The White Sari
Rosa Raveneau met Sai Baba in 1969 and has been an ardent devotee ever since. She worked in public health for 10 years and 27 years in Spanish television.
In August 2000 I went to India for the fourth time, as I had the opportunity to be part of the musical group Sai Lahari that had prepared a musical presentation for Swami.
Previously the group had received permission from Swami to present this musical program. But as we all know, nothing is completely secure until Swami gives the final yes, and this happens almost always a day before the presentation.
Before traveling I had to buy new glasses because I had lost the one pair that I had. In case we were to sing to Swami, I wanted to see Swami‘s expression during each song that we would sing to Him.
Ever since our group had arrived in India, we practiced daily. While we were there, several presentations by diverse groups took place in Swami’s presence. This time I realized that after each presentation, Swami personally gave a dhoti [cloth for men] to every man, and a sari [garment worn by women] to each woman. I watched Him as He would toss the saris and dhotis into the hands of each member of the group.
One day when He was giving the saris to the women, in my mind I began to speak to Him and I said, “Swami, in my culture the form in which You deliver the sari shows lack of respect. If You allow us to perform for You, and You decide to give us a sari, please do not throw the sari, give it to me in my hands and in that way allow me to touch Your hands.”
“Ah! And another thing Swami, I would like to receive a white sari, because from the first time that I came to see You, I have always worn white and I would like You to allow me to follow with this custom.” In my culture, white is synonymous with purity and my form of expressing respect to Swami is using white clothes.
Luckily, the day arrived when Swami gave the yes to our group. The presentation was to take place on the following day. Next morning we were allowed to practice in the Poornachandra auditorium. Before beginning our practice, I put on my glasses, and since I knew where Swami would be seated, I focused in that direction. Then soon we began to practice, and as I tried to read the first devotional song, I had a great surprise! I could not read the words of the songs (I have myopia, and my glasses were for distance). The letters were blurred, but I could see clearly at the distant spot where Swami would sit.
I tried moving the lyrics so I could read them, but this was a very comic situation because I had to move away the lyrics of each song to different distances according to the size of the letter of each song, sometimes eight inches, other times 12 inches, and other times 16 inches. So now I had to decide whether or not to use my glasses. If I used the glasses, I could not sing the songs but I could see Swami’s expressions. If I did not use the glasses, I could sing all the songs but I could not see Swami’s expressions.
This was my dilemma. I decided that I was going to watch Swami and only sing the songs that I knew from memory, maybe two or three of the 10 or 12 songs in the program. I felt very badly, but then I felt better because I was going to see Swami’s expressions clearly throughout our presentation.
In the afternoon, minutes before our presentation, Swami entered the stage from the back. The curtains were down and He began to walk around all of us. He spoke to some and He looked deeply into some of our eyes with much love. It was like when a mother is observing her children, counting them so none is missed. After He finished, He wished us good luck and He went to the stairs to go down to the hall.
The curtain rose and our presentation began. From the first bhajan, I knew the first few lines from memory, so I sang these looking at Swami. I saw Him clearly, completely focused on the group. Then unconsciously I returned my glance to the book because I did not know the next lines by memory. To my surprise I could read the lyrics clearly. We ended the first song, and then I turned the page and I could read clearly and also watch Swami clearly. My heart was full of emotion, I could not believe that my eyes became bifocal in an instant; I looked at Swami and I thanked Him with all my soul. (I asked myself, Swami how do You do it?) I continued singing with my heart full of love and joy. And as I sang, I experienced His omnipotence together with His love.
When we finished the presentation, I looked at Swami. Then I looked at the book and all I saw was a blur. Swami rose and He went to the stairs that took Him to the stage. He came up the stairs and approached the group. The men and the women began to take padnamaskar [touching the feet]. I was far enough from Swami to see all that was happening. He began to toss the dhotis to the men and saris to the women. Four of the women had not received a sari yet. Swami began to approach us. I was captivated in watching what was happening.
He continued tossing the saris until finally the only one who had not received a sari was me. He approached me, and when He was about 10 feet away, my heart began to pound rapidly. As I realized that Swami was approaching me, I began to take steps toward Him, and when we were about two feet apart He placed the sari in His two hands and offered it to me. I placed my hands underneath His and took the sari. In that very moment when I touched His delicate hands, what came to my mind was the dialogue that I had had earlier about the customs of my country.
One more time His omniscience became clear to me. With my heart full of joy and without thinking, I knelt down before Him. This is the way with which I learned to express reverence to God: the omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent God whom I venerated during my elementary and secondary school years. My eyes were filled with tears. These were surely tears of joy. I had not only seen Him and listened to His voice, but this time I had touched the Avatar.
I looked at the sari; it was white with a violet color outline. I felt completely captivated by His love and compassion. Some years later I took the violet color as a sign from Him to put some color into my white attire.
Baba says, “I have come to give you what you want so you will come to want what I have come to give.”
In the process of writing this experience, I am more aware that the love and respect that I felt for Swami at that time is the same love and respect that I need to offer continuously to everybody and everything since there is no person or place without divinity. Sometimes this does not happen easily, but I know that this is a process, and I will continue working on myself.
Thank You Swami!
~Rosa Raveneau
Sunnyside, New York, USA
