. Such was life growing up in the midst of Bhagavan!

During the celebrations of the Kumbhabhishekam of Mother’s Shrine, the 21 year-old Subrahmanian was blessed to sit next to Bhagavan in the New Hall. At such close range, he could observe Bhagavan’s every movement up close. When the puja flame came towards them, Bhagavan extended his graceful hands, closed his eyes and touched the arati with such tender reverence that the youngster found himself deeply moved.

He witnessed other similar moments in Sri Bhagavan’s presence, and could not help but observe the kindness, courtesy and consideration Bhagavan showed to all people. Even on the mountain trails, he noticed that Bhagavan would step aside to let others pass. And in the hall during the night, when Bhagavan had to go out, he would shine his flashlight on his stomach rather than directly down onto the floor in order to avoid disturbing others who were sleeping nearby. Subrahmanian saw in Bhagavan someone who was the embodiment of compassion and who treated all creatures with respect – the perfect model for one seeking to learn how to live one’s life.

As Subrahmanian had now completed his studies and graduated with a degree, he contemplated his professional life. He recalled something his uncle, V.S. Srinivasa Iyer, had once asked Bhagavan: “Do you think India will gain its freedom?” Bhagavan said, “Why do you ask me? Am I an astrologer?” After some time, Bhagavan turned to Srinivasa Iyer and said, “Why do you worry? There’s a Supreme Power which carries the whole burden. Our job is to do our work and submit to it.”

Subrahmanian took this advice from Bhagavan as a dictum for life. Having completed a Bachelor of Arts (Hons.) from Madras Christian College, he joined the college in 1950 as lecturer in the Department of English. In the early months of the same year, he came to the Ashram regularly as he and other devotees worried about Bhagavan’s health. Bhagavan did not seem a bit concerned about his condition, and remained ever the same – serene and blissful – as if the cancer belonged to somebody else. But Subrahmanian found himself weeping in Bhagavan’s presence, distraught over the Master’s gradual physical decline. The last time he saw Bhagavan was on 7th April, just one week before the Mahanirvana. When seven days later, at Kodaikanal, he heard the news of Bhagavan’s departure, he did not break down; instead, he was surprised to discover an unexpected peace that persisted even as he reconciled himself to the reality that he would never see Bhagavan in the physical body again.

Subrahmanian began writing for newspapers; in his early twenties, he became the Kodaikanal correspondent to The Indian Express. In 1959, he travelled to the U.K. on a British Council Scholarship to do a course at the University of London. During the early days of the stay, he found himself lonely, so far from home as he was. One day, when acutely feeling the pang of loneliness, he walked into the University library, and went to the new book release section. The first title he picked up was The Saint and Other Stories by Somerset Maugham. Upon opening the book, he found himself face-to-face with the smiling countenance of Sri Bhagavan. Thrilled at seeing the picture, he felt that Bhagavan was communicating with him directly, telling him that he would always be with him and that there was no longer any need to feel lonely. In 1965,

Subrahmanian travelled to the US on a Fulbright scholarship, taking his family with him. At Indiana University, he worked on a PhD in Comparative Literature, while simultaneously seeking a Masters in Linguistics. He returned to India in 1969 and re-joined the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages in Hyderabad, first as lecturer and then as a tenured professor. In 1973, he set up the Department of Correspondence Courses, and was appointed its head. Shortly after this, a regional centre of CIEFL was started in Shillong and Dr. Subrahmanian was transferred there to serve as its Director for the following three years.

As professor, Dr. Subrahmanian was called on to give lectures on a daily basis. But never once did he give a talk on Bhagavan. His father, Krishnaswami Iyer, had sometimes given talks on Bhagavan, but K. Subrahmanian felt “too small” to speak on the Master and his teachings. In 1979, however, Sri Ramanasramam management called on him to organise and celebrate Bhagavan’s Centenary Jayanthi in Hyderabad. When he held a meeting for local devotees to discuss how best to organize the centenary, it was suggested that Dr. Subrahmanian spearhead the formation of a Ramana Kendram in Hyderabad. From that day onwards, weekly meetings commenced, and Dr. Subrahmanian found himself called on to speak about Bhagavan on a regular basis. Once the Kendram had taken root, Dr. Subrahmanian’s desire to talk and write on other subjects disappeared altogether; and between 1979 and 1998, all his talks revolved on one single subject – Sri Bhagavan and his teachings.

