Raghunath Learns British Etiquette

Victoria Terminus (VT Railway Station)

In the late 1920s and early 1930s, our Shenoy family relocated from Padubidri, a village in Karnataka, to what was then Bombay. Around the same time, Bhagavan Nityananda also moved to the city, accompanied by a few devotees from Mangalore. It was during this period that Bhagavan encountered the late Shri Sitaram Shenoy on the steps of Gol Mandir, a temple dedicated to Lord Shiva near Bhuleshwar. From there, Bhagavan accompanied Sitaram Shenoy to his home. The unexpected appearance of Swami at their doorstep filled the entire family with joy. They welcomed Him and insisted He stay for lunch. Bhagavan asked Shri Sitaram to fetch a ‘Kantola’ to prepare ‘fhodi’—a fried delicacy made from spine gourd.

Fhodi of Kantola

 

Once reconnected with Bhagavan Nityananda, our family maintained close ties with Him. Bhagavan could often be found at places like Girgaon Chowpatty, Arrey, the National Park in Borivali, the Kurla Salt Pans, Canary Caves, and the Kurla Pipelines. The Shenoys regularly sought His Darshan, visited Him, or invited Him to their homes and businesses. Bhagavan frequently visited our family’s shop, Shree Guruprasad Harilal Store, located opposite Sandhurst Road Railway Station. He would sometimes ask my uncle, Sitaram, or my father, Raghunath Shenoy, to accompany Him during His visits around Bombay.

VT Station, Canary Caves, 

Raghunath Shenoy often accompanied Bhagavan on various outings, including swims at Chowpatty, trips to the Zoo, and walks through Canary Caves. One day, as Bhagavan and Raghunath strolled through South Mumbai, they found themselves opposite Victoria Terminus Railway Station in the late evening. The grand building was illuminated for a celebration of some kind, with many British officials and elite Indians in attendance. The scene was festive, and Raghunath stood marvelling at the view.

Victoria Terminus Illuminated

Suddenly, Bhagavan turned to Raghunath and asked, “Do you wish to attend the dinner?” This question took Raghunath by surprise, as it was a daunting and risky proposition. For one, Raghunath was not dressed for such an event, and he lacked the etiquette required to navigate a dinner with British officials, noblemen, and industrialists. It was also dangerous, as being caught as an uninvited guest could land him in serious trouble. Yet, Bhagavan insisted.

Raghunath protested, voicing his concerns, but Bhagavan assured him, saying, “Fear not. Walk in confidently with the other guests. When they sit for dinner, you do the same. Spread the large napkin over your thighs to avoid any spillage. You will find a plate with a fork and spoon—hold the fork (kata) in your left hand and the spoon in your right.” Bhagavan then taught Raghunath the dining etiquette, such as how to position the fork and spoon to indicate needing more servings or when finished. Finally, Bhagavan warned him, “Do not speak to anyone. After dinner, leave immediately.”

With no way out and trusting his Sadguru completely, Raghunath gathered his courage and crossed the road to join the gathering. As instructed, he confidently walked into the hall and went through the entire dinner unnoticed. When the meal concluded, he left swiftly, feeling as if he had been invisible the whole time—neither the guards, the hosts, nor the guests seemed to have seen him.

When Raghunath returned to where Bhagavan was waiting, Bhagavan simply asked him to go home. My father often recalled the mixed emotions he felt that day—nervousness, relief, and awe. Yet, he always acknowledged that his Sadguru was there, guiding and protecting him, ensuring that he kept his dignity intact in the eyes of society.