The
Serpent Hill
Uravakonda
derives its name from the hill that dominates
the place. At first the name was Uragakonda,
uraga
meaning serpent and
konda
meaning hill. The promontory on the hill,
formed by a single huge boulder about 100 feet
high, is in the shape of a many-hooded
serpent.
The High
School at Uravakonda will be ever famous because
of Sathya's attendance there. The fame of the
boy preceded him. The students told each other
that Sathya was a fine writer, a good musician,
a genius in dance, a student wiser than any
teacher, and one able to peer into the past and
peep into the future. Authentic stories of his
achievements and divine powers were on
everyone's lips. They were circulated by the
people who had come into the town from places
such as Bukkapatnam, Penukonda, Dharmavaram and
Kamalapur. It was related and heard with wonder
that, even as a toddler, he had the unique power
of getting from nowhere and nothing, fruits,
flowers, and sweets by a mere
wave
of his hand!
"What a wonder!" they said.
People
gathered around Sathya's brother, the new Telugu
teacher, eager to hear stories of the boy's
capabilities. Every teacher wanted to be
assigned some work in the section in which
Sathya was admitted - some out of curiosity,
some out of veneration, and some out of a
mischievous impulse to prove it all
absurd.
Sathya soon
became the pet of the entire school and the
cynosure of all eyes in the town. He was the
leader of the School Prayer Group and ascended
the dais every day when the entire school
gathered for prayer before classes commenced. It
was his voice that sanctified the air and
inspired both teachers and students to dedicate
themselves to their allotted tasks. He was the
life and soul of the school's dramatics and the
backbone of the athletic team, for he was a fast
runner and played gudugudu,
an outdoor running game, exceedingly well. He
excelled in the school scout
movement.
The teacher in
charge of the drama department, Sri Thammi Raju,
once asked Sathya to write and produce a play,
and Sathya plunged into the work
enthusiastically. The drama was a great success,
not only because the hero of the play was a
little boy, a role enacted by Sathya himself,
but also chiefly because it had as its theme the
eternal sin of man, hypocrisy. The title of the
drama was, "Do Deeds Follow Words?".
The scene
opens revealing a lady reading and explaining to
a number of women some verses from the
Bhagavata
Purana,
a legendary history. She is telling them that it
is the duty of a housewife to give charity only
to the deserving and to the defective who cannot
earn a living, not to the stalwarts who lead
idle parasitic lives. The women then disperse
and the lady is left alone with her little son,
Krishna, who has been an interested listener.
Sathya plays the role of Krishna.
Presently a
blind beggar enters and seeks to attract
attention, but he is rebuked and sent away. Then
there appears a hefty priest with a pompous
paunch and a polished copper vessel filled with
grain. On his arm is a richly ornamented musical
instrument, the tambura.
The mother respectfully welcomes him and offers
him rice and coins. She falls at his feet,
asking for his blessings. Krishna is
non-plussed. He asks his mother why she did not
follow what she herself had extolled a few
minutes previously. The boy is dismissed with
the curt answer, "Can we act as we say?" The
mother is irritated by the impertinence of the
son who dared question the ethics of adult
behavior. She drags him to a room where his
father, an accountant, is busy with
files.
He gives
Krishna a long lecture on the value of education
and how people should study and be promoted from
class to class, whatever the difficulties.
Suddenly a schoolboy pops in and asks for just
one rupee to pay his school-fees to avoid having
his name dropped from the rolls and thereby
failing to have the record of attendance
required for promotion. The father says that he
has no money with him and shows the boy his
empty purse as proof. A few minutes later a
group of young accountants belonging to his firm
rushes in. They hold out a subscription list
requesting contributions for a welcome dinner in
honor of an officer who is to take charge of
their office in a few days. The father is
jubilant at the idea, says that it must be done
aristocratically so that the new man may be
p!eased. He offers to make a speech at the
dinner and, pulling out the drawer of the table,
gives them the large sum of twenty
rupees!
Krishna is
aghast at this behavior and asks the father why
he went against his own words and why he uttered
a lie to the schoolboy. The father turns angrily
to him and asks, "Should deeds follow words?" He
rages at the child and commands him to go to
school without delay.
