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.
   

What is the greatest gift in life? Life experiences of Kishore Madhamshettiwar_Part 1

An ‘accident’al realization

Kishore Madhamshettiwar rose from his bed early in the morning and began to get ready for the 350 km drive from Moga to Delhi. It was early in March 1986 and this would be a defining trip in the 27-year old’s life. He had received a marriage proposal and this would probably be one of his first visits to his to-be bride’s home. Two of his juniors from work (Kishore was heading the Condensed Milk Division of Nestle in Moga) also wanted to go to Delhi and they would be joining him for the journey which would be made in Kishore’s faithful Fiat car.

(Those were the days when car-choice in India was restricted to either the Fiat or the Ambassador. The former was the “small car” and the latter was the “big car”!)

The Fiat or Premier Padmini on the left was the small car while the Ambassador on the right was the big car in those times. 

Before setting out on the journey, Kishore entered the building adjacent to his house. This building had the honour of acting as the residence to Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba when He visited Moga in 1973 and had been converted into a shrine since then. (Sai Blossom has created a memorable DVD of this 1973 trip under the title - Love Flows North. ) Kishore wanted to pay his respects before the journey.  It was not as if Kishore was a devotee or follower of Baba. However, his family Guru, Sri Malhari Baba of Chandrapur (Maharashtra) had told him,

“Sathya Sai is the Paripoorna Avatar (the Absolute Descent). It is wrong to compare Him to Rama or Krishna because such a Descent has never happened nor will it happen... When the time comes, you will meet Him...”

It was out of implicit obedience to his Guru that Kishore paid his respects to Baba before embarking on the journey.

The only picture of Malhari Baba which I could procure. This is from the letterhead of a letter written to Kishore
by Malhari Baba. More about the contents of that letter will come later...
(Malhari Baba left his body on the 21st of March, 2011)

The drive was smooth and comfortable. Within a couple of hours, the Fiat car crossed Ludhiana, the first milestone on the road towards the national capital. That was when the speeding car swerved and toppled into an accident. Like some fighter jet, the car did a complete canopy roll but miraculously ended up upright on the road. Kishore turned to look at his juniors. They seemed fine except for the look of horror on their faces. They were staring straight at him, at his profusely bleeding head!

In the melee that had ensued during the canopy roll, Kishore’s head had apparently been struck by something hard which had caused it to open up and gush forth blood. He was rushed to the nearest hospital. The doctor glanced at him and exclaimed,

“Is this a human being or a living ghost? He is in terrible shape...”

Kishore did not understand what the doctor was talking about. He was feeling no pain. However, it was evident that he had suffered severe loss of blood. The hospital did not have the necessary facilities for complex surgeries. Without anesthesia, the doctor patched in fifteen stitches to stop the bleeding.(If a stitch in time saves nine, the doctor surely saved Kishore at least 15x9 = 135 stitches!) The doctor also pumped his body with 2-3 bottles of blood.

“You should rush to AIIMS (Delhi) or CMC (Ludhiana) for further treatment. What I have done is only a stop-gap one”, he told Kishore when he sat up on the hospital bed.

Kishore decided to disobey the doctor because he was not feeling “even a pin prick of pain”! What could be so serious but so painless? He decided to head to Delhi - not for the hospital but for the work he had set out upon. It was the pleas of his juniors that convinced him to turn back home. By that afternoon the Fiat found itself parked in Moga and Kishore entered his house. His sister’s siesta was broken and she came out of the room, rubbing her eyes.

“Brother, I had a very strange and vivid dream... Oh my God! What happened?”

“It is nothing much. There was a little accident and I got a small head injury”, Kishore replied, not wanting to create tension at home over something that was not even hurting him. “But tell me, what was the dream you were speaking about?”

Now the sister smiled. She said,

“You say it is a small injury. Listen to my dream... It’s amazingly connected.”

Then she began narrating the dream

A huge mountain had collapsed on Kishore and he had got buried under the huge debris. Out of nowhere, Sathya Sai Baba had arrived. Instantly, He dug through the debris and excavated Kishore who seemed absolutely unhurt. Baba now raised him up by the hand and poured life into the lifeless body. Baba then told Kishore,

God's plans are the best for us - the story of Siddhartha's enlightenment_ Part 2

The journey back home

Who would not be devastated on getting to know that beautiful instances
like these would no longer be available? Poor Sid had to vacate the hostel
in a few days time.

In the three days since the results had been announced, Sid had gotten pale and sickly with serious acidity in the stomach. It was therefore not surprising that when his mother took him to the General Hospital on the following Monday, the doctor asked him,

“These look like classic symptoms of some deep-rooted tension. Are you tense about something?”

“I am with Swami here. Why would I be tense about anything?” Sid lied through his teeth. Prescribing medicines and bed rest in the hospital, the doctor put Sid on drips. The mother was in tears seeing her son in such a condition. She wondered what had happened to him as she fondly hugged him.

The time seemed ripe for the revelation. The warmth of the hug melted Sid’s tensions and fears. A deluge of revelations poured out from his heart and he told everything to his mother. The mother had tears in her eyes and did not know what to do. But Sid was now feeling so much better. A huge weight seemed to have lifted off his heart. That in itself made his sickness evaporate and within the next couple of hours, he was slated for discharge from the hospital. The mother wrote a letter to Swami and gave it to Sid telling him to offer it to the Lord.

( If you have arrived here directly, you have missed some crucial portions of this story. It is recommended that you read Part 1 at the link given below and then continue. Else, you may be caught unawares and unable to appreciate the whole import of this experience!

God's plans are the best for us - the story of Siddhartha's enlightenment_ Part 1 )

Sid returned to his home in Puttaparthi. He was no longer allowed to stay in the hostel. He grabbed a light lunch, took some rest and got ready for the evening darshan. This would possibly be his last opportunity for enjoying darshan as a student, at least for the time being. Sid sat in his favorite spot, in the bhajan hall where he had many memories of singing for his Swami. When Swami came in, He directly beckoned to Sid. Sid moved up to Swami, gave the letter to Him and said,

“Swami, Amma has given this letter. They (University authorities) have asked me to come back to join the course again only in November.”

It was evident that Sid did not want to state directly that he had failed.

Swami pored over the letter in His hand. He called Sid to His side and placed His finger on one statement that his mother had made,

“Swami, you know what is best for my child...”

“See what your mother has written,” Swami said.

“Yes Swami! That is true. You know what is best for me,” accepted Sid.

“Go now. Come back in November,”Swami said with a pat on his back.

“Swami, whenever I visit Puttaparthi in between, can I continue to sing bhajans for you (as part of the Prasanthi Bhajan Group)?”

“Definitely... definitely... Tell your mother, I will speak to her.”

Sid was in seventh heaven. Swami had promised his mother an interview. He could not believe the reversal of fortunes. The tickets were cancelled as Sid and his mother eagerly waited for the interview. But that interview never came. Four days passed and on each of those days Sid sat in the front lines, ‘showing’ his face to Swami. Swami smiled and acknowledged his presence, but that was about it. Nitin Acharya, who was ‘assisting’ Swami those days came and told him on the fifth day,

“Sir, I think you can sit back. There is no need to sit in the front lines any more.”

Sid understood that Swami’s word had not meant an interview in the next few days. It had meant something else which he would possibly understand as time passed by. As of now, it was over and he returned to Chennai with his mother.