It is not Emptiness but a Super Cosmic Fullness

This article is excerpted from musings by Prof. G. Venkataraman, eminent scientist and former Vice Chancellor of Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning, broadcast by Sai Radio on April 29, 2011.

Dear listener, this is a talk that I never thought or dreamt I would ever have to give. In a sense, the events of the last one month or so have gone by like a surrealistic experience, and suddenly I feel bewildered. More explicitly I am wondering, as perhaps many listeners are, whether the world as it existed before 28th March was real, or the world as it appears today without that beautiful form is real, the earlier experience being just a dream. Inevitably, this reminds me of a story that Swami used to narrate occasionally, back in the old days.

The story goes like this: One evening Emperor Janaka’s Queen asks him to freshen up for dinner. Janaka overcome by exhaustion slumps into a chair and dozes off. During his nap, he has a disturbing dream and wakes up with a start. As he looks around, the scene is very different from what he was seeing just moments ago—there was no forest, no tiger chasing him, etc. Puzzled He begins to mutter, “Was that real, or is this real?” The Queen reminds the Emperor about dinner but he continues to remain in stupor, constantly repeating the same question.

Palace medics are summoned, but they are unable to help. Ultimately, the court guru, sage Vasishta, is called. Janaka is still asking the same question. With a smile on his face the sage places his hand on Janaka’s shoulder and gently observes, “O king, neither is real; you alone are!” Vasishta was, of course, referring to the atma [soul] within, dismissing what is experienced both in the waking as well as in the dream state as illusory. In other words, Vasishta was telling Janaka that what is real lies beyond the experience of the senses and the thoughts of the mind, both of which are transient. Alas, we have no Sage Vasishta to guide us out of our confusion that we face today.

For me personally it all started with every evening during February and a good part of March of this year. I along with a couple of others would go for darshan a little after 6 p.m. or so and wait patiently while the boys sang bhajans vigorously till Swami came anytime after 7 p.m.to as late as 8.15 p.m. When Swami came out the tempo of singing would become really charged. For His part, Swami would just sit there quietly, enjoying the bhajans, making everyone in the vast Sai Kulwant Hall forget time. Bhagavan did have the magical power to make time disappear and lose meaning in His presence.

Finally around maybe 9 p.m., sometimes even later, Swami would take arati, linger for a while, raise both His hands in loving benediction, and slowly leave. For over a year Bhagavan came in a mobile chair [wheel chair] and would leave the same way. However, the routine began to change almost imperceptibly. He would still come using the chair but return using the Porte-chair-car. Still later, He started coming by car and returning the same way. Toward the end on some days, the car would come to the porch and halt, after which arati would be offered almost immediately, without Swami even coming out of the car, [and then] He would return [to His home, Yajur Mandir]. There were some days when a message came from Yajur Mandir and arati was given to the chair.

On Saturday evening, March 27, 2011, the day before Swami was admitted to the hospital, arati was given early, after which the current Vice Chancellor Prof. Prasad, former Vice Chancellor Prof. Pandit, and I went to Swami’s residence as we usually did. We were told Swami was not well, that two doctors whom Swami lately permitted to attend on Him were upstairs with Swami and that some monitoring equipment was being brought to keep a watch on His health condition.

At that time, no one had the slightest indication whatsoever that a crisis was fast approaching. Night passed and when I checked next morning, I was told that Swami had rested and spent an uneventful night. Around 3 o’clock or so in the afternoon, Prof. Pandit called me to say that an ambulance had come to Swami’s residence—Yajur Mandir. It seemed as if Swami was being taken to the hospital, and so we both rushed there. Even though we left a bit later, our car almost caught up with the ambulance, and we managed to be there when Swami was helped out of the ambulance at the entrance to the hospital. Although Swami went by an ambulance, He was actually on a wheel chair and not on a stretcher as I had imagined.

Prof. Pandit, who was by my side all the time, tells me that Swami gave him a gentle smile. Little did he know that that smile was going to become his most treasured memory. Swami’s wheel chair was whisked away and soon He disappeared from sight. Meanwhile, Prof. Pandit and I both were shown to a room upstairs, and we waited silently and anxiously while the clock kept ticking.

One hour passed and we became somewhat restless. We came out and a surgeon standing at the end of the long corridor signaled us to join him and told us that Swami was undergoing a procedure in the cardiac catheterization lab, which was further down the corridor.

Shortly thereafter, we saw the Chief Nurse of the Hospital giving strict instructions to the staff nearby. It looked like Swami was ready to be moved from the catheter lab to the special ICU, located across the corridor. Roughly about two hours after Swami arrived at the hospital, we saw a hospital bed on wheels come out of the cath lab with a lot of staff in surgical dress walking along with the bed, one person holding a drip bottle while others wheeled along the monitoring equipment to which Swami had been connected. It seemed as if the crisis had been brought under control and everything was looking good, at least for the moment. Swami having been transferred to the ICU, things began to settle down and we started getting a clearer picture of what actually happened.