The scene now
shifts to the school. Krishna enters. The
teacher is in a mood of great excitement because
the inspector of schools is to visit the next
day. He coaches the children intensively for the
occasion. He explains that the inspector may
ask, "How many lessons have been done? They are
all to say not twenty-three, the actual number,
but thirty-two. He says that when the inspector
comes he will teach lesson number thirty-three
on Harischandra, the king who never uttered a
lie. He drills them on that lesson so that the
next day the answers may come quickly, and
threatens them with severe punishment should
anyone whisper that the lesson had already been
reviewed in class. He says, "It must appear as
if I'm doing it for the first time tomorrow."
When the class is over, all the other boys
leave. Krishna alone remains. He asks the
teacher the question he has already asked twice
that day. "Why do you not follow the advice you
give? Why do you tell us of the nobility of the
king and then yourself not follow his
footsteps?" He gets the same rebuff as
previously, "Do you mean to say that the adviser
should follow the advice?"
"Hypocrisy,
hypocrisy everywhere!" thought
Krishna.
The scene is
changed to Krishna's home. It is the next day,
schooltime, but Krishna refuses to go. He throws
away his books, says that going to school is a
waste of time, and states his resolve not to
study in school. The distracted parents send for
the teacher who comes rushing in. Then Krishna
says, "If all that you instruct as mother,
father, and teacher is only to be spoken and
written; if all that one learns is to be
discarded when it comes to action, I do not
understand why I should learn anything at all."
This opens their eyes to their shortcomings.
They praise Krishna as their Master and decide
henceforth to speak and act only the
truth.
This was the
theme of the drama Sathya wrote at the age of
twelve and presents a glimpse into his
farsightedness, intelligence, and enthusiasm for
true education.
Sathya was
often sought after by people who had lost
articles of value, because he was known for his
intuitive perception which revealed to him their
whereabouts. Sai Baba now says that in those
days he used to give his friends only the first
and last letters of the names of the persons
possessing the lost articles. He would leave
them to their own resources to recover the
goods.
A typical
incident was that of a teacher who had lost a
valuable pen and persuaded Sathya to disclose
the identity of the person who had taken it
without permission. In this instance Sathya
revealed the name of a servant, but the teacher
dismissed the idea because of the servant's
faithfulness and honesty. Furthermore a search
in the servant's room did not disclose the lost
pen. Sathya persisted in his statements. He said
that the man had sent the pen to his son who was
studying in Anantapur and offered to prove this
fact. He had a letter written to the son as if
from the father, who was illiterate and always
needed the services of a letter writer. After
the usual inquiries about the son's health and
welfare were made, the son was asked how the pen
the father had sent was writing. The father
advised him to be careful when using it
because it was costly and might easily be
"stolen!" There was enclosed a self-addressed
card for reply. Within four days the reply came
into the teacher's hand! The card read that the
pen was writing magnificently, would be
carefully kept because of its value, and was
considered as a precious gift from the father.
Thus Sathya's miraculous power was vindicated.
Everyone concerned complimented him.
Sathya also
won the respect of the common man in Uravakonda
by an incident similar to one in the life of Sai
Baba of Shirdi. A Muslim was frantically
searching for his horse which had either strayed
or been stolen. The horse was used to pull a
cart transporting men and goods and was the
Muslim's sole source of livelihood. Now he was
desperate, for he had searched the entire area
and his friends had combed the countryside far
and wide. There was no trace of the animal. At
last someone told the Muslim about Sathya. He
came to the boy and poured out his
grief.
Sathya
immediately told him to go to a certain grove a
mile and a half away from the town. When he did
so, the horse was found grazing all alone, quite
unconcerned at the furor its disappearance had
caused. This made Sathya famous as a wonder boy
in the Muslim community. Many times thereafter
drivers of carts stopped when seeing Sathya and
insisted on giving him a lift to or from school,
for they felt his presence would bring them good
fortune.
Incidents such
as these continued, with an occasional glimpse
of wonders, a tiny indication of the might and
majesty hidden in the slender body of the young
lad now thirteen years old.
On March 8,
1940, the entire town was shocked to hear that a
"big black scorpion" had stung Sathya. It was at
dusk, about seven o'clock, when Sathya gave a
shriek and leaped up grasping his right toe as
if he had been bitten! Although no scorpion or
snake was discovered, he fell as though
unconscious and became stiff. He did not speak
and his breathing became faint.
