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Monday, June 28, 2010

Parvathemalai


Veerabhadrar Temple
Veerabhadrar Temple : This is the third temple enroute to the main hill. Lord veerabhadrar is present inside the temple. The Herbal Park starts from here which makes the environment completely different. This is really a no pollution and silence zone.








Vanadhurga Temple
Vanadhurga Temple: This is the 5th temple enroute to the main hill.Goddess Vanadhurga is present herre. Lord Shiva along with his companion(Nandi) are also present here. This is the last temple in plane and here onwards, main hill starts.








Renugambal Temple
Renugambal Temple : This is the fourth temple enroute to the main hill bit out of the way. We need to walk around 100 mts from Veerabhadrar Temple to reach here. Goddess Renugambal is present in front of herbal pond(Agaya Gangai). One bath using the water from this pond may take away all the pain from body and tiredness and once again start feeling refreshed.







Siddhar Temple ( Mani Mandabam ) Siddhar Temple ( Mani Mandabam ) : This is the 6th temple enroute to top and first temple we find while climbing. This is basically not a temple. It is almost like a halt. We can see an idol of siddha here. It is beleived that many siddhas use to come here in night and practice their skills. The vibration of air from this point is certainly different.







Pachaiamman Temple
Pachaiamman Temple: This is the point, upto where the vehicles are allowed to go. Before we start climbing for main Shiva Temple, it is advised to perform pooja here inside the the temple and pray infornt of 6 munis by lighting camphors whose space size idols are been there. This is a prayer to god for our safety and well-being, while climbing on the hill.






Lord Shiva's feet :
Lord Shiva's feet : This is in the mid of vertical climb. This is beleived that, the symbols are the Lord Shiva's feet.






















Kadaparai Sivan:
Kadaparai Sivan : This is the last temple enroute to top where lord Shiva is present. This is also the point from where almost vertical climbing(120 Degree Inclination Starts). Hence, the people who cant climb this part due to health issues or aged, they perform their main puja here itself and comes back.

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Monday, June 21, 2010

Recruitment of various posts in NABARD June 2010

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Recruitment of Specialist Cadre Officers (SCO) in SBI June 2010

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Wednesday, June 16, 2010

poondi swami

Poondi Swami

Where is Poondi?”
Poondi, Tamil Nadu District, India.
How to get there :
1. There are buses available from Thiruvannamalai
2. Take a bus to Thiruvannamalai from Tirupati and get down at Kalasapakkam. Poondi is 2 kms away from Kalasapakkam. Take either a bus or walk down to Poondi.
3-About seven miles from Polur, on the main road to Tiruvannamalai. You will have to take a diversion to reach Poondi village.
Along the River Cheyyar :
This area has been Poondi Swami’s haunt for a number of years. Whether it was blazing sun, or torrential rain, whether it was biting cold or thick mist, he used to spend his days and nights on the river bed only.

It was the fag end of 1969. On my way from Tiruvannamalai to Vellore, I stopped at Polur to have darshan at the samadhi of Saint Vitthoba. We met Duraiswami Swamigal at the mutt who introduced me to a Mr. R. Pargunam. The latter’s father had been a contemporary and devotee of Vitthoba and had had a close association with the saint. Pargunam narrated certain incidents he had heard from his father about Vitthoba’s life.

Before I took leave of him, I asked him if he had known any living siddha.

“Oh, yes,” he said enthusiastically, and added, “There is a swamiyar at Poondi. A recluse, he had wandered for several years around nearby villages. Seven years ago he settled on the pyal of a house there. He has not stirred from there since. Only last month; I was there. You must have his darshan.”

“Where is Poondi?”

“About seven miles from Polur, on the main road to Tiruvannamalai. You will have to take a diversion to reach Poondi village,” Pargunan explained.

We left immediately for Poondi accompanied by Duraiswami Swamigal.

After proceeding about five miles on the Polur-Tiruvannamalai trunk road, we took a turn to the right at Kalasapakkam and travelled along the River Cheyyar.

“This area has been Poondi Swamiyar’s haunt for a number of years. Whether it was blazing sun, or torrential rain, whether it was biting cold or thick mist, he used to spend his days and nights on the river bed only,” said Swamiji.

“Does he belong to Kalasapakkam?”

