Hide and Seek
We landed in Madras, but He was nowhere to be spied—
That slice of Orange Robe amidst the crowd—
We suspected that the fellow who tipped us off had lied.
And we scolded him in words, harsh and loud.
But he knelt and begged our pardon—
Said he couldn’t take the blame;
That Swami’s plans and movements
Were a `hide and seek’ game.
He sent us off to Whitefield
To enquire for Swami there
But warned us, this could also be,
A ‘hit and miss’ affair.
We caught the train to Bangalore.
From there to Whitefield hied—
Then we heard He’d left for Ooty
And we very nearly died.
We waited with the monkeys
Outside His Whitefield House;
We waited like a patient cat
Watching the hole of a mouse.
“He’ll be back in a couple of days,” they said,
“Or a week or two at most.”
“He was seen in Bangalore yesterday”
“Or, may be, it was the Holy Ghost.”
After waiting a week, we set out for Ooty
And got there, late, the next day;
We were greeted by someone snooty
Who said, “Swami is in Bombay”!
Disappointed, frustrated, and down at heart
We sat and bewailed our fate;
When a lady kind said, Swami was back,
And we could see Him at the gate.
But all we saw was a dome of hair
That filled the back of the car
And a radiant smile as He raised His Hand
To us who had come so far.
He’d gone off on some sudden mission—
Nobody quite knew where;
But would definitely be on the 21st
At Puttaparthi for a Festival there.
We headed for Andhra’s rocky wilds
By train, pony‑cart and bus;
And while the wheels were turning round
My mind was churning thus.
“Even if You stood before me now
A foot away in space,
I’m so annoyed, I would not deign
To look upon Your Face.”
But at Puttaparthi, our fate was the same;
And our luck, we did deplore
As we saw the white car drive out of the gate
And head for God‑knows‑where.
I stormed and fumed, I fretted and cried,
And wished I’d stayed at home and sighed,
“I’ll wait for you in my little room—
”Resplendent Lord of Parthi, please come soon.”
He came to me, soon, in a Vision,
With a Love greater than mine;
I could scarcely bear to look at Him,
His gaze was so Divine.
“Through how many ages in vain,”
He said, “Have I chased after this heart!
But now it is mine, O Dearest One,
Can anything keep it apart?”
~Anon
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, June 1977