The Sunday Talk Given by Anil Kumar

“Now and Then”

Talk Given In Brindavan - Whitefield”

(Part 1)

June 19, 2011

Sai Ram

With Pranams at the Lotus Feet of our most beloved Bhagavan,

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

THE PERSONAL PRESENCE OF BHAGAVAN IS VERY MUCH MISSED

I feel very, very pained and heavy at heart to be speaking in the physical absence of our most beloved Bhagavan. For twenty-two years I have spoken in this institute (and even earlier, from 1978) and had the privilege to speak to devotees in the Poornachandra Auditorium, in the Kulwant Hall, and at Trayee Brindavan, Bangalore. Therefore, to now stand before you without Him is very, very painful.

He was so kind, giving me liberty to talk to Him and ask questions that were outside the norm. In fact, they were questions that were risky because of the danger of reprimand for being so bold. Yet He was so generous and compassionate, and especially kind in that He would tolerate my talking like that. I say “tolerate” because even when everyone felt that some of the questions that I asked were beyond limits, He would smile and answer them. I miss Him very much personally.

COMING TO BRINDAVAN

It was because of Bhagavan’s personal invitation that I went to Karnataka to be the principal of the Brindavan campus. Previously I was the state president of the Sathya Sai Organisation in Andhra Pradesh for over five years—I think that success brought me here. However, compared to my previous surroundings, habits, and the kind of company I had there, coming here was a shock and it took me quite some time to adjust to the different ambience. But He helped me continue for six long years.

In the first two or three years, I was alone as my children were still studying at my native place, Guntur, in Andhra Pradesh. I used to live in the bungalow, with no bridge (referring to the bridge adjacent to Brindavan Ashram, which was constructed in recent years), no flats nearby, no street lights, nothing at all, except for one or two stray, mad dogs on the street. There was nothing I could do except to fall flat in front of Bhagavan—that was the background of my stay here.

NEW EXPERIENCES

Furthermore I come from an extended family. Imagine how it was to live all alone in that bungalow! After completing their classes and some games, the boys would run back to the hostel, and I would remain there on my own.

Believe me, every day I used to feel, ‘What is this, God? Is this the punishment You have given me for being successful as the president of the Sathya Sai Organisation? Had I known it earlier, I would have been a total failure! Then my life would not have been disrupted, and I could have continued where I was!’

Secondly, I am used to eating hot stuff—the hot, hot pickles of Andhra Pradesh. In Karnataka, the pious people eat non-spicy (sathwic) food! I have a rajasic or more extreme taste—even hot chillies find a comfortable place in my belly, as if it were air-conditioned! (Laughter) Nothing hot whatsoever will disturb me at any point of time.

Another difference: Guntur has only one season—summer, summer, and more summer! That is all it has, no other season. So Bangalore made me realise for the first time how cold a cold climate could be.

Then in those days, I tell you, lorries used to pass by the bungalow with their bright headlights shining through the windows. On the wall, there were pictures that could have come from the 1962 Bollywood suspense film, “Bees Saal Baad”. The headlights would fall on these pictures! With such pictures in focus and me staying there all alone, I was very, very frightened and wanted to run away from it all!

And what to say about the lizards, the lizards of Bangalore! I don’t know whether they have changed their habits now, but in those days they used to make a peculiar sound (tick, tick). So with these strange pictures on the wall and the sounds of the lizards, imagine staying there by yourself . . .

Aaah! What a lovely honeymoon period it was! (Laughter) May God forbid that anyone should be in such a situation! I wanted to get away at the earliest opportunity, and every day I decided to leave—but I could not.

THE FIRST AND LAST EXPERIENCE IN THE ART OF COOKING

Somehow, in this manner, days passed by. Hailing from a place where my in-laws also stayed (which meant that I never had to go to a hotel for a meal), I had no knowledge of cooking. Here, I had to go to the canteen and eat foods which were like Brahma Padardha (universal matter)! It was very difficult to identify whether it was soup or curry or lentils. Or the dishes were Ekameva Advitiyam Brahma (One-without-a-second)! It was a very tough time, foodwise.

After seeing my situation, my wife used to come every month and stay for a couple of days, each time travelling for 19 hours. This went on for two long years. Then she thought that I had better learn some cooking. So one day, she wrote down instructions on the reverse side of the calendar’s blank page—like how to cook, how to place the cooker, when to heat it, how to prepare the rice, and all that.

I said, “Okay, let me try.”