When such an
occurrence happens to Sai Baba now, devotees do
not feel shocked, for they are accustomed to His
leaving His gross body and going out in the
"subtle body" to other places.
As they were
then as yet unaware of the reason for these
divine instances, brother Seshama and others
became alarmed.
There is a
belief current in Uravakonda and the surrounding
country that no one can survive a snake bite or
scorpion sting received in that vicinity. It is
primarily because of the many-hooded "serpent
stone" that has given its name to the area that
the dread superstition has spread, for the rock
looks as if a serpent has raised its head to
strike with its poisonous fangs.
Seshama
brought in a doctor who gave Sathya an injection
and left some medicine. Sathya was "unconscious"
throughout the night. However, an incident
occurred in the night which clearly showed that
he was not unconscious at all. On the contrary,
he was actually supraconscious! Thinking that
the condition of the boy might be due to some
evil spirit's possession of him, someone
suggested that Muthyalamma, a spirit in a cave
near the hill, should be propitiated. Volunteers
hurried to the temple, climbed down a ladder
into the sanctum sanctorum, and offered worship
by placing flowers, burning incense, and
breaking a coconut. Just when they were doing
this in the cave, Sathya, who was to all intents
unconscious, said, "The coconut has broken into
three pieces," and when the volunteers came home
with the offerings, they had with them three
pieces of coconut instead of the customary
two!
The doctor
came again the next morning and declared that
the boy was out of danger. Sathya revived in a
day or two, then began to behave in an
extraordinary manner. This was sometimes
explained as "a complete transformation of the
personality - the occupation of Sathya's
physical frame by Sai Baba of
Shirdi."
Nothing could
be further from the truth. Sai Baba has said
that He Himself initiated the process of
manifestation, for he could not wait any longer
playing about as a mere boy with "brother,"
"sister," "classmates," and other secular bonds.
He wanted to demonstrate that he was unaffected
by poison or the poisonous objective
world.
Swami
with his brother Seshamaraju
Seshama had
informed the family at Puttaparthi about the
state of affairs at Uravakonda. He wrote his
parents that Sathya was not answering anyone who
spoke to him and that it was a Herculean task to
make him accept food. He told them Sathya was
spending his time mostly in silence, sometimes
bursting into song and poetry, sometimes
reciting long Sanskrit verses, sometimes
expounding the philosophic wisdom of ancient
India. Because of unforeseen and inexplicable
difficulties which arose to delay them, the
parents did not arrive for about a week.
Seshama's anxiety increased. He found a man who
agreed to travel to Anantapur on a bicycle and
to proceed from there to Bukkapatnam and
Puttaparthi. While he was describing to the man
the route he was to take to reach his parents,
Sathya interposed and said, "Why, you need not
send for them now; they will be here in half an
hour." True to his word, they arrived in exactly
one half hour!
The parents
caught the infection of fear upon seeing the
condition of Sathya, for he sang, spoke, and
behaved in a strange manner. Also his body would
become stiff intermittently, and he appeared to
leave the body and go elsewhere. It was all so
mysterious!
One day while
Sathya was reposing, seemingly without any
awareness of his surroundings, he made reference
to the Scripture Reader next door, saying to his
parents, "He is reading the Sanskrit book all
wrong; he is explaining it in the wrong way. Go
and bring him here," he commanded.
The Reader
would not come. "What does that boy know about
this holy book and the right or wrong of the
meaning which I give? How did he hear it, by the
way? Tell him to mind his own business," he
said, and continued his exposition. But Sathya
persisted, and the Reader had to come at least
to satisfy the parents, who pleaded, "Please
come and teach the boy a lesson in humility.
Lately he has become uncontrollable."
When the
learned man arrived, Sathya asked him to repeat
the exposition, pointed out to him wherein he
erred, and poured out in rapid succession a
series of questions on the epics which
overwhelmed the scholar. Finally he fell at
Sathya's feet and asked pardon for not
immediately obeying his summons.
The District
Medical Officer from Anantapur, who was at
Uravakonda at the time, was asked for his
opinion by the doctor who was treating Sathya.
