The Greatest Gift of Life

The 9th of December in 1986 dawned as usual in Puttaparthi. The senior boys’ hostel was bustling with hectic activity, as they got ready for the classes. Among them was Mr. V. Kumar, an MBA student at the Prasanthi Nilayam campus of the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning.

The Lord’s darshan

Like anywhere else Parthi students were not very excited about the classes; for them the most beautiful time of the day was in the evening when they would go to the mandir [temple] for darshan [sight of a holy person] of their beloved Swami, Bhagavan Baba. Kumar, too, went through all the classes eagerly waiting for the last bell to ring so that he could rush to the hostel, freshen up discarding the ‘college whites’ for the bright, creaseless white clothes that he had kept aside for darshan.

Within a matter of minutes, Kumar was at the Ganesh gate of the ashram. As he cast away his slippers, he saw a few of the students carefully hiding their footwear or locking them with a chain and keeping the key safely with them lest they [slippers] be lost. However, he had his own strategy to protect them by leaving his slippers near his home, room A1 in East Prasanthi, right next to the mandir. The house was a gift from Swami to his parents in 1985—a bountiful blessing for the pious souls.

As Kumar moved toward East A1, he saw his father standing outside the house. He appeared very pensive and seemed to be searching for him [Kumar] among the students. The smile on Kumar’s face faded and he knew that something was wrong. He turned and rushed to his father.

“Mother is the first God; Father is the next God. Then comes the Guru and finally God.” Kumar remembered Swami’s words as he sacrificed his vantage seat in the mandir to find out why his father was looking for him. Meanwhile, one of the front racers shouted, “its no use! We have all missed darshan. Swami has gone into the interview room with a group.”

A tragedy no son can bear

Assured that he was not missing out in today’s race, Kumar approached his father.

“Oh Kumar,” he said almost swooning in his arms, “All of a sudden, your mother collapsed in the house this afternoon. There are doctors in our house monitoring her situation now….”

Kumar rushed into the house and went straight to the living room. Kumar recollects those painful moments:

When I went into the living room, I could see almost all the famous doctors of Puttaparthi there. I turned and saw my amma (mother) lying on the bed—straight, eyes closed, and arms on the side. On the right, I saw Dr. Chari, Dr. Alreja, Dr. Shantamma, and several others. There was an ECG machine plugged in and it was beeping weakly. I was totally flummoxed and speechless. Dr. Chari came up to me, put his hand on my shoulder, and taking me to the front room said, “Your mother’s pulse rate is dropping every minute. We are doing everything that we can from a medical angle, but she is not responding at all. At this rate, we might see 20 or 25 minutes of life in her. I feel you should go to the mandir, sit in the front and inform Swami about this situation. He is the only one who can save her.”

For the first time in my life, I felt as though a ton of bricks were falling on me. The doctor’s words left me bewildered and motionless. I asked him, “Sir, will you also sit in the front and try to talk to Swami?”

“Yes, I will try my best,” he nodded.

I looked at my dad. He was in tears. Being the only son without any siblings, I suddenly felt very emotional and responsible. I told my father, “Dad, do not worry. I will try to talk to Swami. Swami is the only refuge we have.”

Kumar ran out of his house and into the Bhajan hall of the mandir. Swami was still in the interview room. Being a good singer, he requested the other singers to allow him sit in the front row next to the bhajan hall door. The idea being that he would be the first person Swami would see as He came out of the interview room. Sitting in that strategic place, Kumar closed his eyes and tried to focus and pray.

The loneliness of sorrow

That proved to be a Herculean task as the mind kept getting sad thoughts about his mother. Memories are really funny; you think of the times when you cried and laughed at yourself; then, when you think of the good times and that you were happy, your eyes well up with tears. Similarly, Kumar too had a smile on the face and tears in his eyes thinking that he might lose his mother’s love and care!

He looked out of the bhajan hall and saw Dr. Chari arrive and take a seat in front of the portico. He was definitely doing his best with all the other doctors. Kumar then looked at the clock, 15 minutes had passed since Dr. Chari had predicted about 25 minutes of life for his mother. He recollects:

This was perhaps the only time in my student life when I felt that time was ticking too fast. My prayer was—Oh Lord! When are you going to come out of the interview room? Do you even know that my mother is going farther away from me with every passing moment? Can you please come and save her?

My heart was pining for His physical presence. Everything seemed to have come to a standstill, except the clock! Time was ticking. I continued seeing my watch for the nth time and I realized that 20 minutes had passed. I looked at the doctor sitting at a distance and gestured to him wanting to know what his feelings were with regard to amma hanging on to her life. He stared at me but did not reply. That made matters worse. I now focused on the handle of the interview room door. When will Swami push it down so that I can see Him? 30 minutes had passed and my head was telling me to accept the inevitable but my heart was refusing to obey. The internal tussle intensified and no one could even comprehend what was happening to me. I felt so alone….

