Sai Baba on Book-Learning

(A short Essay)

As a young woman, I was very impressed with intellectualism.  I would read many esoteric texts and think I was very informed.  The more obtuse, the more challenged I was to parrot the contents.  Happily, getting married and raising a family quickly revealed that book-learning could not save me from mundane reality, nor raise me to the heights of bliss.

Our Beloved Lord, Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba said, “Reading is not enough, you may master all the commentaries and you may be able to argue and discuss with great scholars about these texts; but without attempting to practice what they teach, it is a waste of time.  I never approve of book-learning; practice is what I evaluate.”

When my three children were small, all born within a year of each other, I had not heard or read about Sai Baba.   Due to my increased commitments, I had little time to read.  This turned out to be a boon, however. I had to re-educate myself.

According to Puttaparthi Swami, the Embodiment of Love, “Education is no book-worm affair; the process must include the study and appreciation of all trades, professions and guilds. It must encourage the acceptance of the good and the rejection of the bad.  Spiritual education is not a distinct and separate discipline; it is part and parcel of all types and levels of education.  In fact, it is the very foundation on which a lasting edifice can be built.”

When I encountered these words, later in life, I saw the flaws in the system of education that I had been exposed to.  Everything was based on grades and grades alone.  Those with the highest scores were the winners.  But Sathya Sai Baba was teaching something entirely different.

He also noted, “There are two evil sirens that entice youth into futility and frivolity, diverting them along the paths of ruin.  One of them is called Dame Cinema and the other is named Dame Novel.  The film contaminates and corrupts; it pollutes young and innocent minds; it teaches crime, violence and greed; it destroys the basic humanness and degrades it into bestiality.  Even ochre-robed monks are steadily dragged down to sin by its insidious influence.”

And there I was, a child of Hollywood and TV star worship.  No wonder I was unprepared for the challenges of family life.  These “stars” smoked, drank, partied, indulged in endless cosmetic surgery, and dressed like dolls.

Our nearest and dearest, ever-forgiving and understanding Lord, said, “You read these great books, the Ramayana and the Bhagavata Gita many times for they are now easily available at a cheap cost.  But what proof can you give for having profited by the hours that you have spent with them?  To digest the food you have taken you have to engage in some physical activity.  To digest the lessons that you imbibe through holy company or through the study of great books, practice them in daily life.”

By the Grace of Guru Sai, my focus in maturity is practice, practice, practice…..

Picking up Ratna’s coffin

Picking up Ratna’s coffin was certainly a different experience.  In Bengaluru you can buy a coffin on the side of the road.  In this case it was a back alley off the Commercial-Street area which is famous for its little-hole-in-the-wall shops where you can bargain for everything from glass bangles to pure gold earrings, from one-piece bathing suits with long sleeves and pants that literally cover your calves to black lace G-strings the size of rubber bands!

Ratna was going to have a Catholic burial because when she arrived at Jyothi Seva Home she had already been baptized. Often accused of proselytizing and converting orphaned children, Sister Agata used to reply quite vehemently to whichever know-it-all happened to be attacking her. Once, she explained her position to me.

“Okay!  Okay!” She was screaming in her native Polish, her blue eyes rolling behind large glasses, her plump face blushing with anger, the black wooden rosary beads around her ample waist swinging back and forth over her traditional grey wool habit, her matching head cover slipping off to one side.

“We do baptize the ones we find in the rubbish bins, the ones with no identity whatsoever.  Is this a crime?  I say, let these families come forward and tell us what religion their throw-away-babies are.  We will gladly raise them in the religion of their birth. In fact, if the people who are so damned concerned about us raising  some of our kids as Catholics want, they can come on over and adopt them.  I say, come on over!  You take care of them for the next 20 years.  It’s okay with me! You are welcome!” 

Rarely, though, some of the Jyothi Seva children did get parents who loved and cared for them. During the years that Ratna lived in the home, one Polish woman volunteer, who happened to be blind herself, got permission to adopt a blind baby.  It was a very complicated procedure—partly because in India adoption requires that the child have two parents.  Since Wanda, the adoptive mother was single, the first answer she got from the court was, “No.”

But, believe it or not, there is a little-used law in India which allows for a handicapped person to adopt a child.  However, it still took a ton of prayers and the intervention of Mother Teresa, who sent many abandoned blind babies from Calcutta, now Kolkata, to the Jyothi Seva nuns, before Wanda could keep the child she had been taking care of since it was three weeks old.  Meanwhile, finding homes for sighted orphan children, particularly girls, remains a national problem.