He judged that the illness was allied to fits,
that it was a type of hysteria unconnected with
the alleged scorpion sting, and in his wisdom
advised a course of medication. This was
strictly adhered to for three days, but the
symptoms of laughing and weeping, eloquence and
silence continued as before. Sathya sang and
spoke about God; he described places of
pilgrimage to which no one had gone before; he
declared that life was all a drama! Astrologers
said it was a ghost that possessed the boy, an
old occupant of the house - in fact, its first
tenant! They chided Seshama for not being more
circumspect in his selection of a house.
Magicians ascribed the condition to a sudden
fright which must have set Sathya's nerves awry.
The priest advised Seshama to arrange for a
consecration rite in the temple. Wiser men shook
their heads and whispered that the ways of God
are inscrutable.
Seshama was
besieged by a large throng of sympathizers each
of whom had his own specific cure for the
affliction of his brother. At last he brought an
exorciser into the house. On seeing him, Sathya
challenged him, "Come on! You have been
worshipping me every day, and now that you have
come here, your only business is to worship me
and clear out." The "ghost doctor" heard the
warning administered by the very deity he had
chosen for his own personal worship. He left in
a hurry, forgetting to collect his fees! He
advised Seshama to treat the boy very
reverentially, for he was "in touch with God"
and certainly not afflicted by the
devil.
The parents
were disheartened. They took Sathya to
Puttaparthi and watched his behavior with
increasing fear. The boy himself was heightening
the effect by bouts of quietness, song, or
discourse. He would suddenly ask his sister,
"Here, wave the sacred lamp; the gods are
passing across the sky." He would say that his
school studies had been disturbed and sing a
song composed impromptu on the value of reading
and writing and how villagers are duped by the
wily moneylender if they are
illiterate.
While
travelling from Uravakonda, they had taken
Sathya to a doctor at Bellary and to another at
Dharmavaram. But what could the practitioners
diagnose? Their stethoscopes could not decipher
the beats of Godhead or reveal the pulse of a
soul, much less a Divine Soul determined to
transcend the bonds of human convention. Sathya
asked his parents, "Why do you worry like this?
There will be no doctor there when you go; even
if he is there, he cannot cure me."
Since the
first reaction to an illness in any village is
usually to fear that it is the result of
someone's black magic or some evil spirit's
taking hold of the patient, two exorcists were
called in at Puttaparthi. When one came and sat
in the room and drew up a list of the articles
necessary to invoke the spirit and transfer the
dire symptoms to a lamb or fowl, Sathya
laughingly reminded him of some items he had
forgotten. He seemed determined to undergo all
the travail resulting from their ignorance and
superstition, taking it all as fun!
It is almost
impossible to understand how the fourteen year
old boy passed through the terrors of the
treatment at the village of Brahmanapalli near
Kadiri. This is a saga of fortitude.
Someone gave
information to the worried parents about a
powerful practitioner before whom no evil spirit
dared wag its poisonous tail! They declared that
he would cure Sathya completely and make him fit
to go to school again. The bullocks and cart
were readied in preparation for the journey, but
the bullocks refused to move! There were all
kinds of difficulties and sicknesses on the way.
At last the place was reached and the "case"
handed over to the famous expert in
devil-craft.
He
was a gigantic figure, terrible to behold, with
bloodred eyes and untamed manners. He tried all
his devil-craft sacrificing fowl, then a lamb,
and making Sathya sit in the center of the
circle of blood. He chanted all the incantations
he knew. He did not allow the parents to take
the boy away, for he assumed it was a case
entrusted to him and that it was a trial of
strength between his power and that of the young
boy who was smiling at his failures! He even
attempted desperate techniques with which he had
not dared experiment even on his adult patients!
For example, he shaved Sathya's head, and then
with a sharp instrument scored "x" marks on his
scalp from the top of his head all the way to
his forehead. Sathya sat through the pain
without flinching. The witchdoctor poured on the
open wounds of the bleeding scalp the juice of
limes, garlic and other acid fruits. The
parents, who were watching the proceedings in
utter despair, were surprised, for there was not
even a tear or a gasp of pain from the young
boy! The "torture-specialist" was furious! He
arranged that every day for some days, early in
the morning, one hundred and eight pots of cold
water were to be poured on the scalp. That, too,
was done. His armory was now almost empty, and
the "evil spirit" that possessed the boy had not
admitted defeat; it had not shouted that it
would leave him and go elsewhere! He then beat
Sathya on the joints with a heavy stick to drive
out what he called "stag fever" when the boy
moved about, and "rock fever". when the boy was
quiet!