Apparently, Swami’s heartbeat had become irregular and He needed a pacemaker implantation. That was why He had been taken to the Hospital, and the pacemaker duly installed. Thousands of people the world over walk around with pacemakers, and if you saw them you would never be aware of it. We thus thought, ‘OK, Swami now has a pacemaker and everything would be fine in a few days. After that He would be back in Yajur Mandir, and maybe after resting for a few days life would return to normal, possibly with a revised schedule to minimize physical strain to Swami.’

By around 7 or maybe 7:30 p.m. or so, Prof. Pandit and I returned to the Ashram. All this, I remind you once more, happened on the evening of 28th March. Next morning, I checked with one of the people who had access to minute-by-minute status of Swami’s health, and I was told that the night seemed to have gone off well. Around 2 p.m. or so, on 29th March, Prof. Pandit called me to say there was hyper activity in the hospital and Swami’s condition was causing anxiety. This scared me and we rushed to the hospital. On our way to the hospital, Prof. Pandit and I saw a helicopter parked in the Sri Sathya Sai Airport and that alarmed us further.

When we reached the hospital, Dr. Safaya, the Director, showed us a place where we could wait. In a short while we saw Swami being whisked into the lab, the trolley-bed being rolled along and guided by a battery of hospital attendants and doctors in surgical gowns. Though we were close, it was not possible to see Swami, there were so many doctors walking along with and around the trolley-bed. The doors of the lab were shut and we waited.

After about 40 minutes or so, the two specialist doctors who had come by helicopter from Bangalore came out looking very confident that they had done well and were ready to leave. A couple of minutes later, I saw the trolley-bed being moved back to the ICU. This time I was, thanks to Dr. Safaya, able to catch a momentary glimpse of Bhagavan’s face from about a couple of feet away; the rest of the body was of course covered by hospital sheet. That was the last time I saw Swami before He shed His mortal coil. Being under the influence of sedatives, His eyes were closed. That was no doubt to be expected; yet that sight was like a huge electric shock, considering that until not so long ago, on many days I would find Swami’s face beaming with an indescribable glow around 8:30 p.m. after a long and tiring day.

So why did they take Swami to the cath lab and what did they do there? And what about the doctors who had flown in from Bangalore? I got all the answers about two hours later from Dr. Safaya. Looking quite tired but somewhat relieved, he dropped into a chair in the corridor next to Prof. Pandit and me and said, “Hey! You fellows are drinking tea! What about me?” We were sipping some tea from a paper cup provided by a kind soul doing seva there. We signaled to him to give a cup of tea to Dr. Safaya. After taking a few much-needed sips, Dr. Safaya told us that while Swami heart was not damaged, it was weak and the pumping action inadequate. The doctors from Bangalore had therefore inserted what was known as a balloon pump. This would considerably lessen the burden on the heart since the balloon pump would take care of most of the pumping.

About six days later, the balloon pump was withdrawn. However, the procedure had to be done with enormous care and ever so slowly. For us anxious to hear the news that the pump had been safely withdrawn, it was a long wait, maybe ten hours, I cannot remember exactly how many. Shortly thereafter when Dr. Safaya came out he looked greatly relieved. He even smiled a bit and said to me, “Now He is on His own,” meaning that Swami’s heart was now functioning satisfactorily without any external assistance what-so-ever. Obviously, that was great news, worth waiting for.

At that time everyone was quite hopeful, but soon started a rollercoaster ride of sorts. It turns out—a specialist doctor explained to me—that beyond a certain age, when the heart gets affected, it impacts other organs also, most often the lungs and the kidneys. If earlier the heart had to be given help from outside, it was now the turn of these two vital organs to receive such assistance.

Although the kidney and the lungs were two organs that were often in the news—as Dr. Narendra Reddy explained during the conversation that I had with him that was broadcast by Radio Sai—all organs had to be watched carefully. Thus it was that all kinds of experts had to be called in, some from within the hospital itself, some from other hospitals in the country, and some even from America.

Medically, the various parameters were sort of holding on with minor fluctuations here and there maybe; however, all this needed strong support from external systems. Slowly, the organs started showing signs that they might not be able to come back to normal; however, one could not be sure either. After all this was not a just a mortal patient but Swami, and almost everyone including the doctors had the faith that Swami would defy all the medical books and research papers written by man and bounce back.

In fact, one day I asked Dr. Safaya, “Doctor, how long would a normal patient and with a body age same as Swami have lasted with this multiple organ problem?” The doctor’s reply was short, “Certainly not this long,” which of course enormously boosted my confidence.

The days passed while medical anxiety slowly began to mount silently. At the same time the, confidence that Swami would not leave us also soared. After all, everyone including myself said, “Just look at how many thousands if not millions are praying all over the world! There are Christians praying in Madras. There are Sikhs praying in Delhi, and there are the villagers of Puttaparthi who are praying for their own Swami. Bhagavan has, therefore, no choice but to sit up, walk away from His bed, freshen up, and come out, exactly as He did at the time of the famous Goa appendicitis leela.”

