Video Transcript of
11th World Conference of the Sri Sathya Sai International Organization On the Occasion of the 100th Anniversary of Sri Sathya Sai’s Descent to
Earth, November 23, 2025, Sai Prema Nilayam, Riverside, California
Introduction of Mr.
Aravind Balasubramanya
It is
my distinct prize, privilege, and honor to introduce our next guest, Mr. Aravind Balasubramanya.
Brother
Aravind
comes from a family that has been devoted to Bhagawan for nearly 50 years. He
is a distinguished alumnus of the Sri Sathya Sai Higher Secondary School and
the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning, where he earned a Gold Medal
for his Bachelor of Science. He also holds an M.Sc. in Chemistry and an MBA
from the Institute.
From
2007 to 2021, he served with Radio Sai and had the singular blessing of serving
as Swami’s personal photographer for nearly five years. The author of four
books detailing his profound experiences with Bhagawan, Brother Aravind now
dedicates his life to sharing Swami’s teachings through various media channels
and global forums. Known to many as Swami’s photographer and storyteller, it is
my honor to welcome him today.
The Greatest Love
Story: Opening Address By Aravind
Balasubramanya
Om Sri
Sairam. I offer my most humble Pranams at the Lotus Feet of our Beloved
Bhagawan—to dearest Swami seated here on this throne, and to dearest Swami
seated in the hearts of everyone gathered here and around the world.
Despite
preparing for this for many weeks and months, I must confess it is an
overwhelming feeling. What a day, what a moment for all of us to be alive. As I
stood before Swami, my question to Him was:
“Swami,
where do I begin?" Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love
can be?The sweet love story that is older than the sea...The simple truth
about the love He brings to me.Where do I start?”
Dearest
Swami, I find today to be a rare occasion where my words seem to fail me, and
my eyes feel more inclined to do the talking. In an attempt to lighten my
heart, let us sing together a song familiar to the whole world:
“Happy
Birthday to You... Happy Birthday to You... Happy Birthday dear Swami... Happy
Birthday to You.”
The Gift for the
Divine
After
the song, we cut the cake and offer the "Birthday Boy" His gifts. But
what gift can we truly give to the Lord of the Universe?
In the
26th Shloka of the Ninth Chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, Swami Himself
defines the gifts He cherishes. He says, "I don't want anything from
you, but if you wish to give Me something, you can give Me a fruit."
He says
if you find it hard to find a fruit—though here in the United States, even in
my Airbnb backyard, there are lime and guava trees in abundance—then give Me a
flower. We have already seen the beautiful "flowers" of devotion
offered by our Young Adults today. If you cannot find a flower, He says, "Just
give Me a leaf." And if you cannot find even a leaf, He says, "Give
Me some water. I am happy."
The Floods of 1976: A
Lesson in Divine Planning
To
celebrate this birthday, let me take you back to another significant day: Krishna
Janmashtami in 1976. At that time, massive floods had hit Puttaparthi.
Professor Nanjundaiah, who later served as the Controller of Examinations at
the Institute, was then a lecturer at the Brindavan campus. He was making his
way to Puttaparthi for the celebrations but was severely delayed by the rising
waters.
He felt
terrible. “It is Krishna Janmashtami, and I have missed my Swami’s Darshan,”
he thought. However, like many devoted staff members, he had the privilege of
seeking permission to go up to Swami’s room. When he finally arrived and
climbed the stairs, he found Swami seated with Swami Karunyananda at His Lotus
Feet.
The
moment Nanjundaiah entered, Swami turned to Karunyananda and said, “What did
I tell you? See?” Karunyananda smiled and replied, “Yes, Swami. You said
Nanjundaiah was coming and that he would be carrying a blue basket filled with
flowers and fruits.”
In that
instant, all of the Professor's frustration and sorrow vanished. He realized
that Swami knows everything and, more importantly, that Swami has planned it
this way. Our frustrations and upsets arise because we forget that the
Divine has a plan. We didn't "miss" the flight; Swami intended for us
not to be on it. We didn't "fail" to get the award; Swami had other
plans. When we realize this, we stop beating ourselves up and stop letting our
egos soar when things go "right." It is all His Will.
True Devotion vs.
Ritualistic Burden
Professor
Nanjundaiah was thrilled. He asked, “Swami, may I offer this garland to You?”
Swami agreed. “Swami, may I offer these fruits and Tulsi leaves at Your
Lotus Feet? May I wash Your Lotus Feet?”Patram, Pushpam, Phalam, Toyam—he
offered all four.
