It was in 1981 that I got the privilege of joining the Sri Sathya Sai Arts, Science and Commerce College, Brindavan in Whitefield, Bangalore. It was a verdant and peaceful campus – the old bungalow, Sai Ram Shed under a large Banyan tree, the hostel with divine vibrations rippling along the wonderful Gulmohar trees all around! It all felt like a slice of heaven on earth, so blissful that it filled us with contentment and never made us feel the need for a world outside it. 

Sai Pita Aur Mata Sai

Besides being the Supreme Lord of my life, Swami has played the grand roles of both a mother and father to me.

One day, in 1984 during my second year in college, I was sitting in the Portico during the evening Darshan. Swami walked up and asked me, “Father kya karta hai?” (What does Father do). To this I replied that he had passed away a year and a half ago. He inquired, “Nahi pehle kya karta tha?” (What was doing before?) I replied that he was an electric contractor. “Mother Darjeeling mein hai? Kya karti hai?” (What does mother do in Darjeeling?) I told Him that she was a housewife. 

Then Swami questioned, “Tumhara charges kaun deta hai?” (Who pays your hostel mess charges?) I replied, “Swami, my brother and sister”. To this He said, “No brother, no sister. Swami will pay for you”. After that I did not have to pay a single rupee. He would give me money to buy new clothes before His birthday and would also pay for my train fares to go home during the vacations until I graduated.

Another remarkable event took place in the first year of my post-graduation. It was the beginning of the new session and I was down with fever. Every year, Swami would visit the hostel and bless the new students. We had a musical programme and this was the first time that I would be unable to attend it. I had been a part of the Sai Symphony, playing the guitar since the day I joined and had never missed a musical concert in the presence of Swami whether in the hostel, college, Mandir or Birthday programmes in Poornachandra Auditorium. I was in utter despair, forced to stay put while everyone else was at the concert. 

Next morning, I heard Swami’s car coming into the hostel. Everyone had gone to college and only a handful of us were there. My room was on the ground floor and I could hear Swami’s voice. My bed was visible through the door. Fearing that Swami might see my condition if He came this way, I quickly got up to close the door and hid by the wall. Suddenly, the door opened and Swami walked in!  He saw me hiding by the wall and came straight to me and caught both my hands. He asked me, “Diyali, what happened?” I replied, “Swami, fever”. Swami examined my pulse and asked me if I was taking medicines. I said that I was and He said, “Get well soon and come for Darshan”. He granted Padanamaskar and asked me to get some sleep. I was so weak with the illness that I went back to bed while He was still standing there.

I learnt later that as soon as He had arrived, Swami had asked one of the brothers pointing to my room as to who was in the room. The brother informed Swami that I was there before Swami entered my room. Today when I reminisce about this event, I’m convinced that He had come all the way to the hostel just to bless me. This felt greater than the love of a thousand mothers.

There is only one language, the language of the heart

I would write my letters to Swami in English but once I thought of writing it in my mother tongue, Nepali. Swami had come for evening Darshan when I gave Him my letter. He took it and went inside the interview room. After the interview He came to me, and asked in Hindi why I hadn’t written the letter in English. I remained quiet. He was speaking in Hindi, “You know that I know your language?” I quickly said, “Yes, Swami”. Then He said, “Yes, I know all languages. You wrote in Darjeeling language, right?” and I said, “Yes, Swami”. He then narrated word by word my letter that I had written in Nepali.

He has taught us a language, the language of the Heart. He let us experience His omnipresence and omniscience and has continued to guard and guide our lives.

Rabin Diyali Master’s degree in History and Indian Culture, 1981 – 1988, Brindavan and Prasanthi Nilayam. He is a PG teacher in Kumudini Homes Higher Secondary School, Kalimpong, Darjeeling. He is also a Trustee of the Sai Saraswati Foundation.