The day I planned to try my hand at cooking was the same day Bhagavan was to leave Bangalore to go back to Puttaparthi. Before His departure, it was the custom for staff members to assemble inside Trayee Brindavan (Baba’s Bangalore residence) and perform arathi to Swami.

So my first experiment of cooking was on the same day that Swami would leave Bangalore at 9:30 am. I started cooking at 9 o’clock and scrupulously followed the instructions, as one does qualitative analysis in the chemistry laboratory, one step after another (Laughter).

In the set of instructions, my wife had written to remove the cooker after it had whistled three times . . . then the food would be ready. I waited half an hour, then forty minutes—but still no three whistles! (Laughter) It was time to go to Swami for the arathi and I was in a hurry. I wanted to throw that cooker out on the spot! But I switched everything off and ran to Trayee Brindavan to join the faculty giving arathi to Swami.

And Bhagavan, in front of everybody, immediately asked, much to my embarrassment, “How is the cooking?” (Laughter)

Well, what am I to say? “Swami, I got very annoyed with this cooking. The lid would not come off . . . the three whistles never happened. What am I to do?”

Then Swami said, “There was no water in the cooker! (Laughter) How can you expect it to whistle?”

That was my first experiment—my first and last experiment in the beautiful art of cooking.

Swami continued, “I know you cannot manage it any longer. Enough of this!”

He asked one gentleman to bring two bottles of pickles from His room. When they were brought to Him, He said, “Use these bottles of pickles. Take them to the canteen and they will be enough to spice up your food.”

That is how it happened—a memory that I can never forget!

BHAGAVAN’S OMNIPRESENT: BATH STORY

I want to share with you another incident. Because of the cold climate in Bangalore, I had a heater to make the bathwater hot. Once I had to go to Puttaparthi for an academic council meeting, on official work. I took the heater with me because I was now used to having a bath in hot water.

At the meeting, the first seat in the first row is reserved for the principal of the campus. So I could take my time in getting there. I put the heater on with fifteen minutes to go. But as I was about to bath, I found that the water was not hot enough. Why? Because the power had gone off! So with no hot water, what was I to do? I decided to have a khandasnaan or a sponge down. After that, I applied a body spray all over and put on a new suit. Then I went and sat with the rest of the faculty members.

Our gentle Lord, holding His red robe with one hand, and waving His other hand in the air, came with a loving, beautiful smile, a most attractive smile. He walked closer and closer and stood in front of me. Then I knew there would be some entertainment at my expense! (Laughter)

He raised both of His hands and looked up and said, “Some people come for darshan without having a bath.” (Laughter) All the boys and teachers were wondering to whom this remark was directed.

Before He could take the conversation further and before those around me could work out who the person was, I was praying to Swami, ‘Please keep walking. I had Your darshan and many people are now waiting for it.’

Then He looked at me and said, “I meant you!” (Laughter) Before I could say anything, Bhagavan told me, “Puttaparthi is a very hot place. Why do you need hot water? You can have a cold water bath.”

After this, Swami left. That morning, thirty foreigners were called for an interview. We like to think we can estimate the interview time, depending on whether the people are foreigners, students, or the parents of students, and so on.

So I made my calculations and immediately went back to my room. The power supply had come back by then. I got two buckets of water and had my bath with a vengeance, using half of the soap, as well. I changed my clothes, applied the body spray again, and then returned. The interviews were over. It was bhajan (devotional singing) time, and therefore Swami should be going to the bhajan hall. But instead He walked towards me and said, “A normal bath is enough, sir—not an extra-ordinary bath.” Well, I cannot forget that experience.

BHAGAVAN’S OMNISCIENT: SHED CONSTRUCTION FOR SUMMER COURSE

It was in Brindavan that I experienced what closeness or nearness to Baba really meant. I learnt that we cannot bluff, lie, or be wrong in giving information to Swami.

This is the story. Swami wanted a huge shed to be raised for the Summer Course by the side of the college auditorium, facing the guest house. This was to be specially built to accommodate guests who were to attend the course. Mr Srinivasan, the then vice-chairman of the World Council, was asked to do the job. He brought about thirty-three tin sheets, and labour from Madras, for this purpose. The labourers successfully erected thirty-two sheets with only one sheet remaining to be done.

I checked on their progress and the workers said to me, “Yes, sir, we can complete the job, no problem.”

It was bhajan time and I came straight to Trayee Brindavan.

Bhagavan asked, “Is the work over?”

I said, “Swami, it is over.”

“Then let us go there,” He said.

