Many changes in P.N.

[Guest guest]

"Many years ago I had a dream where Swami led me and a friend out of

a building and down to a wide river where there were stepping stones

to take us from one side of the river to the other. We followed Swami

onto the stepping stones and he began to lead us across the river.

Half way across Swami disappeared and we were standing in the middle

of the river wondering where he had gone. I remember still, looking

all around me and saying 'Where is Swami? where is he?" I remember

bending down and picking up stones from the bottom of the shallow

river and saying to myself, 'is this Swami? Is this Swami?'

 

I believe I have reached that place in the river where Swami

disappears and now it is up to me to find Swami within myself as he

tells me that is where he resides.

 

We arrived at Puttaparthi on 29th Sept. for a 3-week visit. We

noticed how much the village had grown even in one year. In fact it

is no longer a village but a town with new buildings going up

everywhere.

 

Having visited Swami for over 15 years we felt lost in the new

environment and strangely out of place. Darshans were different too.

Over the first week the mandir was pretty full with local groups,

some of which were over two thousand in number. The local groups were

seated first, leaving limited space for the token-line people. We

were informed that the future would see an increase in local groups

and those visiting from other states. We were seated towards the back

and a long way from where Swami rides in his golf cart. The

atmosphere in the mandir had also changed with the intensity of

vibrations of old no longer there. However there was a peaceful

feeling and when Swami was present, additional and sometimes stronger

vibrations could be felt from his presence.

 

There were no set timings for darshan or bhajans. The darshans would

begin with the students chanting the Vedas. Swami would ride through

the mandir in his golf buggy. Some days the golf buggy took him

across the front of the ladies and over to the men's side and some

days the buggy took the short route through the women's side to the

verandah. Sometimes Swami would take a few letters but mostly not.

There were few interviews given, then mostly to staff or VIPs. Many

days there were children's skits often depicting stories from the

Indian Holy Scriptures. The students sang the Vedas, as mentioned

above, both morning and evening with Swami giving them his full

attention. Often Swami would sit in his golf buggy for the chanting

instead of using his chair. No two days were alike and no one could

foretell what would happen from darshan to darshan.

 

On the few days when the local groups were not there, one could sit

closer to the front and see Swami as he passed in the buggy. He often

did not look at the crowd but stared ahead at the middle distance.

There were times when we were dying to see his face but Swami often

used his handkerchief to wipe his face when passing by. Thus, even

close darshan did not give us the personal contact that we all

graved. There were still 4 lines allotted to the public for afternoon

bhajans. However, most of the time Swami came for only a few bhajans

or sometimes just for the arathi, sometimes not at all.

 

Many of the ladies I had known through my long stays were no longer

there. Some of the most ardent devotees who had been there for over

15 years had left to live in Whitefield; others had left for visits

home. There were very few overseas devotees to be seen in the token

lines however; a few would come in later and sit way in the back.

 

The new houses are almost completed. They both look identical. I was

surprised to learn they have a basement level and a ground level. The

structures are enormous and to what use they will be put to, no one

yet knows. There is now a six-foot wall around both houses with two

pairs of ten-foot wrought iron gates to close them off from the

public.

 

My thoughts about the visit are that this is an end of an era. I

believe in future we will have to seek Swami in our hearts rather

than in his ashram.

 

My dearest memory of this visit was finding one afternoon a very

unusual fleshly plucked flower placed on top of the sole of one of

my shoes, that lay hidden near the mandir entrance. The flower is not

known in Puttaparthi. It was a very sweet moment in what had been

quite a hard trip.

 

Hastasana