Alas, that was not to be. There is absolutely no doubt that Swami could have done all that and more. However, He chose not to. He had on many occasions given hints, both privately and even publicly, that He could go anytime He chose to, overriding all His earlier pronouncements. Further, He has explained clearly in many of His discourses that while the Avatar is an incarnation of God and comes down with His full compliment of Divine powers when He manifests as a Poorna Avatar as it was in this case, He would, at the same time, not only respect the Laws of Nature as ordained by Him when it came to His own body, but also bow to time, of which He was always the Absolute Master. Thus, it was that Swami would sometimes get tired, catch a cold, get fever, etc. and He took great care to explain, not all His body ailments were due to His taking on the sufferings of others.

Around 7:30 on the morning of April 24, I received a phone call from a close friend who whispered, “Swami is in a critical condition.” However, I was not alarmed since my confidence that Swami would go to the very edge and bounce back miraculously had soared to new heights.

Twenty minutes later, I got another call. This was from one of the trustees who began. “Sad news. Swami passed away at 7.40 this morning. Now this is what we would like you to do…” And went on to give me my first assignment in the world where the Light was there but in a passive form, having risen to shine and guide from above. It was a silent signal that the time had finally come for all of us to look for Bhagavan beyond the form for instructions and guidance, which then had to be followed meticulously. Along the line, we had to work harmoniously with each other, smashing every ego-built barrier. In short, we had to become one family, united under God, and working for common good. It was not enough to merely chant “May peace prevail in all the worlds,” it was now our job to make that happen. The examination bell had rung and God our coach as well as teacher had now become the invigilator!

Oh yes, for a while we would all cry and swear we cannot live without Swami and so on. But that has happened before, several times in fact, after Rama, after Krishna, and after Shirdi Sai. But soon we must wake up to our new responsibilities, realizing that it is for this test that Swami had been physically preparing us in diverse ways.

Swami Vivekananda is reported to have said, “Death of a near one always makes everybody very philosophical. However, that mood wears off in three days or even less, after which it is business as usual.” That comment applies in the case of the death of an ordinary mortal. The present situation is totally different since there is no question of death. Swami has merely shed the form to exclusively remain formless, playing a different and subtler role. Rising to the occasion, we need to, as Swami Himself had said in many discourses, “Wake up, arise, listen to the call of the Divine Master, and accept our new responsibility.” The world is still out there, offering us more opportunities for service than ever before; all that is needed is to rise to the occasion.

I would like to close this talk with a brief recall of what Swami once said while bringing His Divine discourse to an end. I do not recall the occasion, but I do remember His message because of its depth, power, and also for another reason that I shall mention shortly. Swami said in a powerful voice [and this is a paraphrase]. Dear students! When you sing bhajans here, don’t imagine that they would impact only the people currently assembled here in the Sai Kulwant Hall. True, the sound waves coming from the various loud speakers would be heard only by the devotees here. True those sound waves would also be heard throughout the ashram. However, besides these sound waves, subtle waves are also generated. You cannot see them and, in fact, you do not even know about them. They are ripples in the Ocean of Consciousness. Those ripples can travel not only all over this planet but also to the very edge of the physical Universe and beyond. They will never dampen nor dissipate but remain forever. They would penetrate everywhere, including the pillars, the structures, and whatever you see around here. Indeed, the vibrations from every bhajan that you sing would remain embedded in them forever. Further, every day, there would be fresh additions, as a result of which the intensity of the built-in spiritual vibrations would steadily grow.

The more passionately you sing, the greater would be the stored sanctity. The more love you add to your feelings as you sing, the greater would be the enhancement of sanctity. Thus, by having sacred thoughts while seated here and by singing bhajans with pure love in your heart, each of you can leave behind an invaluable legacy.”

Dear listener! There is a particular reason why I am ending on this note. It you think about it carefully, you would realize that Prasanthi Nilayam is the place that has been the abode of the Avatar of the Age, from the time He moved out of the Paatha Mandiram [old temple] in 1950. During the six decades that followed, how many darshans He has given here! How many festivals He has celebrated here! How many plays and dramas He has seen here! And how many discourses He has delivered here! Just think of how much pure and Divine love He has personally poured out in the process in all those years! Have they all vanished into time? At the worldly level, they have indeed become memories. But at the subtle and causal level, the Sai Kulwant Hall is the most love-charged spot not only on the face of this planet but indeed the entire universe. For, was this not where the Divine Chancellor, Swami to all of us, showered His love non-stop, both at the individual and collective level?

The Form would no longer be visible to our eyes. However, if we care to open the eye of our heart, the Third Eye if you prefer to call it that way, we can have the grandest and the most blissful experience possible. Remember, even the best Steinway piano or the rarest Stradivarius violin cannot produce great music when it is not properly tuned! In other words, if we want to experience eternity, we can do so only if our hearts are properly tuned before going into the Sai Kulwant Hall [or anywhere]. If we go in without tuning, all we would see is a physical emptiness that would make us cry instead of feeling uplifted.

Swami has not gone. He is very much here, there, above, below, around, and indeed everywhere. However, we need a new vision to see Him. That is the essence of the last part of my talk today.

For now, I would, as always like to conclude by offering this talk at the lotus feet of our beloved Swami. Thank you for listening, and Jai Sai Ram.

Source: Radio Sai