Lost in
bliss, he asked, “Swami, isn't it enough if we simply have Bhakti
(devotion)?” Swami has this unique ability: in a mundane moment, He can
part the clouds to reveal a profound insight, or, when you are at the peak of
emotion, He can “prick the bubble” to bring you back to earth. Swami looked at
him and said, “Yes, if devotion is there, it is enough. But if you think
this is devotion, it is of no use to you—and it is a big headache for me!”
The Evolution of the
Offering: Brindavan in the 1980s
When I
heard this, I thought of Swami’s words in His previous Avatar as Krishna. He
said He would be happy with a single leaf or a drop of water. Why then, when
all four were offered, did He call it a "burden"?
Let's
look at Brindavan in the 1980s. In those days, many had the privilege of
garlanding Swami. Devotees would buy expensive, elaborate garlands. Swami would
ask, “How much did this cost? Why are you spending so much money?” When
we say, “His Life is His Message,” we see it in the details. I’ve
heard stories from Hyderabad of Swami bargaining over the price of metal chairs
to save a few rupees. When people said, “Swami, it’s okay,” He replied, “No,
you don't know—I have to build a hospital.” He showed us how to live with
social and financial responsibility.
To save
the devotees money, Swami said, “There are so many flowers in the Brindavan
garden. Why buy them from outside? Pluck these flowers and make a garland.”
This moved the devotees from a “Marketplace Bhakti” to a Bhakti Yoga
combined with Karma Yoga. Now, it wasn't just about spending money;
it was about the effort of plucking and stringing the flowers. But soon, the
beautiful Brindavan garden was stripped of all its color, leaving only green
leaves.
The Lesson of the “Monkey
Boys”
This
reminds me of the “Monkey Boys” in Brindavan—Sevadal whose job was to
chase away the monkeys. One boy was struggling with a particularly brave
monkey. He was shooing, jumping, and waving a stick until a window opened and
Swami looked out. “What are you doing?” Swami asked. “Swami, the
monkey is taking the fruits and flowers!” Swami simply said, “Those
fruits and flowers are meant for them. Leave it. Let them take.” That is
Swami. We often think the best of nature must be reserved for Him, but He sees
all as His own. Eventually, Swami told the devotees, “As I come out, just
look at the flowers on the bushes, offer them to Me in your heart, and I will
accept it. Don't pluck the flowers.”
Hridaya Pushpam: The Gift of the
Heart
As we
walk into Sai Prema Nilayam, we see these beautiful flowers. They are
truly wonderful. Yet, in their presence, I realized why Swami called the
physical garlands a “headache.” When He says He wants a Pushpam
(flower), He is not asking for the blossom we pluck today that withers
tomorrow.
What He
truly desires is the Hridaya Pushpam—the flower of the heart.
That is why He told the devotees in Brindavan to simply look at the flowers on
the bushes and offer them mentally. He wasn't receiving the petals; He was
receiving the fragrant feelings of their hearts. That is the one gift we can
truly offer Swami on His 100th birthday: our Hridaya Pushpam.
The 1991 Birthday: A
Hospital for the Poor
From
the flower of the heart, let us move to the birthday of 1991. That was the year
Swami inaugurated the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Medical Sciences—the
Super Speciality Hospital in Puttaparthi.
The
year prior, Swami had pounded His chest in a moment of intense passion and
asked, “What about the poor? Rich people can travel to America for their
treatment. But the poor? There is nobody even to give them 'color water' (a
placebo).” He declared He would build a hospital where the highest level of
care would be free for all.
At that
time, even the Trustees were awestruck. The Avatar’s compassion exhibits itself
as passion, which results in world-changing innovation. The hospital was built
in record time, but soon, the floodgates opened. Long lines of patients formed,
and the waiting lists grew.
The “Bank Balance” of
Grace
One
day, Swami called His officers and told them, “Any patient who approaches
your Samithi centers, don't worry—send them here.” But then He added a
profound condition. He noticed that many patients were simply coming to sit in
the Darshan Hall, hoping for a miracle.
Swami
said, “I am ready to heal them. But before you send them here, tell them to
do some Bhajans. Tell them to do some Seva. Then let them come.” He
explained that by doing these things, they were increasing their spiritual
"bank balance," which allowed Him to bless and heal them more
effectively.