“No one knows his name or place of birth. For over three decades, he was seen roaming about in the neighbouring villages. About seven years ago he came to Poondi and sat in a small house permanently.”

“What is his age?”

“He looks a man of sixty. But those who have seen him 25 years ago say that they do not find any change in his appearance and that he does not seem to be aging at all. You cannot assess a Siddha‘s age from his appearance,” stated Swamiji.

As we travelled, we enjoyed the natural beauty of the rural landscape. Because of good rainfall, there was a perceptible flow in the otherwise dry river. The leaves of a row of peepul trees on the bank rustled in the cool breeze, somewhat reducing the rigours of the blazing sun.

As we neared Poondi, I asked, “Is the house occupied by the Swamiyar in the interior of the village?”

“No, it is on the main bus route. See, there! Do you see that group of persons standing near a house? That is the house. We park the car here,” said the Swamiji and driver Palani brought the car to a halt.

We got down from the car and walked up to the house.

It was a small, tiled house. It had two pyals on either side. The one on the right was a square one, four feet by four feet, and the one on the left was rectangular, four feet long and two feet wide.

On the left pyal sat the Poondi Swamiyar. His head was poised at an odd angle. He glanced from time to time at those who stood around. He held a couple of boxes of matches in a tight grip in his right hand as he patiently combed his moderate beard with the fingers of his left hand. Every now and then he looked intently at his fingertips, as if searching for lice or dirt. Then he got back to combing his beard with serious intent.

A young man arrived, went to the Swamiyar and whispered in his ear. The Swamiyar nodded assent with a gruff ‘hmm’. The young man picked up a cigarette, placed it between the Swamiyar’s lips and lighted it. The Swamiyar asked for the box of matches. Now the Swamiyar had three boxes of matches in his right fist! He smoked with his left hand. I found him smoking in an unusual way. He inhaled, removed the cigarette, blew out the smoke, almost immediately took the cigarette back to his lips, inhaled, removed it and blew out smoke. He did this rapidly again and again, like a fast-motion shot in a movie, finishing a full cigarette within a couple of minutes! He let out only a little smoke, yet did not seem to swallow much of it.

Two admirers fell prostrate on the ground, stood up, touched his feet with veneration, and asked for sacred ash as prasad.

“You may take it,” came the curt command. They took it from the cup, smeared it on their foreheads and left, merely saying, “We are going, Saami”. “Let good befall on your endeavours,” responded the Swamiyar, looking down, then looking up for a split second with sparkling eyes.

A boy came with a bottle of aerated water. He opened the bottle and offered it to the Swamiyar, who took it and drank it at a stretch, without once removing the bottle from his lips. As he handed over the bottle to the waiting boy, he let out a noisy and prolonged belch. The boy took a piece of cloth and wiped the Swamiyar’s mouth and nostrils. The Swamiyar received these ministrations like a well-behaved child.

Before the boy left, the Swamiyar took a pinch of sacred ash, smeared it on the boy’s forehead and bade him go.

I had been staring at the Swamiyar all this while. He suddenly looked at me. Nay, I felt a cool spark strike me. When I had read about the efficacy of Shirdi Sai Baba’s ‘yogic glance’ I could not comprehend its full import. When I experienced the power-packed glance of Poondi Swamiyar, I could imagine the impact Sai Baba’s yogic glances would have had on his devotees.

I, who had been watching the happenings without being impressed, fell at his feet the moment he glanced at me. It was an act performed unconsciously. It was a spontaneous response to a look that thrilled me beyond words.

A woman admirer put a peppermint in the Swamiyar’s mouth, as if she was feeding her child. He stretched his hand and asked for the piece of paper in which the peppermint had been wrapped. An inexplicable impulse prompted me to offer something to the Swamiyar. I asked my friend to get a cup of coffee from a nearby ‘tea shop’.


Poondi Swamiyar seated on his pyar. Prominent around him are lithograph pictures of Lord Murugan with the Lord's Vel and the focus of worship. Besides the Vel, at least four images are of Murugan.

A local enthusiast who had been busy offering me unsolicited information about the idiosyncrasies of the Swamiyar, told me that he would accept anything only if he had the mind and mood for it, and if he accepted what was offered, it meant the giver had his blessings in ample measure. Hence, it was with much hesitation and trepidation that I proffered the coffee to the Swamiyar.

