Teacher of Truths
The following article is adapted from a contribution by Professor N. Kasturi, published in the commemorative issue of Sanathana Sarathi, titled Garland of Golden Rose, released on Sathya Sai Baba’s fiftieth birthday.
“You cannot label me as a man-God or a God-man, a miracle worker, or a healer. This Avatar has come in a new role—the role of Teacher of Truths, a Sathya-bodhaka,” says Baba. Sathya is truth. Not the truth of a thing, the truth of an incident, or the truth of an individual. He is the truth of that which persists forever, that which makes the knower free, and that which, if known, explains all knowledge. It is, as Baba says, the Truth of Truths.
Baba proclaims this truth every time He addresses a gathering as, “Embodiments of the supreme atma (soul).” Those words take us far back into human history when people first opted to leave inferior company behind and start the long journey to Prasanthi Nilayam, the abode of supreme peace. History began when Baba, who was alone, desired ekoham bahusyam (I am one; let me become many). Baba has the promise and power of every form and quality of life, the plans and potential for every grain of matter.
Man has in him an unquenchable thirst for discovering and disappearing into the “one that is the only reality.” When Baba felt aham (as in ekoham), the ego first manifested in the cosmos. When He became bahu (many), each unit of the bahu had within it the seed of the primeval desire, the elementary expression of the primeval ego. He is the ocean on which everything is a wave, an entity with form, identifiable as different from others by a name. He is the Paramatma (supreme soul) and we are the names and forms enveloping Him in us—that is to say, we are atmas. That is the reason He addresses us as Divya–atma-swarupa— the Divya-atma—His own form, the Divine form. That word is a lesson from the great teacher, a call from the sources of our souls, a challenge for our smallness, an initiation into the sacred journey, which alone can take us into eternal bliss.
Baba is very particular that every man and woman should learn first about themselves, as repositories of Divine strength, before they involve themselves in the world and its activities. He says we are like children who learn to walk at home. We move out into the crowded streets to deal with traffic and risk uncertainty only after we become sure-footed. “Do not view the self from the depth of nature; view the objective world from the height of the self,” He advises. His teaching always has as the core, “You are the atman, the wave of the ocean. You are essentially divine; be aware of the divine more and more. Let it illumine your character, your words, and your actions.” To those who are convinced that Baba is the supreme atman that animates each one of the individual atmans, He puts this more plainly, “I am in you. You are in me. We cannot be separated.”
A famous classical scholar once visited Prasanthi Nilayam and prostrated himself before Baba. He prayed, “Baba, help me to liberate myself.” Patting the man’s back, Baba replied, “There is no bondage; you are ever free.” The scholar reported that those words opened his eyes to the stark truth. He was living in a prison that his own mind had built around him. The key to the door of his cell was in his own hands. Baba is ever alert to nip flaws and foibles in the bud so that they will not blight the process of thought.
Swami once corrected a similar blight in my thinking process when, in His presence, I expounded on His omnipresence, beautifully described in the Gita, “Sarvathah pani padam…,” I expanded enthusiastically on the excerpt from the Gita, “My hands and feet are everywhere.” I gave many examples from the experience of devotees. Baba had caught children in unseen hands and held them safe when they fell from rooftops. His foot-prints sometimes appear in homes and shrines in distant places; they are outlined in streaks of fragrant vibhuti (holy ash). Suddenly, Baba interrupted my speech, saying, “This chap is not quite convinced of what he says. If I stay away from this place for a few weeks, he writes to me moaning that for days he has had no chance to touch the feet!”
Swami says, “I never speak a word without meaning and significance. Each word carries a message to comfort, console, or cure someone who is in dire need.” His lectures are what He calls “mixtures,” meaning medicines. They are intended to allay fear and alleviate misery. He intersperses His discourses with wit and humor, story and song, parables and paraphrases, in the tradition of Jesus and Sri Ramakrishna. He clarifies His purpose, “A mother holds a child on her hip. She carries a plate of food in her left hand while she tries to feed the child with the fingers of her right hand. The child is in no mood to eat; it does not know it needs calories, that it is has to eat to be able to run about and play. The mother tries her best to persuade the child to open its mouth so that she can put in a mouthful. She sings a song. She draws the child’s attention to a person or event so that when it is off its guard, she can put in a morsel of sustaining food. Through various means, I also try my best to fill you with the spiritual sustenance you require. I am happy when you take in some small quantity.”
Every discourse of His is a model of exposition. The poetic prologue sets the tone and thrills the listener by revealing the main theme. The discourse starts with a comment on current problems, then airlifts itself into the ethereal realms of atmic bliss, which are explored in delightful detail until the precious treasure that lies hidden in man—Divinity in the form of universal love—is laid bare. Next the discourse dwells on the practical application of this balm of love to wipe out the ego and reach into the hearts of all living things. Then the discourse elaborates on the special problems and panaceas of the particular type of audience that His presence has drawn to itself—children, youth, women, men, teachers, lawyers, doctors, Rotarians, villagers, townsmen, pundits, journalists, poets, and on and on. To all of these His words confer new ideas, new inspiration, and a new awareness of each role in society. He convinces them that He is one of them—in them and of them—and that He is their comrade, counselor, and confidante. His love enthralls each one and each is bound by love in unbreakable bonds of loyalty to Him. Love is the lesson, the medium of instruction, and the consummation of His education process.
Similarly, for Bal Vikas (program for children) teachers, education is infused with love and is intended to make manifest man’s innate divinity. Baba has laid down the curriculum and the guidelines for teachers all the way from kindergarten to the university level. He has named education vikas—blossoming, expanding, manifesting, revealing. He says that the sole duty of all men is to reach out to God and become Divine, utilizing every chance and every moment. The curriculum is directed toward the realization of that duty.
Baba says, “My life is my message.” He wants each of us who has been shaped by His teaching to elaborate on that message through our own lives. We are the examples of His transmuting glory. We have to be as alert as He is in order to assuage, assist, and advance the progress of others. We have to be sweet in speech, knowledgeable in all that concerns our role in life, and soft and gentle in the face of calumny and criticism. “I am judged by your behavior, your attitudes, and your character traits,” says Baba to those who have accepted Him as their mentor.
What an enormous responsibility Baba has imposed! It is the obligation every pupil has to every teacher. Let us be conscious of this each moment of our lives, so that we will not tarnish ourselves and cause Him concern.
