| I had prepared a directory of
names of devotees who lived in the 1940s. This became my greatest source book for my
interviews. Most of the entries in the directory were incomplete with either no door
numbers or street names or even addresses. Some leads led me to houses in dilapidated
condition that were either sold or left in neglect, but the addressee had moved to God
knows where. If at all they were found, their children were indifferent to the cause. During the course of the research, it was found that failing
memory was one of the greatest enemies of man. The fear that the glorious events related
to one of the greatest personages of our times might be lost to the world, due to this
phenomenon of failing human memory, spurred me on to research with obsession. These
efforts were not left unrewarded.
In this first volume, there is abundant space given over
to the earlier and first-blessed devotees of Baba. For them, those joyful days have never
‘gone by’. Their devotion is not ‘part time’; they constantly relive
the blessed moments of those ‘good old days’, for they have lived with one of
the most unique persons in human history; they were transformed, and they live their
transformation, daily!
Pursuing these lives—and the one life that motivated
them—formed my personal education. In a very subtle way, the subject of the book
became my research guide and my teacher. Even subtler were the ways He arranged material
to reach me. For example, the knowledge that Thirumala Iyengar was the architect of
Prasanthi Nilayam led me to hunt for his surviving family, in order to obtain his
photograph and a brief note about him. But, I was always running into some obstacle or
other. One day, as I was about to enter my office building, I chanced to encounter a local
physician, whom I had known for a long time. I was surprised to learn, then, that a
relative of his was an Engineer at the very Thungabhadra Dam, which Iyengar had also
designed. He readily agreed to provide what I needed—at my doorstep!
There were innumerable setbacks. Each time I thought I had accomplished
something at last and made some progress, the unexpected would come along to destroy the
work or make me start all over again. This caused me some serious concern and much
frustration at first; but with each occasion, I could see that the previous work was
flawed in some way.
In 1998, Baba started speaking more about His early life, in public.
This greatly helped in the corroboration of facts. At one point, while composing the text
(on Baba’s life immediately following the Declaration that He was an Incarnation of
Divinity), the computer started registering pronouns relating to Baba—only in the
upper case—although we tried, in many ways, to undermine it!
The interviews were genuine revelations in themselves. I was speaking
to people who had been touched by God! Their appreciation of their early physical
proximity to Him had left them not only inspired and living in a heightened state of
Being, but also in constant communion with Him. When I interviewed T. Venkatasamy, one of
Baba’s classmates, he could not control himself; he shook and wept like a small
child. Mehboob Saheb, another classmate, and I had to ‘physically control’ him.
The interviews with G. Narasimha Dass, Subburathnamma, Mrs. Pushpakanthi Thirumal Rao and
Lakshmamma, wife of Venkatappa and others touched my heart—as they were moved to
tears. The Nagarathnam Mudaliar family visited Baba again, after 30 years, having been
moved by recollections prompted by the interview process. My inquiry into the past became
a pilgrimage to sanctified memory.
The status of the devotee in society did never bother me. I have
interviewed a few harijans in slums and even royal personages in palaces. For Baba they
are all equal. Devotion cannot be measured with the yardstick of status. Baba led me to
such interior places where ears never had been before. People there would gather to see my
ramshackle Maruti van – their first vision of a motor vehicle.
Once we visited Veerajinnaiahgaripalli to find out the details of
treatment given by the herbal doctor to Raju after the scorpion incident. After
interviewing the elderly people in the village, who had witnessed the treatment we started
to move to another village Appaiahgaripalli to meet Nanjappa, the son of the herbal
doctor. It was already dark in the evening, and the roads were not motorable. We were
passing through forest area where we couldn’t see a sign of anybody living there.
After 10 p.m. suddenly I felt a jerk in the rear and had a flat tyre. By the time I got
down from the car a bus which was coming from the opposite direction stopped. That was the
last bus from Bangalore to Krishnapuram. The driver and few passengers got down, enquired
and offered their help. I said, "We have a spare tyre." They all got into the
bus and proceeded on their way. After a few feet the bus came reverse ahead of our car and
parked there with the headlights aimed at our car. The driver and many other passengers
got down and said, "We are worried about you. You don’t get any help in this
forest area." They fixed the wheel and after we left they left.
Persistence helped. Over an eighteen-month period, almost 300 telephone
calls were made and a few long journeys were taken—in order to get an appointment to
collect some important photos from just one family. In the end, the family, which
requested anonymity, was most generous to trust me and to give me all that they had. So
was the case with the Parthasarathi Mudaliar family. They had an excellent collection of
old photographs and my office had approached Mudaliar’s daughter three times to
obtain them; three times she refused to part with them. Finally, my personal appearance in
their home, explaining the scope of the holy project, entreating her to reconsider,
rekindled her fond memories, and she welled up with the joy of sharing them. They gave everything!
Persistence was rewarded with obtaining the rare photograph of the blessed Subbamma from
the Karnam family. The family had refused to part with it earlier, even when Professor
Kasturi required it for the Sathyam Sivam Sundaram volumes or when the Ashram
Caretaker, Kutumba Rao required it for the inauguration of Subbamma nagar, a housing
colony in Puttaparthi, gifted by Baba in her name for the poor and the needy.
