All That Remains is My Sai – Aham Brahmasmi!
All That Remains is My Sai – Aham Brahmasmi!
Mrs. Karuna Munshi, a former student of Sri Sathya Sai University, Anantapur Campus, after a small stint as a lecturer at the same college in Anantapur, served for many years in the Sathya Sai School of Toronto, Canada. In mid-2009 she moved to Puttaparthi and since then has been serving as a volunteer at Radio Sai Global Harmony, Prasanthi Nilayam.
——————————————————————————————————————-
Happiness is union with God. There is no place without God. Whatever you do, you should feel that it is God’s work. God is acting through your body. He is thinking through your mind. He is working through your hands. If you work with this feeling, there is no chance for the ego to arise. The body is lifeless, just matter. The mind is a bundle of desires. It is just imagination. You are not the body; you are not the mind; you are the Atma (soul). – Baba
It was inevitable! I was born, embedded with the Sai chip. My genome map was carved along the Sai path. The Consciousness of the Avatar of the Kali age, Sri Sathya Sai was embedded in my DNA code. That Sai is an integral part of my genetic make-up became apparent when I took a natural plunge towards Him in my early childhood, upon seeing a picture of His. In Swami I found everything my soul was seeking in order to make sense of my existence and its purpose, including the last piece that completed my puzzle. Finally, my search had come a full circle. All seemed well with life once He came in. My quest was over and all questions had been answered.
From then on, I have pretty much lived a Sai-fi, or rather a Sai-hi life; often going through my daily routine, performing my worldly duties, while being high on the Sai awareness at the same time. There is no fiction in this experience, but only a reality that fulfils my consciousness, yet my limited vocabulary fails to describe.
Everyone has their one special moment with Swami. I clearly remember mine and it is was quite un-dramatic compared to the accounts of people where Swami emerged from a wall or made a sudden physical appearance at an off-site location. Yet, this low key but deeply personal connection has continued to characterize my relationship with the Avatar of the Kali age – my personal hero, role model, my mentor, friend, Saichiatrist and the ultimate love and aim of my life – my beloved Sai, my true Self.
It was in July of 1978 at Whitefield that I had my first close darshan of Swami as an impressionable teenager. All I remember is my Mom and I stood in the porch of the college auditorium, waiting for Swami to come out after delivering His summer course Discourse. The volunteer had been unfriendly with us for quite some time and we were desperately hoping for a close encounter despite all her efforts to shoo us away. Somehow, we survived and lingered long enough till He came to the porch to get into the car. There, in that porch, as He walked up towards us, perhaps to take a letter, He came very close to where we stood and looked me straight in the eyes. His powerful gaze peered through me, at something deep within me. It was my Tat Twam Asi (‘I Am That’) moment. My gaze was locked with God’s gaze. He had cast His Divine spell on me and my soul had been awakened in the most sacred and pure way.
A floodgate of emotions just welled up from within me. All I remember was feeling extreme embarrassment – as any self-conscious teenager would – at my inability to stop crying uncontrollably. It wasn’t just few drops of tears flowing down my eyes; I felt an intense need to unburden my soul of something. I had to wash it off with unstoppable tears. I wished the earth would swallow me and somewhere far away from the public gaze, I could just bury my face and cry uninhibited – forever! Strangely, the more I wept, the better I felt. In fact, not just better, but happy, indeed very happy, light and joyous. The connection had been made.
My next close darshan was a ‘car darshan’ at the airport, in our hometown in North India in the summer of 1980. Our flight had just landed and we were surprised to see our entire extended family there to receive us. The welcome was somewhat overwhelming. We soon figured out that they were actually there to have Swami’s darshan as He was leaving by the same plane shortly. So we too joined the line along the road to the tarmac. As His car drove past us, we had another close darshan. A month or so later, I was in Parthi seeking admission in the Arts program at the Anantapur campus of the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning.
The six years I spent at His College and hostel bore a deep impact on my character development and outlook in life. Those years had many highs and lows and the highs centered around close encounters with Bhagavan and the lows hit us when He was away in Whitefield, Kodaikanal or elsewhere, and we were not able to behold Him, hear Him and receive His direct Grace. I must however point out that the education and exposure to Sai values that I received at Anantapur was within a simulated environment where almost everyone was like-minded in their devotion to Swami and His teachings. And surprisingly, despite the conducive environment, it wasn’t that easy to stay on path, razor thin as it has been described by the Vedas.
It was only after six year’s of stay in Anantapur, when I returned home and got married did I really realize how much harder it is to live up to Sai ideals in the outside world. The challenge was to live in the world without letting the world suck me in. I suddenly realized that Swami had now enrolled me in the school of some really hard knocks. Till then, I had been subconsciously programmed to view the world from the Sai lens. Needless to say, my naivety and a serious lack of worldly wisdom proved my biggest challenges. I had so much learning and growing to do. And through my many failures, I learned and continue to learn all the time.
I vividly recall how I had stuck this picture of Swami, inside the back wall of my steel cupboard, which stood in a corner on the balcony of my flat. Every time I wanted a reassurance or needed to reset my internal button, I would step out into my secret corner on the balcony, part my saris on hangers to reveal the Beautiful Form of my Sai with a smile on His lips. I had my private moment with Swami right there, in that corner. My home bore no other image of my Sai at that time. I guess, as they say, the time was not right then. Everything must happen at the right moment; and the right moment continued to elude me.
Embracing such consoling words and holding on to my faith that all would eventually settle down and become “normal”, I continued to pray to Swami to become a wholesome part of my family life, so that I could claim my Sai heritage fearlessly.