He gave me a searching look and accepted the coffee. I observed his fingers. They were long and thickset. The hand was also large and sturdy. If he stood up he would be a stalwart figure.

He drank the coffee too in an unorthodox fashion. He neither raised his head nor removed the cup from his lips. He slurped the coffee fast with his tongue, as a cat would drink milk from a plate. I was immensely pleased that he had not only accepted my coffee but drunk it with relish. No sooner had he finished, another admirer brought him a cup of tea. He drank that too in the same manner. His ways were indeed strange.

Different fruits and eatables were littered all over the place. He was surrounded by oranges, apples, grapes, plantains, laddu, halwa, boondhi, chocolates, peppermints, biscuits and what not! On his lap lay a cigarette packet, two chocolate wrappers, a one rupee note. There were two glasses with left-over cold coffee. Pictures of various gods hung on the wall. There was a small but imposing vel of Muruga. A colour picture of Lord Muruga was nailed to a pillar opposite him. The Swamiyar concentrated on it at regular intervals. Behind the pyal, there was a small room. The various eatables offered to the Swamiyar were dumped in it up to the roof. Cigarette packets, boxes of matches, garlands, fruits, plantain leaves, bits of paper and a thousand and one things had been thrown in as directed by him. Nobody dared touch even a trivial thing found on the pyal without his permission.

I was startled to find the fruits that had been thrown in were fresh. They had not become rotten. No stink emanated from them. I could not see even a single fly or ant.

I was introduced to a man named Subramani, who was standing near a thatched shed opposite the house. He was a tailor. He had been attending on the Swamiyar for the past three or four years. Before that, when the Swamiyar was occupying the bigger pyal on the right, he did not allow anyone to even come near him.

Only during the last three years had he let others clean the pyal and bathe his body. Subramani brought food for the Swamiyar from his house, both in the morning and in the evening, but the Swamiyar “had never asked him or anyone else to bring him anything to eat. He would eat only if he was spoon-fed. If he did not feel like it, he would reject the food summarily. The Swamiyar sat through the whole day. Only at night would Subramani assist him to stretch out on the pyal. It was anyone’s guess if he slept at all. At four in the morning, he would be assisted to sit up and resume his usual posture.

“Does he talk to people?” I asked Subramani.

“Oh, yes. He will talk freely, provided he is in the mood. Sometimes he gives direct answers to queries. Sometimes he replies with indirect and oblique remarks. We then have to try and understand the meaning with a little effort.”

“Have you ever had occasion to ask his name or about his native place?”

“Oh, yes. Several times, but in vain. He will not reveal them. He would silence me by saying, ‘They are divine secrets’.”

“Has any miracle taken place here to prove that he is really a Siddha Purusha? I asked.

Subramani wanted to say something, but seemed to hesitate.

“Please be frank,” I encouraged him.

“So many things happen every day... I am not clear in my mind if I should narrate them or not. You must be very cautious and careful. He is not an ordinary Swamiyar. You should gauge him according to your own personal experiences.”

I took leave of the Swamiyar and left for Vellore.


A week later, I was back in Poondi and spoke to him. I said, “Swami, I was here last week. I could not resist the desire to see you again, so I came.” I just spoke inconsequentially, merely because I felt an urge to say something. I least expected him to reply.

But most unexpectedly he spoke. “Even Nagarathnam Pillai says so. He says, ‘If you think of me, I must be here’. Don’t you know Arcot Nagarathnam Pillai? I mean Vellore-Arcot...”

I was reassured and emboldened.

“What is Swami’s name? From where does the Swami hail?” I asked hurriedly.

“What harm did I do to rice-mill Govindaraja Mudaliar, or what did he do to me? Everything belongs to those good old days... good and bad... order and discipline... transport, justice, honour... what do you say? They laid the roads. Buses plied... electricity came... they planted the posts... Konerikuppam, Pilluru, Melvaidyanatha Kuppam... Friday shandy... will there not be a crowd? Those who come to buy and sell, and their children... everything must go on automatically... mustn’t it? Do you concur with me? Annamangalam, Adimoolam... Ernamangalam Sivaraman... They put up a tollgate... took money and gave a receipt... But it is valid only for the night... Next day you must obtain a fresh receipt. Understand?” He went on in this strain. I could not make head or tail of his disjointed statements. To ascertain the probable period during which the incidents he referred to took place, I asked him, “Were the Englishmen in the country then?”