On a few occasions a blind baby would arrive with a family member and be legally handed over to the nuns with instructions indicating which faith the child was to be raised in.  So at Jyothi Seva there were Hindu, Muslim, and Catholic children; and the non-Catholics were given regular instruction in their own religion, by qualified outside teachers. 

But Ratna, having worn a Catholic body for 8 years meant that body could be buried at Holy Family Cemetery.  The nuns did not want her body cremated, as is the general practice in over-crowded Bengaluru.  For those of us attached to her physical presence, this meant there was more time to bid farewell, if you will. We could have a wake, a funeral Mass, and a burial ceremony. But we knew that Ratna, Holy Little Ratna, could never be disposed of.

Still dressed in my flaming red sari and purple blouse I set out to help with the many chores surrounding Ratna’s death. There was no time to change, practically no time to think. I had routinely engaged Kaleem, an auto rickshaw driver who I had known for years, to help me pick up the coffin that Sister Agata had ordered by phone in the morning.  It was supposedly going to be ready at nine p.m.   Kaleem was a genius when it came to locating the most-difficult-to-find addresses and then having a photographic memory of routes he had taken to get you there. So once visited, you could count on him to be able to take you back to any spot.

You said things like:  Imitation alligator briefcase, or orange shoes with butterflies, and he remembered where you had purchased them; and in a flash he’d spin the rickshaw around and deliver you to the door of the exact shop you were hoping to find.  One of his neighbors had a phone and whenever I was going to Bengaluru I would call the number Kaleem had given me and leave a pidgin-Hindi message.  Puttaparthi Madam, bus standah, sevenah morningka!  I was understood; and as sure as the sun rises, Kaleem would be waiting for me at Majestic, or at the Railway Station, depending on how I had come into the city.

What’s more, he had known the Jyothi Seva children for nearly as many years as I had, since he became my rickshaw driver shortly after I had met Sisters Agata and Adella one day on Mahatma Gandhi Road when I heard them speaking my mother tongue and I ran over to introduce myself.  Kaleem loved the children and they loved him.  The nuns adored him too and they counted on him to help them out during the days when I wasn’t using him to get around town.  In fact, he was basically employed by a few special long-time customers, the Jyothi Seva nuns, and me.

At 38, he looked much older because of his many wrinkles and his bushy grey hair. But the perpetual smile on his face, due in part to his slightly bucked teeth, gave him a cheerful visage.  He was polite, eager to share a joke and probably the most honest and hard-working man I have ever had the good fortune to meet.  He was the only wage earner in a family of one son, two daughters and a wife.  They lived in a tiny one-room, ground-floor flat in a row of such dwellings.  The home was so clean it literally shone.

All Kaleem’s children were going to school, a fact that he was quite proud of because he paid the school fees out of his own earnings.  His wife was a Christian who Kaleem, a Muslim, had happily married.  Theirs was a non-traditional “love” marriage, and it had worked.  Their affection for each other was obvious and to be in their company made you feel content.

The one window in their home was draped with a pale-blue satin fabric that shimmered like water. The same fabric acted as a curtain on the ever-open-to-the-street doorway. As poor as the family was, the members were always happy to share whatever they had with neighbors, friends and the many visitors who stopped by. Often Kaleem’s wife would cook mutton biriyani for me, and occasionally a most-delicious fish dish.  

Therefore, Kaleem and I—though from two very different worlds, had found that we had two things, in common—mutual respect for each other and a desire to serve the Jyothi Seva children. So we were both heavy-hearted as we set out to pick up Ratna’s coffin. This time all we had to go by were the shop owner’s instructions given to Sister Agata over the telephone, and the address: Shed number six, behind the bicycle shop, three streets parallel behind Jewelry Street in back of the big masjid…..

………to be continued in next instalment of Terry’s Words.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama on faithfulness

A friend just called to tell me that her son has cancer.  He is the single father of a four-year-old.  The news has hit him hard.  Yet his mother is strong and there for him and for her grandchild.  Without a support system, without our friends who love us, life would be impossible—at least this is what I believe.  We have responsibilities towards those with whom we co-exist.

