Do we start to learn right from the womb? I read that babies receive sounds and vibrations from around 23 weeks. They get used to the sound of the mother’s voice, to her breathing and her stomach rumbling. They ingest amniotic fluid flavoured by the mother’s taste in food. Their heartbeats apparently slow down to a relaxed state when soothing music is played. So auditory influences are important.
One of the earliest tales that we know, of being influenced from the womb, is that of Prahlad. His father, the asura or titan Hiranyakashipu, overwhelmed the three worlds and declared himself the only God. He demanded absolute worship and decreed that all other gods were false. We know how that story ended. But Prahlad’s heart belonged to Lord Vishnu. This was because when his mother was expecting him, she was visited by the divine sage, Narada.
The celestial seer was besotted with Lord Vishnu and exclaimed with every other breath: “Narayan! Narayan!” He stayed on in Patal, the netherworld, to amuse Prahlad’s mother, and crammed her head with Vishnu lore. The baby heard every word and absorbed it all. He grew up to be a meek child in every other way but not in this. “Never in this, Father,” he said calmly, bowing low. “I must worship Lord Vishnu or it makes me cross.” A world of unspoken asura temper there, which secretly pleased Hiranyakashipu. At least Prahlad was not like a mawkish earthling. But Prahlad, thanks to learning Vishnu love from the womb, was our first known satyagrahi, whose nonviolent noncooperation eventually won the day. This story was deeply internalised in India. In my view, it was the underlying seed or example that was followed millennia later in Gandhi’s satyagraha. Whether this is acknowledged or not, it existed already in the collective consciousness as a way to get your way.
Another famous story is that of the unfortunate Abhimanyu in the Mahabharata. To recap, his father Arjuna told his mother Subhadra, who was then expecting him, about the Chakravyuha battle tactic. One wonders why he did so when Subhadra, despite being Sri Krishna’s sister, was scarcely expected to pick up a sword in that family of supermen. Alas, Subhadra nodded off in the middle. So the baby learned how to get into the Chakravyuha but not out of it.
This proved fatal on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Six doughty Kaurava warriors bludgeoned 16-year-old Abhimanyu to death, even after he fell. It is one of several shameful acts in the chronicle of the Kauravas, and a lesson not to be overconfident when possessed of only half knowledge.
Yet another poignant story is that of Ashtavakra, whose name means ‘Eight Twists’. Ashtavakra heard slokas being recited right from when he was in his mother’s womb. One day, while still inside, he heard his father, Kahoda, make a mistake in recitation. The baby spoke up, correcting him. This was because he did not want his father caught out in public. His angry father cursed him to be born deformed. Poor, loyal Ashtavakra. However, he went on to be a great scholar and authored a book on philosophy called the Ashtavakra Gita. He even avenged his father who had killed himself in disgrace after losing a scholarly debate. While Abhimanyu’s story cautions us of the perils of half knowledge, Ashtavakra’s sorry plight is perhaps intended as a warning to never speak out of turn, since not everyone accepts correction gracefully or in good spirit.
While these stories come from scripture, I also have a curious tale to share from our times. It was told to me by a very well-educated, well-placed Maharashtrian, about himself.
It was 1962. His mother was in Pune, expecting him, while his father, a soldier, was away at the front, fighting against Chinese aggression. The distressing news arrived that the father had been wounded in action and his arm might have to be amputated. The mother prayed to Ma Tulaja Bhavani.
‘Tulaja’ or ‘Tulja Bhavani’ is a form of Parvati. ‘Bhavani’ means the ‘giver of life’, the Jagatjanani. This ancient holy site is reportedly mentioned in the Skanda Purana, while the present temple goes back to the 12th century. It is in Tuljapur in Maharashtra, not far from Solapur. Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj is said to have prayed there frequently. The goddess is believed to have bestowed a sword on him called the ‘Bhavani khadga’ or ‘Bhavani’s sword’. The goddess apparently draws devotees from Maharashtra, Telangana, Karnataka and even Nepal. Her temple is considered a very jagrut or powerful place.
The wounded soldier’s wife prayed to this Amman or Mother to save her husband’s arm. She was a Maratha and was used to eating meat but swore to give it up for life as a mark of faith. The arm was saved and the mother kept her vow. But strangely, the baby grew up totally intolerant of meat. He spat it out, made faces, howled in protest and threw up even when fed meat in disguise through soup, dal and khichri.
The well-meaning parents who were anxious to feed their son his share of protein could not understand his revulsion. The possible reason struck them only when they went on pilgrimage to Tulja Bhavani Temple. He had been part of his mother’s body when she took her vow and obviously upheld it after he was born. They accepted his food preference after that. He has remained a vegetarian right through, which really makes you wonder at both divinity and Mother Nature’s ways.
Renuka Narayanan