He sat in His car and we drove to the auditorium. That remaining sheet was still on the ground, untouched.

He asked “Why did you say it was over?”

I said, “Swami, the fellows said they will be able to finish it all.”

Swami replied, “That is what you should have said. You said it is “over”, but it is not so.”

I queried Him, “Swami! When you know, why do You ask me?” (Laughter)

Then Baba told me, “I know, but to make you know that I know, I brought you here.” (Laughter)

This is also an instance which I cannot forget.

BHAGAVAN’S INSTRUCTIONS MUST BE FOLLOWED IMPLICITLY

Summer Courses had resumed in the auditorium after a ten-year gap. As the auditorium chairs had not been used in all that time, Swami instructed me to definitely see that every screw was tight. “See that it is done, so that students or guests cannot fall from a collapsing seat.”

I said, “Of course, Swami.”

We made all the students go and check the seats, and they reported that all seats were perfect, quite tight. Everyone told me, “Sir, they are all tight.” ‘Very good,’ I thought.

Swami came at 10:30 in the morning and He asked, “Mr. Anil Kumar, are all the seat rows right?”

I replied, “Perfect, Swami.”

“Did you check them?”

“Aah . . .yes, Swami.”

“Go to the fifteenth row and check the tenth chair,” Swami said.

I counted down and Swami kept saying, “No, no, that one.”

I eventually located the chair that was not tightly fixed.

Then Swami said, “You see, you did not take enough care in checking each seat.”

I said, “Swami, I have one thing to say.”

“What?”

“Everything was perfect. In order to embarrass me, You loosened the screws in that one seat. (Laughter) But before You did that, all the screws were as tight as in the other chairs!”

“No, no, that chair too should have been perfect.” Swami replied.

SWAMI KNOWS EVERYTHING

All the auditorium windows have curtains. The old curtains are replaced when new curtains are made. Once it happened that a window curtain was lost during this replacement process. I didn’t want Swami to see that there was a missing curtain, so I took away the one that would have been at its side. Now both windows would be uniformly blank. (Laughter)

He came along and immediately said, “What about the curtains here?”

I replied, “Swami, I have given them to the dhobi (the laundry man) as they were stained.”

Swami said, “Dhobi? No, one is lost and you have removed the other one. (Laughter) And then you say you have given it to the dhobi as if it is your grandfather’s property.”

And I replied, “No, no, Swami! I did not give the other one to the dhobi. I am sorry.”

Swami said, “I know that you did not give the lost curtain to the dhobi. Where am I? I am in you, I am in the hall, and in the curtain also. Understand that I know everything; you cannot bluff Me.”

I remember this incident also very well.

“WHERE IS MY CHAIR?”

Then there is the episode with Mr. Gopal, who was the owner of Chellaram’s, a furniture store in Bangalore.

He said to me, “Mr. Anil Kumar, I will take this chair away for repairs.”

I said, “Why not? Take it.”

He took the chair; and I went and had lunch. It was then that Swami sent word, asking for me.

Swami asked, “Where is My chair? Where is My chair?”

I replied, “What chair, Swami?”

Swami said, “My chair. Where is it?”

I explained, “Swami! Your chairs are here. And there are a number of chairs in the Mandir (the temple), and in the college, too.”

Swami said, “No, no! I want that chair.”

I replied, “Swami, what chair is that?”

Swami said, “The chair that you sent to the city without My permission for repair. Why? You will mortgage My college also! (Laughter) I know that.”

I asked, “Swami, why do you want that chair?”

“There are some photographers here and I want a picture taken now. I want to sit only on that chair. I want that chair.”

And then I was very nervous and sweating heavily about the missing chair. Swami went away.

That evening, we had a meeting here in the Kalyana Mandapa (the venue for cultural programmes and conferences.)

Swami was walking along slowly and He looked at Dr. Padmanabhan and said, “Look here, Doctor! Emanoppa Guntur ninchi vadini tecchinaanu principal kindha, naa college market lo ammivesthunnadu.” (“Doctor, I don’t know! We got this fellow from Guntur and made him the principal of this college, and now it looks like he is selling the college in the open market!”)

He was saying that I was selling His college!

And then He looked at Ganghadhar Chetty and told him, “Maa college samaanuluanni bus stand lo ammuthunnaadu. Naa chair leedhu. Naa chair leedhu.” (“He is selling all our college items in the bus-stand. My chair has gone!”)

Appa appa! (Oh, father!) There are so many chairs, you see. But He wanted that chair only. This was a lesson for me to learn that nothing could be done without His prior permission. Everything should brought to Him first.