Finally he
decided to use his strongest weapon which the
toughest spirit cannot withstand, the "Kalikam."
This is a magic collyrium, a mixture of all the
fiery abracadabra in the repertory of torture.
He applied it to Sathya's eyes. The parents were
aghast at the consequences. Sathya's head and
face swelled beyond recognition; they became
red, and the burning sensation could be felt
even by those who went near, according to the
sister Venkamma. His eyes exuded tears and his
entire body shook under the impact of
pain.
The master of
devils was happy that success was in sight, that
the spirit would soon take formal leave. Sathya
never spoke a word or moved a finger. Those
around, especially the parents and sister, felt
guilty to be merely helpless onlookers of all
this torment. They wept in uncontrollable
anguish and tried to console Sathya without the
knowledge of the magician, who did not allow
anyone to approach his patient. Meanwhile Sathya
was making some signs to his parents, off and
on, asking them to be quiet. By means of
gestures he told them that he would get out of
the room under some pretext, and he asked them
to be ready for him outside. There he told them
to bring a remedy he knew. It was brought and
applied to his eyes; the two eyes which had been
reduced to the size of thin slits opened wide
and the swelling subsided!
He asked
later, "Even after seeing all that fortitude and
that miracle of a young boy passing unscathed
through all that terror, you are not now
convinced that I am Sai Baba. How then would you
have reacted if I just made the Announcement one
fine day? I wanted to make known that I am
Divine, impervious to suffering, pain, or
joy."
The "doctor"
was angered by the interference with the normal
course of his treatment; he fretted and fumed as
a wild animal balked of its prey. "I was within
an inch of victory," he raved. The parents
wanted to save their boy from the jaws of that
"God of Death" in human form; they had seen and
suffered enough. They paid the practitioner full
fees, gave him some unasked gifts, and thanked
him for all the "learning" he had utilized; they
cursed only their fate; they promised to build
up the boy's stamina a little more so that he
could stand up to this wonderful course of
exorcism and then bring him again for the
continuation of the "doctor's" attentions.
Somehow, they won! The bullocks and cart moved
away from the house of horror, and eventually
they reached Puttaparthi.
Sathya was
still far from normal. Frequently he seemed to
be another personality. He recited verses of
praise to God and poems far beyond the knowledge
of any teen-age boy. Sometimes he evinced the
strength of ten; sometimes he was as weak as a
lotus-stalk. He argued with adults on the
correctness of their conduct and behavior and
put them to shame when he proved them
wrong.
One friend of
the family advised that the boy should be taken
to a village a few miles away where a clever
"doctor" cured exactly such types of cases by
giving some green leaves as a drug.
The bullocks
were brought and the cart made ready. Sathya was
lifted onto it and the bells started jangling
along the fair-weather track.
About half an
hour later, Sathya seemed to realize that he was
being taken somewhere. He said emphatically, "I
do not want to go anywhere; let us go back."
Upon saying this, the bullocks came to a halt
and could not be persuaded to take a single step
forward in spite of the most vigorous
tail-twisting. The struggle went on for over an
hour, but they refused to budge! Finally their
faces were turned home-ward, and immediately the
bells jingled merrily once again.
Sri
Krishnamacharya, a lawyer and friend from
Penukonda, heard of these occurrences in the
Raju household and came to the village to study
the situation and offer what help he could. He
took a good look at Sathya and pondered long,
alone on the river bank. Then he told Venkapa
Raju, "It is really more serious than I thought.
Take him immediately to the
Narasimha
Temple, the shrine of 'God as Lion-Man';
that is the last chance."
Sathya heard
his words and, suddenly turning to him, said,
"Funny, is it not? I am already there in that
temple and you want to take me to me!" The
lawyer had no inclination to
cross-examine.
On
the twenty-third of May, 1940, the fourteen year
old Sathya rose from bed as usual, but soon
afterwards called the members of the household
round him and presented them with sugar-candy
and flowers taken from "nowhere." At this the
neighbors rushed in. He gave each a ball of rice
cooked in milk, also flowers and sugar-candy,
all manifested by a mere
wave
of the hand.
