Rare Spiritual Treasure: "Divine Games of Bala Sai" by V.R. Krishna Kumar
Excerpts shared for educational and spiritual purposes with reverence to the author. This project is a non-profit initiative, offered as a labor of love and selfless service.
Subba Yatra
HOLY PILGRIMAGE
Without devotion, no God's grace.
Without God's grace, no happiness.
But the extent of God's thoughts in you,
Can bestow that much merit in you.
The most auspicious day in this birth, for us,
was in the month of October 1945. We got ready for the holy pilgrimage to
Puttaparthi for the first time, without knowing what was in store for us. As
already mentioned, it was a wonder of wonders that our non-believer father
agreed for the trip, but for just three days' stay. He had to come back to take
care of the business schedules and manage other social works. The required
items for the journey were ready. We thought reaching Puttaparthi would be
easy. From Kuppam we had to go by train to Bangalore City Station and board
Ananthapur bound passenger train to alight at Penugonda, and from there reach
Puttaparthi. These three stops to reach
our destination did not seem to be difficult. As the Telugu saying goes,
"Only when you jump into River Ganga you will know how deep it is!"
This came to our minds only during the latter part of the journey.
We left Kuppam in the morning and reached
Bangalore City Station by noon. After a long wait we boarded the slow
Ananthapur passenger train, which did not have even dim lamps. Only people like
us carried torch-lights in those days, and it was considered a luxury. The
other passengers would look at us with esteem because we held torch-lights. We
could not use the torches freely, because it was difficult to get the dry
batteries easily. In all this darkness, it was difficult to spot the station or
the platform. There were no big name boards with big letters mentioning the
name of the station. As the train approached the station, railway employees
would come near the bogies and loudly shout the name of the station. Listening
to this call, the passengers would scramble to get down. Our plight was beyond
any description. We had lot of luggage and we had much difficulty jumping of
the train on to the murky ground below. It was such a small station, without
any platform. We bundled out of the train with our entire luggage. Like this we
reached Penugonda station at midnight. The Station Master was kind enough to
stop the train as we rolled out of the bogie. There were no more trains that
would cross this station until the next day, so the whole place was deserted,
without any activity or on-going crowd. Stations like these did not have many travelers,
except for people like us. A forest surrounded this place, and it was dark all
over, without any lamps. In those days, there was much danger of robbery,
especially at such deserted places. At last we saw the Station Master and his
aid come towards us, carrying a small lamp with kerosene as its fuel. We had to
anange our luggage by the dim light of the lamp they held.
My father's health was not so good. We had to be
always ready with his important medicines, hot water, and suitable food. The
Station Master observed my father's condition and kindly opened the lock of one
small room for us to spend the night there. It was quite cold, due to the vast
open area. We were informed that we could get our bus only on the next day, for
our onward journey. The sympathetic Station Master left behind his lamp for our
use. We had no more stock of hot water for our father. In the middle of the
night, we did not know what to do and whom to approach. We presumed that our
family Deity Lord Venkateshwara was our only refuge. Suddenly, the Station
Master appeared and informed us that his house was situated nearby and we were
welcome to ask for any help required and left. I followed him with a request
for hot water, and he arranged for the same in his house. He was a kind-hearted
man and told me not to hesitate for any further requirements. I felt sorry to
observe that he had no children. Caught like this in the middle of the chilly
night, I cursed this journey as poison. I also got angry with the Sun God for
his delayed appearance! Anyhow, he did appear taking his own time.
Once again, hot water was required. Praising the
Station Master as the most compassionate person, I reached his house once
again. His wife was getting ready to heat water, and just by looking at me she
understood that I had come for that only. Wondering about the divine will, I
waited for her to boil the water. They made me sit and offered something to
drink. By chance, I mentioned that we were from Kuppam and they jumped in joy.
Long ago they had visited their friends at Kuppam. Suddenly their mood changed,
and invited all of us to their house. To get such affection at such an unknown
place made me feel that God was very close to us.
People going for their work started appearing.
Some of them were converging towards a big tree and returning after a while.
When I enquired, I found out that an old woman was selling Iddlies[1].
