A SYMBOL PERFECTED IN LOVE – [Part 2 of 2}

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examiners. Although he had given his approval to the thesis, he declined to

travel way up north to conduct the viva test of the candidate; rather he

suggested that the test could be arranged at Mysore itself should the

administration of Bihar University agree to it. The Vice Chancellor of my

university was pleased to sanction the holding of viva test at Mysore. And in

the summer of 1973, 1 proceeded to Mysore along with my wife and daughter. The

candidate and her husband also accompanied us so that there was good company.

After the viva test was completed, we made our maiden journey to Puttaparthi

and waited tensely for the Darshan of Baba. Swami went straight to the women's

section in the Darshan line and picked up my wife and daughter for a personal

interview. And Baba asked Rashmee, 'Where's your papa? Call him.' Words fail to

describe that momentous interview which was bound to have a lasting impact on me

and initiate me to the world of deathless devotion and ardour without end and

love unlimited. Baba took me to an ante room below the stair and looked at me

with his eyes brimming with love, 'Ah, what a suffering!' I remember, there was

so much of feeling and concern over my lot and that of Rashmee. I instantly

broke down and tears gushed forth from my eyes. 'Swami, you know everything.

Now I have come to you.' Baba smiled serenely and said, with great assurance in

his voice, 'don’t worry. Swami will set right everything. She is mentally weak,

but she will gradually improve. Give her the Vibuthi in a tumbler of water. She

will be all right.' We knelt at the lotus feet and holding the packets of

Vibuthi emerged out of the interview room to the open field lit up by the rosy

beams of the setting sun. I felt comforted and radiantly happy, and

said to myself, 'there must be some merit in your life that after so much of

suffering and parched landscapes of your life, Baba, like the benevolent God,

has sent you rain. His words never fail. Be assured that Rashmee will recover

from her ordeal and be whole subsequently. So, cheers!' I mused: hadn't my cup

of suffering been full? And I grieved and grieved and cried in total anguish

and ceaseless torment. I wondered if there was some super power in the cosmos

that could bring me relief like sunlight on a broken column. And I had waited

all these years of crucifixion and baptization in pain for the advent of a ray

from the supreme which could open up for me the new vistas and avenues of hope,

faith and love. I returned home with a new sense of faith, hope and love. It was

now heartening to notice a gradual and certain

change in the mental condition of Rashmee. She was calmer than before and took

special keenness in reading books about Sai Baba and performing pooja in the

shrine and usually getting ecstatic and thrilled whenever she noticed traces of

Vibuthi, kumkum and turmeric on the photographs. And what is more, she often

reported that she had seen Sai Baba in her dreams. She was quiet and fairly

composed and her usual tantrums of the previous months were now a thing of the

past. Everything seemed to be going on pretty well and I came to realize that I

had found a new anchor for my soul, something to live by. A new awareness had

dawned upon me that of faith. Tender bud of faith, hope and love seemed to

sprout and both my wife and myself lived in continual enchantment and feeling

of security. But Baba had ordained yet another test for us so as to help us

perfect our will in his will. During my outings I used to take Rashmee along

with me so that she could feel mentally refreshed and see

places. In one such outing, a mishap overtook us. I had an official conference

at Magadh University, Bodh Gaya. Rashmee was sleeping on the terrace of the

bungalow where we were staying. At midnight, she screamed as though she had a

nightmare and rushed towards the stair. She took a false step in the waning

moonlight and fell supine on the level ground below the open terrace. It was a

calamity; she was rushed to the medical college hospital where X-ray was taken;

a hairline fracture in the first lumbar was detected, requiring immediate

hospitalization and three weeks' complete rest on bed. The orthopedic surgeon,

who treated her, expressed his apprehension that her condition was alarming and

may ultimately lead to permanent paraplegia. However, we waited and prayed to

Sai Baba to redeem the situation and shower his grace on the unfortunate girl.

There was nothing else that we could do in the situation. I took a long leave

from work and nursed the patient amidst fluctuating moods of

hope and despair. After three weeks, the surgeon allowed the patient to go home

and use an orthopedic belt around her waist and take regular walks in the open

air. He told me that he was amazed at the improvement in the patient's

condition and wondered how it had come about. Very soon we were back to

Muzaffarpur where the doctor of doctors, our beloved Lord Sai Baba, took the

entire responsibility of the patient. By virtue of his omnipresence he arranged

for profuse supply of sacred ashes. All that we did was to place a piece of

paper in front of his photograph in the worship room and he did the rest.