The Story of Romesh:
Seva as Medicine
A
gentleman named Mr. Sachdeva took this advice back to his state. In Madhya
Pradesh, there was a man named Romesh who worked as a laborer at the National
Thermal Power Corporation (NTPC). Romesh approached his supervisor, Mr.
Krishnan (a devotee of Swami), and said, “The light in my eyes is fading. I
am going blind.”
The
doctors had told Romesh that surgery would cost 400,000 rupees—an
impossible sum in 1991 for someone earning only 5,000 rupees a month. Mr.
Krishnan remembered Swami’s advice. He didn't know what else to do, so he told
Romesh, “Come with us for Seva. It will help you.”
Romesh
joined the Seva. This is a reminder that Seva is for everyone. It
is an attitude, not a financial status. After a month, Romesh returned to Mr.
Krishnan with amazing news. “Sir, it worked! My eyes haven't gotten better,
but the deterioration has stopped. The moment I started Seva, the darkness
stopped spreading.”
Mr.
Krishnan then encouraged him to attend Bhajans. Romesh became
"addicted" to the joy of Bhajans and Seva—the best addiction in the
universe! But Mr. Krishnan was still worried; there was no ophthalmology
department in Puttaparthi at that time. Where could he send Romesh for the
actual cure?
Then
came Mr. Krishnan’s birthday—and as we see in these stories, birthdays are
always part of Swami’s divine plan.
The “Birthday Gift”
from Shankar Netralaya
On Mr.
Krishnan's birthday, he received a phone call from his friend, Ragu. After the
initial greetings, Ragu shared, “I’ve recently become associated with
Shankar Netralaya, a premier eye care institution in India with noble
intentions. Every year, we perform a certain number of free surgeries for the
needy.”
Krishnan’s
heart leaped. He immediately told Ragu about Romesh. Ragu replied, “Consider
it a birthday gift, Krishna. We will take up his case.” Romesh received the
surgery and regained his sight. If you were to ask Romesh how his eyes became
fine, he wouldn't just credit the surgeons; he would say, “I became fine
because of Seva and Bhajan.” Whether it is our physical vision or our
spiritual vision, the cure lies in Bhajans and Seva. They are the
tools that transform the “eye” of the soul.
Mano Phalam: Offering the Fruit
of Desire
This
leads us to Phalam (the fruit). Swami often refers to this as Mano
Phalam or Karma Phalam—the fruit of our desires and actions.
Usually, when we act, we are obsessed with the reward. If it doesn't come, we
immediately question God: “Why are You doing this to me?”
Swami
asks us to give up that expectation and offer the fruit willingly to Him. This
is the true meaning of the Bhagavad Gita's teaching on action. It is not
just that you have no "right" to the fruit, but that you should
willingly offer it to the Lord. As we saw in the play yesterday, enlightenment
comes the moment you stop chasing it. When we offer our desires to Swami, they
no longer become a "burden" or a "headache" for Him.
Patram: The Body as the
Sacred Leaf
Finally,
we come to Patram, the leaf. Swami says the leaf we must offer is
our own body—using every limb in the service of the Divine. But how do we do
this? Do we physically cut ourselves? No. It is about the spirit of sacrifice,
best exemplified by the story of Kannappa Nayanar.
In Sri
Kalahasti, Andhra Pradesh, stands the Vayu Lingam, representing the
element of Air. In the hierarchy of the temple, the Lord is supreme, but there
is one figure placed even above the Lord: the devotee, Kannappa.
This
concept is deeply touching. We say Swami is the ultimate, but for the Lord, the
devotee is ultimate. This is why Swami placed the statue of Hanuman at the
highest point in the Hillview Stadium—to show that the devotee stands on top.
The Pure Worship of a
Hunter
Kannappa
was an illiterate tribal hunter who fell deeply in love with the Lingam. He
didn't know the Vedas or the complex rituals. He tried to mimic the priests he
saw. When they chanted “Sivaya Nama,” he thought they were saying “Washi
Washi” (wash), so he began his own simple worship.
He
brought flowers in his hair, water in his mouth (to pour over the Lingam), and
for food, he offered deer meat roasted in honey. To the world, this looked
profane; to the Lord, it was the most fragrant offering of a “Patram”
(body) and “Pushpam” (heart) ever given.
The Climax of
Kannappa’s Devotion
Every
day, the hunter performed his simple worship. He offered meat, poured water
from his mouth over the Lingam, and placed flowers from his own hair upon it.
In the celestial realm, Mother Parvati asked Lord Shiva, “Lord, the priest
worships you with such decorum, and this hunter worships you so... uniquely.
