The Lord
Ten years ago I stood face to face with the Lord. I feel as if it is just today, just now; I see so clearly that Divine form standing before me—frail, graceful, gentle, yet majestic. The face radiates something deep and intense that makes the whole being throb and choke with a sob.
I saw in Him then compassion beyond my comprehension and a universal love that made me feel so small that I felt I did not deserve to touch His feet.
Ten years have passed: they have been so rich and full for me. He has answered, one by one, all my queries. Although I have matured from a college student to a more settled status, He is the same: unchangeable and eternal.
Swami has often told us, “Do not get attached to My human form; do not be deluded into believing that this form is Swami.” Ah, it is indeed the truth. Is He not the antaryami [regulator of inner feelings and thoughts], who pervades every inch and every pinpoint of the universe? So, let me ask His forgiveness for calling that divine form beautiful. If the Vedas and the Shastras, the rishis and the saints have in their rapture called Him lovely and enchanting and beautiful, can I not in all humility call Him so?
And how graceful is Swami! So lithe, so nimble, so ethereal! He glides so lightly that if your heart is at His feet, He will glide into it. He will not crush it; he will only make it ache! How can I speak of His compassion? He treats equally the sage and the sinner, the rich and the poor, the literate and the illiterate, the simple and the celebrated. To everyone, He is so kind and tender; he will talk to us as if our matters are of great moment to Him. He will listen to our woes with rapt attention, as if He is so keen on their removal. Ah! Who can be as gentle as He? Who else can have such patience, forbearance, and love?
Parthi [village in Andhra Pradesh State, India, where Sai Baba was born and has His ashram] to Sai bhaktas [devotees] is heaven on earth. Prasanthi Nilayam [ashram in Puttaparthi] is their dear home. Once they are within the precincts of that sacred place, they are no more harassed with worldly worries or beset with obsessions of physical comfort. In this paradise on earth, there is absolute peace and joy. Everyone has the darshan [seeing and experiencing a holy person] of the supreme being to full satisfaction. That good fortune of nearness to the Lord is enough to make us feel grateful to Him for life.
Every day is an auspicious day at Parthi, for He is there! On each festival, something novel and soul-elevating takes place in Prasanthi Nilayam. While sharing in that atmosphere, one finds oneself entwined in gossamer meshes of certain deep feelings from which one cannot extricate oneself, feelings that cannot be expressed in words. It is the beginning of the restlessness, of the urge, to detach oneself from worldly bonds.
Many of us have heard His words of guidance and of love. They are jewels that one should treasure in the innermost recesses of the heart. They are the truest and simplest philosophy, the broadest and the most universal. He has often told us, “Do your duty,” “I shall look after you,” “Do not speak ill of others; first, correct yourself,” “There is nothing like courage for giving you success,” “Go ahead! Why do you fear when I am here?” “Be gentle, modest and loving,” “Serve men, for it is like serving the Lord Himself,” “Be true to yourself first.” These are the rain drops, which, if only we open our hearts like oysters, will turn into priceless pearls. Sathya [truth], dharma [righteousness], shanti [peace], and prema [love], this is His message. “In every walk, of life in everything you do, adhere to these,” says our Swami.
It is easy to go into emotional ecstasies about Him. I must confess I have been a miserable failure in adhering to His teachings. Deep down within me, there is a feeble protest—how dare I mention it? Yet I shall—I feel that the greatest sathya, dharma, shanti, and prema is—to sit at His feet.
How dare I be so presumptuous? How dare I presume that I can sit at His feet, so holy and so sacred? At this hour of agony, I only turn to Him. “Swami, forgive me! Forgive this erring child. Let me cry my heart out at Thy feet. Purify me, lest my tears stain Thy Divine feet. I am a castoff reed; please, O please accept it and play on it Thy melodious soul stirring tune. Ah! Make it sing, make it throb, make it live forever and ever.”
~Jaya Gopinath
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, Nov. 1960