Vibuthi gathered in thick cluster inexhaustibly and it was administered with a

glass of water at least twenty to thirty times in twenty-four hours. And the

result was astonishing. The improvement registered on the patient was

phenomenal and X-ray plates now showed complete healing and her movement and

gait became nearly normal. It was indeed a miracle of love, the like of which

I had never seen before. As a consequence of this, our faith in, and love for

Baba deepened and increased a hundredfold. My wife particularly joined the

local Sai Samithi and attended Bhajans and participated in other social

service. At her behest weekly Bhajans were held at our residence in which a

large number of devotees were present and the many miracles continued taking

place. Large footprints of Swami appeared on the stairs and the entrance routes

and exit doors. The fluorescent tubes were aglow on their own and the scent of

jasmines floated in the air. On one occasion, a mysterious visitor in the guise

of a demented woman came to the prayer hall and after the Bhajan was over, she

went out and faded in the thin air on the street going out of the campus.

Messages also appeared mysteriously in the

shrine and in one such message there was a direction penned in green ink to the

author to write a book on Swami. All these phenomena were beyond my

comprehension, plunging me in a state of enlightened mystification. And

finally, I came to the only conclusion that Baba was surely and truly divine

.... the very embodiment of love. What he had done for Rashmee was something,

which only the divine parent could do. Not that Rashmee was completely normal

mentally; she still was excessively emotional and flew into rage at the

slightest provocation and always wanted to have things her own way; but by and

large, life was peaceful and we enjoyed a session of serenity and pinned our

faith in Swami's words that she would recover in good time. His love was in

action and had fertilized the very ground of her consciousness. She read all

the books on Swami with great relish and regarded him as her savior. She always

kept on insisting that she be taken to Puttaparthi for the Darshan of her

savior. However, there was yet another reversion in her mental condition in the

year 1977, and this time in the hotel room at Bangalore. Rashmee was tired and

fatigued on account of the long journey and did not eat and sleep well. As soon

as we booked a room at Kapila hotel, she started fretting and fuming

unnecessarily and ran out of the room and rushed to the crowded streets. It was

difficult to restrain her. I was utterly hopeless and disconsolate and was at my

wits' end. It was nighttime. There was heavy traffic on the streets and I feared

if Rashmee could save herself from being crushed by a car or a truck plying on

the road. At that time, help came from an

unexpected quarter. At once a driver stopped his Tonga and accosted me. I told

him about Rashmee and her present mental condition. He offered to render all

possible help. He persuaded Rashmee to sit on the Tonga and took her to a

hospital. I followed him on a scooter. The doctor on emergency duty advised me

to take her to the Institute of Mental Health, which was located twenty

kilometers away. Again the Tonga driver offered to accompany us. He left his

Tonga at the hospital and accompanied us in a taxi to the famous Institute. I

thanked him very much. Rashmee was asked to wait in the ladies' waiting chamber

so that she could be admitted into the Institute on the morrow. The doctor

cautioned me to keep strict vigil on the patient so that she might not run out,

a possibility that often happened in the case of deranged minds. I made her

sleep on an empty bench and waited outside in the verandah. But sleep and

fatigue got the better of me and I lapsed into

temporary sleep. When I woke up and cast a look I was stunned to find that the

bench was empty and Rashmee was not there. I made a frantic search all round

the premises and even looked for her in the sprawling verandah and adjoining

lawns and even across the street and tree-lined avenues and gardens nearby. But

there was no trace of Rashmee anywhere. I reported the matter to the doctor on

duty, but he was of no help either. 'Didn't I warn you to keep a vigil on her?

Now what can I do? Please go out and report the matter to the police station.

There is one round the corner. Maybe, they will manage to get hold of her. You

should have been careful/ the doctor said in a sulky and accusing tone. My

heart beat faster and my mind seemed to reel. Tension filled my bloodstream.

