There was a labour minister in England (at that time), who wanted to make India industrialised. He thought of collecting some young people from India, taking them over to England, putting them in some factories for training, developing in them a mechanical bent of mind, and then, sending them back to India. So, a few young people were taken over to England. One of them was Gogoi, a young man from Assam. They were all given scholarships and placed in different places for training.

Then, the war against England started. German blitz every day. Every night, a series of planes came to blast London. Every night, sirens used to sound and the people had to rush to underground shelters. After the enemy planes left, sirens would be sounded again and people would come out of shelters.

This young man from Assam, a poor fellow, could not pay a high rent and therefore, lived in an attic and cooked his food himself, because of his preference for vegetarian food. He was very earnest in his studies and was doing home work at night. Every night, when he was doing homework, sirens would be sounded and he would run to the shelter. He thought it was a nuisance and argued within himself, “Why should I run to a shelter, when the siren is sounded? After all, the German planes may not come at all and even if they come, they may not bomb this area, and even if they bomb this area, it may not fall on this building, and even if it falls on this building, I may not die!” and thought his chances of dying were remote.

In India, we believe in karma, in destiny and if your karma is such, you cannot escape death. You may not die of a German bomb, but die because of a cat! …And this young man, Gogoi, stuck to karmic theory and decided, “Today, when the sirens sound, I will not go out!” There used to be air-raid wardens and when the sirens sounded, they would go round and see whether everyone had gone to the shelter, and whether lights in the houses had been switched off.

On that day, when Gogoi had decided not to go to the shelter, the siren sounded as usual. He switched off the lights, pulled a rug over him, and lay silently, so that not even the sound of his breath could be heard outside! Soon, he heard the sound of boot steps of someone coming up the staircase. It was the air-raid warden! He banged the door and shouted, “Man! You in there! Come out. I know you are there! I am the air-raid warden, the police.” Gogoi was frightened. “Don’t wait to get dressed, come as you are, hurry!” shouted the air-raid warden again. Gogoi had to come out and ran to the shelter. He was the last person to go to the shelter. The air-raid warden followed him and stood at the entrance of the shelter, so that people inside may not come out, until the siren sounded again. When the siren sounded again, Gogoi came out of the shelter, went towards his building, and saw that it had been bombed and there was a heap of dust. He searched for the air-raid warden and didn’t find him anywhere. “Probably, he too has become dust,” he thought and was sad.

Gogoi stayed in England for some time and then, returned to India. He got some job, but was not satisfied with it. He left it to join Mahatma Gandhi’s movement, specialised in co-operative institutions, became a senior officer in the co-operative department, and later, retired. Then, when he was in Bombay, he heard of Sathya Sai Baba and went to Dharmakshetra. He was one of the fifty thousand people there. Because he went late, he was seated somewhere on the edge of the gathering. Then, a volunteer came running towards him. Baba had sent him. He had told that volunteer, “Look here! Right behind that last line, there is a person so and so and of such and such description. Ask him to come and sit in the first line.” The volunteer brought him to the first line.

Gogoi was surprised, “I just wanted to have a distant glimpse of Him out of sheer curiosity and He wants me to come and sit in the front line!” He was wondering what he was in for? Swami came and stood right in front of him, and said, “You must come and settle down in Prasanthi Nilayam. That is why I saved your life!” Gogoi thought, “What is it? A tall claim! What does He mean by saving my life? He Is seeing me for the first time!” Swami asked him, “Do you know the air-raid warden?” Gogoi answered, “Yes, I remember. He insisted on my going to the shelter. Otherwise, I would have died. He saved my life, but poor fellow, he died.” Swami said, “No. I Am The Air-Raid Warden!”

II Samastha Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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The pioneers of independence were straining their every nerve to break down the hide bound taboos of society, but this simple woman of the village who had hardly heard of the crusade against orthodoxy, found that she too was hustled willy nilly against the barricades of tradition. She sat beside not only princesses but women of the Anglo Indian community and those of castes considered ‘un touchable’. Who dares pick and choose among devotes? It is the inalienable right of all mankind to reach towards the Divine! And Easwaramma was ‘Mother’ to whole neighbourhoods in the cities. Her ‘daughters’ gathered around, speaking a medley of tongues, Hindi, Marathi, Tamil and Telugu. To them all, her answer was one simple sentence in Telugu. The only language she knew. “Anthaa Swami daya, Amma.” “It is all Swami’s Grace, my child.” But it was uttered with so much benediction and assurance, that no one wished to miss the sweetness of hearing them spoken.

Among the devotees were Hanumantha Rao, the Inspector General of Prisons of the Madras Presidency, Navaneetam Naidu, the Commissioner of Excise, Mysore, Ranajodh Singh, Mysore’s Inspector General of Police, the Raja of Sandur and others, seeking Swami’s advice on matters both official and personal. Easwaramma sat confounded as she watched this line up of the powerful and the prestigious. “How is he going to set right the affairs of palaces?” she wondered when the aristocrats of Mysore sat at his feet. “What does he know of Patel (Vallabh bhai Patel) at Delhi?” She questioned herself anxiously as she overheard Swami’s words to the Raja, but she did not have to worry that Swami was over reaching himself. Soon enough these people were back with beaming smiles on happy faces.

Sathya’s absence from Puttaparthi became more frequent. Who heeded the ‘boon’ she had extracted from her son that he would remain at Puttaparthi? Certainly not the devotees like Sakamma from Bangalore, the Princesses from Mysore, the Chincholi family from Hyderabad, the Mudaliars of Madras and the Chettiars from Kuppam, Karur, Udumalpet and Trichinopoly. They were convinced that Swami belonged to them, for had He not indeed come for his devotees? And not Sathya either. He, like Krishna, wished to bless the poor, the sick and the old who could not afford or survive the journey to Puttaparthi. And all those who delighted so greatly in Swami’s company, in His pranks, songs and conversation, wished to share this incomparable discovery of theirs, this unfailing source of joy, with every one they knew, their relatives and their rivals, their friends and their foes, their neighbours and non believers too. They begged Swami to stay a ‘few’ days with them but not even a whole month ever amounted to a ‘few’ days as they counted!

