Steps in the Dance of Life
The following article is excerpted from the book, Easwaramma, The Chosen Mother, about Swami’s own mother. In the book, author N. Kasturi paints a striking picture of how the Avatar taught an ordinary mother to be extraordinary.
In May 1968, every resident of Prasanthi Nilayam and most of the Ratnakaram family traveled to Bombay by bus and train to witness the inauguration of ‘Dharmakshetra’—the architectural marvel dedicated to Swami for use as His residence and headquarters of the Seva Organization operating under His guidance in Maharashtra [Western India]. This was the Mother’s first visit to the city of Bombay. She had been to Madras, New Delhi, Bangalore, Trivandrum and Hyderabad, but Bombay was the city she least liked. She was not sorry, therefore, that she couldn’t see the ‘usual sights’ and ‘beauty spots’ since the hostel where they were accommodated was, luckily for her, too far from the din and bustle of Bombay.
They were transported by bus to Dharmakshetra and other places where Swami drew hundreds of thousands to His presence. She was surprised to find that the people in Bombay, in such mammoth numbers, had imposed the vow of silence on their tongue. The vast tents were overflowing with devotees from all over India, and many of them she remembered having seen before at the Nilayam. It was all too extraordinary to believe. She could only stand and stare. But it was not long before those who caught sight of her spread the news that the Mother was amongst them. Hundreds made a beeline towards her at the Aarey Colony [where she stayed] and at Dharmakshetra. She was persuaded to speak on what she knew of Swami’s early years, with Seshama Raju, the eldest son, translating the questions into Telugu and the answers back into English.
Soon, the Mother learnt from Dr. C. G. Patel [a devotee] that Swami had agreed to visit East Africa for a few days. She was greatly upset at the thought of a journey that involved a ride in an airplane over the sea. She had stood at the seashore at Madras and Bombay and found that the sea stretched beyond the horizon at both places. And discourses by pundits had informed her that the sea was not a safe place at all to cross. When Hanuman [in the epic Ramayana] leaped across the ocean, a wicked demoness had grasped in her mortal hold the shadow that raced on the water below and halted him in mid-air. Sastris (teachers) expounding the Ramayana had described it as stock-full of mile-long snakes and sharks and whales. And Swami made no attempt to calm her fears. Indeed, He enjoyed frightening her even more than the Ramayana did. He spoke of sudden storms that would batter the plane when up in the sky. He said that Africa was a topsy-turvy world where tribes of the shortest humans lived close to the tallest. He gave her the astounding information that it would be a journey of four hours into the past; they would leave Bombay at three in the evening, having had their afternoon tea, and they would reach Africa at 11 that same day morning to join people there for lunch!
Greatly alarmed, Easwaramma pleaded that the visit to this unearthly country be cancelled. Swami told her that His task lay in just such regions. Then, gleefully adding fuel to her fear, He said, “Until just a few years ago, there were tribes there that cooked human flesh and ate it with relish!” “I know what you say is true, Swami!” Easwaramma cried. “Ravana was of that tribe. He threatened Sita that if she did not yield in two months, he would cut her to pieces and have her served for breakfast! You must cancel the trip!” Swami consoled her then, as usual, after frightening her. “Nothing can happen to me. If there was any such danger, would I be taking Indulal Shah [a devotee from Bombay] and Kasturi with me? There is an American couple coming, too, and Gogineni Venkateswara Rao [another devotee]. And no one has so far eaten Dr. Patel or any one of the thousands of Gujaratis [people from the west of India] who have been there for years!”
To frighten and then reassure her in this way had been but another of His lessons to teach her how to ‘dance’ through life’s pluses and minuses. Swami has said:
‘I am the dance Master,
I am Nataraja, Prince of dancers.
I alone know the agony of teaching you
each step in the dance of life.’
Three quarters of her mind was appeased now, but a quarter still clamored that this adventure over the seas be given up. She spoke to me and to Indulal Shah about it, but when we assured her that East Africa was a land of peace and plenty, she asked for convincing details. I told her that the greatest attraction in this country, where we would spend more than fifteen days, were its wild life sanctuaries—the opportunity of watching lions, elephants, bison, ostriches, and hippos—hundreds of them in their natural habitat. I had to regret the revelation of this fact that Swami had kept tactfully away from her attention. She had seen these animals at the Mysore zoo, and now she grew even more panicky. Her fears assumed proportions beyond my powers of allaying and assuaging. “The glass shutters on the window can be broken by a single blow. An elephant can easily overturn a vehicle,” she argued.
Even at the airport, until we took refuge in the lounge after passing through the security check, Mother kept warning us against going too near the lions or teasing African animals and men. However amusing her apprehensions, we had no doubt about their genuineness. But she soon discovered that Swami could be contacted on the telephone though miles of ocean lay between them. Her hosts, responding to her pleas, obliged her and themselves, too, by calling on Dr. Patel at Kampala during Swami’s stay in Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya. After she heard our reassuring voices twice successively from across the Arabian Sea, the waves of anxiety were quelled at last and the telephone did not ring any more. She was there at the Bombay airport, her face beaming with joy and gratitude when Swami landed from what was reverentially called His Garuda (celestial bird, Lord Vishnu’s vehicle). But the glisten of tears was still in her eyes as she remembered the hippopotamuses and lions the party had to wade through!
Mother listened with elation as we described our trip—the enthusiasm and devotion of the native Africans, the thousands who listened to the discourses at Kampala and Nairobi, the bhajans (devotional songs) in which the Africans, too, participated. She prodded us with questions and spent hours watching the photographs we had brought. She felt ashamed now at her apprehensions about the African tour and confessed that she was the victim of ignorance, ignorance about men and manners in that continent. “We women must learn more about the world,” she sighed. Swami had left Africa after addressing a Guru Poornima meeting there in the morning and had arrived in Bombay in time for the Guru Poornima celebration at Dharmakshetra in the evening. And so it happened!
The Guru heard the cry of the Mother on behalf of her daughters. Within a week of His landing on the soil of India, He inaugurated the Sri Sathya Sai Arts and Science College for Women at Anantapur, the headquarters of the district to which Puttaparthi belonged. “Swami, you have done the right thing! Women must be as well educated as men. When one animal is bold and alert and the other is cowardly and blind, how can the cart to which they are yoked move forward?” she commented. Lakshmidevamma, the headmistress of the Girls’ High School at Anantapur, told her that Swami had promised this college a year ago when He had presided over the High School Day.“I find that the girls who complete their high school have now to go to distant colleges at Tirupati and Kurnool,” He had said, “I shall, therefore, establish a college right here very soon.” And, so, the girls of Anantapur got a college, a college dedicated to the realization of the universal and constructive ideals of Sathya Sai Baba.
The Mother, it must be conceded, was the foremost pupil of the ‘son.’ She was an exemplary housewife and an unquestioning conformist in the observance of vows, vigils, and fasts declared as obligatory in the Hindu calendar. She delighted in visiting holy places, bathing in holy rivers, and offering worship at shrines. And like the high-caste women of Puttaparthi and other villages, she was loyal to the lawmakers who laid down the do’s and don’ts that should govern daily living and social relationships.