BABA’S LESSON IN THE CAMPUS GROUNDS

And In the first year, I had another experience. What happened was this: it was the practice in Brindavan for army personnel to come from the city to do service. Once, the army people came to the college campus and did garden work. I didn’t know about that arrangement, but was happy to see them working there. What was the harm, after all?

At 10 o’clock, Swami called me, asking, “Who are those people?

I replied, “I don’t know, Swami.”

Swami said, “You don’t know. Do you know who you are?” (Laughter)

I answered “Swami, I am . . . ”

He interrupted me, “Who are you?”

“Swami, I am Anil Kumar.”

“No, no! What is your position here?”

I said, “Swami, You brought me here as principal.”

Swami answered back, “Hah! So anybody can enter into the campus without the knowledge of the principal—buffaloes, donkeys—anybody can enter. Why did I bring you here?”

“Oh! I see.”

Swami shouted all this and then left.

Immediately I went and questioned the people there. “Who are you? Where do you come from?” and so on. Then I learnt they were from the army. One was from Tamil Nadu, one from Punjab, one from Andhra and so on. Major Sood was in charge and he was settled in Patiala. After that, I reported to Swami at Trayee Brindavan.

Swami said, “Let us go and see them.”

We went over to the campus gardens. And because I now had the information, I told Swami, “He is from Tamil Nadu, and he is from Punjab.”

And Swami said, “Ha, ha! Atlana!” (“Oh, I see.”) As if He never knew!

As I continued, Swami would say, “Manchidi, Atlana! Machidi, bangaru manchidi.” (Oh, is that so? Very good, Bangaru.)

Then I took Him to Mr. Sood.

“Swami! He is Major Sood and he brings his army people here every week to give service.”

Swami said, “Aha! Atlana. Manchidi, Bangaru.”(Bangaru is a term of endearment.)

Then He grasped Major Sood’s finger. “Aha! I gave you this ring ten years ago.”

He took the ring off and blew on it. It changed into a diamond ring and Swami put it back on to his finger.

He said, “Your daughter must be doing medicine, right?”

“Yes, Swami!” said Major Sood.

“When I was on the North Indian tour, she was just a child. And your boy, he is now a bank manager, I know.”

And here I was, wondering. So slowly I asked, “Swami, what is all this about? You shouted to me asking, “Why they are here?” And You told me that you didn’t know anything about them—but You know them all very well!”

Swami said, “No, no. You are supposed to know who they are. I know everything. But you should at least know this. Therefore, I talked like that to show you that what goes on in the campus grounds is your responsibility too, as principal.”

“Oh, Swami!” Then I said, “Swami, shall I ask them to quit since they came here without my permission? Shall I ask them to leave?”

Bhagavan replied, “Since you have not invited them, you cannot ask them to go.” (Laughter)

See that, ah! All these lessons from Swami kept me in a fix.

BHAGAVAN KNOWS ALL LANGUAGES

This hall is built by Ramesh Beti, who has another granite factory in Tumkur. Swami was going there to inaugurate it. I went too. There was this wonderful, wonderful shamiana (a temporary shelter made of thick cloth) especially made for the purpose. The place was full of people, amongst whom were the Union Minister, Arjun Singh, and international dignitaries who were also members of the board. As well, there were some advisory members of the Tumkur factory. A beautiful musical performance was given by Anup Jalota.

At the end of the meeting, Swami slowly walked out of the shamiana. I followed Him. Swami went to a big hall where the first Board of Directors’ meeting was held. There was one dignitary from Japan, another from France and another from Germany—an international board of directors. A wonderful table with chairs around it was set up.

I was stuck with this dilemma: ‘Should I go or not?’ If I go, He may ask, “Who asked you to come?” If I do not go, He may say, “Why have I brought you here? Do you know the purpose?” So to be or not to be, that was the question.

Ultimately, I decided to stand at the entrance and show half my body like that (Laughter). ‘If He looks at me with disapproval, I can run off. If He calls me, I can run close to Him.’ Either way, I was standing at a respectable, safe distance from Him.

Swami was talking to all the dignitaries and then He looked at me and said, “Come on, come on. Eami choosta undavu?” (“What are you staring at?”)

I said, “En Swami…inni bhashalu matladutunnaru?” (“You are talking to the Germans in the German language, and also to the French and Japanese in their languages.”)

Swami said, “Haha Avunu, Emmi? (Yes, I can talk those languages.) Why do you comment?”