Easwaramma longed to accompany Him whenever He left his ‘Sthan’ (that is, His permanent place of residence as she loved to refer to Puttaparthi, feeling the comfort and reassurance of this possessive phrase). But how could she do so every time when so many family problems pressed upon her? When Sathya went off on His journey Easwaramma could only pray to the guardian gods and goddesses to protect im from the many strange types of food and perhaps the unfamiliar varieties of air and water too that he would have to imbibe!

Swami was just out of His teens and at Bangalore when He did fall ill just as Easwaramma had feared. His hosts, Raja Setty and Sakamma, called in the doctors. But no one could diagnose the trouble. How could they, for Swami announced, “I have willed the illness!” He quoted precedents, from the lives of Rama and Shirdi Baba to show that they too had had an apathetic distaste for food and fun for some years during their teenage. This ‘illness’ was therefore indispensable for Him, Swami said, spending hours trying to reassure His devotees.

At last, besieged by insistent questioning, Swami confessed that He was in the process of remoulding His physical frame so that it might withstand the Divine Energy stirring within, for He had to embark on His Avataric Tasks. Such incomprehensible words, such tremendous mysterious happenings …whoever had the experience of anything like this? Men and women stood around Him dumb and distraught.

When I saw Swami for the first time I was told that His body had only just got back to normal. His voice was still feeble and faint then, his walk, slow and hesitant and his mop of hair almost too heavy for His neck. I could imagine the mother’s anguish as she helplessly watched the tender body of her son being ‘overhauled’ by the very Source of its sustenance. And this wasn’t all. There were many such moments of tension in store for her still. They were obviously lessons designed to promote her from the consciousness of being ‘Amma’ to an awareness of being ‘Easwaramma’. From the delusions that she was the ‘mother of Sathya’ to the truth that she was the ‘woman blessed to be the mother of Easwara’ (Easwara is the concept of the Absolute as conditioned by name and form). She was therefore soon to be a mother showering affection on all living beings. “I do not belong to you.” Sathya told her. “To whom then do I belong?” was her response. “To you belong the world and its peoples,” was the answer, the lesson he was giving her.

It was on Vijayadashami, the tenth day of Dasara, that Shirdi Sai Baba had given up his mortal body. Now at Puttaparthi even as puja, bhajans, processions and the mass feeding of the poor were being organised by devotees, Swami who had announced that he was that Shirdi spirit come again to expand and continue the same task, would ‘fall’ at Puttaparthi to ‘rise’ at Shirdi and bless the devotees, during the festivities there. When Swami came back, He told the gathering at the Mandir that He had been to Shirdi and had decided to grant Darshan there on every Vijayadashami day. Year after year, Easwaramma witnessed this scene that strengthened her faith in the Divine origin of her son.

But, these incidents were not limited to Vijayadashami day. Easwaramma was soon to make the discovery that Swami belonged to the world, that even as His body was there before her very eyes, He himself flees to answer someone who calls on God. There were out of the body journeys at all hours of the day and night. He would often tell them the details of His errands of mercy when He returned from these distant sojourns—dacoity in a Telangana valley, floods in Rajahmundry, a car accident on the roads of Karnataka, a fire in Madras – He was here, there, everywhere, in homes, hospitals or jungles with His miraculous help.

Easwaramma listened with rapt wonder. It was only natural that her mind ran to the stories from the epics in which the villages are steeped. Didn’t Krishna rush to the city of Hastinapur to save the honour of the Queen of the Pandavas when their enemies, the Kauravas, tried to disrobe her in open court? Wasn’t He there again with them in the jungles where they lived in exile when the Kauravas arranged a provocative situation to expose the Pandavas to the curses of the bad tempered Sage Durvasa? As soon as Swami came back to consciousness there would be excited questions from Easwaramma. “Did Draupadi call you to Hastinapur or to the jungle? Did you hear the elephant trumpet in despair when the crocodile gripped its leg?” (This last refers to a story from the Puranas when the Lord Narayana hurries to save the king of the elephants.) And Swami would say, “Yes, There are Draupadis now too and wicked Kauravas also, determined to insult them. There are still Durvasas with fiery tempers ever ready to bully the helpless and parade their power to curse. There are human crocodiles hiding in calm waters waiting to pounce on their victims. I have come to show them all that I am here to protect whoever calls on God.”

Swami’s words to Easwaramma were the same that once were spoken by the Lord to Joshua: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed for the Lord thy God is with thee whither so ever thou goest.”

“Neither be thou dismayed?” But who would not be alarmed at Swami’s ever increasing display of His powers? He had begun surgical operations now! He did a tonsils operation on a child who was the nephew of no less a dignitary than the Inspector General of Prisons of the Madras Presidency. He coolly invited Dr. Padmanabhan of Bangalore to send his 17 years old brother to Puttaparthi saying, “Why take the trouble to put him in the Victoria Hospital? I shall do the hernia operation and he will be up and about, perfectly fine ten minutes later.” There was an operation on Thirumala Rao, another VIP from Bangalore. The surgery was done with knives, scissors, needles and swabs, all created in seconds with just a few circular movements of His right or left hand. The Vibhuti He produced was anaesthetic, antiseptic and tonic, all in one. The patients recovered in record time. And the wonder grew in Easwaramma’s voice and eyes. There was greater and greater fervour each time she spoke the word ‘Swami’ now.