“The Japanese were also there,” quick came the reply. I surmised he was referring to a time during World War II.

“May I know Swami’s name and his birthplace?” I asked again, taking advantage of his conversational mood.

“I can’t tell you all those things,” he replied in a huff and I felt snubbed.

From the subjects he discussed and the idiom he used, it would appear that he had spent long years in rural areas. The core of his observations was agricultural problems and village development. But we could not divine the content or decipher the meaning of his utterances. Was he talking about the past, present or future? It was impossible to guess.


The Poondi Swamiyar does not reply to all questions. When he condescends to reply, some are direct answers, some are indirect references. He talks to persons at random. Most of the time he keeps a stoic silence. He looks at familiar and unfamiliar faces with equal indifference. It is extremely hard to observe any perceptible change in his expression.

Admirers and disciples from neighbouring villages trickle in throughout the day. Some fall at his feet, take the sacred ash and, smearing it on the forehead, speed away. If they take leave of him saying “Poi varen, Saami”, he sometimes replies “Nallathu, poi va “ (very good, you may go), sometimes he simply nods assent, and at other times he remains as still as a rock, just staring at them.

Some take him into confidence and discuss their personal affairs. He gives them a patient and sympathetic hearing and sends them away with words of advice. He imparts knowledge through a colloquial language which will catch the imagination of rustic minds or by quoting a proverb which is used in day-to-day life. The deeper we ponder over them, the clearer the underlying import and significance become.

An old woman complains to the Swamiyar with deep hurt about her son who has become a spendthrift because of his evil ways. In the Swamiyar’s comforting words to the unfortunate woman, his deep concern for her is obvious.

“What can we do about it, Ammal This is the Kali Age. If we spend twelve annas in a rupee, we must save four annas. We need not covet others’ wealth or aspire to their property. We must be satisfied with a cup of gruel. Don’t you agree with me, Ammal As is said in the proverb, ‘The mother’s heart is melting in love and the son’s heart is-hard as stone’, you suffer agony. What to do? This is the Kali Age. Nobody will sympathise with another’s suffering. If we step on a thorn, even the man next to us will not come to our rescue. Times are bad, what to do? You can lead a comfortable life only if you lead a careful life and save something for the winter... small drops make an ocean. Arulilarkku avvulagam Mai, Porulilarkku ivvulagam Mai (Those who do not have compassion are denied the joys of the other world. Those who do not have wealth are denied the pleasures of this world).”

The woman intervenes and mumbles something. The Swamiyar continues, “Yes, yes... it is not without significance they said ‘You will hurt the same leg again and again, and the very same famished family is destined to suffer more and more’... Bad company. Who can help it, this is the Kali Age? You need not take much precaution if you raise greens in the garden. But if you plant a drumstick sapling nearby, you must put up a fence all round. Otherwise someone will steal the drumsticks when the tree starts yielding... This is such a hopeless age...”

Another devotee announces his plans to start a business, taking a friend as his partner. He seeks the Swamiyar’s blessings for the project.

“Even in some families, brothers born to the same mother do not live in amity and peace these days... they quarrel among themelves... you be careful in your venture,” advises the Swamiyar.

poondi swamigal


Poondi swamigal video(click Me)

Once I had occasion to visit the Samadhi of Sri Seshadri Swamigal in Tiruvannamalai, when the priest there, after giving me the holy water (Teertham) and sacred ash (Vibhuti). suggested that I should visit the "Saint of Poondi". Since Poondi was situated only about twenty miles from there, I assured the priest that I would try to make the visit. Shortly afterwards I met a young Brahmachari from Uttarkasi, by name, Mallikaljuna, and we decided to visit the Saint of Poondi together, and so we soon tarted off by bus, and arrived at Poondi.
As the bus came to a halt, we jumped out and immediately noticed that on the right side of the road, on an open verandah, an old man was seated and wa garlanded very profusely. The first look at him created a poor impression: "If this were to be the Swami of Poondi, then I have come to one who parades himself exactly at the place where the bus stops". And he was looking from the right corner of his eyes at all the people alighting from the bus. I was almost sure that he was on the look out for devotee visitors. His hair was partly tied up into a knot at the top of his head with flower garlands, and the rest of it was falling behind hi back. He had a shapely beard, and in his left hand he held a large number of currency notes. In his right hand, between his fingers, were two or three c!garettes, and there were some rings on his fingers, only one of which seemed to be of gold.