Whom do you love more?”
Shiva replied, “Let
us see.”
As the
priest was performing his ritual, the eyes of the Shivalinga suddenly opened
and began to bleed. Terrified that he had committed some sacrilege, the priest
ran away. Then came the hunter, Tinan. When he saw the bleeding eye, he did not
hesitate. He plucked out his own eye with an arrow and placed it upon the
Lingam. The bleeding stopped, and the Lord appeared happy.
But the
Lord wished to show the world the depth of Tinan’s love. Soon, the other eye of
the Lingam began to bleed. Tinan did not lament the loss of his remaining
sight. His only concern was: “If I pluck my other eye, how will I know where
to place it?”
To
solve this, he placed his left foot upon the Shivalinga to mark the spot with
his toe. Just as he was about to pluck his second eye, Lord Shiva and Mother
Parvati appeared and stayed his hand. Because of this supreme sacrifice of his
eyes (Kanna), Tinan became known as Kannappa.
Deha Patram: Living for Swami
This is
the essence of Patram—offering the body. In the current age, the
Lord is compassionate; He does not ask for our limbs. Once, a student
emotionally told Swami, “I want to die for You, Swami!” Swami sweetly
replied, “No, Bangaru, just live for Me.”
Dying
for God happens only once, but living for Him is an every-moment task. To offer
our Deha Patram is to offer our energies, our strength, and our habits.
The Three Birthday
Gifts
On His 69th birthday,
Swami directly asked for three gifts:
1.
Give up non-vegetarian food.
2.
Give up smoking.
3.
Give up alcohol and all addictive substances.
People
often debate the nutrition or protein aspect of these choices. But for a
devotee, the reason is simple: “My Swami is happy if I don't do these
things. That is reason enough.”
Whether
it is wearing white, shaving a mustache, or choosing our attire, these aren't
just "rules"—they are acts of love. We do them because Swami likes
it.
Practicing the
Presence
While
seeing Swami in everyone can be difficult, we can practice “imagining Swami
by our side.” Before every interaction—whether with a kind person or a
difficult one—ask yourself: "How would I speak if Swami were standing
right next to me?" That is the true offering of the body and the
senses.
This
brings us to the final element: Toyam (water), the tears of
devotion. For this, let us travel to another birthday—the birthday of Jesus
Christ in December 1998.
The Handkerchief
Competition: A Lesson in Judgment and Grace
In
December 1998, as students, we had a unique privilege. Whenever Swami
materialized Vibhuti for a devotee, the nearest student would run with a
handkerchief to help Swami clean His hand. The hidden motive, of course, was
that you got to keep a handkerchief used by the Divine, which you could then
laminate and place on your altar!
We were
intensely competitive. Three or four of us would scout the Darshan Hall for the
most "devotional faces"—people we judged most likely to receive a
miracle. We would sit opposite them, handkerchiefs ready. One day, my
assessment was "bang on." Swami materialized Vibhuti for the
person in front of me. I rushed forward, Swami wiped His hand, and I began
handing out paper for the devotee to store the sacred ash.
The Angel and the
Devil: A Choice of the Heart
After
the miracle, the devotee asked for my handkerchief. Immediately, two voices
began arguing in my head. In real life, the “angel” and the “devil” don't have
wings or horns; they both sound like your own voice. One said, “Give it to
him; he is the recipient of the grace.” The other said, “No! He got the
Vibhuti, which is shareable. This handkerchief is mine, and it isn't shareable!”
I listened to the second voice and walked away with my prize. But after
Darshan, as everyone left for snacks and tea, I saw that devotee still sitting
there in deep meditation. My conscience pricked me. I went back, tapped his
shoulder, and dropped the handkerchief into his lap. As I watched from behind a
pillar, he clutched that cloth to his heart and began to weep with pure,
unadulterated joy. I felt a strange sense of fulfillment.
The Law of Return:
December 22nd
The
very next day, a group from New Zealand arrived. Again, I sat near a
devoted-looking person. Again, Swami materialized Vibhuti. I offered my
handkerchief, but this time, Swami didn't throw it back to me. He walked ahead.
I thought one of the New Zealanders had stolen it!
I
looked at Swami, pleading with my eyes. He walked about ten feet, stopped,
turned around with a mischievous smile, and shook His leg. The handkerchief
dropped to the floor. He had held it between His toes and dragged it under His
robe all that way!
