Baba On April 29, 1971

Sai Baba in Whitefield April 29 1971

Ratan Tata, international businessman, visited Swami

Ratan Tata, international businessman, visited Swami

Posted at 14:35:30 Hrs. IST on 05 Dec 2009

Sri Sathya Sai Books & Publication Trust

			Sri Sathya Sai Books & Publication Trust   Posted at 14:35:30 Hrs. IST on 05 Dec 2009
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The man whose business forays with a firm footing on ethics and righteous values made him a legendary figure of international fame, Ratan Tata, made a special entry in Prasanthi Nilayam, the Abode of Peace, on 3rd Dec seeking Bhagawan’s blessings. This is the second visit of Mr. Ratan Tata to Bhagawan, in less than two months. Earlier, during Bhagawan’s recent visit to Mumbai, he was blessed with an audience for forty-five minutes, in Dharmakshetra complex. .

Tata’s Credentials
Mr. Ratan N Tata, who inherited the Tata legacy from legendary JRD Tata, has been chairman of Tata Sons, the Tata promoter company, since 1991, when JRD stepped down after fifty years at the helm. He is also chairman of other Tata companies, including Tata Motors, Tata Steel, Tata Consultancy Services, Tata Power, Tata Tea, Tata Chemicals, Indian Hotels and Tata Teleservices.

The Government of India honoured Mr Ratan Tata with its second highest civilian award, the Padma Vibhushan, in 2008. Earlier, in 2000, he had been awarded the Padma Bhushan. He has also been conferred an honorary doctorate in business administration by the Ohio State University, an honorary doctorate in technology by the Asian Institute of Technology, Bangkok, an honorary doctorate in science by the University of Warwick, and an honorary fellowship by the London School of Economics.

Mr. Ratan Tata serves in senior capacities in various organisations in India and he is a member of the Prime Minister’s Council on Trade and Industry.

In 2009 he was appointed an honorary Knight Commander of the British Empire. …and the list goes…

NITA AMBANI, WIFE OF MUKESH AMBANI, INDIA’S RICHEST BILLIONAIRE

is a devotee of Baba

Leelas 11, 12, 14 About Baba By A Famous Songwriter

Story 11: Without A Leg To Stand On

A young Indian doctor interning in Africa returned home to his native land.
While on vacation he heard talk of a Divine Being giving Darshan. Being Hindu by birth but a scientist by nature, he skeptically went to visit this Holy Man. He was given extraordinary closeness, and the Holy Man’s fame had not yet spread around the world, as it would in a few short years. This is the story as related to me by Dr. Gottia.

“I left India to return to my internship in an African hospital”, he told this group of people who had come from all over Southern California to hear him talk.
“I had spent a week or so with a Holy Man in India, but was unimpressed with his small body and extra large crown of hair. When I left his small Ashram, I didn’t give him another thought.
One morning, I received an emergency call for a doctor in a small village, many, many miles from the hospital. It was my turn to take the call, and I did.
While out on the road a great force, in the form of gusts of wind, rolled my vehicle over. The vehicle was turned upside down with my legs pinned inside and I was unable to move.
As the sun set, I prepared myself for a long night ahead, with the hope in the morning I would be missed and eventually rescued.

When I was a small boy of eight or so I used a broom as my crutch and I would pretend I had lost a leg and hobble on the broom. I never thought this was odd behavior, even after I had grown into adulthood. For this lingering fear of losing my leg was somehow inside me. The only reason I am mentioning this is because of the strange and wonderful intersection that occurred after meeting Dr. Gottia!

Morning came and went on the African plains. The afternoon I spent pinned upside down with all the feelings in my legs gone.
As a doctor, I had the objective view that unless I was rescued soon, my legs would soon be useless.
When two black bushmen approached the car, early that evening, I felt my ordeal was over, but I wouldn’t know for sure if the blood stoppage in my legs would cause me to forever be without them. They pulled me out of the car, and in English told me not to worry, my legs would be alright. They put me on the side of the road and said an ambulance would be by and take me back to the hospital. Which happened in a short while.
I was told I was lucky, that a few hours more and my legs would have had to have been amputated.
So, when I had sufficiently recovered from my injuries, I took a leave, and flew back to be with my family in India.

