A Stream Immortalized
Two Rover vans and an omnibus were speeding along the road that runs through the Wild Life Sanctuary on the border of Mysore State [southern India], toward a stream that marks its boundary with Tamil Nadu. Sitting behind Baba in the leading vehicle, I could see the evening sun, flushed with excitement, racing toward the South, trying to maintain the lead he already had, anxious to reach the stream earlier than us. For, it was Mahashivaratri, the day that millions acclaim as holy, especially for witnessing the glory of Baba as Shiva.
About a mile from the stream, a `tracker,’ engaged in searching for trails of wild life, held out his hand from the side of the lonely road; we stopped and he told us excitedly that a herd of elephants, about a dozen in number, was sighted a little while ago near the site where the party and Baba were to alight! So the good news that Baba had decided to spend the auspicious evening at the Kekkanahalla riverbed, near the Bandipur sanctuary, had spread in the jungle, I surmised.
As soon as Baba got down from the van, we and the large group of students from the Sri Sathya Sai Arts and Science College, Brindavan, whom Baba had specially brought with Him, gathered round Him, for, in His presence, some dramatic and divine event, can happen any moment, anywhere. And sure enough, it did! Baba broke a short length off from a dry stalk of jungle grass; He clove the top with His fingernail and artfully made a tiny cross out of it, peeling its skin to bind the pieces together. Then, calling Dr. Hislop near Him, He blew His breath on it. Lo and behold! Right before our wondering eyes, it became a pretty big wooden crucifix, with a silver figure of Christ nailed on it, complete with the crown of thorns and the emaciated agony‑torn Body! “This wood is the wood of the original Cross,” Baba declared, as He placed it in the trembling hands of Dr. Hislop. The American devotee could scarce hold back his homage of tears.
When we sat on the small patch of sand on the bed of the forest stream, it was already dark. For, the sun who had come in as a gate‑crasher to witness the glory, had, in his anxiety to escape reprimands, covered himself completely with a thick black blanket. Baba had brought with Him two van‑loads of devotees, and a bus full of college boys. And, where were the elephants? No one was interested to inquire. All attention was fixed on Baba. Perhaps they had cleverly camouflaged themselves behind the heaps of rock that jutted between the teak trees on the riverbanks and were enjoying the darshan [sight of a holy person].
There was just enough space for the party to sit three deep in a circle, facing Baba. Bhajans [devotional songs] brought the stars out over our heads! Poor dears! They were scanning the earth from their vantage points to catch a glimpse of Baba on this holy day; they strained their eyes to examine whether He was at Prasanthi Nilayam, or Bhagyanagar, or Brindavan, for, there were thousands singing bhajans expectantly in those places. When they heard the music rising from Kekkanahalla and saw the Sai halo of love, their [the stars] eyes twinkled with delight, as they gathered with their kith and kin.
I had to sit on a cinder mound on the circumference, a heap that the ranger ascribed to a funeral pyre. “Wonderful!” I exclaimed within myself. “Shiva, who delights on the cremation ground, is here this day. I am, indeed, fortunate,” I whispered into his ear.
Baba patted the sand before Him. Earth responded with an audible echo! Someone said, it was due to the placement of the rocks; but it meant something else to us. It added to the mystery, sizzling in the air. He drew a largish design on the sand, heaped a few handfuls of sand over it, and joking that ‘It’ (?) was already there, He put His hand into the heap and brought out a magnificently translucent Linga [symbol of Godhead]! “From Kailas! The Linga worship is just over at that place. See, the sandal paste applied is still wet. The kumkum [vermillion powder] dot is still on the Linga,” Baba said.
Yes. The Crystal Linga—with a vertical base five inches high, horizontal base eight inches long and three inches thick, and the cylindrical Linga idol four inches tall—was unique in artistic charm, liturgical value, and philosophical significance. Baba started explaining the value, the significance, and the uniqueness. Even while talking, His fingers drew another design, a smaller one, and heaped a little pile of sand over it. This time, He made a small silver Linga, and gave it to the aged Raja Mata of Sirohi, for worship.
The fingers were at work again. One could see them clearly, for, a petromax [kerosene] lamp was near and the headlights of the three vehicles were trained to illumine the spot. He drew a roundish line and marked two dots on its top. I wondered what they could be for. Was it a fruit, with a twin stalk? Or, the two eyes on a face? Or a moon with two stars? The sand heap was formed, the hand brought out a silver vessel of exquisite artistry, with a screwed lid that could be held by a handle fixed on the lid!
Baba unscrewed the lid; the fragrance was heavenly. ‘Amrita [divine nectar]!’ Baba said. We gasped in astonishment at this rare gift of His grace. While we sang bhajans to Shiva, whose grace we were witnessing, Baba poured a spoonful of the nectar on the tongue of everyone present, including the officers in charge of Forest Conservation and Wild Life Preservation, their family members, the mahouts, the trackers, and a few forest-dwelling tribesmen. When He sat down, we noticed that the vessel was as full as ever!
Then Baba created from the sand heap another concretized design, a silver image of Shirdi Sai, and gave it to a devotee, the Inspector General of Police of Mysore State, Mr. Kagal, for worship in his domestic shrine. “What a variety of things this stream can yield!” Baba said in fun. All sang a few more bhajans; Baba, too, sang a few for our guidance. Then, Baba rose.
Returning to the bungalow at Bandipur, bhajan was held until near midnight. Baba gave darshan to all from the porch from where He also sang a few Namavalis [list of the names of God]. He gave sweets to all as a token of His grace. Returning to Brindavan on Sunday by dusk, Baba blessed the thousands who celebrated Shivaratri there with a discourse on Monday evening, and the gift of vibhuti [holy ash] afterward.
Later that night, Baba called in the college boys who had been privileged to witness the manifestations at Kekkanahalla, besides a few other devotees, into the Brindavan Residence. He brought the crystal and silver lingams, and amrita vessel still full, and while bhajan was on, He went through the rite of ceremonially sanctifying them through Vedic rites, so that faith in the scriptures might develop in them. Vedic recitation and the bhajan added to the auspiciousness of the hour. A chalice of milk was ceremoniously touched by everyone as a symbol of their sharing in the ritual.
Baba waved His hand and created a silver vessel with a screwed-in lid, containing as He declared, “Holy water from the source spring of the River Ganga, and from the Manasa-sarovar [fresh water lake in Tibet] beyond the Himalayas!” The sacred waters were mixed with the milk, and when Baba held the chalice over the Lingams, pouring the contents over the symbols of Shiva in a continuous stream, He graciously allowed every one assembled, one after another, to hold the same vessel and share in the divine ritual.
The thrill that each one experienced was ecstatic and elevating. Later, Baba gave each a spoonful of the sacred Abhisheka Teertha, the waters poured on the Linga, and also of the amrita He had materialized on Shivaratri day.
Of the trinity, Shiva is acclaimed by the sages of India as the very embodiment of grace and of never‑failing compassion. He is, they say, easily propitiated by seekers. Truly, we had the proof of the authenticity of that description during the Shivaratri days.
~Late Sri Kasturi
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, April 1973