I continued, “Swami! I can see that You are able to speak so many languages, so why do I translate Your Telugu discourses into English, when You could easily speak them in English?”

Then Bhagavan said, “I know all languages. The Avatar (the descent of God in human form) has taken birth in a particular country and the language of that land must be blessed. Their people must be blessed and the village where I was born should also be blessed. It is for this reason that I speak in Telugu; not that I do not know English, sir.”

I said, “Yes, Swami, I understand. But why bring me here as translator?”

Swami said, “I brought you here so that you would know that I know English!” (Laughter)

THREE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF SPIRITUALITY

There are many more experiences of this kind, my friends. But I know that this audience is heterogeneous. We have some youngsters from the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning, Brindavan campus, who are first year students and who have not had the same exposure to Bhagavan as we had in those past years. I narrated these experiences to let them know about Bhagavan. It was not that I was unaware of the topic given for this talk and the responsibility that lies ahead of me. So the boys must be convinced by now that:

1. Bhagavan knows all the languages.

2. Bhagavan is everywhere.

3. You cannot hide anything from Him.

These are the three fundamental principles of spirituality. If you know that, this is the be-all and end-all of everything. (Applause)

ELDERLY RESIDENTS, THEN AND NOW

I also know that there is a section of the audience who have moved very closely and intimately with Bhagavan, spending decades and decades in His Divine company. Now they feel frustrated, dejected, isolated and lonely, and find life meaningless. This is particularly so for those in Prashanthi Nilayam, who saw Swami day-in and day-out. There are those who stay in sheds 31, 32 and 33, septuagenarians and octogenarians with arthritis, spondylitis, and so on, who cannot walk any distance but still manage to walk to bhajans. There are those sweeping the campus, who eat left-over rice served to them every day—how do they feel now? What is their reaction now? Their only hope, their only refuge is Bhagavan Himself.

Then we find many people living outside Prashanthi Nilayam. There are singles, or a lone widow or a widower, or the elderly who have left their children and their property. They told their children that they want only Bhagavan and they want to settle here. They purchased a flat outside the ashram and live there on their own.

What will happen to them, Swami? I am not very concerned about youngsters who can move away at any time. We are witness to many such flights. But how about these old people who have decided to stay here, those who are away from their children? How do they carry on?

WORK SITUATION OF TOP SAI GRADUATES, THEN AND NOW

And there are many young people working in the Hospital, the Institute, or the Trust. These were boys who were gold medallists with post-graduate qualifications. They are working here for just five or six thousand rupees (about $140 US dollars), while their classmates earn at least one to two lakhs of rupees (one lakh = one hundred thousand) in the cities. Why do they stay here? Gold medallists, top people . . . well, they are all here in Prashanthi.

Some of them are my students also. Ashwin was my student—a very brilliant, extraordinary student. I very often thought that he could have had a wonderful career as a university professor, instead of as a technician here. Other examples are Ramesh Aravind or Chandrasekhar, or Praveen in biology—all top Sai boys. Yes! What made them work there? They are all excellent academicians. Their counterparts who have not even half their talent or knowledge are far, far better off financially, earning big pay packets. But what made these boys stay? What will happen, Swami? Who will inspire them, Bhagavan?

LIFESTYLE OF LONG-TERM STAFF MEMBERS, THEN AND NOW

We also know of many staff members who have been here for the last three decades; and some spend their summer vacations here also. Dr. Ravi Kumar and Mr. Sanjay Sahani have been here for a long time. Their vacation is at Puttaparthi, while their professional life is at Brindavan. They swing like a pendulum between these two places. I don’t think that they know their home towns any more, or would be recognised if they go back, because they have spent all their lifetime here. What will happen to them? Who will inspire them, Bhagavan?

BHAGAVAN IS LIVING REALITY

That is how I feel . . . so sorry, so sad, and so frustrated. But yet I know, Bhagavan, that You are a living reality! Swami, You are existential reality. You are ever-living and never-failing. You are the ever-loving God amidst us, who will continue to be with us forever and ever and ever! There is no doubt about it. (Applause)

BHAGAVAN IS BEYOND THE BODY

After all, it is only the physical body that He left. When Bhagavan says, “You are not the body,” I cannot say, “Swami, You are the body.” When you are not the body, how can He be the body? So you and I and Bhagavan are not limited to the framework of our body. However, we operate at the level of the body. He is beyond the body at all times, any time, every day. So Swami has not left us!