I was left wealthy within, with an immense sense of fulfilment. I had
collected a lot of material and made new friendships—ones that remain strong, even
today. At the end of it all, I had a most exciting mosaic—bits of information,
unbelievable experiences, a chronology of events in Baba’s life for almost every
month of the twenty-five years under review. Accounts in other biographies helped build
contexts for the interviews. Then, there were the photographs, truly telling the story of
the lovely form of Sai. They never exaggerated; they only confirmed; they never faded with
memory. Poor handling and storage had spoilt many of them. However, many hours of
persistent and devoted labours of love by the Graphics Staff of Sai Towers Publishing
helped restore and reveal them again, to a fortunate humanity.
All this has helped me to envision the cosmic thought of the word
‘Avatar’ and how it has come to life in a fantastic pattern, inventing
immense possibilities of ‘Being’ in life. I have seen the meaning reveal itself
in the living story: as little Sathyamu grew up—into Sathya and then into Raju, then
into Bala Sai, Sathya Sai, Swami and Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba—before my open
heart. For all those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, I allow the story to tell
itself on its own merits, even alluring the readers to penetrate His immense mystery.
At a time when the going was slow and unproductive, I had a strange
dream. In the dream, Baba visited my office and demanded that I show him the
‘pictorial album’. He went through every page. He gave me padanamaskar
and left. From the next day, onwards, everything fell into proper place. Many people came
forward to help. In a dream to my wife, He inquired, "What is your husband doing?
When is the book coming out? Ask him to finish, fast!"
It was His will that this book saw the light of day. During the long
odyssey, some could not make it to the finishing line. Many of my staff associated with
the production and research had to leave halfway through. (Many more friends suddenly
joining me midway, was no strange coincidence!) I could not clarify, from some devotee
sources, all of my endless doubts, for these devotees had died—either before I could
meet them in person or, a few, before I could meet them again. They were all very
interested in the book. Among those who have left us early, in this manner, were the Raja
of Sandur; Sethunarayan of Bangalore; K. C. Ranganna of Anantapur, B. V. Lakshman, M. L.
Leela and Kamala Sarathy of Madras; Mandiram Lakshmamma, Dr. N. Jayalakshmi and Arani
Rajamma of Prasanthi Nilayam. V. K. Narasimhan, editor of the Sanathana Sarathi,
was like a father figure—for the project and for me. He provided immense
encouragement, gave letters of introduction during the research and went through some of
the earlier drafts. He, too, is no more.
Computer breakdowns, erasure of hard disks, emotional breakdowns and
the unending bits of information and photographs that streamed in daily, delayed the book.
We were working on the most extraordinary subject. Yet, we were working on a very
difficult subject—for Baba’s openness in speaking about Himself, strangely made
Him more vulnerable.
The book is written for history, posterity. I sincerely felt I should
record the contribution of every devotee who was responsible for the growth of the ashram
or Sai movement in one way or other, even if he/she is a dropped out devotee for some
reason. It is not my business to explore why he discontinued. That is a problem between
God and the devotee. I was true to my subject and recorded the truth.
I interviewed many old devotees who are in their 80’s and
90’s, many classmates and schoolmates who are in their 70’s. The information I
got were unbelievable facts and first hand information from those who witnessed his early
leelas. I had to corroborate the facts with at least two or three different people who had
witnessed them or lived in the same place and same period for authenticity. Then I looked
for photographs, letters, invitations, books and materialisations to document the
findings. The good old devotees graciously agreed to share their precious collection with
the rest of the world out of love for their God.
Interestingly, when the book was released, a certain devotee called me
over the phone and said, "I saw your book. It doesn’t inspire me. You are
actually doing a disservice. The standard are not up to the mark. Why should the devotees
buy the book?" I sincerely pray Bhagawan to grace this devotee to get inspiration.
Many contentious issues have, perhaps, remained unresolved. We will be
most grateful if knowledgeable readers help bring such omissions or resolutions to our
attention. The biographical series ‘Love Is My Form’ has to live on
…until it completes its story. You, the reader, have to help it sustain itself. In
this light, it will not be out of place for me to appeal to you to give us important leads
or information, to lend us photographs or documents that would help in preparing the
volumes that follow.
Especially, I make a plea to the international sector, for encounters,
experiences and photographs from the Fifties and Sixties which indicate Baba’s
influence beginning to stir people’s lives in the Western countries, the Americas,
the European continent, Asia, Africa and the Orient. I see you to share my commitment to
Humanity.
The book in your hand and the forthcoming volumes target all of you
in the audience—the disinterested bystander, the curious reader, the ardent
researcher and the worshipful devotee. This is so, because the book is about you: search
and you shall find yourself in all fullness, in every page of the book, for—as Baba
reminds us in every discourse he has ever given—Love, after all, is your form, too!
R . Padmanaban |
