Part 3 - Practice makes one perfect and attracts God's grace - Ashwath Narayan's experience with Sathya Sai

Familiarity should breed regularity

Along with daily bhajans, Ashwath was now required to regularly sing songs and Alaap bhajans (Bhajans that have a slow, solo vocal as an introduction). There were two Alaap bhajans in particular that Swami would command Ashwath to sing on several occasions, out of the blue. One was a bhajan that Swami referred to as Shlokam. It was a Rama bhajan that had an alaap, “Sri Raghavam Dasharatha Atmajam”. The other was a Sarva-Dharma bhajan which begins with the Alaap:

Allah Hu Akbar, Allahu Akbar
Awwal Allah Noor Upaya Qudrat Keh Sub Banday
Aik Noor Keh Sub Jag Upajiya Kaun Bhale Ko Mandhe

Looking back, Ashwath feels that there is a special reason why Swami made him sing that Alaap repeatedly. The meaning of that Alaap is so beautiful. If one is blessed with the awareness, conviction and experience of that meaning, one would have discovered the panacea for all problems. The meaning goes as follows:

God is Great. God created light of which all the beings were born,
And from this ONE light, the universe; so who is good and who is bad?

Familiarity often breeds neglect if not contempt. It requires extensive Sadhana and intensive efforts to value something even when it is available in abundance. This holds good for everything - food, water, health, relationships and even Swami’s proximity and grace. There was an episode which made Ashwath resolve that he would never take Swami for granted.

Probably one of the greatest honors for Ashwath was getting the opportunity to give music to and sing a song whose lyrics were written by Swami Himself to explain the Sri Sathya Sai Avatar.

{If you have arrived to this part directly, it is recommended that you read the first two parts before this finale. It will make for more enjoyable and suspenseful reading.

Part 1 - Practice makes one perfect and attracts God's grace - Ashwath Narayan's experience with Sathya Sai

Part 2 - Practice makes one perfect and attracts God's grace - Ashwath Narayan's experience with Sathya Sai }

Swami seemed unhappy with the singers who accompanied him to Chennai for the Athi Rudra Maha Yagnam in January 2007, Ashwath included. That unhappiness seemed to continue even after His return to Puttaparthi. One of those days, Swami entered the bhajan hall and spoke to the singers of the bhajan group. Apparently some devotee had passed comments on the quality of singing and Swami was not feeling good about it. He told it to the boys. Ashwath saw how much Swami cared about their reputations. Swami was emphasizing both - being good and appearing good. They prayed,

“Swami, if your grace is there, we will not get into such situations.”

“There is Grace. There is Grace in abundance. Out of all the people seated here, so few are in the bhajan hall. Out of them, only few of you are selected. You do not understand the value of grace... You are all fit to only eat grass...”

Slow Miracles are also miracles - an experience with Sathya Sai

This is a story that has spanned nearly two decades... and it comes with a powerful message. The story seemed to culminate on the 22nd of November, 2010, the last Convocation of the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning 
in the physical presence of Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba. 

When I think of a miracle, the words that come to mind are along these lines - unimaginable, stunning, fast, mind-blowing, unbelievable, happy, unnatural, mysterious, extraordinary. I am sure that the list is much larger but this sampling of words is sufficient for my present context.  Among these words, in my opinion, a key one is ‘fast’. A miracle has to happen suddenly and fast. Then only will it be ‘unbelievable’, ‘extraordinary’, ‘mysterious’ and ‘unimaginable’. If it does not happen fast, then I don’t consider it a miracle. Speed is of essence here.

A magician puts a seed into a pot and covers the pot with a cloth. He pulls away the cloth mumbling some abracadabra and presto! There is a flowering plant. I applaud hard for him. Yet, when the same thing happens over the span of a few months in the pot in my balcony, I hardly notice. Sometimes, I don’t even pause to admire the beauty of the multi-petalled jasmine or enjoy its rich fragrance. It is all my obsession with speed. I give so much importance to speed that I applaud its presence in a magic show though I know what is happening is false but I refuse to acknowledge a true miracle of God in my balcony!

God can do things in a trice but He is not obsessed with speed! Sometimes He does things real fast; the other times he does it slow. Do I miss out on miracles in my life just because they happen slowly? I am convinced that is the case because, looking back at my life with Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, I am slowly discovering several slow miracles that have happened. And I thought that sharing one such miracle would be my way of expressing gratitude to my Swami.

When shooting became difficult...

When I joined the Sri Sathya Sai Higher Secondary School in 1998, like many other students, my sole aim was to gain the physical proximity and blessings of Swami. One of the ways in which I intended to achieve my goal was through photography. I had been blessed with a good SLR camera thanks to my dad and I intended to put it to good use in taking me closer to my Guru and my God. However, there were multiple obstacles to this plan of mine.

1. I was not the only one with a camera or the idea of using it as a means to get closer to Swami. Several senior students and a few teachers too were regular photographers in the Sai Kulwant hall. I was possibly the most junior among all photographers. I felt that I would have to really work my way up the ladder to catch Swami’s eye.
2. It was necessary to get a permission slip from the warden in order to carry a camera to the Mandir. The Seva Dal volunteers at the gate would ask for this slip before allowing one to carry the camera inside. The warden would regulate the number of people carrying a camera lest they become a trigger-happy nuisance in the sacred temple. So, I could possibly take the camera once or twice a week for darshan. The competition for permission slips became more intense on festival days when there were greater chances of Swami spending time outside.
3. The school warden had an interesting (and, in my opinion, sadistic) strategy to combat what he considered as indiscipline and reward what he felt was discipline. He would find out what was closest to the heart to different students and deny them that as punishment. For instance, when I was protested what I thought was a wrong decision on the cricket field (where the warden was the umpire), the warden didn’t issue the camera permission slip to me for more than two months! He knew that taking the camera was so important for me and strategically punished me in that manner. This was just one example. Many lesser ‘crimes’ of mine were also punished in the same manner. Therefore, I lived in constant fear of the warden coming in the way of my plan to become a regular photographer in the Mandir.