I was
thrilled. This cloth hadn't just touched His hand; it had been under His Divine
Feet. As I clutched it, the fragrance was so overwhelming that tears
automatically sprang to my eyes. I sat there weeping in joy. Then it struck me:
24 hours earlier, I had given a handkerchief to a man and made him weep with
joy. Now, 24 hours later, Swami was giving a handkerchief to me and making me
weep with the exact same joy. What goes around, truly comes around.
Ananda Darshanam: The Tears of Joy
This is
the Toyam—the water—that we must offer: our tears of joy. Whether
you start with Deha Patram (body), Hridaya Pushpam (heart), Mano
Phalam (desire), or Ananda Darshanam (tears), just start somewhere.
The other three will follow.
Even if
you feel you are just “pretending” or being mechanical, keep going. As Swami
says: “Pretend to do good, you will tend to do good, and you will end up
doing good.”
The Challenge of the Sai
Satcharitra
I once
felt a deep spiritual emptiness. My wife, Pooja, suggested I read the Sai
Satcharitra (the life of Shirdi Sai) over seven days. I was skeptical. I
thought, “Why read Shirdi Sai when I have Sathya Sai right here?” and “Is
this just a business transaction with God?” But I agreed, praying to Shirdi
Baba: “I want a connection with Swami.”
My
reading began roughly. I was judgmental, criticizing the writing style of
Hemadpant and pointing out typos. But as the days went by, the mechanical act
of reading began to transform into something deeper...
The Transformation:
From Criticism to Connection
At the
end of my first day of reading the Sai Satcharitra, my wife, Pooja,
asked me how I was feeling. I was blunt. I said, “The book needs to be
redone. There are too many errors, typos, and grammatical mistakes.” She
looked at me and said, “Arvind, that is not the spirit in which you read
sacred text.” But I couldn't help it; my mind was still in “editor mode.”
I
continued mechanically through day two, three, four, and five. On the seventh
day, Pooja prepared Sheera and all of Shirdi Baba’s favorite dishes. We
performed Aarti. When she asked again how I felt, I simply said, “Fine.
I feel the same.”
I left
for work at the studio in Prasanthi Nilayam. As I walked past the Sarva Dharma
garden—near the statue of Jesus—something inexplicable happened. Even now, as I
recount it, I can feel that same energy rising.
Suddenly,
tears began to stream down my face. Not tears of sadness, but an overwhelming,
effortless surge of love. My colleague, Prem Anush, saw me and asked, “Arvind,
what happened? Did Swami call you? Did something happen in the Mandir?” I
couldn't even speak. All I could feel was: “Swami, I love You. I don't want
a dream, I don't want Vibhuti, I don't want a miracle. I just love You.”
That
feeling of pure, divine connection lasted for four hours. I couldn't work; I
just sat there bathed in His presence.
The Power of the
Divine Story
In
those four hours, I realized the power of the Leelas (Divine stories) of
the Lord. Language doesn't matter. Grammar doesn't matter. Typos don't
matter. When you engage with the story of the Divine, the Lord Himself takes
over.
I felt
a deep sense of humility. I thought, “Swami, I read that book so
mechanically, with so much judgment and so little faith, yet Your compassion is
so vast that You showered me with this love anyway. If I had done it with true
devotion, what would the impact have been?”
Our Centennial
Offering
This is
the thought I wish to leave with you all today. We have traveled from afar; we
have marched in processions and sung Bhajans. Sometimes, it may feel
mechanical. Do not be discouraged—Swami blesses us even for our mechanical
efforts.
However,
if we can consciously offer our Hridaya Pushpam (the flower of
our heart), our Mano Phalam (the fruit of our desires), and our Deha
Patram (the sacrifice of our daily lives), then we won't even need to
try to offer Ananda Darshanam (tears of joy). Those tears will
stream continuously on their own as a natural response to His love.
Dearest
Swami, on Your 100th Birthday, may we be worthy of offering these four gifts.
In return, we ask only that the love we have for You in our hearts keeps
growing stronger with every passing moment.
Thank
you. Jai Sairam.
Source:
100th Birthday Celebrations - Morning Program | SSSIO
Note on this
Transcript
This text was
refined from a video-recorded address by Aravind Balasubramanya given on November 23,
2025. To ensure the preservation of the Divine message while maintaining
professional clarity, the original transcript was organized and edited for flow
and grammar with the assistance of AI technology (Gemini), acting as a
humble instrument in the service of the Lord.