The head takes over the heart

Death is an enigma. It arouses awe. It kindles fear. Death happens simply but is very complex to understand. It is a mystery that man has tried to solve from the beginning of life itself. Almost everyone fears death—if not one’s own, at least of their dear ones. There are only a few blessed ones who realize that death is not the end; that it is just a companion of life just like night is the companion of day. Not many of us think of ‘life after death’ because we are very busy leading our ‘life before death!’ It is thus understandable that we are shocked and numbed with death—even its prospect.

One can only empathize with Kumar when his ‘sane’ head took over his ‘fluttering’ heart. He began to mentally chart a list of all the relatives he would have to call for the impending funeral. It was sad that a death would be the cause for these relatives’ first visit to Puttaparthi. Maybe that was how Swami had planned to pull in more of his family under His Divine umbrella. How would he ever cope with the loss of his mother? Kumar steadied himself by silencing his protesting heart. Wiping away a trickling tear, he made plans to procure firewood for the funeral rites from the nearby Kothacheruvu [village]. He also planned to arrange accommodation for family members who would be arriving.

It was now 50 minutes since the doctor’s prediction. The heart attempted one last wail for a miracle but Kumar’s head simply snuffed it out. It was not as if Swami had never done a resurrection before. Just like the resurrection of Lazarus of Bethany is considered to be a miracle of Lord Jesus, there are several recorded and documented resurrections by Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba. Three of them come to mind immediately—the deliverance of Karnam Subamma, the resurrection of Mr. Walter Cowan, and theraising from the dead of Brigadier Bose.

The final blow

Bhajans began with the preliminary Aumkaar [chanting of Aum]. Ganesha bhajan was being sung when the interview room door opened and Swami out walked with a beaming smile on His face. Kumar turned and asked the bhajan in-charge, “Sir, could I please sing the second bhajan?”

Kumar saw Dr. Chari get up and walk to Swami and he spoke with Him. But Swami very casually brushed him aside and gestured to him to sit down. Entering the bhajan hall, Swami took his seat. Sitting a few meters away, Kumar tried to catch His eye. In his words:

Here was the creator of the universe sitting right in front of me and yet I was unable to communicate to Him about Amma and my plight. I kept staring at Him hoping that He would see me and call me to put balm on my grieving heart. But then I realized that I was under Swami’s ‘cold treatment’. In this mystical phase of a devotee-Lord relationship, the devotee is given the impression of being totally ignored by Swami. Thus, the Master gives an opportunity to the student to go within, analyze, contemplate, and delve on the reasons for being ignored by Him. During this phase Swami completely shuns the entire zone where the student is seated during darshan, does not take letters, or talk or make eye contact while secretly observing the student.

I understood that I was being given the cold treatment. But at such a time and in such a situation, I felt it was so unfair. I saw the Lord turning His face and looking out of the bhajan hall though his hand was keeping a beat to the rhythm of the bhajan. I concluded that there is no way I could talk to Him. So, I decided, my best bet was to sing and communicate my feelings.

As the chords of the harmonium [musical instrument] indicated that it was time to start his bhajan, Kumar began in such a soulful cry that it would have struck a chord in any heart.

Tvameva Maataa Cha Pitaa Tvameva
Tvameva Bandhush-Ca Sakhaa Tvameva
Tvameva Vidyaa Dravinnam Tvameva
Tvameva Sarvam Mama Deva Deva

(You truly are my mother and you truly are my father.
You truly are my relative and you truly are my friend.
You truly are my knowledge and you truly are my wealth.
You truly are my all, my God of Gods.)

Choking with emotion, Kumar began the bhajan, ‘Sai Pita Aur Mata Sai.’ He was sure that now at least, Swami would turn and look at him. But he was in for a shock of his life. Even as he came to the second line of the bhajan, Swami got up and walked out of the bhajan hall toward the gents’ side of the hall! Ignored, neglected, desolate, and dejected Kumar began to cry.

His unforgettable bhajan

The bhajan that Kumar sang was full of pathos and meaning. It called out to Swami as—his mother, father, guru, friend, and sibling. It also addressed Him as the Vedas, Upanishads, and the Gita of life. With the bhajan Kumar completely surrendered to Him—he was almost sobbing and sang with a superhuman effort. As he sang, he prayed within, “Swami, even in this hour of need, you are giving me the cold treatment! You are deserting me and going away from me; whom do I turn to now? You don’t even want to hear what I want to say. Am I so unwanted?”