It was not wonder alone but a measure of resignation too that had come. The old puzzlement and fear were dying fast in her. She grew to accept the fact that the circumstances of her life, the who and the what, the where and the why, were unalterable and most often incomprehensible Acts of God. The stories from the epics, the great ‘oral culture’ of India that pervades the subconscious of its people, had long ago taught them that the truths of life are mysteries that lie beyond the mind’s mere understanding. But, there still did linger a thin haze of dust that hid the total Swami from her view. She could not quite rid herself of the belief that the ‘evil eye’ could affect this wondrous boy of hers. He would protest, but she insisted on carrying out the ritual of averting it – the coconut waved around the body to draw the subtle waves or particles of evil towards it which was then broken in a symbolic act of destruction.

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II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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Prasanthi Nilayam was inaugurated on Swami’s Birthday in 1950. The Birthday until that year had been rather informal. Swami delighted the Mother and the Father and their sons and daughters by visiting their home and going through the ritual of lunch in their company. After the parents had placed a few drops of oil on His cluster of hair, the ceremonial bath was gone through and Swami fulfilled the longing of some devotee by accepting the robe and dhoti he placed at His feet. All those present then touched His feet praying for boons and blessings.

Prasanthi Nilayam, however, challenged the devotees to inaugurate a more impressive although still intimate celebration of the Birthday of their dear Lord. Elderly women gathered at the Nilayam in the early hours of the twenty-third day of November. Each one had a plate on which were piles of flowers, fruits, sweets, coconuts, turmeric, kumkum, rice grains, betel leaves and areca, sandal paste, blocks of jaggery, glass bangles and other auspicious materials. Shining pots filled with consecrated water were carried on their hips. One of the groups bore a silver plate with a silk sari upon it. A few elderly men joined them with a silk dhoti for the father and they proceeded to Puttaparthi village preceded by pipers and drummers. When they reached the Ratnakaram home, they announced to the parents that it was the Birthday of Bhagawan and invited them to Prasanthi Nilayam. One could sense a feeling of awkwardness and unpreparedness that dimmed their eyes, for, both of them would rather be left alone than be placed before the flood lights on the centre of the stage. Nevertheless the Mother and Pedda Venkama Raju did fulfill the wishes of the thousands. They were overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity given to them by Swami.

As soon as they stood before Him they lost all sense of time and space. Easwaramma placed flowers on Swami’s feet and stood up to dip a rose in oil. When she lifted her palm to drop the oil on the Son’s hair, He bent low so that the head would be within reach. The father too did the same and as both of them descended from the dais, the devotees hailed the occasion expressing their joy in loud acclaim. It was only then that Easwaramma became aware of the Hall and the crowd, the Nilayam and the village. It was an embarrassing moment for her. But she was soon relieved, for she found another wedded couple climbing the steps to place flowers at Swami’s feet and apply oil on His hair. Swami selected about eight others to share in the joyous ceremony. They come from different linguistic and geographical regions and are invariably old in age and rooted in faith. Easwaramma shunned publicity and prominence and loved to lose her identity in a group of devotees but on the Birthday she had to submit to what she dreaded most a pre-eminent love.

During Swami’s discourses, she stood for a few minutes somewhere on the circumference of the audience, thrilled by the free flow of His silver voice. And when the applause sounded in the auditorium she wondered what He had said that could evoke such spontaneous acclamation. When she next passed by my residence she would ask me in confidence, “Was what Swami spoke so profound? Where does He gather all these mantras?” By ‘mantras’ she meant the Sanskrit verses, the Upanishadic lines, the Vedic hymns that Swami quoted. When the monthly magazine, Sanathana Sarathi, was inaugurated, she could not suppress her curiosity to know the number of people to whom it was sent. When I informed her that devotees not merely demanded it but actually adored the issues as they arrived by post considering them ‘Prasad’ granted by Swami Himself, I found her not quite happy. She could not forget the fact that Sathya had left school too early and that He was venturing into depths that no one, known to her, would dare plumb.

Easwaramma found that doctors and lawyers, monks and merchants, Rajas and Princes were coming to Puttaparthi and, sitting around Swami, pleading for answers and solutions to the doubts and questions they placed before Him. She herself only understood conversational Telugu but she could see the relief and rejoicing that settled on their distracted faces when they heard Swami’s words in reply. She gasped when Swami gave them His assurance, “Don’t worry. I will be with you… Why bother? I am yours.” He was promising too much to too many, she felt in alarm, and it took years for her to get rid of this fear. She had no knowledge that Avatars could address gatherings and transform base metal into gold through the alchemy of speech. The Rama and Krishna she knew had been householders who had themselves learnt from sages. Krishna inspired and instructed others to obey Him and be saved. Rama had no time or inclination to give discourses on Dharma; He just lived it and people learnt it. Easwaramma feared that some day some old pundit would arrive and silence her Son. It took some years before her heart was set at rest. Meanwhile, people of all races and all levels of civilisation were arriving with hope and departing with faith after hearing Swami’s intimate instructions imparted in confidence in their own native dialects and languages.

Mother was happy when Swami was before her eyes. She grew nervous whenever He proposed to leave Puttaparthi on a visit to distant villages and towns. She was afraid that He would stay on indefinitely or go on from there to other places nearby. She had heard that there was a wave of atheism and religious irreverence invading village after village in the southern parts of the country and so, when a group of elders from V. arrived and prayed that Swami accompany them to their town she resolved to countermand the visit at all costs.