Many dark and gloomy thoughts crowded my brain. 'Shall I ever see Rashmee

again? What chance was there to locate her in the desert wilderness of the

metropolis? Swami, I had brought her for your Darshan and

blessings ... and she has been lost and that too in a state of schizophrenic

attack. But your will will be done. Please have mercy on her and save her from

possible disaster! I thought and voiced my prayers to Swami. I returned to the

hotel where Rashmee's mother was anxiously awaiting our arrival. She looked

askance at me, but I could not utter a single word. Sensing that I was dazed

and in a state of shock, she asked with concern, 'Where is Rashmee? Where have

you left her?' I sobbed and sobbed unable to speak a word. But after a while I

composed myself and related to her how Rashmee disappeared from the waiting

chamber in the Institute when I temporarily lapsed into sleep. She consoled me

and said gravely, 'It is not your fault. It's all her karma and her fate. But

do not worry. For those who have no refuge, there is Swami to take care of

them. His love for Rashmee has always been demonstrated and I have no doubt in

my mind that he would protect her this time as well from

any calamity. Let us go to Whitefield right away! She said in a warm and

resonant voice which seemed to ring with firm faith and conviction. When the

day dawned and the golden rays of the sun wove patterns of red and vermilion we

were on way to Brindavan, Whitefield with one member less. All our thoughts were

now centered on Swami. We reached Brindavan and waited in the Darshan line. I

scribbled a note hurriedly praying Swami to intervene, and handed over the note

to Swami when he came near me. He cast a glance, which seemed to caress me as

though waves and waves of sympathy rolled over to me at least so it seemed to

me. When Swami returned to his bungalow and the Bhajans started we sat all

through the session, thinking only about Rashmee and her sad plight. Time

passed. We did not even care to have the morning tea or breakfast and even at

lunch we did not feel like taking any food. It was an Ash Wednesday for us. How

could we think of taking any nourishment when

Rashmee was not with us and she might be hungry, desolate and without

protection? She was my daughter lost, the favorite child so near and dear to me

and the prospects of her recovery seemed very dim indeed! We could not even

summon the courage to get back to the hotel and brood over the consequences of

what had happened. Doubts assailed my mind once again. Swami had blessed her

and had promised to set right everything. But in spite of improvement in her

mental condition for some time, there had been a reversion landing her in a

difficult situation when her safety and well-being has been threatened. So, we

remained at Brindavan for the whole day and attended the evening Darshan and

prayer. But nothing pleased us and we desperately prayed to Swami to do

something and soon. When the shadows of the evening lengthened and dusk spread

its inky mantle on the streets, buildings and the facade of the horizons, we

reluctantly boarded a city bus and alighted near the Railway Station.

Once again, gloomy thoughts gripped our mind and tears trickled down our face.

As we moved slowly towards the crowded street near the Kapila hotel, we saw a

swarm of people crossing the road. And we recognized a form resembling Rashmee

in the melee of the unfamiliar crowd, as she came closer, there was no doubt.

It was she-Rashmee, My beloved daughter. Was she the long lost daughter of King

Pericles in Shakespeare's Winter's Tale? Feeling surged in our hearts and tears

of joy welled up in our eyes. I fondly embraced Rashmee. She looked tired and

was coughing. 'Where had you been last night and the whole day today?' I asked

her in a numb voice. 'I was with Sai Baba,' she said enigmatically. 'O.K. you

must be feeling hungry. Let us go to the cafe across the road. We shall have

some coffee and talk,' I told her. Seated in a secluded cabin of the cafe, I

ordered some snacks and coffee and felt a deep sense of repose now that the

precious and lost member of the family was with us. She looked fairly quiet and

composed as though the delirium and the hysteria of the previous night had

subsided. 'Now tell me, dear, what happened when you slipped out of that

waiting hall?'

Roman">Rashmee said something that was truly amazing. She said: 'I ran out of

the hall because I had the impression that it was a hospital for mad people.

And I was very angry with you because I suspected that you would leave me here

alone amidst mad women. I was terrified and ran out. I walked out of the

hospital and came on the desolate street. There was no traffic and no one was

walking on the street. I found a park adjacent to the road and entered it. I

found a bench and slept on it. Early in the morning at daybreak the piercing

rays of the sun falling on my eyes aroused me. I remembered that I had none to

look after me; both my mother and father had left me alone and conspired to put

me in a hospital for mad women. So I sobbed spasmodically. At that time a fakir,

wearing a loose gown and a cloth tied to his head, came near me. He asked me

tenderly, 'Why are you crying, baby?'

justify">'My parents have left me. I have to go to Whitefield to see Sai Baba.

Can you tell me how to go there? Can I get a bus to Whitefield?' I asked him.