This was welcome news for my empty stomach. Without losing time, I had some
and carried some for the hungry family from the limited stocks she had. We had
to bear with the shortage, as she was not running any permanent hotel. The most
fascinating thing was, while I was having lddlies, a boy approached me and
enquired about my welfare. Before I could speak, he asked me if I was going to
Puttaparthi, which took me by surprise. When I enquired how he knew about my
destination, he sweetly replied that all those who go there face much
adversity. He also told me that it would be difficult to board the bus due to
the crowd, but he would deal with the conductor, known to him, and ensure our
journey to the next point.
In the mean time, as informed to us the
horse-drawn cart did arrive. The sight of the so-called cart and the horse
dried up like hay, made my heart scream. Just by its looks, whatever life was
left in me evaporated. I started wondering as to who would pull the cart, and
who would carry the horse! Looking at our bewilderment, the cart owner assured
us that he would take care of everything and tried his best to infuse courage.
Letting out ardent prayers to the Lord, we climbed into the so-called cart. That
was that! The harness gave way, and the cart tilted backward, pushing us down.
As we had no other alternative, we used the cart to carry our luggage and
walked behind it, without any risk of life.
We were dropped near the bus stand on the
roadside. As if the pangs of hunger are not enough, we were confronted by a
band of naughty monkeys. How we saved our luggage from their onslaught, we
never understood. When the bus arrived, the local people pounced into it in
such a way we did not stand any chance. When the monkeys were no match for
them, what were we? Within no time the bus was full, and we helplessly remained
on the roadside. All the efforts of father to get the tickets failed, and the
conductor never even respected his age. In those days, this was the plight for
all those visiting Puttaparthi, as the local people did not have any belief in
Swami. In the meantime, the conductor poked fun at our inability to jump into
the bus. After some time, when everything settled and cooled down, I thought
that we shall be stranded till the next day, as there was only one bus.
Suddenly, the conductor beckoned me and said that we can board the bus and
adjust on the front seat, as the boy had explained to him about us. Hearing
this, I was wonder-struck, as I had forgotten about the boy who assured our
onward journey. He did keep his promise, though I could not see him anywhere
near the bus. Somehow we squeezed ourselves onto the front seat, among sneers
and jeers of the villagers.
The buses of those days were most suitable for
the roads of those days. No one could understand what was not rattling as it
crawled in and out of the deep potholes. If it reached the destination, it was
our fortune, and we had to thank our stars for it. Throughout the journey, we
had to listen to all the insults meted out at Sai Baba by the locals. Under
these circumstances and at remote places, it was necessary to bear all this
silently. We were in a helpless position to do anything to stop them. We somehow
rattled into the small village called Bukkapatnam, with all our bones screaming
for mercy. Though I was very dejected wit what was happening, it was only
latter I realized that God might put us into numerous difficulties, but
ultimately rewards were bound to follow. Without patience, results could never
be seen.
At this small village there lived a family by
name 'Yadalam'. They would lovingly receive Sai devotees. It was our fortune to
meet such a family among the crowds of ill speaking uncouth people. As soon as
we got down, they received us nicely and arranged for bullock cart for our
forward journey. Though the looks of the so-called cart brought us fear, we
could do nothing about it. We placed our luggage on the cart, and some of us
preferred to walk behind it. We thought that we would reach Puttaparthi straight
away, but at 'Kottacheravu' we were due for a surprise. We came to know that we
had to cross the River Chitravathi, and due to heavy rains, it was in full
spate. Instead of waiting for the water level to subside, father preferred to
cross the river slowly. Somehow, holding the cart tightly, we crossed the
river.
We saw some people standing together, and this
brought us some relief-expecting some help. There was no chance for anyone
there to know about our arrival or even who we were! Due to the tiredness
caused by the strenuous journey, our minds were not fully functional, and we
did not think much about them. The sight of a young boy made me feel that he
was like a lotus rising out of a muddy pool with his white top as white as
white as jasmine flowers, white dothi[2]
around the waist, shining mass of hair like a basket, and face shining like the
moon. If this boy was so beautiful, how radiant his Guru should be, we thought?
Full details are in my sisters book 'Anyatha Saranam Nasthi', so I do
wish to repeat.
[1]Iddlies: a boiled mixture of rice and black
gram dhal suitable for breakfast.
[2]Dothi: cloth tied around the waist running up to the
feet.