Srimathi Susheelamma, who witnessed her frantic efforts, gives this description of her agitation: “They do not know the real situation in that place, or if they do, they don’t care what happens to Swami or themselves. It is sheer bravado”, Easwaramma told herself as she hurried to the Nilayam in hot haste. Swami was in the dining room and at the table, ready to go through the rite called lunch when Easwaramma came in gasping for breath, for she had climbed the steps at one stretch, “Why this excitement? What has happened?” Swami asked, pretending to be ignorant of her mission. The mother said, “I have heard some news. Is it true?” “First tell me what they have told you” Swami replied. “I won’t tell You until You give me Your word that You won’t go now to any town”, she insisted. Swami had a hearty laugh at her anxiety. “How can I stick to this one room all the time? I have come from where I was in order to go to places near and far”, He said. “That is not the point. Have You agreed to go with these people to V., tell me,” the Mother asked, her voice shaking with trepidation. “Promise me that You won’t go to that place. That is all I ask. Listen to me. Heed my prayer. They say it is a centre of wickedness and cruelty. When I say don’t, don’t” she pleaded. “That is the very reason I have agreed to go there. The doctor visits only the sick. How can people who are seriously ill harm the doctor? I do not hate them, so, they will not hate Me. I am not angry with them; so, they won’t be angry with Me,” He replied. But the mother’s fears held on. She shed tears and looking straight into Swami’s eyes said, “What more can I say? Bangaroo. Send these people away. Give me this one boon”. Swami rose and holding both her hands in His soft grasp, He wiped her tears and spoke so sweetly that she left the room greatly relieved.

Yet, she met the group of hosts and requested them to be ever vigilant of who approached Swami and when. She was lost in prayer all the days that Baba was away, and she was right there at the door when He returned. As soon as He spotted her, Swami said, “Do you care to know what happened there? I plucked the fangs of every serpent!”

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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The picture of Baba holding two huge Alsa­tians, which appears in this Special Birthday Number will be of great interest to those who have read the commentary of Vishnu Suri on the fourth Anuvaka of Sri Rudradhyaya, especially the 17th Mantra “Namah svabhyah svapathibhyascha vo namah.” Vishnu Suri explains that svabhyah refers to dogs, i.e., forms of Avidya, the four legs and tail of the dog being the symbols of the activities of the five senses, the illusion of I and Mine being symbolised by the two ears, and the entire animal, representing the tendency to engage Oneself in actions, with a perpetual desire to enjoy the fruits thereof. And, svapathibhyah, according to him, refers to the masters of dogs, the mighty personages, the avatar purushas who hold the Avidya in check and help to lessen and destroy its evil and who facilitate the manifestation of Vidya. In fact, for those who have eyes to see and the wisdom to understand, there is always a deeper meaning in whatever Baba does!

For the generality of Bhaktas, however, Baba’s animal pets and the Prema that He bestows on them is just an object-lesson, in the kinship of all creation and the spirit of loving service of all living things. A long chapter can be written on the Prema that Baba bestows on the cows in His Goshala, how He daily visits the cows and tenderly feeds them with His own Hand, and how they too react, most devotedly to His affection and solicitude. Baba has had as pets under His care deer, peacocks, stags, rabbits etc., but in this article, it is proposed to give an account only of the dogs, who had the good fortune to be fondled by His loving Hands.

Jack and Jill were the earliest recipients of Baba’s grace. They were two lovely little Pomeranians from Ootacamund and perhaps, they were in some past birth, attached to some Divine Personage; for, it was noted that they actually fasted on every Thursday and desisted from eating flesh on all days! The Thursday fast of these canine devotees put many a human Bhakta to shame. They were inseparable companions of Baba and used to sleep, Jack at the head of the bed and Jill at His Feet. Who can say what dreams they had inside their half-shut eyes, while Baba stroked their silken fur with His motherly affection?

After some years of Samipya, Jack breathed his last in the lap of Baba. The previous night Jack had gone across the river to Karnatanagapalli, following the foot-steps of a chauffeur and lay under the car, all unknown to the occupants. Jack had a way of volunteering to keep watch over the cars, which in those days, had to be kept on the other bank. Next morning, when the driver started the car, Jack was run over, but he could drag himself along the sand to Puttaparthi and the Mandir, where Baba was engaged in writing letters. Jack knew that his end was near and so, he heroically gathered strength and pulled himself forward until he fell on Baba’s lap and with eyes glistening in joy and fixed on Baba’s face, he bade farewell to this final interlude in his career. Jill followed him, soon after. Baba had them buried with some ceremony and got a Brindavan erected over their mortal remains. This can now be seen behind the Old Mandir, in the Quadrangle.

Chitty and Bitty succeeded them; they too were Pomeranians, from Kodaikanal and, within a few years, they finished their round of birth and death and a Samadhi at Ootacamund marks the spot where they are laid to eternal rest. Baba has lead other Pomeranians with Him, like Lilly and Billy. He blessed with His care and love, a pair of Cocker Spaniels, Minnie and Mickie and another pair, Honey and Goldie. The very names He gave to these animal devotees reveal the sweetness of His Grace and, the Prema that He bestowed on them.

Latterly, Baba has had a few Alsatians in the Mandir like Rover and Rita and, the two proud dogs which have the good fortune to be illustrated in this month’s “Sanathana Sarathi” with their Master, Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba. They are named Tommy and Henry. Maurice Maeterlinck the poet, has said that dogs teach us, by their single-minded devotion and unquestioning obedi­ence, how we have to behave towards the Lord. If their behaviour to us, ordinary folk, is itself so elevated and exemplary, how much more sincere and unselfish they must be, when Bhagawan Himself condescends to handle and fondle them!