He thought for a while and said, 'You have not taken any food. You must be

feeling hungry. Come with me. I will take you to an eating-place and put you on

a bus back to the place where your parents are staying. They have not left you;

rather they are worried about you.' He bought some ground­nuts for me and took

me to the bus stand. I asked, 'Tell me, father, who are you? 'Have you been to

Shirdi? No? Come some time. I am always there/ he

whispered. 'But I have to go to see Sai Baba at Whitefield. Which bus will be

going there’? I enquired. 'Think that I am Sai Baba. First go to the place

where your parents are. They are greatly concerned about you. Then you can go

to Whitefield/ he advised me. Rashmee continued, 'I reached the Railway Station

and for the whole day I have been wandering on the street. Papa, I must tell you

the fakir looked very much like that saint whose picture is in our worship room

at Muzaffarpur 'You mean Sai

Baba of Shirdi? 'Yes,' she nodded. It was a night of rejoicing. Next morning I

took the bus to Brindavan, Whitefield and waited for Swami to come. He came out

and moved gracefully. The whole sky was lit up with the purple and pink aura and

the sky seemed to become orange. He came straight to me and paused for a while,

then he smiled faintly and whispered, 'so you have got her. Are you happy now?'

He sailed ahead, leaving me in a state of trance. It was a message of joy,

perennial joy. Here was the loving and caring God ever ready to help us in the

hours of our need, all knowing and omnipresent.

TEXT-ALIGN: justify">His love for Rashmee has again and again been manifested,

the positive poles of the electric current meeting the negative one. As years

have passed, Rashmee has shown steady progress towards normalcy. But for that

temporary reversion at Bangalore, there have been no more disturbances in her

mental poise. It may be said that Rashmee's life is full of Sai love and it has

taken her out of critical situations. Another instance of Sai love can be

related when in 1990 Rashmee had some recurrence of pain in the spine and she

was really miserable. Sitting in the Darshan line at Prashanthi Nilayam, she

was awaiting the arrival of Swami. It started raining very heavily. Many

devotees thought that it was an ordeal by water. In another sense, it was a

downpour of divine love, at least so it proved to be for Rashmee. She was

praying to Swami: 'Swami, how can I bear this pain in my back? ... I do. not

want to live in this condition ... either cure me of this or take me to yourself

for eternal rest...' There was commotion in the line as Swami came to the

devotees on a car. Many village maids had thronged the place and as Swami

approached, they rushed towards him. Rashmee, who was in the second line, was

flung down by the terrible rush of rustic women and fell on the feet of Swami.

Swami assisted her to get up by giving her a prop and in the process placed his

palm on the affected spot in the first lumbar and spoke to her softly, 'Do not

harbour such gloomy thoughts. Life and death are not in your hands. Be happy

and full of Ananda always ... Swami is always with you. Remember...' Rashmee

felt from that moment onwards that all her pain had vanished and she had

regained her physical and mental well being. It has been a miracle of love.

>From these examples, it becomes apparent that the love of Sai Baba is the

greatest boon on earth that one can hope to acquire. It is a

transcendental sunbeam that illumines the whole soul of man. Thus, Sai Baba,

more than anything else, is a symbol perfected in love. This love operates

continuously and on all levels. It was in the year 1985 that I relinquished my

position as University Professor and Chairman, Department of English,

University of Bihar after the completion of my term of service and joined the

University of North Bengal on a similar assignment. But again, Swami had some

definite plan for my future and I was one of the few fortunate ones who were

asked to serve at the lotus feet. On the fifteenth of July, 1985, 1 joined the

most coveted and prestigious position as Professor and Chairman, Department of

English, Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning, a deemed university of

which Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba was the Chancellor and

Professor V.K. Gokak, the founder Vice Chancellor. I found the maximum level of

satisfaction working at an elite institution where work was akin to prayer and

the challenges were exciting. I have had the privilege of working at many

universities at home and abroad, but never before did I witness such devotion

and discipline, such an atmosphere of peace and tranquility and such a silken

bond of love and affection permeating the campus life. Swami was there to

oversee the whole programme and loved to meet the teachers and students with a

good deal of frequency, addressing them on spiritual themes and transmitting

the electric waves of pure love. The teachers sat on the front verandah in

front of the Mandir in the mornings and evenings and Swami was easily

accessible to everyone and he spoke to them whenever he liked to do so. There

was always a sense of nearness and intimacy and Swami's invaluable counsel was

available for the asking. All seemed to bathe in the effulgence and

radiance of divine love. Life was all this and heaven too, and I felt that such

singular good fortune of being so near to the Lord of the Universe must have

meant great merit in one's so many earlier incarnations. At least I felt so and

realized that such sweetness flowed to me that I was blessed and everything

about me was blessed. It was a feeling of oneness and belonging to the whole

creation, nature, living objects, the earth and the sky and the entire cosmos.