Sathya seemed to be in such a very jovial state
that Venkapa Raju was sent for to see him in
this welcome happy mood. Venkapa Raju rushed in
and had to squeeze his way through the crowd.
The people asked him to wash his feet, hands,
and face before approaching the Giver of Boons.
This incensed Venkapa Raju. He was not impressed
at all, thinking it was a trick and that Sathya
was hiding things somewhere and producing them
by sleight of hand. At least that was what he
confessed to the author many years later. He
wished that this confusing chapter in their
lives be closed before it developed into a
tragedy. So he laughed a bitter laugh and
accosted the boy within everyone's hearing,
"This is getting too much; it must be stopped."
Arming himself with a stick,
he moved a step nearer and threatened to beat it
out of him. "Are you a God, or a ghost, or a
mad- cap? Tell me!" he shouted. Promptly came
the answer, the Announcement that had been held
back so long, "I am Sai Baba."
Further
argument became impossible; Venkapa Raju was
stunned into silence; the stick fell from his
hands. He stood staring at Sathya, trying to
grasp the implication of that Announcement, "I
am Sai Baba." But Sathya continued, "I belong to
Apastamba Sutra, the school of Sage Apastamba
and am of the Spiritual Lineage of Bharadwaja; I
am Sai Baba; I have come to ward off all your
troubles; keep your houses clean and pure." He
repeated the two names again and again that
afternoon. Brother Seshama went near him and
asked, "What do you mean by 'Sai Baba'?" He did
not reply, but only said, "Your Venkavadhootha
prayed that I be born in your family; so I
came."
Who was this
Venkavadhootha? When Seshama was asked who he
was, he told of a tradition in the family that a
sage called Venkavadhootha, who was looked upon
as a Guru
by the people in hundreds of villages around,
had been born in the family years
ago.
The villagers
heard the name "Sai Baba" with fear and
amazement. When they made inquiries, they came
to know that a certain officer who was an ardent
worshipper of the Muslim recluse, Sai Baba of
Shirdi, had come to Penukonda sometime ago. So
they proposed that Sathya be taken to him, for
he was reputed to be well-versed in the lore of
Sai Baba of Shirdi. He must know what Sathya was
suffering from and would suggest a way out. He
condescended to see the boy but was in no mood
to examine his history. He pronounced it as a
clear case of mental derangement and advised
them to remove Sathya to an institution. Sathya
interposed and said, "Yes, it is mental
derangement, but whose? You are but a blind
servant. You cannot recognize the very Sai whom
you are worshipping!" So saying, He took from
"nowhere" hands full of
Vibhuti,
the Sacred Ash, and scattered it in all
directions in the room where they
were.
The father
felt that Sai Baba was speaking through the boy,
and asked, "What are we to do with you?" Sathya
answered promptly, "Worship Me! When? Every
Thursday! Keep your minds and houses
pure."
Later, on one
Thursday, someone challenged Sathya, asking Him,
"if you are Sai Baba, show us some proof now!"
They asked in the same spirit that the rustics
question the priest of the village temple when
he dances in ecstasy while apparently possessed.
Baba replied, "Yes, I shall." Then everyone came
nearer. "Place in My hands those jasmine
flowers," He commanded. It was done. With a
quick gesture He threw them on the floor and
said, "Look." They saw that the flowers had
formed while falling the Telugu letters,
"S
A I B A B A."
It can be seen
that Sathya was preparing the people, step by
step, for the new era of Sathya Sai. His
unconcerned coolness during all that torture at
the hands of the magician made everyone feel
that He was no ordinary boy, that He was
indeed some superior manifestation. Occasional
glimpses of His Divinity had been revealed
through an extraordinary precocity in song,
dance, music, and poetry. He had demonstrated
His Power of journeying outside His Body, His
freedom from pain and suffering, and now He had
resolved to announce to the world His
Reality.
Seshama still
had not given up his plans to push Sathya
through the High School Course, regardless of
everything. He took Him back to Uravakonda in
June and had Him admitted to the school. Now
Sathya attracted the attention of everyone, for
they had all heard of His "madness" and of the
frantic efforts of the parents to "cure" Him.
