It was a hot summer evening. My father, who never failed to offer arghyam (an offering to the Sun God) thrice a day, was immersed in his prayer, standing in a small puddle of water in the Swarnamukhi River. During summer, the big river dries up, leaving just puddles of water in the areas where the depth is high.
This happened nearly five decades ago in a hamlet called Gudivada Agraharam in the then Srikakulam district of Andhra Pradesh. I was six and used to accompany my father every day to the river.
We would cut the grass on the river bank and carry them home where they would become fodder for cows. On the fateful day, we both went to the river, as usual. I was building a sand castle on its bank, behind a thick bush. All of a sudden, there was a big splash in the river. My father stood there frozen.
A panther was there to drink water. It had jumped into a puddle causing the splash. My father felt he was staring death in the face. “Death is inevitable,” he told himself. His immediate priority was not to save himself, but to make sure that I was out of harm’s way. Once he found I was at a safe distance, he began worrying about the family. “The children are so young,” he said to himself. “How would my wife raise them alone?” he wondered.
Looking towards the sun, he said “O God, what a precarious position you have put me in!”
The wild beast kept staring at him. Had he moved an inch forward or backward, it might have pounced on him. However, standing still was also not a bright idea, he thought.Plunging into the depths of the river to avoid being attacked was an option. But it was impossible to stay under the water for long. Who knows when the beast might leave.
The only choice left was to pray and leave his fate to the God. As he started praying, something strange happened. Instead of attacking him, the beast made a loud howl and left the river. It jumped into a nearby bush and disappeared. It was a near-death experience for my father who heaved a sigh of relief and lived long to tell the tale.