Time passed although I lived in the sempiternal regions of the timeless. And

then the time came when one finds oneself on the threshold of illumination more

illumination, and has the epiphany of a rare kind standing at the frontier of

life and death. On the eleventh of January 1987 1 was face to face with death

and oblivion. I suffered a stroke leading to

left-sided monoplegia. I had left my quarters to proceed to the annual sports

meet of the university colleges at the Hill View Stadium. It was a very

important function and Baba was to inaugurate the function. It was dark in the

morning and after a night of disturbed sleep I was moving on the busy street,

tense and uneasy. Some kind of fever sang in the mental wires and my head was

heavy. When I passed by the gate of the College of Arts and Sciences, I

remembered that I had to pick up some important papers from my office. So, I

turned around and came to my office in the building. My head seemed to reel for

a moment and I somehow steadied myself and went to the toilet to wash my face

and sprinkle some water on my head. It was then that I felt a severe numbness

in my left limb and fell on the floor. I lay unconscious in that condition for

a while; then the instinct for survival made me exercise my will. The first

thought that came to my be­numbed mind was to send earnest and eager

prayers to Swami. 'Swami, you are the absolute sole Lord of Life and Death. I

have no lust for prolonging my life except to dedicate it to your service. I

have still many promises to keep; so I do not want to sleep forever, not at any

rate in the roomless toilet. I do not fear death and oblivion but I have some

promises to keep and to make myself worthy of your love. You are omnipresent.

Will you pull me out of this desperate situation? At this stage, I decided to

exercise my will and using my right limbs I crawled slowly up to the lavatory

door and unfastened the latch. Now I was on the verandah and could see the

entrance gate of the college, the green shrubbery, the red and pink flowers and

the vast blue expanse of the sky. The effort was too much for my energy and me

was sapped. I reclined on the floor and fainted. My head was spinning like a

top, and my nerves were on edge. I do not remember how long did that swoon

last, but I was aroused from my slumber by a voice: 'Sir, what's

happened? You look so terribly unwell. Can I help you? 'Do please. It seems

I've suffered a stroke. Do please run to the Hill View Stadium and inform my

colleagues and my family. But first bring a rickshaw and take me to my

quarters. I want to rest/ I muttered in a feeble voice. The young man disclosed

his identity saying that he was an assistant in the college and when he was

passing by the college gate, he heard a voice directing him to go to the

college. 'Don't worry, I'll soon be back with a rickshaw,' he said. He was very

helpful and took me to my quarters, When he left the room, I lapsed into sleep

and lost all sense of time and space. When I opened my eyes

next I was lying in a cabin in the Sathya Sai hospital under the shadow of

oxygen mask and saline water was being injected through my veins. I saw my wife

and daughter, both standing near my bed and anxiously looking at me. When I

opened my eyes, the doctors came towards me and asked 'How do you feel now?

There is nothing to worry; your B.P. has come down. You will feel much better

tomorrow. Now do try to sleep,' the superintendent of the hospital said: I have

a faint recollection of the goings on in the hospital on the first two days.