The boy was acclaimed as a mysterious prodigy, a
tiny "prophet," and was looked upon as a rare
curiosity. On Thursdays the house was full of
pilgrims from various villages who stayed until
the small hours of the night sitting around Sai
Baba, offering Him flowers and sweets. He used
to point out Seshama to them and say, "Senseless
man, he does not believe!" The headmaster of the
school bowed before the young pupil; assistant
masters, Tammiraju and Sesha Iyengar, saw
through the veil and listened to His inspiring
words.
Thursdays
became big events in Uravakonda. Sathya
surprised all when He materialized pictures of
Sai Baba of Shirdi, pieces of orange cloth that
He said were from the
kafni
that Sai wore, date fruits that were the
offerings at the Shirdi Shrine, as well as
flowers, sugar-candy and "Ash." The "Ash" was
not the kind taken from a fireplace, but taken
straight from "nowhere." One day the teachers of
the High School came in a team intent on testing
Him, bringing a number of questions which they
cast at Him from all angles, helter-skelter. He
gave them the answers in the same order as they
were put to Him, calling upon each individual
teacher to listen carefully to the answer to his
particular question. Apart from the aptness and
correctness of the answers, the performance was
remarkable even as only an intellectual
feat!
It was then
that an invitation from some townsmen from
Hospet gave an idea to Seshama. Hospet is a few
miles away from the ruins of Hampi, the capital
of the ancient Vijayanagara Empire. The deputy
inspector of schools, the health officer, the
engineer, some municipal councilors and
merchants wanted Sathya to be brought to their
town. The brother took the opportunity to go,
thinking the long journey and a picnic enroute
might improve the mental health of the boy. The
Dasara
holidays in October came in handy for the
trip.
The group
arrived at the Hampi ruins. They trudged along
the roads once lined by men and women of all the
nations of the East as well as travelers and
traders from the Middle East and the
Mediterranean shores. They saw the elephant
stables, the Palace of the Queens, the
Coronation Mound, and the Vittalanatha Temple.
They proceeded to the huge stone chariot.
Finally they came to the
Temple
of Lord
Virupaksha,
the patron deity of the Vijayanagara Emperors,
who protected and cherished Hindu culture for
almost three centuries from 1336 A.D. to 1635
A.D.
It was noticed
that throughout the morning Sathya was moving
among the ruins unaware, as one in a dream. A
reverend sage sitting in front of one of the
temples said of him, "This boy, believe me, is
Divine." When the party went into the
Temple
of Lord
Virupaksha,
Sathya too went with them, but he was more
interested in the height and majesty of the
Temple gate than in the worship at the sanctum
sanctorum. He stood outside and no one pressed
him to enter with the others. After a while the
priest waved the flame of camphor before the
idol of the lingam. (The lingam is the
representation of the Formless emerging into
Form or the Form merging into the Formless. It
is usually oval in shape.) He asked the pilgrims
to see the illuminated shrine as the flame lit
the interior. Inside the shrine they saw to
their utter amazement none other than Sathya! He
was standing in the place of the lingam, smiling
and erect, accepting their reverent greetings.
Everything about the vision of the boy was so
thrilling and unexpected that Seshama wanted to
verify whether He had not perhaps actually
strayed into the shrine evading everybody's
notice. So he hurried outside only to find
Sathya leaning against a wall, staring at the
distant horizon!
The amazement
of the members of the party can be better
imagined than described. They offered special
worship for Him that day, though it was not a
Thursday, for their faith in Him as a
Manifestation was confirmed. The people of
Hospet were alive with expectation and
excitement. The story that He was seen in the
shrine of Virupaksha
while really outside it had spread to the
town long before the party's arrival. The next
day, Thursday, Sathya, as Sai Baba, cured a
chronic tuberculosis patient by His touch and
made him get up and walk a mile. He created from
"nowhere" a variety of articles for the
devotees, and the enthusiasm of the people knew
no bounds. Bhajan
and Namasamkirtan,
chanting and singing together the praises of the
Name of God, continued far into the night; no
one was in a mood to stop.
One could
sense that the young Sai Baba was getting more
and more reluctant to be bound by routine. He
was tugging at the bonds, for history was
whispering in His ear to break away and reach
out to the four quarters! The period of
probation which Sai Baba had allotted to the
people around Him was over. He saw that the
moment had come to renounce the family name and
declare Himself to be always Sai
Baba.