BHAGAVAN SHOWED US THAT HE WAS NOT THE BODY

The health problems that Bhagavan experienced puzzled me. Bhagavan, how is it that You developed such complications? You needed a pacemaker for a heart condition; then a ventilator for lung problems. You underwent dialysis for kidney failure. And there was jaundice because the liver did not function properly.

How is it that these all occurred simultaneously? Many doctors state this is not possible. Usually there is one problem leading to another, over a period of time.

Well, after thinking deeply about this, I concluded that these problems must have been there earlier, but He didn’t pay attention to them. He was showing us that He is beyond the body, and is not the body.

BHAGAVAN SRI SATHYA SAI BABA SACRIFICED HIS LIFE TO SERVE HUMANITY

My friends, some of you here must have known of the days when He ran a temperature of 102 or 103 degrees. Regardless, He would go ahead with His discourse, speaking half an hour, or an hour more than usual. You know that. So these are instances to tell you that these problems must have been there, but He didn’t heed them.

In other words, He strained every nerve, every cell, every drop of His blood for the service of humanity, unmindful of His health and the body. (Applause)

The continual chain of illnesses and the repeated problems certainly indicate how much suffering He underwent to serve humanity.

History has recorded only one other incarnation who sacrificed His life, His blood, bearing all the pain and suffering. It was Jesus Christ then, and today it is Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba. There has been nobody else from then to now! (Applause)

SWAMI CAN CURE HIMSELF IF HE WILLS

On the other hand, I remember other occasions when Baba chose to cure a physical condition. Once was in Kodaikanal (a hilltop town where Baba has an ashram) when we noticed that He was suffering from a temperature.

I quietly suggested to Him there that we could hold a bhajan session.

I couldn’t say, “Please, let us cancel Your talk, Swami.” If I did, I might finish up in the huge lake that is in front of the building! (Laughter)

Swami gave His answer to that: “Then you can speak.”

I said, “Swami, they have not come here for my speech. They have come to listen to You, not to me.”

Swami insisted, “No, no, you speak. Emmi thappu.” (“Nothing wrong with that.”)

I replied, “Swami, I want to live a little longer! (Laughter) Please spare me.”

He asked Gopinath (who was a witness to all this) to take His temperature. It was 103 degrees and His Hands were shaking. He could not speak. But He went to the bhajan hall and after three or four bhajans, He asked them to stop. Then Swami gave a solid talk for half an hour. The temperature didn’t bother Him.

He asked me afterwards, “Emmappa! Joram, fever, pappa emmi sesadhi?” (“The body is suffering from fever. What can I do?”)

He pities His body. What could I say? ‘Yes’? ‘No’? I kept my face blank and we went inside.

There He asked Gopinath to check His temperature again and it was still 103 degrees.

Bhagavan then said to the boys, “Boys, do you want Me to cure Myself?”

All the boys said, “Yes, Swami!”

And He told them, “Come on, close your eyes and pray.”

In five minutes’ time, His temperature read 98.4 degrees—it was normal. That is Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba! (Applause) So the One who can control His temperature in no time at all, can’t He cure Himself?

In 1988, He had a very painful fracture in the pelvic region. It caused severe, excruciating pain. In Bhagavan’s words, “Doctors and patients can testify that it is so.”

The fracture occurred at the time of the Onam Festival. Swami was there in a wheelchair. But He stood up and gave a talk as usual. The fracture and pain didn’t bother Him.

There was another happening when He went on a trip to Goa and the left side of His body was paralysed. Bhagavan was carried around on a stretcher. But later He sprinkled water on the left side and it became normal. Baba then got up and gave His talk.

BHAGAVAN IS NOT THE PATIENT—HE IS THE DOCTOR

When Bhagavan could go beyond the temperature, when He is unmindful of the fracture, when paralysis is nothing, what about the problems that saw Him admitted to hospital and intensive care? The truth is that they cannot bother Him.

But what of all the medical procedures put into place for Bhagavan’s recovery? There were doctors from Bombay, Bangalore, Delhi, and overseas. At one time there were thirty-six doctors, then eighteen, and later twelve, all working tirelessly round the clock.

Every day, they did namaskar (salutation or obeisance to the Lord) and pray to Him to guide them about what is to be done.

This tells us that He is not the patient! He is the Doctor of doctors—Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba! (Applause)

Om . . . Om . . .Om

Asato Maa Sadgamaya

Tamaso Maa Jyotirgamaya

Mrityormaa Amrithamgamaya

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

Jai Bolo Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Babaji ki Jai!