These animal Bhaktas of the Lord are as important for Him, as the human; He can speak to them in the language they can understand; He helps in their promotion, to the hither stages of spiritual evolution; He knows, which among them deserve His attention and His care. We, to whom the animal world is different and dumb, have to learn, just this one lesson, by observing Baba’s affection for them: never to harm any living thing, for our sustenance or pleasure; never to lose an opportunity for lessening the suffering or pain of an animal brother of ours.

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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Once during Dasara, Swami asked me to speak before He spoke, and I began in my own enthusiastic manner about ‘Sarvathah Paanipadam”.  I said, “Swami’s Feet are everywhere. He told one Dixit of Mangalore that He would come to his house in December. Dixit asked, Swami which December? Swami said, ‘This December,’ and gave him the date.

On this day, Dixit was not in the house, and the women were taking their meals. There was a knock at the door. ‘Dikshit, Dikshit.’ It was Swami’s voice. They stopped eating, got up and ran to the front door, and opened it. Swami was not there. But, there was a line of Footprints, right Foot and left Foot, in Vibhuti, from outer door to shrine room. Devotees who came to see removed Vibhuti from Footprints as ‘prasadam.’ Only one Footprint was saved from being washed out, and the Vibhuti in it began to grow, upto two centimeter thick and stopped growing. The house became a place of pilgrimage. So, His Feet Are Everywhere.” I said this and sat down happily.

Swami Who spoke next said, referring to me, “This fellow says something, but does not believe what he says. He says, My Feet are everywhere, but, when I go to Whitefield, or some other place and stay there for a week or more, he writes letters to Me saying, “Swami! When am I to get Your Feet to fondle them, to massage them, and be at Your Feet?” Why? Whenever he wants to fondle My Feet, massage My Feet, he can do so wherever he is, because My Feet Are Everywhere! But, he identifies My Feet with these two Feet. So he does not believe what he says”.

Kasturi ji writes further:

‘Saksi’ – God is a witness. Always remember that God’s eye watches you always. Swami is ‘Saksi’. He sees everything. He tells you. “I know, I know.” He knows, He watches, He warns. It is only He Who can do that all over the globe, watching, warning, awakening, directing, guiding, guarding all, with His eyes on us.

Then,’Nivasa’, residence. We reside in Him, and He resides in us. He is the Nivasa. That is why He is called Vasudeva. You cannot escape Him.

A Norway man Tideman Johanson, a marine engineer, had a special equipment by which grains coming in steamers from abroad could be pumped on to shore and put into wagons. He was in India, and later went to Chittagong in Bangladesh with Swami’s permission to install the same equipment in that harbour. He came to Whitefield, and finding people all around Swami, slipped into a corner and sat quietly. Swami watched him, went to him and asked “Where is the ring?” He had given him a ring, but his finger was empty now. He said, “Swami! I was sliding down on a rope from a steamer and it slipped and fell into Chittagong river.” Swami said, “Papam” poor fellow, and waved His hand and materialized a ring. I was tempted to ask “Is it the same ring Swami?” Everybody there wanted an answer to that question, but nobody dared to ask.

Dr. Bhagawantham, former Scientific Advisor to the Defence Ministry of India and former Vice Chancellor of two universities could not restrain his scientific curiosity, and asked “Is it the same one Swami?” Swami looked at him rather angrily, and said, “Yidena nee nammakam?” “Is this your faith after all? It fell into My hands. I was in that river!” Imagine, who could say that, “Sarvatah Paanipadam” He has His hands everywhere. We read it in the Gita, we repeat it, but we don’t believe it. That is why God has come again, to make us believe.
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Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu

“Your letter has not reached me yet; but, I have read it already. You posted it to Madras, not knowing that I have come back here. I was near you when you wrote it. Your mother must now be very much better; is it not?” This is what Baba wrote to a devotee, some years back. He is Sarvantaryami; He is in all places, at all times.

Our letter did not reach Him. Even when it reaches Him, He need not open it and read the contents!

One day, I happened to be in His room when the post came. When He dropped on the floor one letter unread and unopened, some newly arrived person muttered, “Swami, you have not read that letter. It may be some tale of misery.” Baba smiled and said, “No, No. It is a tale of joy, He says that a son has been born to him; but, he is worried that the baby was born with frontal teeth.” Then, He told us the whole story with the envelop in His hand.

“A Vaisya couple from a village in Telengana had come on pilgrimage to Puttaparthi a year ago; they prayed that they may be blessed with progeny. I gave the man an apple and asked him to share it with his wife. He took it in his hand and examined it. Finding some marks on the skin, indicating that it might have been bitten by a rat or so, he asked Me what it was, evidently nervous about eating it. I told him that they both could eat it. ‘Only, the baby will have two frontal at birth. Don’t worry.’

He has now written that the child has been born and, (here, He tore open the envelope, took out the letter and turning over the lines showed us the very sentence) “he has asked Me whether any Shanti has to be performed, to alleviate what he fears to be a calamity!”

Looking at that sentence, we stood amazed, in the resplendent Presence of Bhagawan.

Baba is Sarvajna, Sarvasaktha, Sarvaantaryami.

II Samastha Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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Writing of Sri Sadguru Sai Baba, Hemadpanth writes, “Sai Baba had the peculiar, disinterested and extraordinary Love of the Mother; His joy knew no bounds, when He saw His children beautifully dressed and adorned. He knew the wants of His children long before-hand and He took great pleasure in fulfilling them.”

Everyone who has come to Sri Sathya Sai Baba, the present manifestation of that same Mother, will describe Him too in the same words. Every devotee, however old, becomes in the presence of Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, a little child and, just as a child takes refuge in the mother’s lap and sobs out to her all its fears and worries, he too pours out his troubles and gets consoled.