I stood for a moment, wondering whether he could be the Swami so highly spoken of by the priest at Tiruvannamalai, and the young Brahmachari accompanying me suggested that we had best find out for sure whether he was the man we had come to see. Upon our enquiry one young man told us that we were in fact in the presence of the Swami who we had wanted to see. We immediately accepted the situation, and, turning all our fanciful thinking towards the task of patient observation, we offered to garland him with the flowers that we had brought from Tiruvannamalai. The Swami, instead of allowing us to put them around his neck, leaned back so as to be beyond our reach, and taking the garlands with his hand, he kept them away from him. Seeing the rupees in his hands I too offered him one rupee, which he accepted. Then he gave us holy ashes and Kumkum. We then went to the back of the thatched shed, and introduced ourselves to a young man, Mr Ramani from Madras. While the Brahmachari started to talk with him, I kept up my observation of the Swami. The first thing that I observed was that the Swami did not pay attention to his visitors, other than formality demanded of him. He seemed to be not looking at anyone in particular, and I found out that his side-long look was not a look for eager devotees, but was just his natural look, like the left-bent gaze of Bhagawan Ramana Maharishi. Furthermore 'Poondi Swami' was indifferent to the money in his left hand, for not once did he change it over to his other hand, nor did he remove it to, a relaxed position. Nor did he smoke, though he held so many cigarettes between hi fingers, and his mood did not change even with the passing of four hours. Obviously he was not waiting for any devotees, for as they came and went, he paid little attention to them. He seemed neither happy nor bored, nor did he change his sitting posture even once. This was a stunning revelation for me. It was not that he was sitting in meditation or anything like that. He simply was not aware of the way he was sitting, and his body did not demand any attention to it by seeking any change in his posture. On keen observation, this complete unawareness of the separate existence of his body, seemed to correspond with his unawareness of the separate existence of others. When someone comes for his blessings, he focuses his attention as if by an effort, and as soon as his blessing is given (either by accepting the offerings of the visitor, or by giving holy ashes), his focused attention seems to melt into a general, vast, abstract awareness. Even visitors standing for hours in his presence do not attract his attention. Curiosity is totally absent in him.
People who visit him walk towards him, offering fruits, flowers, money, coconuts, incense sticks and camphor. Some offer him tea or coffee, which they fetch from the nearby stalls. Others offer him soda, coca-cola or orange crush, and give him cigarettes or beedies. He accepts, takes them, and puts them aside, paying no attention to them. By evening there are huge piles of these accumulated things, which he never gives to anyone. Every night all these gifts are cleared up and dumped in the rooms behind the Swami, and the heaps have accumulated to such an extent that the rooms seem to be almost full, and all the offerings of of earlier days peep out of the spaces in the shutters. Yet nothing rots nor stinks, and the vapour that can be occasionally sensed is as from fresh flowers, fruits and coconuts. He holds all the money that is offered to him from morning until evening, and this has been going on for the past ten or eleven years. On Saturdays and Sundays the crowds are particularly large, owing to the arrival of those who take off the weekend in order to do homage to him.
Those who visit the Swami repeatedly, know that he never eats nor drinks by himself The thought does not seem to arise at all in him. Some of the devotees lean very close to him and put their offerings straight into his mouth. Even as they approach him he casts a piercing glance at them and at the offering, and immediately seems to decide whether to eat it or not. Sometimes he calmly eats what is put in his mouth, otherwise he takes it with his hand and puts it aside. Generally he does not say anything, except for the occasional 'No' or 'I'll eat later,' 'Keep it there' or 'Hm.' When he accepts drinks, he first transfers the money from his right hand to the left, takes the vessel, and drinks it up, right to the very last drop.
His rejection or acceptance of such offerings does not depend on his liking the articles offered or otherwise. For what he rejects when offered by one man, he accepts from another. In one case that I observed, two people offered him orange squash in two bottles. With one he just glanced at the man, and at the drink, and then kept silent, neither accepting not rejecting. People do not know what to do in such a context. The man stood waiting for a full five minutes, and then requested him to accept it. "Put it there," said the Swami, and again kept silent. After further waiting the man put it where indicated, and stretched out his hands for Vibhuti. "Take it," said the Swami, without even looking at him. The man took a pinch of the Vibhuti and left, casting a searching glance at the Swami and at the bottle of squash still untouched. The next man, a poor villager, walked in and offered a bottle of orange squash. With a sidelong glance the Swami changed the money over to the left hand, took the bottle, and drank it up right to the last drop, looking intently as the very last traces ran down the side of the bottle and into his mouth. He returned the bottle with a belch. He next took up a pinch of Vibhuti, put it on the forehead of the villager, and applied a little Kumkum. The man whispered a petition, to which the Swami said, "Nalladu" (Meaning 'approval or 'sanction' in Tamil), and bowing he too left.