When I was sufficiently stable and my mind was beginning to be alert, I asked

my wife all about it. I was told that my condition had gone on deteriorating in

the afternoon and the blood pressure was still rising. The attending physicians

were all at sea and hardly knew what to do. They

suggested that my wife and daughter should rush to the Mandir and speak to Swami

when he came near them in the Darshan line. Swami came in the evening to the

sick room. He looked intently into my eyes for a long time and withdrew

quietly. My wife entreated him to have mercy and save her 'sohag' (marital

state). Swami raised his hand as a gesture of benediction but he did not speak

a word. However, the visit of Swami proved to be salutary. By night, the blood

pressure registered a fall and eventually became normal. The film of haziness

before my eyes was dispersed and I was able to see clearly. I could speak

fairly audibly. I beckoned my wife to come near me and told her, 'You look so

anxious and disconsolate. But there is no need to worry. Swami will take care

of me, believe me.' 'Yes, we have been sending our anxious prayers to him day

and night/ she whispered. 'I know ... I know,' I mumbled. On the fourth day

after the attack, I was feeling reasonably well, although left limbs were

immobile and I lay limp on the bed, unable to sit up or stand. A terrible

paralysis had overtaken my nerves and there was nothing I could do about it. In

the morning of the fifth day a visitor came to my cabin and introduced himself

as a male nurse from Canada. He told me that he was of Indian origin and was

settled in Canada and that Swami has asked him to attend on you and help you in

your daily chores. He sponged my body with a towel, shaved me and helped me

change my clothes and took me out on a wheel-chair to the terrace outside where

I found plenty of sunshine, fresh air and a sense of openness and happiness.

After many a day I had

seen the blue expanse of the sky, the teeming vegetation and heard the sweet and

soothing melody of the birds. I cast a lingering glance at the domes of the

temple and the huge regal building of the university office located at the top

of the hill. In short I felt a sense of oneness with the world of nature and

experienced a new upsurge of life within me. Mr. Gopal, the compassionate male

nurse from Canada, proved to be a very good companion. He was warm and

affectionate and what is more, he was a very good devotee of Swami. He told me

'You are very lucky, brother Sinha. Swami is deeply interested in your welfare

and quick recovery. He has given the doctors a piece of his mind and is not

very happy with their initial response and reaction to your critical state. But

he has now entrusted me with the job of seeing you and

keeping company. He has asked the Vice Chancellor and the colleagues and

students of your Department to be with you in the nights so as to provide

relief to Mrs. Sinha. I want you to do me a favour. When Swami comes to see you

next time, do have a word put through on my behalf. This is my only wish to come

back to India and serve at the hospital. If Swami is pleased with my service to

you, he may call me here. So, do please commend my case. I shall ever be

grateful.' Since I had already developed a soft corner for him in tiny heart, I

assured him that I would do all I could at the right time. During my illness,

all my friends and acquaintances came to see me at the

hospital to enquire about my welfare. I was overwhelmed by their fine gesture of

affection and their interest in my well-being. Sambhavna, my granddaughter who

was studying at the Sathya Sai Primary School, could not come as the Lady

Principal thought that the child would be greatly upset to see me in my present

condition. Sambhavna was a favorite child of Swami. She had a congenital defect

in her heart that required open-heart surgery for plugging a hole in the heart.

I had prayed to Swami to cure her and he regularly gave her Vibuthi and once

when she was down with fever, he had taken her to the hospital himself on his

car. The principal of the school used to tell me that the child was really

fortunate that she had earned the grace of Swami. The Vice Chancellor, Dr.

Saraf, was a regular visitor to the hospital to see me and always expressed his

confidence that Swami would see to it that I would soon be all right with the

blessings of Baba. In fact, everyone in the campus

was watching my condition and was feeling gratified that Bhagawan Baba, who was

an ocean of infinite mercy and compassion, would not forsake me. And, assuming

the serious­ness of my stroke with blood pressure touching 220/110 mark, worse

could have happened, heart failure or cerebral hemorrhage, but Swami had sent

timely help and had taken control of the whole situation. Now my condition

was very much stable and I was more alert and hopeful than ever, and talked

intimately with my family members, doctors and visiting friends and students.

The only limiting factor was that there was yet no return of power to my

paralyzed left hand and leg. But Mr. Gopal took me out on the wheel chair to

the terrace and I spent longer periods sipping tea, reading a book or just

talking to Mr. Gopal about life in Canada. He

advised me to go in for physiotherapy at a good centre so that the return of

power to the affected parts may be hastened. There was no facility for

physiotherapy at the Sathya Sai hospital during the eighties, and it did not

seem practicable to go over to Bangalore for that exercise. My son, a Reader in

Economics at Magadh University, came to see me, but he could not get a longer

leave from his university to be able to accompany me to Bangalore. So, it was

decided that I should go back home in Bihar and take intensive course in

physiotherapy. But before I left, Swami once again sent word that he would be

visiting the hospital to bless me. One morning, word went round that Swami's

car had arrived and that Swami would soon come up to my cabin. The

Superintendent and other doctors waited in my room. Presently, the orange-robed

figure of Swami appeared in the room. He came near my bed and cast a caressing

and loving glance at me for a few minutes. His eyes met with mine and it seemed

to

me that beams of love and only love fell on me and I was on the receiving end.