According to the Living Buddha, “For human beings, as social animals, it is quite natural for us to love.  We even love animals and insects, such as the bees that collect pollen and produce honey.  I really admire bees’ sense of common responsibility.  When you watch a beehive, you see that those small insects come from far away, take a few seconds’ rest, go inside, and then hurriedly fly away again.  They are faithful to their responsibility.  Although individual bees sometimes fight, there is basically a strong sense of unity and cooperation.  We human beings are supposed to be much more advanced, but sometimes we lag behind even small insects.”

Loyalty is rare. We are too often happy to be friendly with those who make us feel good about ourselves or who financially provide for us.  But when the good times come to a screeching halt, do we stay loyal?

His Holiness, the 14^th Dalai Lama says, “When our fortunes rise, even without friends, we can manage.  But when they go down, we need true friends.  In order to make genuine friends, we ourselves must create an environment that is pleasant.  If we just have a lot of anger, not many people will be drawn close to us.  Compassion or altruism draws friends.  It is very simple.”

Look back over your experiences.  How did you become friends with certain people?  Did you create a pleasing environment when you were together?  Did you put yourself second and the friend first?  Or did you like this person simply because he or she catered to meeting your needs?  Perhaps you are someone who uses people to your own advantage.  If that’s the case, it’s unlikely that you have friends to call on in difficult times. 

“All of the world’s religions emphasize the importance of compassion, love, and forgiveness,” Dalai Lama emphasizes.  “Each may have a different interpretation but, broadly speaking, everyone bases his or her understanding of their own religion on brotherhood, sisterhood, and compassion.  Those who believe in God usually see their love for their fellow human beings as an expression of their love for God.  But if someone says, ‘I love God,’ and does not show sincere love towards his fellow human beings, I think that is not following God’s teaching.  Many religions emphasize forgiveness.  Love and compassion are the basis of true forgiveness.  Without them, it is difficult to develop forgiveness.”

Happily, both the mother and her son have many friends.  And as true friends do, all are working together to uplift the family, to provide the day to day support that is needed and maintaining a positive attitude.

Sai Baba on Christmas

(A short Essay)

Christmas for many of us is more than a celebration of the birth of Lord Jesus.  It is the time of year, perhaps, when we reflect on the impact of the life and teachings of the Master Christ.  The followers of Jesus eventually became known as Christians—practitioners of Christianity, the largest religion in the world, followed by Islam, and then by Hinduism.

According to Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, “The Great Teachers belong to mankind.  It is wrong to believe that Jesus belongs only to the Christians and that Christmas is a Holy festival for the West only.  To accept one of them as one’s own and discard the rest as belonging to others, is a sign of pettiness.  Christ, Rama, Krishna—they are for all men everywhere.”

Though Christmas lights sparkle on all continents and gifts are exchanged as symbols of love, friendship, and duty, how many hearts are full of joy at this time of the year?  How many of us really emulate the actions of Lord Jesus?  Frankly, some days I do.  Other days I don’t.  And the Christmas season can become a tedious round of have-to-attend events, and have-to-do chores.

“Jesus was a master born for a purpose, the mission of restoring love, charity and compassion in the heart of man,” Sai Baba explained.  The mad rush of day-to-day life might make us forget why we were born.  So Christmas is a time to reflect on and to remember the purpose of our own existence, and our own mission as children of God. 

Puttaparthi Sai explained, “Jesus had no attachment to the self; he never paid heed to sorrow or to pain, joy or gain; he had a heart that responded to the call of anguish, the cry for peace and brotherhood.  He went about the land preaching the lesson of love, and poured out his life as a libation in the sacrifice to humanity.”

And, in the words of the Poorna Avatar, Christmas reminds us that we are a world family, “All faiths are inter-related and mutually indebted to each other for the principles they teach, and the disciplines they recommend.  The Vedic Religion was the first in time; Buddhism which appeared about 2,500 years ago was its son; Christianity, which was influenced by the Orient, was its grandson.  And Islam, which has the Prophets of Christianity as its base was like the great-grandson.  All have Love as the fundamental discipline of the mind, in order to chasten it and merge man with the Divine.”

How could the infant born in the humble setting of an animal stable, come to be known throughout the world if not by Divine design?  Sai Baba noted that first Jesus thought of himself as separate from God, next Jesus saw himself as the son of God, but at the end of his Self Realization he said, “I and my Father are One.”  The process of moving from humanity to divinity took rigorous introspection.  According to Sai Baba, “Jesus wandered purposefully in lonely places for 12 long years, engaging himself in study, spiritual exercises and meditation on God.”

His life was certainly his message.