Coping with the physical absence of Sri Sathya Sai Baba - two stories and an experience

The day after which everything changed

For the followers of Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, the 24th of April 2011 marks the end of an era and (naturally so), the beginning of another. It is a day on which everything changed forever because the Swami that they so dearly loved discarded the lovely form that He had donned for nearly 86 years. Having painstakingly taught them for decades that He would always be in them, around them, beside them and with them, He decided that it was the time for the practical examination. 

When my mind goes back to the period after that, it just becomes numb. It is hard to remember anything 'memorable' after that 24th. Yet, His word can never fail. It is possibly with this faith or maybe hope that I stay on, doing the things that I feel will please my Swami. It is this faith (or hope) that keeps the millions of His devotees going. Lucky are those with that hope; luckier still are those with that faith. But for those like me, who have bouts of doubts and sadness at missing His lovely form, here are a couple of stories that Swami would narrate which give us a solution and thus solace. 

It was the 22nd of August, 2011 - the first Krishnashtami (birthday of Lord Krishna) that we would be celebrating at Prasanthi Nilayam in the physical absence of Swami. I suddenly felt a pinch of emptiness in my heart. My mind raced to the years before when He would feed the animals so lovingly. It especially raced to the the most memorable Krishna Janmashtami of my life when Swami showed me that though He seems to be absent, He knows everything that goes on everywhere and at every time! And soon, there were tears in my eyes. 

This is the irony of life - we laugh remembering the moments we have cried in the past and we cry remembering the moments that we have laughed and been happy in the past!

The form of God can be matched by ONLY one thing

I closed my eyes visualising that beautiful form of Swami. It was so hard to stop the tears. Possibly in a bid to bring some solace to my heart, I began chanting His name - the Sai Gayatri. The solace actually came! Why would it not? Hadn't Swami Himself promised it? Here is the story that He would often narrate to emphasize on remembrance of the Lord's name. It is popularly known as Krishna Tulabhaaram.

How God helps in our Karma - the fruits of action.

Fluctuating fortunes

It was the summer of 2002. Like some of the special summers before that, Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba had decided to conduct the Summer Course in Indian Culture and Spirituality. The venue, as in most cases, was the Whitefield Ashram in Bangalore. It turned out to be a most unforgettable one for me because of an experience it gifted me. Swami used that period to teach me a powerful lesson about Karma and the way Guru/God deals with it. 

For those that are unaware of what a Summer Course with Sri Sathya Sai Baba is, here is a brief description. It had started off as a study of the Indian scriptures and value systems for a period of 15-20 days for the youth from various parts of India. Swami would take active interest in it and would address the students on a daily basis. The students were also blessed to hear talks by many scholars and erudite speakers. As years passed by, attending a Summer Course was made a special privilege of only the students studying in the various educational institutions started by Swami. The format and schedule remained the same. 

It was the 26th of May, 2002 to be precise. The Buddha Poornima celebrations overlapped with the concluding days of the Summer Course that year. The programme was by devotees from Nepal who had filled the Brindavan Ashram. I was part of the audio team that controls and takes care of the sound system during the programmes in Sai Ramesh Hall. As part of my duty, I was seated right in the front of the hall, walkie-talkie in hand, with the bhajan group. I had to give real-time updates and feedback about the microphone volumes to the team.

I also was assigned another job. This was a time when Swami had suffered a fall and had difficulty walking up the stairs. As a result, two lifts had been erected - one on the ladies’ side and one on the gents’ side - for Swami to move up and down.

Those were the days when Swami, at times, would come for Darshan in the golf-car and return by walk...Some days, He chose to walk both ways...

I was told that if Swami used the lift on the gents’ side of the hall to go up the stage, I should send the ladies’ side lift also up, so that both lifts are available for Swami in case He wishes to descend. It had to be done manually as this synchronicity of the lifts had not yet been automated. Swami, on that day, completed His darshan rounds and moved up the lift from the ladies’ side. The lift on the gents’ side stayed down. Over the walkie-talkie I got an instruction,
“Move to the gents’ side and raise the lift up.” 

I was in a dilemma because, as Swami sat on the dais, I was right in front of Him. I also had my Nikon SLR camera in hand. Would it not be conspicuous if I got up and went over to the lift? Would not Swami get upset at my ‘indiscipline’ of moving about during a programme?

Even as I was lost in thoughts, I got another message,
“The warden is here. He says that you better go and raise the lift up. Otherwise, in case Swami wants to go down the gents’ side, He will be made to wait.” Now, the warden of our hostel in Brindavan also happened to be sort of an administrative head of the Brindavan Ashram. He was considered as Swami’s ‘right hand’ to execute various activities. If he was saying, I better do it, I thought. (That is a fatal mistake. To allow anyone, however high or powerful he might be, to come between you and your Guru/God). So, I just got up and walked to the lift. I pressed the green button that took the lift up.

Immediately, I felt a hand pull me down. It was a teacher and he seemed upset. He said, “You fool! Why did you get up and move? Swami was going on seeing you. He does not like such indiscipline. Now, just sit here and don’t do anything foolish.” I sat down at the lift, a little scared about facing Swami’s ‘irritation’. But my attention was on my Nikon 801s camera that was on the floor, right in front of Swami. The bhajans were on and everyone were singing out loud. The Buddhist devotees sitting there were lost in the ecstasy of devotion and I was worried. One swipe of an excited limb and my camera would be history! I sat with bated breath, waiting for the programme to conclude.

One of the few pictures I took before I went over to the lift on the gents' side of Sai Ramesh Hall. 

About half an hour later, Swami gently rose and received Aarthi. Then, He again moved towards the lift on the ladies’ side. As He moved down, in accordance to the policy, I lowered the lift on the gents’ side also. Swami began to walk in the opposite direction towards the ladies’ side exit of the hall. At this time, I got up and rushed back to my placein order to safeguard the camera. 

And then, it happened...