In the Markandeya Purana, Devi is described thus: Durge smrthaa harasi bheethim asesha janthoh. “If remembered in times of trouble, She destroys the fear of all living things.” We all know that Baba need only be remembered and He flees thousands of miles in an instant, to succour and give relief. The sloka continues: Swasthaiah smrthaa, mathim atheevasubham dadaasi. “If remembered by others, who are free from immediate fear, She grants the most auspicious understanding.”

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Devotees of Baba will endorse that Baba, as soon as they pray to Him, vouchsafes advice directly or, if they are far away, indirectly but clearly, on all problems facing them, not merely spiritual and mental, or physical but even social and domestic. Let us turn again to the Markandeya Purana. There the Mother is again praised as, Daridrya dukhabhaya harini. Just like a loving mother who helps distressed child from out of her secret hoard and saves it from shame and dishonour, Baba too as every one knows is saving many from their own folly and negligence and putting them on the path of honourable living. In the last line of the above sloka, Mother is described by the Purana as, ‘full of Mercy.’ The poet asks, Kaathwadanyaa sarvopakaarakaranaaya sadaardra chiththaa? Who else has the heart, ever melting, to bestow favours on all? Baba’s Heart, too, is ever overflowing with mercy, not only to those devoted to Him for years, but to those who have had little contact with Him, and even those who disparage Him. His Karuna is the right of all beings and He is never tired of telling the good news to all. He has said so often in His discourses at Puttaparthi and elsewhere, that no one need look upon Him with fear, or even extol Him, in order to earn His Grace, because no one fears his mother or is put to the necessity of praising her in order to win her to his side. The mother’s love is spontaneous and independent of any expectations.

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In Tamil Nadu, Easwara is known also as Thayumanavar, ‘He Who became also the mother’ because in one of His leelas, He saved a woman’s life and helped her safe delivery. The mother of the woman, who was to attend on her, was held up by a flooded river and the Lord, taking pity on the lonely, forlorn daughter, assumed the form of the mother and attended to the labour, Himself. Numerous are the cases where Baba has, dream, vision, or actual materialisation in some form, even as Thayumanavar, acted in the similar way and saved His children from calamity.

One must listen to the advice Baba gives His daughters and sons about the choice of life-mates; and, to the daughters, when they proceed to take up residence with their mother-in-law, or when they have new born babies to feed and foster. One common argument that Baba uses to persuade people to postpone their departure from Puttaparthi comes to mind just now. He usually asks the lady of the party, “Why don’t you remain a few days longer in your Mother’s home?” and that settles it! One will realise, then that He is the Mother of all mothers, the Mother who is the Mother in all beings. The tenderness, sympathy and love with which Baba attends to the needs of the cows, the rabbits, the pet dogs, peacocks or deer, the care He takes to avoid any harm to living things is a lesson to every one in the art of efficient mothering. He is verily maternal love, incarnate. “Yaa Devi Sarvabhootheshu Mathru Roopena Samsthithaa.”

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There is, therefore, a special significance in the Celebration of Navaratri, at Prasanthi Nilayam. Besides the Birthday of Baba, the only two festivals celebrated on a grand scale at Puttaparthi are, Sivaratri and Navaratri,for, Baba is both Siva and Shakti. During these Nine Days and Nights, He is Saraswati, presiding over Poetry, Dance, Music and Drama; Annapoorna, lavishing Annam and Vastram; Lakshmi, granting boons to all who come; and Durga, slaying falsity, pretence and wickedness, destroying the buffalo sloth and the buffalo stupidity that has overpowered us all. May Baba, the Mother, bless us and give us Faith, Strength and Joy.

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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On my first night at Rishikesh, the sacred spot on the Ganga, I gained a victory which had eluded me for over nine agonising years. I must admit that I had fallen a victim to snuff during my years at the Royal City of Mysore. The preparation of a dark variety of capsules which when pressed between thumb and index finger became flavourful snuff to be inhaled and enjoyed was an art known only to a few families there. It was an aristocratic aromatic acquisition. My friend Swami Siddeswarananda, the poet Puttapa and many others of that generation were devoted to that exciting device for mental arousal. For over three decades, that vice led me by the nose.

When I yielded to the impact of Baba, I decided, like Sindbad, to overthrow the old man who was riding on me. But he sat astride firmly. Baba often spoke sharply within my hearing on the habit. But luckily only in general terms. He spoke disparagingly about a few persons whom I knew, and condemned the weakness which prevented them from wriggling out of the dirty dusty snuff habit. I felt glad that he had not black-listed me, by name. When I joined the Rishikesh party I armed myself with a pound weight of the previous stuff bought at Madras, so that I could happily nose around the snuffless region.

That crucial night, Baba came over from the cottage in the Ashram complex which was allotted for His stay into the dormitory where I and five others were settling down for rest. I had prepared my bed and was enjoying the stretching of limbs, when Baba appeared, followed by Satchidananda and Sadananda. He came near my cot and turned the pillow over to expose the snuff-box cosily resting there. I shivered in remorse. I remembered the centuries old ritual, which Hindus observe when they reach pilgrim spots. They give up a habit that is dearly loved. Baba looked at me sternly. He said only one single Word, “Dirty”. I took the box and threw it far into the thick night. I clenched my teeth to lock my sobs in. I took an explosive vow, touching Baba’s Feet. ‘No more Swami! I am giving it up from this moment!”

Baba gave me a soft pat on the shoulder. I bent under the cot, dragged out my leather luggage box and took hold of the one pound tin of the disgusting stuff and was about to cast it into the bushy under-growth when two renunciants in ochre robes snatched it from my hands. They said (they were evidently, not a part of the Sivanandarsam) they were getting their supplies of the ‘Jnana Choornam” (the Powder that promotes the Intellect) from New Delhi, which was too far away.