One of the visiItors offered the Swami a packet of cigarettes and matches, and tried to put a cigarette in the Swami's mouth, but the Swami took it out and placed it on the side. The man took Vibhuti and left. Another visitor then walked up, put a cigarette in the Swami's mouth, and the latter, like a child, opened it in passive acceptance. When it was lit, the Swami immediately started taking brisk, rapid inhalations of the smoke, and all his attention seemed to be on his new task. It was like a breathing exercise. After just a dozen rapid puffs he had finished more than half of the cigarette, and the man who had offered it bowed gratefully, picked up some Vibhuti and left. The next visitor extended a sweet to the Swami's mouth. The Swami seemed to waken from his engrossment in smoking, looked at it for a moment and took it into his mouth. At the same moment he completely forgot all about the burning cigarette in his hand. A few more people came, and the offerings continued. He accepted a tumbler of coconut water from one, a cup of coffee, a soda, an orange drink, some more sweets, some mango, and so on. It was stupefying to see how he could go on accepting whatever was offered. When it seemed that the fullness of his stomach was the reason of refusing more offerings, he suddenly accepted something from the next person.
Nobody knows exactly who he is He was found for over thirty years wandering about in the neighbouring villages and towns. He never spoke to anyone, never asked anyone for anything, never changed his clothes, never washed. He answered the calls of nature wherever he sat, and never ever washed himself. Yet strangely enough he was never found stinking. When things were offered to him, he would only rarely accept. He only ate what people placed in his mouth, never taking any food in his hands. If he took any cigarettes or matches, they would be seen tied up in a portion of his clothes, but they would never see him smoking them. When in the vicinity of Poondi or Kalasapakkam, he would sit mostly in the sand of an adjoining rivulet. Neither the sweltering heat of the sands on a summer noon, nor the biting cold of winter nights could drive him any place to seek shelter from the extremes of weather. He was found lying for days on end in the hot sands. When it rained, he seemed to be unaware of it. Occasionally he would walk into and around the villages, and would sit wherever suited. He never answered questions of people, regarding his name, place or age. He would bless when his blessings were sought. Very few people recognised him to be the Saint that he undoubtedly was. Most people took him to be a madman. It was a peculiar incident that brought him to the attention of the public. Once he sat on the riverbed, even when the water in it rose up. Usually he sat on a bank and the water flowed past him on either side, but on this occasion the river was quite full. The villagers thought that he had been washed away by the swirling waters, or that he must have been buried in the sand. After some days the water level fell, and huge sand dunes were left behind. Nearly twenty-five days later, when some people were removing the sand heaps, they found the Swami lying under the sand. As soon as the sand was removed, the Swami got up as though from a sleep, and just walked into the village. In this way the Swami was recognised, and so he came to be venerated. Once a milkman of Poondi was carrying five litres of milk on his head. On the way he met the Swami and offered him some. He kept on offering it until the Swami had drunk it all up, and he considered this a rare honour. On another occasion, on Deepavali day, he went and sat in the frontyard of a house nearby the Ishwara temple in Kalasapakkam. The housewife came out and was overjoyed to see, the Swami, and offered an oilbath, as is the custom on a holy day. After he kept quiet she applied the oil to his head and body herself and then requested him to go to a pool nearby, where he could take a bath. The Swami agreed and went to the pool, smeared himself with soapnut water and then stretched himself out on the ground. The lady thought that the Swami must have left after taking the bath, and so did not go to look for him. But in fact he remained on the ground for a few days, until a passerby noticed him lying there all covered with termites. He immediately cleared the Swami's body and asked him to get up. The Swami stood up, told the man not to trouble the insects as they were only feeding on him, and then walked away. On another occasion the Swami was seen at a temple in Palagoil, and he used to lie down in the temple in such a way that the Abhisheka water would fall on to his head.
"Paramahamsas like Samvartaka, Aruni, Swetaketu, Jadabharata, Dattatreya, Suka, Vamadeva, Haritaka and others, take eight mouthfuls only, and strive after Moksha alone, through the path of Yoga. They live clothed or naked, at the foot of trees, in ruined houses, or in burning-grounds. With them are no dualities such as Dharma and Adharma, gain and loss, purity and impurity. They look upon gold and stone with the same eye, living on alms, begging from all without any distinction of caste, and looking upon everything as Atma alone. Living as nature made them, freed from the sense of duality, from covetousness, and being engaged in pure Contemplation (Sukla Dhyana) , meditating on Atma, and begging just enough to keep the body and soul together. They reside in ruined houses, temples, straw huts, anthills, the foot of trees, potteries, places of Agnihotra, the sand in the bed of rivers, mountain caves, cavities, hollows of trees, waterfalls etc. Having advanced far on the path of Brahman, being pure in mind, they leave the body through the method prescribed for Paramahamsa Sanyasins."

