See Me in All and Serve Me 

Geetha Mohan Ram literally grew up in Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba’s lap since she was born into a family that has had very close contact with Him.  As a child, Geetha  used to travel in the same car with Swami when her father brought Him to Bangalore from Puttaparthi. Swami and her father sat in the back seat, while her brother drove the car and Geetha sat  in the passenger seat. Swami would tell her, “Geetha, your father does not like to speak, your brother has to concentrate and drive, so you are the only witness to what I have to say. I give you the responsibility of sharing what you hear here.” This upadesh (teaching) started when she was about eight years old and continued until she was 16.

Over the years, she was asked many times to speak in public about her experiences with Swami, but she would refuse, saying that she did not have Bhagavan’s permission to speak. In 1996, there was a Sai retreat in America to which eminent speakers had been invited. Geetha was also asked, but again she refused for the same reason. Subsequently, in the course of a conversation with her father, she mentioned that she had been asked to speak at the retreat. Since he did not like discussing personal issues, Dr. Padmanabhan did not bring it up with Bhagavan. A couple of days later, Swami Himself said, “Geetha is a very confused girl. What is this confusion about speaking about Me? I do not understand why she cannot speak.” That is how she got her permission from Bhagavan. These are excerpts from her talk on September 20, 2002, at Brent Town Hall, London.

In my mind, as the last song was being sung, was this thought: Here I am in front of such a large audience and I still do not know what I am going to say! Just then the bhajan [devotional song] finished with the line: “Where are You, Bhagavan? We look for You everywhere, but You are in our faith.” I think that is the theme Swami wants me to develop today.

The most wonderful and profound experience of my life has been to see Swami ever present and ever responsive to faith and devotion. I have the good fortune of being born into a family that is close to Bhagavan and the added good luck of being born at the right time. When people ask me what we have done to be so close to Swami, I always say that it was just the right timing.

One morning some years ago in Puttaparthi, Swami called my family into the interview room. He told my husband and me to immigrate to America with our two young sons.  We agreed immediately, as we have always done with Swami’s directions.  My husband did not know if he would get a job, and we had no idea where we would stay.

Just before we left, Swami called us again. With tears in my eyes, I asked Him why He was sending us away. It was more difficult to leave Him than to leave my parents. I felt I had done something wrong and that was why He was sending me so far from His physical presence. He said, “You have seen Me in this little frame all your life. It is time to see Me in the cosmic form. See Me in everyone, in every devotee that is across the ocean.” I understood Him intellectually, but I experienced it only after I came here.

I always used to wonder whether I was close to Swami because I was born in the right family at the right time, or if the person sitting way back in the darshan hall could also experience Him in the same way as I did. Two years ago, Swami answered my question when my husband and I went to see a Broadway musical in New York. We had tried a number of times to get tickets, but were unsuccessful until this particular day. Incidentally, it happened to be our wedding anniversary.

We went to New York, checked into a hotel, changed, and set off for the theatre. During intermission I went to use the rest room, but it was very crowded. I asked one of the attendants if there was another cloakroom and was directed to a little one along a long hallway. While I was washing my hands, a Hispanic lady who was cleaning the area greeted me. She looked at my Indian dress and very hesitantly asked, “You are Indian?” I said that I was. Suddenly she said, “Do you know Sai Baba?” I said, “Yes, I know Him,” and I asked her how she knew of Him.

She said, “I do not know Him. I just saw Him in a dream and He said He was Sai Baba. Can I tell you something personal?” I said, “Certainly. I will be glad to help if I can.” She said, “I have a daughter who is very sick. Both her kidneys have failed, and I do not have the money for the surgery she needs. I have been praying to Jesus to help me. Three days ago I had a dream of Sai Baba. He said that I would see an Indian lady soon and that she would give me some white powder for my daughter. So, for the past three days I have been looking for an Indian lady, and I had not seen a single one until today. This is my last day of work and I was just wondering if it was all a strange dream. Then you walked into the cloakroom.” This was in December.