Hearing the noise, Baba turned back and laughed. Satchidananda and Sadananda too laughed. I have not inhaled that rajasic poison since. It was indeed a pity that what I, a house-holder, threw to the winds was caught and treasured by those Sanyasins!

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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One afternoon, when I was standing, not alone but in active conversation with myself, on the verandah of the Press, a gentleman who was passing by stopped to ask me, “Are there any books on Swami available here?” I said, “No, we print only a monthly magazine”. He walked on, rather disappointed. The verandah could be seen from the first floor of the Mandir. Baba had noticed the dialogue. He sent for me and I hurried to the Presence. “What did that person ask you?” “He asked whether there are any books on Swami” I answered. “And what did you tell him?” was the next question. “I told him there were no books,” I replied. “That is not the right answer; you should have told him that this Swami cannot be understood through books,” He said and permitted me to leave. I came down the steps, wiser as a result of the glimpse He gave me of His inscrutability and sadder, at the prospect of no book being published on Swami, not even the one by me. Baba was looking down on me when I slowly wended my way back to the Press. When I was half-way through, I looked up through the wet film. I then knew that He had read my mind, for, He waved the reassuring palm to calm the surging sadness.

Consolation was conferred pretty soon. Baba was among devotees at Madras and Venkatagiri for a few days. At Puttaparthi we were hoping He would return by the weekend. But, His car negotiated a newly-laid macadam road and pulled up, quite surprisingly on Thursday itself. He sent for me. My heart went pit-a-pat. What was I in for? Had I done anything reprehensible? Talking ill of others or even thinking ill? My mother who realised that I was summoned into the Presence started praying that I may be pardoned for any blunder into which I had stumbled. I presented myself before Him. He smiled at my situation, eyed me from head to foot and said, “At Madras and Venkatagiri, people are asking, “Any literature on Swami?”, and you are sitting quiet here.”

Eleven years after that first meeting at Bangalore, Baba had decided that the time was ripe, the world had developed the appetite, and that the book can be served to the hungry. When the typescript was nearly ready, I struggled long to discover a title worthy of the Avatar. Baba had the letter S S S repeated on the parapet on the first floor of Prasanthi Nilayam. He referred to Himself as S S S often, in such statements as, “Unless I say S S S, how could it come through?” or “Sai Ki Sarvamoo yes yes yes” (For Sai, always, it is S S S). I decided therefore that the “Life” must have three words in its title each beginning with an S. It must also be redolent with Divine Vibrations and convey the glory of God whose Leela the book was presuming to narrate. I roamed over Vedic, Upanishadic and Epic pastures but could not hit on any better phrase than ‘Sathyam Jnanam Anantham’ expressive of God or Brahman. S S S is Sri Sathya Sai, Sathyam has to be in the title, but, what are the other two S’s to be? Santham, Sundaram, Sivam, Santhosham, Sukham? I posed my problem before many. At last one night while waiting for a train on the platform at far-off Davangere, I decided that “Sathyam Sivam Sundaram” sounded appropriate and authentic.

Baba blessed it the instant I consulted Him at Nandanavanam, Whitefield. He went into the room behind and brought out an album of photographs. He showed me three photographs of Himself when seated on the same chair at Nandanavanam taken within a few moments of each other by Matthews (now Saidas), saying, “You can have these three together, side by side on the cover. See! This is a little serious Sathyam. Here you find me with the bud of a smile, as Sivam, and this is a full smile, Sundaram. Sathyam, Sivam Sundaram is good”, He said with a pat on my shoulder.

“Sathyam Sivam Sudaram” has a distinctly Upanishadic touch, although the source is not readily traceable said K.Guru Dutt, when he heard the title. The words mean “Truth, Goodness and Beauty’ and since Baba is the most harmonious synthesis of all three, it has made readers and devotees gladly acquiesce in its propriety. Two years after the biography was published, on Maha Sivarathri Day, Baba blessed me and Brahmasri Doopaali Thirumalachari (whose rendering of the Book into Telugu was offered to Bhagawan that day). He placed round our shoulders, shawls with brocade borders. He told the huge assembly of devotees that day, “Some of you might have wondered why I liked the publication of this Book on My life! Well! I responded to the prayers of devotees and allowed them to write it. ‘Ramayathi ithi Rama’. (He who pleases is Rama). The joy of the devotee gives joy to the Lord, the joy of the Lord is the reward for the devotee.”

“The title given to the Book is full of meaning” said Baba. “It speaks of Me, as immanent in every one of you! Remember Sathyam is the basic Reality of you all. That is the reason why you resent being called a liar. The real ‘you’ is innocent of falsehood. The real ‘you’ will not accept the imputation. The real ‘You’ is Goodness, Joy, Happiness, Auspiciousness, Sivam. It is not Savam (a dead despicable thing). It is Subham, Nithyam, Anandam. How then can you tolerate being proclaimed as ‘Bad’ instead of being acclaimed as ‘Good?’ The real ‘You’ is Beauty, Sundaram. You resent being denigrated as ugly. You are the Atma and you resent when the deformities and defects of the physical vehicle are attributed to you.” So, it was Baba who directed me to the decision, which I dared claim as my own; Dr. S. Bhagawantham drew my attention a few years ago to a Telugu Book of translations of Swami Vivekananda’s Talks on Bhakti Yoga delivered in America. The translator had used the words “Sathyam Sivam and Sundaram’ in that order. I sought the original English talk and lo! Vivekananda was talking about the arrival of the Avatar of the “Lord of Truth” (Sathya Sai). The Swami had announced that ‘He’ would reveal the most wonderful things regarding Truth, Goodness and Beauty! So, the title, I felt, was transmitted to me by Guru Maharaj through Vivekananda.