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parvathamalai swamigal

Parvathamalai

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Parvathamalai's 500 years old sivan temple by SenShots / SenDiL.

Parvathamalai is located at Thenmahadevamangalam village which is about 20 kms off Polur. Polur is some 35 kms north of Thiru Annamalai (Arunachala). There's a very powerful Lord Shiva temple at the top of the Parvathamalai hill. Devas and spiritual beings from other lokas worship here every night. This is a place visited by numerous Siddhas for Shiva worship. Reaching the hill is somewhat difficult. Hence it is better to start early in the morning and return as early as possible. During the Pournami full moon, this hill attracts a lot of devotees. This is a place vested with a lot of spiritual power.

For more information: http://www.hindu.com/2006/12/05/stories/2006120503010200.htm

"The Siddhas have spoken volumes about Pancha Nathana Nataraja. They say that this deity is such a rarity in the Universe that even the Devas would give anything just for the chance of worshipping him. They say that on the Nataraja Abisheka days which occur in certain Tamil months (Chitra, Aani, Aavani, Purattaasi, Margazhi and Maasi), the Devas perform their worship to this deity in subtle form. This kind of worship is similar to the sookshma worship done by the Devas at the peak of the Arunachala Hill and on the Parvathamalai Hill."


Parvathamalai is part of the Javadhi hills and located 25 km north of Tiruvannamalai. You can get there by taking a car or bus from Tiruvannamalai to Kadaladi, from where you can undertake the trek. Alternatively you can go Thenmadhimangalam village (which is about 20 kms from Polur), which provides another route to the top. Although less bumpy the Thenmadhimangalam route is longer.

Works relating to a Rs.8,000,000/- (U.S.$181,200) tourism infrastructure development for Parvathamalai hill in Tiruvannamalai District has now been completed.

This upgrade includes: providing Black topping to Parvathamali Road, construction of a waiting shed at Pachiamman Temple, Parvathamalai, formation of foot-path with hand rails from Pachaiamman Temple to Veerapathiran Temple, construction of restroom complex for men and women, formation of foot-path with hand rails from Veerapathiran Temple to Parvathamalai Hill, providing steps at Parvathamalai Temple pathway, providing water supply to the top of the Hill Mandapam and providing electric poles with lights on pathway.

It is becoming increasingly popular for pilgrims and tourists to trek up the Parvathamalai Hill on a full moon day/night.




The arduous walk can take up to a total of 10 hours, starting through the hill forest and finishing up with a final sharp ascent of about 3,000 feet to reach the Hill top.


As well as some other structures, there is also a very powerful Shiva temple at the top of Parvathamalai Hill, and it is believed that Devas, Siddhas and spiritual beings from other worlds worship on the top of the Hill every night. The above is a photograph of the entrance to the Temple.


Nandi facing the Lingam at doorway of inner shrine.



Shiva Lingam at Parvathamalai Temple on top of the Parvathamalai Hill.











(Biravan,taking rest)



(Long way to go)




(Have to reach that Top)





(Risky and Thrilling)





(Ah,Finally)

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