Soon, Kumar completed his bhajan and almost after 5 bhajans Swami returned to the mandir after [what he thought was] the bonus darshan round. Expecting some compassion, he recalls his feelings:

Swami walked into the bhajan hall, took his seat and continued looking outside and enjoying the bhajans like everything was fine. After the 6th bhajan, he got up to receive Arati [the sacred flame]. Forget talking to me, He did not even glance at me. He simply received Arati and walked out of the bhajan hall, back to his residence. I was totally devastated. I considered it my worst fate and walked out of the bhajan hall. I wanted to rush home with the hope that Amma would be alive.

Yet another shock

As Kumar left the bhajan hall and rushed towards East A1, scores of students and teachers walked up to him and patted him on his back saying, “Blessed are you…” “You are lucky…” “You are Swami’s very own…” Kumar wondered what it all meant. Even the warden talked to him and gave him a gentle pat. Unable to comprehend what was happening, Kumar sprinted toward his house.

As Kumar reached the door of his house, he saw four Seva Dal volunteers walking out holding a stretcher with his mother lying motionless. Behind them was his father trying to lock the door with tears in his eyes. Kumar knew that it was all over but this was not the time for him to grieve. He walked to his father and gently patted him on the shoulder. Amidst sobs, the father tried to speak to Kumar but couldn’t. Kumar took the key from his hands and said, “You go with amma. It will all be fine. Don’t worry.”

With a heavy step and an even heavier heart, Kumar walked into the house that would never be the same again. There was no time for nostalgia. He quickly grabbed a woolen sweater for his father and locked the house to go to the Sri Sathya Sai General Hospital mortuary. He recollects:

I reached the gate of the hospital and asked the watchman where the mortuary was. He looked puzzled and said, “There is no one in the mortuary.”

“They have just taken the dead body of a woman. Didn’t you see that? Do you know where the body is?”

He gestured with his finger. Even amidst my sorrow, I was bemused. I told him, “I know she has gone up, but where have they taken the body?” The confusion on his face grew and then he replied, “They have taken the stretcher to the first floor.”

I wondered why would they do so. Nevertheless I went upstairs and I found my father sitting on a bench outside a makeshift ICU. I went up to him and asked him, “What happened? Why are you sitting outside? Why have they brought the body here?” He caught hold of me tightly and said in a quivering voice, “Don’t you know Swami came to our home during the bhajan and saved amma?”

Unfolding of a miracle

Kumar was speechless and shell shocked. He broke down and cried like a baby. However, he quickly recovered for he was eager to hear the story from his father’s lips. [Swami recounted the entire story in great detail a couple of days later during a discourse in the bhajan hall. Kumar was seated at the end of the hall near the Krishna-Arjuna chariot. Pointing to him, Swami called him by name and narrated in detail what had actually happened.]

Kumar had assumed that it was all over because Swami got up and walked out of the bhajan hall, instead, Swami had headed straight to the gate on the gents’ side and walked toward East A1.

“The boy’s mother was dying but he was calling out to me as his mother. How could I keep quiet? I just rushed to the house,” Swami revealed in His discourse.

Entering the house, much to the amazement and relief of the doctors, Swami asked, “What happened to her?”

“Swami, she had very high blood pressure and collapsed with hypertensive heart failure. Her condition gradually deteriorated and after a few hours, she passed away.” The doctor’s voice was weak and meek. Swami just smiled at the doctor and he continued, “We have tried everything possible to revive her Swami but nothing worked.”

Swami moved to Kumar’s father who was devastated and in a state of shock, patting him lovingly and blessing him with a smile, Swami said, “Why are you worried, mad one? I am here now.” So saying, Swami walked up to mother’s bedside and in His sweet voice asked [like a mother asks her little kid], “Sithamma, look who has come!” (The mother’s name is Sitha.) Sithamma did not respond. Swami placed His index finger under her nostrils, as if checking for her breath. He then called a doctor to do the same. The doctor did as he was told and shook his head to indicate that there was no life left in Sithamma.

Swami moved toward the platform where the Shivalinga that He had materialized for Kumar’s parents was kept. He took the tumbler of abhishekam water and with a spoon He poured it into the mouth of Sithamma’s lifeless body. It did not stay in the mouth and trickled out down her cheeks. A second spoon of water was poured and the result was the same. As Swami picked up the third spoonful of water, Kumar’s father began to cry. “No Swami! Noooo…” he said.

In the Hindu tradition, when a dying person is given sacred water through the mouth [it is one of the last rites] if the third water is ‘rejected’ it is a confirmation that the person has died—a confirmation that Kumar’s father did not want to see.

“I went in and gave water. They thought that water is given to signify the end. But water is life. Through the water I gave [her] life,” Swami stated emphatically in His discourse.

