It was a beautiful evening. The tiny tots of the primary school were sitting in the interview room and Swami was narrating the story of a sparrow. The sparrow had selected a strong tree, picked the sturdiest branch, gathered the best twigs and engineered a cosy little nest. Unfortunately, there came a day when its life was engulfed by a fierce storm. The forest shook as the storm raged. The strong tree, its sturdy branch and the strong twigs provided no assurance to the little soul as the tree swayed precariously in the tempest. Just as the nest was about to collapse, the bird resorted to the strength within – the strength called ‘faith’. The sparrow spread its wings and took off.

The physical storm may have continued, but the reliance upon the ‘Guru’ within had ended the storm for the sparrow.

Many times, when our life is caught in such a tempest and we are desperately seeking an answer – merely a proof of His presence – His acknowledgement of our misery, our trials and tribulations, is all we need. Does He really know what we are going through? Has He chosen not to respond, or has He forsaken us to our fate? What are we supposed to do? At such times, something happens. We are forced to take certain actions at the nadir of desperation. Over time, the storm subsides. The is no astounding ‘lo and behold’ miracle that happens, but He has made us take that one step within that saved the day. The storm ends, the sun rises, and we see Him smile. The following is one such experience with the Master, possibly meant to help in taking that one step within. Perhaps the storm was nearing.

It was January 2007 in Chennai during the Athirudra Maha Yagna. One morning we were all with Swami in a very small room in Sundaram. I snuggled to a remotely accessible corner of the room to the right of Swami. Swami started conversing with us and was enquiring about various things. Just then, Swami was informed about the arrival of a devotee. Probably, Swami was expecting him. Swami indicated to all of us to vacate the room. Since I was in the remote corner to Swami’s right, I had to wait for others to leave before I could move out. As I got up, Swami stretched out His legs blocking the only 2 feet distance that was my path. I looked at Him quizzingly unsure what to do. He looked at me with a blank stare. There was no reaction, no consent nor any disapproval. I did not want to step over His Feet. I slowly sat down trembling. He kept looking at me all the while. The silence was deafening. I could hear Swami’s calm breath and my crazily thumping heart. I was desperately looking for instructions on how to proceed. He was right in front of me, barely three feet away, staring at me without any facial expression. Should I stay or should I seek His permission to leave His presence? I felt foolish.

My head was a muddled chaos of a gazillion thoughts and three feet away from me was the ‘absolute thoughtlessness’. To break that awkward silence, the devotee whose arrival Swami had been informed about previously, entered. The moment he entered, that expressionless face blossomed into a benevolent smile. The devotee fell at Swami’s Feet and profuse blessings flowed from Swami. Of the many things that were then discussed, there was a mention of solving a water problem around the region the devotee hailed from. He was indicating to Swami that there was no water source nearby that could feed a reservoir. Swami disagreed and said there was a water source in the vicinity. There was a momentary pause. The Lord and the devotee were looking at one another – a question staring at an enigma. This frozen moment was broken by the devotee quickly unfolding a map of the region that he had brought with him. It was a large map and I held one of the corners (possibly, I was stationed there for that reason). The devotee quickly scanned through all the water bodies of the region as Swami looked intently at the map. He kept praying to Swami that there was nothing nearby and Swami kept telling ‘there was’. Which way would this sweet tug lend itself? The answer was known but the manner was to be revealed. Swami looked at the devotee and continued staring at him while placing His left index finger on an intricate map, that too without even bothering to look at it. The devotee peered into the location closely as the contours of his face changed into that of awe and surprise. He started slapping his cheeks (a way of seeking pardon from the Divine) and started uttering “Deva… Deva…”. Amidst all this, I looked at Swami. I found His face assuming the same expressionless demeanour. I tried to look at Him without shaking the map into which he was now staring, but I must have erred. A quick movement of His eyes and He looked at me. I couldn’t even fold my hands, and then He smiled.

Dr Jagdish Chandra B.Sc (Hons), M.Sc Physics, M.Phil i Bio-Photonics, PhD in Physics (Nonlinear Optics), 2000 – 2010, Prasanthi Nilayam. Currently Principal Engineer (Semiconductor R&D) in Carl Zeiss, Singapore.