The glue and inspiration for the Kendram, Dr. K.S., was there every Sunday and often had additional satsangs at his house. Seeing Bhagavan as the incarnation of Dakshinamurthi, Dr. K.S. spoke in glowing terms of the penetrating power of Bhagavan’s silence.

Dr. K.S.’s sense of humour was renowned; but the sincerity of his devotion was even more remarkable. When he would go before an assembly to speak on Bhagavan, he was sometimes so choked with emotion that he would have to leave the podium without a further word. Kendram members came to depend on his presence at the meetings.

Dr. K.S. never took any title and sought as much as possible to remain out of the public view. He insisted that there be no hierarchy in the Kendram organisation, and urged that leadership roles be rotated on a regular basis.

As years went by, Dr. K.S’ writing efforts intensified. He worked as a columnist for The Hindu, taking charge of the weekly columns, Between You and Me and Know Your English. The latter was a forum for English language questions and was quite popular. Between You and Me served as a venue for citizen complaints. Because of the lofty reputation that Subrahmanian earned for the column, any complaint against public institutions published in Between You and Me was taken seriously by relevant authorities and was almost always dealt with to the plaintiff’s satisfaction. Selections from Know Your English was later published by Oxford University Press in two volumes.

Dr. Subrahanian rendered the Mahabharatha into simple English for children, and in 1977 joined the editorial board of Mountain Path. His contributions to the journal were eventually compiled and brought out in book form under the title, The Uniqueness of Sri Bhagavan. He translated Kunjuswami’s Reminiscences of Sri Bhagavan into English and founded and edited Sri Ramana Jyoti, the bilingual (English and Telugu) monthly, exclusively devoted to Sri Bhagavan. Perhaps his most cherished writings, were his personal letters and post-cards to devotees in their times of trouble. These communications invariably carried apposite quotations from Bhagavan and prasad from Ramanasramam. Dr. K.S. always kept with him his address book containing devotees’ contact information, including those who lived out-of-state. His communiques were seen by devotees like messages from Bhagavan himself and, mysteriously, were always somehow germane to the problem facing the recipient. When he was not writing to the sick and the infirm, he would go and visit them in person and encouraged other Kendram members to do the same.

On 5^th January, 1998, Dr. Subrahmanian became sick himself having suffered a stroke. Admitted to the local hospital, doctors were not optimistic, and within two days, he slipped into a diabetic coma. Family members and Kendram supporters kept vigil day and night. One day, when the patient’s sacred thread got entangled with the medical adhesive, his sister tried to remove the tape and failing to do so, used a pair of scissors to cut the thread. At that moment, Mrs. K.S felt that her husband had taken sanyasa and would no longer be bound to her on earth. When kumkum and vibhuti were applied to his forehead, a bilva leaf fell from the packet and landed on his chest. Subhashini Subrahmanian saw this as a sign that her husband’s end was near. A few days later, on 11th January 1998, Dr. Subrahmanian was absorbed in Arunachala Ramana; family members and Kendram friends recalled his oft-repeated reflection about Bhagavan:

Everything happens according to Bhagavan’s will. All that we can do is carry out what we have to do to the best of our abilities and accept whatever happens as Bhagavan’s will. This attitude gives one tremendous detachment together with the strength to do one’s duty.

When one has such an attitude, one learns to accept one’s weaknesses and strengths. No one can be good, except through Bhagavan’s will. Never bargain with God. He knows better than [we] what is good for [us] (Source: Sharanagati (a Ramanashram e-journal) in the Sept and Oct 2012 issues)