[Picture:
Sai Baba in His teens]
On the
twentieth day of October, 1940, the day after
they all returned from Hampi by a special bus,
Sathya started for school as usual. The Excise
Inspector of the place, Sri Anjaneyulu, who was
very much attached to the young Baba,
accompanied Him as far as the school gate and
reluctantly went home. He seemed to see a superb
halo around the face of Baba that day, and he
could not take his eyes away from that
enchantment. Within a few minutes Baba also
turned back to the house. Standing on the outer
doorstep, He cast aside the books He was
carrying and called out, "I am no longer your
Sathya. I am Sai." The sister-in-law came from
the kitchen and peeped out; she was almost
blinded by the splendor of the halo which she
saw around Sai Baba's Head! She closed her eyes
and shrieked. Baba addressed her, "I am going. I
don't belong to you; Maya (illusion) has gone;
My devotees are calling Me; I have My Work. I
cannot stay any longer." So saying, He turned
and left in spite of her pleadings. The brother
hurried home on hearing of this, but Sai Baba
only told him, "Give up all your efforts to
'cure' Me. I am Sai. I do not consider Myself
related to you." Neighbor Sri Narayana Sastri
heard the noise; he listened and realized that
it was something serious. He ran in. Seeing the
splendor of the halo, he fell at Sai Baba's
Feet. He too heard the historic declaration:
"Maya has left; I am going; My Work is
waiting."
Seshama Raju
was non-plussed. He could hardly collect his
wits to meet the new situation. A boy, just
fourteen, talking of devotees, work, illusion,
and the philosophy of "belonging!" He could
think of only one plan. Sathya was entrusted to
him by his parents, and it was therefore his
task to inform them and keep Sathya in the house
until they came to Uravakonda for
Him.
But Sathya
would not step into the house again. He moved
out into the garden of Sri Anjaneyulu's bungalow
and sat on a rock in the midst of the trees.
People came into the garden from all directions
bringing flowers and fruits. The grove resounded
to the voices of hundreds, singing in chorus the
lines that Sathya Sai taught them. The first
prayer that He taught them that day was, as many
still remember:
"Meditate
in thy mind on the Feet of the
Guru.
This
can take you across the difficult sea of
existence in birth after birth."
His classmates
wept when they heard that Sathya would no longer
attend school, that He was much beyond their
reach, that His company was hereafter only for
those upon whom He showered His Grace. Many came
to the garden with incense and camphor to
worship Him. Some came to sympathize with the
family, some to congratulate them. Some came to
learn, and some, alas, even to laugh!
Three days
passed thus in that garden, three days of
worship. A photographer came who wanted Sai Baba
to remove a crude stone that was right in front
of Him, but Baba did not pay heed to that
prayer. The photographer took the picture
nevertheless, and lo, the stone had become an
image of Sai Baba of Shirdi! But only in the
photograph, not for all the people who had
assembled there.
One evening
while chanting, Baba suddenly said, "0 Maya has
come!" ("The illusion is presenting itself.") He
pointed out Easwaramma, the mother, who had just
arrived in hot haste from Puttaparthi. When the
parents pleaded with Him to come home, He
retorted, "Who belongs to whom?" The mother wept
and prayed but she could not shake the resolve
of the boy. He was constantly repeating the
statement, "It is all
illusion-untrue."
At last He
asked the mother to serve Him food. When she
served some dishes, He mixed them all up and
made the whole lot into a few balls. She handed
Him three of these. Swallowing them, He said,
"Yes, now False Appearance has failed. There is
no need to worry," and He re-entered the
garden.
A few days
later Sai Baba left Uravakonda. The parents were
able to persuade Him to make His way to
Puttaparthi by assuring Him that they would
henceforth abstain from ridiculing Him or
disturbing His task of meeting devotees. Sri
Anjaneyulu worshipped His Feet. The townsmen
arranged a procession to the very boundary.
Lamps were waved in reverence, and music was
sung at many places enroute.
Sai Baba was
first welcomed at Puttaparthi into the village
accountant's house by Subbamma, the accountant's
wife. Then Baba stayed for some time at the
house of the aged Pedda Venkapa Raju and later
moved to the residence of Subbaraju, the brother
of Easwaramma. But soon He moved to the house of
Subbamma, who tended Him with love and affection
and welcomed all the devotees into her spacious
home. She spared no effort to make their stay
happy and comfortable.