A few months ago, another fact came to my notice which deflated the last vestige of ego and assured me beyond doubt that when I clinched the S S S combination it was He who revealed to me the title of the biography. When my eyes fell recently on the opening of Rama-CharithaManasa of Goswami Tulsi Das, (Gita Press, Gorakhpur). I saw the self-same three words at the very top of the facing page. Sathyam Shivam Sundaram! The ‘Nivedam’ made clear why those words were there. There was, it seems a controversy among the pandits of Banaras about the reverence due to a version of the holy Ramayana in the vernacular. They decided at last to place the manuscript in the inner shrine of the famous Siva-Temple before the Visweswara Lingam, with a prayer that He, the foremost devotee of the “Rama Principle”, in His infinite Wisdom, evaluate the work and write on it His verdict on its acceptability. The shrine door was locked and the pundits withdrew, hoping that it would be condemned as the spurious, sacrilegious work of a commoner. When morning broke and the bundle of palm leaves was brought out of the altar, they found to their astonishment, the words, ‘Sathyam Sivam Sundaram’ written with His hand (apne Haath se, as the Nivedam says) and a Lingam drawn underneath as the Divine Signature. What a miraculous coincidence this! That my search for three words, each starting with S, should have led me to the commendatory title with which Lord Siva had welcomed the immortal biography of another Avatar of God, baffle me with the magnitude of Divine Benediction.

The title of the book was accepted by Baba as a Name by which He too can be recognised. When He rose to address a vast gathering of people standing in pouring rain, under a canopy of umbrellas on the crest and sides of a hill named Sri Sailam, (by Rabindranath Tagore, when he stayed there) in Kerala after laying the foundation stone for a Sathya Sai Vidyapeeth on that eminence, Baba willed to reveal to the thousands yearning to glimpse the mystery. Therefore, a Sankrit verse
emerged as a four-forked lightning flash.

Sarva Naama Dharam, Saantham
Sarva Roopa Dharam, Sivam
Satchindaanada Roopam Adwaitham
Sathyam Sivam Sundaram

I assume all Names, the Peace;
I assume all forms, the Good;
I Being, Awareness, Bliss, the One;
Truth, Goodness, Beauty.

In the Book, I elaborated the ‘Three words’, delving into their implications with the help of occasional glimpses afforded by Baba. He is the Substratum, the Substance, the Separate and the Sum, the Sath, the Being the Sathyam. He is the Awareness, the Activity, the Consciousness, the Feeling, the Willing and the Doing – the Chith, the Sivam. He is the Light, the Splendour, the Harmony, the Bliss, the Melody—the Ananda, the Sundaram”.

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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“On the way Baba stopped the bus at a place, where a thin little iron rod carried a half distinct name plate “Vasishta Guha”.  He proceeded to descend the rather precipitous incline to the river bank, as if He had been there often before and as if He became aware of an engagement with the occupant of the Cave…The Vasishta bears a hallowed name; it has been sanctified by the austerities performed therein by many great recluses and monks in the past.  Swami Purushothamananda, a disciple of Swami Brahmananda of the Ramakrishna order, initiated into Sanyas by Mahapurushji, another direct disciple of Sri Ramakrishna, who had been in the caves since thirty years welcomed Baba as if he too was expecting Him.  He was more than seventy years old and he had spent the major part of his life in asceticism of a most rigorous kind and in the study of scriptures…Baba reminded him of the travails he endured when he first came into the cave, leopards and cobras and the three day trek to Rishikesh and the desperate struggle for salt and matchboxes.  He spoke of the succour that came to him through sheer intervention!….He also gave Purushothamananda a japamala of shining sphatika (crystal) beads, which manifested in His hand.

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“But more mysterious and significant was the vision He vouchsafed to Swami Purushothamananda that evening…After sending everyone outside the cave, Baba and the sage went into the inner room, Sri Subbaramaiah, President of the Divine Life Society, Venkatagiri describes what he was able to see from outside the cave thus: ‘Even now that picture is imprinted in my memory.  I was standing near the entrance of the cave.  I could see what was happening.  Baba placed his head on the lap of Swami Purushothamananda and laid Himself down.  Suddenly his entire body was bathed in divine brilliance.  His head and face appeared to me to have increased very much in size.  Rays of splendour emanated from His face.  I was overwhelmed with a strange inexplicable joy.  The time was about 10 p.m….When pressed later to divulge the Vision, Baba informed us that it was a vision of Jyothir Padmanabha!”

Still more wonderful was  the mercy of the Omnipresent all powerful Lord who did not miss a call from another devotee, a yogi, unknown to all others, who prayed for divine intervention to save his life.  So, while returning from the cave Baba ‘left His body for a short while’.  When pressed prayerfully for details, He asked them to contact one Subramanyam in the entourage to give details.

“He begged pardon for not informing Baba immediately about it, for, he had seen a corpse floating down the Ganges, but, being a thing of evil omen he refrained from mentioning it in the holy atmosphere.  Baba laughed and said it was not a corpse at all, though the Yogi who was floating down the flood was so dead to all external occurrences that he did not even cognise his plight.  He was being swept down by the torrent.  It seems he was seated on a rock by the side of the river, lost in Dhyana.  The current, meanwhile, was fast eating into the mud underneath the rock and, the rock tilted over, throwing him into the flood.  ‘It was like a dream for him at first’ said Baba.  Later when he found that he was being carried away by the Ganga, he bagan praying to the Lord.  Baba heard his call.  He slowly led the floating “corpse” to the bank, a few miles above Sivanandnagar, where there was a homestead available to give him warmth and comfort.”  The Sadhu was saved after a 30 mile float!  Observes Kasturiji who rightly draws a conclusion thus:  “It does not matter if he is not a ‘devotee’ “.

II Samasta Lokaha Sukhino Bhavantu II

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