That was what happened when Swami offered the third spoon of water. A faint ‘glug’ was heard and Sithamma accepted the water! The ECG monitor that had a flat-line suddenly kicked back to life. The tears from Kumar’s father multiplied. Kumar recollected the miraculous moment with great relish:

The third time the water went in with a sound—‘gluk gluk’. This was the sign of life coming back. Swami created vibhuti [holy ash] and applied it on her forehead and then walked to the other side of the bed to rub it on her foot. He looked at the doctors and smiled. He called Dr. Alreja and asked him to check if amma had started to breathe. The doctor kept his finger under her nose and then with a smile said, “Yes. She is breathing. Swami, she has been resurrected.”

All the doctors with folded hands gestured and thanked Swami for such a miracle. Swami told them, “Shift her to the general hospital, keep her in ICU and then let her take rest for a month or so. Then she can come home.”

He instructed the doctors to be present with her and take her pulse rate and blood pressure every half hour and that He would look at the chart next morning. He finally looked at my father, and said, “You mental fellow, don’t worry when Swami is there. Your son sang with a lot of devotion. He said I am his father and mother. I could not sit there. That is why I got up and came running. Your wife will not leave this world till I give the green signal.” Saying this he blessed him and left the house.

Warmth of Love

Kumar and his father remained by Sithamma’s bedside until late in the night, and eventually drifted into sleep. Suddenly, at 2 a.m., Kumar woke up with the strong vibhuti fragrance in the room. He looked around and saw that his father too was awake and aware of the strong scent. They rushed into the makeshift ICU and found the doctor dozing. But as he entered the room, his mother gently opened her eyes and Kumar said, “amma” gently moving his hand on her head. “Where am I? Where have you brought me?” she asked.

I am reminded of a famous English song, “Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love can be? The sweet love story that is older than the seas… the simple truth about the love He brings to me… Where do I start?”

Isn’t the Divine love that binds the individual soul and the Universal soul the purest and truest form of love? It is love that makes a dumb person speak but it can also make an eloquent person be dumbstruck!

Kumar did not know where to begin to answer his mother’s question; he continues: I was very eager to tell her everything that happened in the evening but the doctor prevented me. She said this is not the right time, as she needed to rest. She very politely asked me to go out.

Next morning at about 9:30 a.m., the father prevailed upon Kumar to head home for a shower. As he climbed down the stairs, he was stunned to see Swami walking up the same staircase!

“Aye dunnapota! Yekkada pothunnavu (Where are you going)?” Swami asked. Though the word dunnapota translates into ‘he-buffalo’ I just cannot describe or translate the sweetness and magic of that word when Swami uses it—how we pine to hear Him call us thus!

“Swami, I am going home to take a bath, change my clothes and refresh myself. Then, I will return.”

Swami climbed up to the step on which Kumar was standing. He held his hand and said, “Ra, kalisi paiki pothamu (Come, let us go up together)!”

Kumar was simply thrilled. He had been so busy in answering Swami that he hadn’t noticed that the ‘cold treatment’ had ended. Swami was speaking to him after a long time and it was absolute nectarine for him. In Kumar’s words:

There was no one except the doctor and a nurse. Swami pulled an old metal chair to sit! Meanwhile the news that Swami was in the hospital spread and all the doctors and nurses converged into the small room.  Swami went to amma’s bedside and said to her in Tamil, “Sithamma, yeppadi irukku? (How are you feeling)? Ivangellam sonnaga ne poyacchu (These people told me that you are gone).”

Amma was smiling and said, “Swami, it is by your grace that I am alive today.”

Swami looked at the doctors and asked, “Where is the ECG machine?’ Immediately, the ECG machine was brought into the room. He said, “Take ECG now.” The Divine doctor took over completely checked the ECG readings. “She is normal. Look at the ECG taken yesterday and this one. What a difference!”

One of the doctors immediately said, “Swami, it is only by Your grace that she is alive today.”

It was a redundant statement under the circumstances. But Swami looked up and said, “Where science ends, Divinity begins.”

He told the doctors to note down the beta-blockers and medicines that had to be given to her. Swami looked at me and asked, “Where are you having your food?”

“Swami, I will have it in the canteen while she is in the hospital.”

“She is sick today because she continuously made pooris [Indian fried bread] for you.” He tapped my head and said, “Joke chestunnanu ra (I am just joking).”  Then He said, “You have lunch with Me daily. No need to go to the canteen. For your father, food will be arranged from the canteen.”

Swami left after talking to all the doctors.

The gift of life

The gift of life is only the beginning. That is what Kumar discovered as Swami’s shower of love and grace overwhelmed him and his parents. Swami made another trip to the hospital to enquire about Sithamma. He constantly monitored her health. Finally, after a month, when Kumar asked Swami whether he could get his mother home, Swami sent His Mercedes Benz to bring her home! The gift of life was only the beginning for Sithamma.

~Abridged from the original article by Aravind Balasubramanya, Puttaparthi
Source: Radio Sai Global Harmony
(http://radiosai.org)