In Puttaparthi, the previous June, Swami had given me materialized vibhuti [sacred ash] in the interview room. I had wrapped it in a piece of paper, put it in my purse, and forgotten all about it. The moment she mentioned “the white powder,” I remembered the vibhuti and gave it to her. She said she was Christian, not Hindu. I told her that it did not matter and that she should give her daughter the vibhuti.

I came back to the theatre and told my husband about the incident, wondering what amazing thing would happen to the child. On our next trip to Puttaparthi a year and half later, when I was in the interview room Swami told me that the girl was all right. It was the faith of this woman, whether she prayed to Jesus or to Swami, that drew His response, for He lives in our faith and responds to that faith.

An old aunt of mine lived in Puttaparthi. She had deep faith in Swami as she had been with Him since He was five years old. When she needed her eyes checked, Swami sent her to us in Bangalore so that we could take her to an ophthalmologist. She was told that she needed an operation on her eyes. She insisted that she had to return to Puttaparthi to get Swami’s blessings before she would agree to the surgery. In those days it took about 11 hours to reach Parthi, so my father refused to listen to her protests.

One day my parents had gone out, and this lady started complaining to me. As she was talking, the telephone rang. It was Swami. He said, “Geetha, is the old lady complaining? Give her the phone.” I gave her the phone and she immediately launched into a tirade of complaints—‘the doctor wants to operate;’ ‘Padmanabhan refuses to bring me to see You;’ ‘I want your blessings;’ and so on. Swami said His blessings were with her and she could undergo the operation without any fear. She said, “No, Swami, it is not enough that You bless me. I want Your vibhuti.” So Swami asked her to give the phone back to me.

When I took the receiver, Swami asked me to find a piece of paper. He then instructed me to put the receiver on the newspaper, and as I watched in disbelief, a big mound of vibhuti spewed through the receiver. You can imagine my shock. I picked up the phone and He asked me very sweetly, “Did you get it?” I said “Yes Swami.” He asked me to fold the paper and give it to the old lady with His blessings. I did as He asked—you can imagine the excitement in our house that night.

I was about nine years old then. When the excitement died down, I began to think of Swami in a different light. Until then He was always the wonderful figure who came to our house and gave us chocolates, or the Swami who would walk into the kitchen and ask my mother for a hurried cup of coffee.

But this Swami was not the little frame that came and played chutes and ladders with us, but the omnipresent Lord who could respond to the sincere prayer of an infirm old lady. I realized that there was more to Swami than chocolates and fun. I started to think—what does it mean? Is it enough to see, hear, and read about miracles or do we have to do something more? Swami has always said that it is wonderful that you hear Me and see Me, but unless you emulate Me in your life, all the time that you have spent with Me and I with you is a waste.

Last year when we were in Puttaparthi for my father’s 80th birthday, I told Swami that we were stopping in London on our way to America. He said, “Very happy! Very happy!” My father asked Him what message he should convey to the people there. Swami said, “Tell them that each of their lives has to become My message.” How can we possibly do that? We all try; sometimes we succeed and sometimes we do not, but our loving Swami is always there forgiving us and helping us move forward.

I have twin sons. When they were young, they would both fight to sit in the front seat of the car when we went out. Eventually I got tired of their arguing, and told them that since the front seat was reserved for Swami, they had to sit in the back. About five years old then, they believed me and stopped arguing. Two years later when we visited Puttaparthi, Swami spoke to me in the darshan line, asking when I had arrived and how my family was. He walked a few steps away, then turned back and said, “If I am supposed to be sitting in the front seat of your car, how come there are so many audio tapes on it?”

I had forgotten His omnipresence again. If I truly believed what I had told the children, would I put audio cassettes on the seat meant for Swami? I had used Swami’s name just to end an argument. But Swami very sweetly and compassionately reminded me that my thoughts, words, and actions were not in harmony. When they are not in harmony, we will not feel His presence or see Him or hear Him. Unless our thoughts, words and actions are in harmony, unless our faith and devotion are deep and we truly believe that He is there with us, the quality of our lives will not change.