My friend, Stephen, was in a terrible funk that afternoon. He had received some bad financial news and I felt it imperative to take him out to a great restaurant that would lift his spirits. But our way was blocked! Every street leading to the restaurant was unusually crowded. My patience was wearing thin on the congested Los Angeles streets. So I decided, instead of going north where the place was, I would do as the yogis do and go where the resistance is least.
Even if it’s in the opposite direction! So that’s what I did. Matter of fact, as I was on the freeway going west, the idea of going to that particular place had all but left my mind. But it hadn’t. I veered off the freeway and headed back north again on city streets. Finally I pulled across the street from the restaurant!

The Doctor decided to pay one more visit to the Holy Man; being very grateful to God for his good luck, he thought this would be a good gesture.
“So you’ve come back, and no worse for wear?” said Sai Baba, without being told anything of his ordeal. “Lucky for you two black tribesman showed up, who just happened by that deserted road where your car had overturned! What do you make of that, doctor?,” He said and smiled. “How do you think it’s possible for me to have known this?” Baba said, describing the physical attributes of the Africans as well as their outer garments. “You think this puny little form of mine is all there is to ME,” he chided him, showing that he knew his secret thoughts! “I’m not limited to this one body, I am all bodies, and in all things”. “Can you scientifically comprehend that, doctor?” he said.
“It has now been 30 years, and I have been able to comprehend a very small piece of Sai Baba!” he said.
When the Doctor had finished telling this story, pictures were taken with each person, and I had one taken as well. A few days later I received my print and stuck it in the glove compartment of my car. Thinking it was out of the way, to avoid the clutter of photos that were scattered about in my drawers.

I sighed with relief at finding a meter on the street, and started to open my car door. I opened the door and began to swing my leg out when I stopped to look over at Stephen to see if he was okay. In a split second, a speeding truck came and took the door off. The force of the impact forced open the glove compartment, and a picture flew out onto my lap. In momentary shock, not knowing what had actually happened, I could only remember hearing a terribly loud noise! I noticed the door wasn’t there and I could hear metal banging as it was being dragged away by the truck, before it came to a stop.
An indescribable feeling and thought raced thru my body and mind. My leg should have been taken off! Stephen asked me if I was alright. I said I was!
I looked down at this picture on my lap of me and Dr. Gottia!

 Story 12: An Interview

It was on my second visit in 1987 to see Sai Baba that I was granted a private conversation with Him. These were called interviews. Almost everyday Baba would choose a group of people, from all over the world, to talk personally with him, to get advice, or ask for His help in matters ranging from personal health, needing a wife or job, money and rarely enough spiritual guidance… You couldn’t make an appointment to speak with Him. Presidents and movie stars, taxi drivers, simple village folk were all treated the same at this time… He did the choosing! Everyone wanted this interview, but I was very frightened by the thought of it.

Baba usually asked people, “What do you want?” and I really didn’t know. I knew I didn’t want to be forced into a situation where I would talk like a parrot out of fear and say “I want Enlightenment! Enlightenment over good health or wealth.” I didn’t know what I wanted. That night he came to me in a dream and said “I know you’re frightened, don’t be. I will show you right now everything that will take place in the interview. And I won’t ask you any questions!” He told me two people were flying in from Los Angeles, Dave and Barbara Lambert. After they had been there for a few days, he would ask our group in for a talk!

True to the dream – that’s what took place.
I held the door open to the small interview room and let everyone from our Los Angeles group, as well as a large group of Indians go in first. It numbered around forty or so. As I sat in the back of the room hiding myself, I couldn’t understand how so many people can fit in such a tiny room…I heard from others who had been in there, that up to 150 people had fit inside … He was dressed in his usual attire, a long orange robe, he sat on a chair and began to sing a song to us, ‘Love is my Form, Truth is my name, Bliss is my food’. Peeking out from behind someone’s back, He called me, not by name, but with his hand beckoning to come sit directly in front of Him. I felt as if my cover had been blown. He asked me if I would please massage His feet for Him. (In Hindu lore to touch the feet of an enlightened Master is called padnamascar and it is a highly sought after event as it is supposed to cleanse your sins in His light). I began to gently massage His feet while He asked questions of certain people. How is the new baby, or how is the job going? I watched as suddenly He waved His hand and out of nowhere a gold pen appeared. I was no more than 10 inches from his empty hand as it took form. He showed it to me and asked if I liked it. Let me tell you at this point I had made a promise to myself that I didn’t want or wouldn’t take anything material from Him…I was looking for the Truth and didn’t want anything else…My group gasped thinking the pen was for me as he handed it to me…I looked at it intently and handing it back to him I said it looked like very good workmanship. No,no he said, the thing is it will never run out of ink and he laughed heartily. He gave it to an Indian student that sat at His left, and patted his cheek.