There was no immediate effect except the dawning of a feeling of well being as

though my burden of karma had been lifted by a divine miracle, the cleansing

ray of celestial love. Swami spoke in a firm voice: 'Professor Sinha, I am very

happy with you ... very very happy! You need not worry. You'll be all right and

in good time. You have still to do a lot of my work...' I was on the crest of

waves of joy at that moment and felt not only happy and sublime, but also very

proud of myself. And the words of my German professor in the United States

echoed in my mind: 'You are so noble and tender and proud ... You are a poet

and God loves the poets already!' And now I was experiencing that supreme

continence of affirmation coming from the mouth

of God himself. I was bathed entirely in the white radiance of divine love. And

for a moment it seemed to be that one's sufferings and afflictions, even

physical undoing and crucifixion are all for the best because they take one

several steps closer to God, even force the divine to bring about the wished

for transfiguration and consummation and union by love. As suffering alone had

been the ground of my beseeching all my life, I was not surprised that God had

heard the voice of my calling and had rushed to my rescue and preservation. I

remained in a state of dizzy rapture for many days and the tender, loving words

of Swami continued to ring in my mind: 'I am very happy with you ... very very

happy. You have still to do lots of my work...' On the fixed date of

departure, Swami sent word to Mr. Kutumba Rao to arrange a car

to take me and my family to Dharmawaram Railway Station and he also expressed

his desire to see me at the time of parting just after the morning Darshan in

the field in front of the Mandir. It was Mr. Gopal who took me on the

wheel‑chair to the centre of the field. Most of the devotees had departed

and the field was comparatively less crowded. Swami walked up to me. He looked

at me lovingly and with perfect serenity and love. He waved his right hand and

clusters of thin white Vibuthi came into his hand. He rubbed the z0huthi gently

on my left arm and leg and gave me some to eat. I was unable to control my

emotions and looked on tenderly. Words seemed to fail me. I knew that the hour

of separation had drawn near. Swami had called me to serve at the university

for three years, but even before the termination of that term, sickness had

forced me to leave. Now I shall be thousands of miles away from him and would

suffer the agony of separation from my

divine master. What could I tell him now? Then words rushed to my mouth and I

said faintly, 'Swami, what about Sambhavna? Should I leave Sambhavna here at

the school? Should I take her back with me?' 'Better take her with you since

you will not be here/ Swami said. Then, showing a pen, he asked me, 'Is it

yours? 'Yes, Swami,' I assented. But it was hard for me to understand how he

got my pen. Maybe while he was applying Vibuthi on my forehead and the left

hand, my pen might have fallen down and he had picked that up. But it strikes

me as a symbolic act. He had said I still had to do lots of his work and I

surmised that continuing with my job at the university was not possible in my

present state of health and there was hardly anything else, much less community

work or social service ... could come under my purview.

But my mind was as keen as ever and my intellectual prowess, sensitivity, vision

and insight remained as sharp as before even sharper with the acquisition of

mellowed perceptions and transfiguring force of divine love. I could perhaps

devote the remaining years of my life in my creative and critical writings and

maybe, I could write my memoirs about Swami, the assignment which he had

ordained for me way back in 1973 when in a mysterious message appearing in the

worship‑room he had directed me to write a book on him. Now that he has

made me a humble instrument to write not one but three books about him. I think

it is the culmination of my modest work, and the trilogy, for whatever it is

worth, will be an offering at his lotus feet if not a coronet to adorn the head

of the glorious and beautiful Lord. Here ends my

personal testament, which may be of some interest to the readers. At least, it

gives me immense satisfaction to record my intimate personal experience of Sai

love. At the same time, divine love, which has no beginning, middle or an end,

flows for ever and impregnates the parched soil of our hearts with a new

efflorescence of tender shoots of faith, hope and love. Here is the poem in its

supreme beauty and glory: Walk the earth with your heads held high. Your

spirits soaring Your hearts open to love And believe in yourself and God

within you Then all will go well. The earth is a manifestation of My Being

Made out of my life!

Wherever you look, I am there Wherever you walk, I am there. Whomsoever you

contact, I am that person I am in each, in all My Splendor. See me everywhere.

Talk to me and Love me, Who am in each. Courtesy: http://www.indiangyan.com/

With Sai love from Sai brothers –‘’

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