My grandfather started Akhanda bhajans (continuous devotional singing for 24 hours) in 1945, and for the next 25 years they were a family celebration. It was only in 1970 that Swami said this should become a global event. Swami would come and stay with us during that time each year, overseeing all the preparations. One particular time, Swami was sitting with us when the telephone rang right next to Him. Swami picked it up and said sweetly, “Dr. Padmanabhan’s residence.” The person on the other end did not realize whom he was speaking with and asked for my father. Swami gave the phone to my father and asked him to go to the next room to talk.

When my father left the room, Swami smilingly said to the rest of us that the person who just called had a toothache. The pain really was not too bad, but he was trying to escape attending his wife’s relative’s wedding. So he was exaggerating the pain for his wife’s benefit. We all laughed. Swami said that if we did not believe Him we could check with my father when he came back. As my father reentered the room after the phone call, Swami very innocently asked, “Padmanabh, who was it?” My father said, “Swami, it was a patient who had a bad toothache and he wanted some medicine because he has to go to a wedding tomorrow.” Swami triumphantly smiled and said, “See I told you—he is lying to the doctor and he is lying to the wife. Is this the way one should lead one’s life? There is no harmony in thought, word, and deed, but I am a witness to all.”

The feeling that Swami is constantly with me is tremendously enriching because I always feel that there is continuous scope for learning and self-improvement. We all complain that we cannot hear or see Swami, but He says that we cannot complain about the magnet because it is the iron filings that are rusted. As we begin to purify ourselves, we will automatically start getting attracted to Him. We fail to do this, and then we complain that He does not come close.

In June 2000, I had gone to see Him and He asked me if I was coming for the 75^th birthday celebrations. I told Him that as I had taken on the responsibility of SSE coordinator for our Sai Center that year and had the task of preparing the SSE children for Swami’s birthday celebrations, it would be unfair for me to leave. He said, “No, no, do your duty and I will be with you for your grand celebrations.”

On the evening of November 22nd, I went to an ATM machine to withdraw some money. As I am quite short, I could not reach the panel without opening the car door. As I opened my door and reached out, a man suddenly opened the back door of the car and jumped in. He held a large knife to my neck and shouted at me to drive. I told him that I had to close the door of the car first. I gently closed the door and placed my left hand on a picture of Swami that we had stuck on the dashboard.

Suddenly two police cars drove up and blocked the exits from the ATM. The police got out and started to walk toward my car but stopped when they saw that the man had a knife to my throat. They did not want to provoke him into violence. I had my hand on the picture and I did not pray, but I spoke to the man gently and asked him why he was doing this. I reasoned with him for a while and told him that even if he were to kill me, he would not be able to get away as the police had surrounded us. That act would only result in even more serious consequences for him. I asked him to give himself up. He asked me why I was not scared. I told him that as I was in his control I could not do much, and there was nothing to be gained by fear. I again asked him to give himself up. There was a short silence and eventually he said, “Ok.”

He climbed out of my car and put his hands up. The police pounced on him, handcuffed him, and threw him into the back of the police car. I felt very guilty as though I had betrayed him. The police came and questioned me and asked me to come to the station to lodge a formal complaint. I asked them if the culprit had enough complaints against him to put him behind bars and they said that he did. I replied that I did not want to add to his troubles and drove home.

That night I told my husband that when I was talking to the assailant, my tongue was saying one thing and my mind was thinking something entirely different. Six months later the Vice Chancellor from Sathya Sai University came to our center. As we were sitting and talking, he suddenly said, “Oh! You are the person who was attacked in the car? Swami was describing the whole incident to the college boys one evening. Finally He said, “While all this was going on, this crazy girl was thinking, ‘I have spent 40 years at Swami’s feet and if at this time I do not believe that Swami is with me, then I have wasted my time and Swami’s time, too.’ Then she thought of how Swami says that this body is very temporary. ‘We discard it like an old shirt when our time is up, so why should I cry if I have to die?’” These were the exact thoughts that I had described to my husband that night.

This is the wonderful, omnipresent, omniscient Swami, who responded even when I did not call Him. I only had my thumb on His picture. If we place our utmost faith in Him, He always comes to us, protects us, helps us. When He enters our lives, we cannot waste His time. We have to transform ourselves into better people, become His messengers and spread His message by the way we live.