“I hope your penmanship and grades will improve, now”, he said, or the pen will come back.

He ‘created’ a packet of blue pills with a wave of his hand that he threw to one of the ladies in our group. He whispered to me she did not know it, but she was going to have terrible stomach pains later in the day, and we should give her these pills along with fresh mango. “After 3 days she will be alright”, He told me. About ten minutes after the interview, Jenny collapsed.

He invited a group of 6 people, 4 Americans including myself, and an Indian couple to go into another adjoining smaller room, separated by a simple curtain. While the larger group waited, Baba pulled back the curtain and we sat down on the floor next to Him. He was staring at me like an impatient schoolteacher waiting for me to say something! I had looked at the other people sitting there with me, but like my experience with Elvis, they didn’t seem to be alive, like cardboard… I suddenly remembered this part in my dream that I had had with Baba. And felt excited, like an actor who had just remembered his forgotten lines…
“May I ask you a question?” I said, “Yes, what is it?” It looked to me like relief flashed across Baba’s face. Like the director of the play was saying, “It’s about time, Man!”
“What do You see when You see me?”, I asked?
Baba gave a warm smile -looked directly into my eyes and replied “I see only Light and Love”. This reply seemed to awaken everyone else up as I suddenly disappeared into a state of inner joy and bliss, and did not hear anything else that was said till we rejoined the larger group.
Baba manifested packets of Vibuthi (a sacred ash that symbolizes the finality of the body-and has life saving healing properties) for everyone and He walked everyone out the door but me. The door closed and He stood in front of me for what seemed like an eternity, suddenly smiling at me He says, “Yes, what is it?”
(I said I didn’t want any material thing from Baba but I realized my resolve had completely weakened at this point, and my mind was saying get something, get something! ) I smiled and showed him my small street bought, inexpensive silver ring that had a picture of Sai Baba on it, that had recently broken. Now, 20 minutes ago I watched him blow his breath on someone’s ring that was handed to Him and an entirely different one manifested….That’s what my mind was going for now!
I said coyly “Baba, look at this ring, what shall I do with it?” He took the broken ring in his Hand and looked at it intently and delivered a punch line I never expected. “If I were you I’d keep it,” He said.
I nearly exploded in laughter, but contained myself. I realized He had helped me keep the promise I made to myself to not ask for tinsel and trash, as He walked me out the door, and I felt the warm sunlight disappear into a greater sunlight within me.

Story 14: The Sign Of The Grape

 

I took with me to India, a Yamaha acoustic guitar for the first time, on this visit to see Sai Baba.

When I arrived in Bangalore, I heard that Swami had gone to KodaiKanal, an old British station

in the northern hill mountains, and so I arranged for transportation by plane and car to get there…

Swami was using a private house with large grounds to give His darshan every morning and afternoon and I was fortunate to get lodgings in a private house where Swami used to stay himself and rent a room for my stay.

It’s one of the most beautiful spots on Earth, and Indians go there in spring to get married and honeymoon. There was a beautiful lake with lotus’ floating on top and Indians renting small boats to enjoy its tranquil beauty.

Sathya Sai Baba Leelas 8, 9, and 10 With A Famous Songwriter

Story 8: Caveman

In Northern Oregon, near Grant’s Pass, on a large plot of land called Enchanted Acres lives a Doctor Wilma Bronkey and her husband Fred.  Dr. Bronkey worked with handicapped children for 30 years and developed a system as to how to get thru to them with the love they need for healing.
Every July 4th, for the past ten years, they invited people to come bring tents and sleep out on the land and watch enchanted things happen. They invited a few speakers every year and I received a letter asking if I would be one of them.

I was feeling like a curmudgeon, low on money and energy when I got her request. I simply wrote it off in my mind, and planned to sit down and write her a “regrettably not” letter.
You know when you’re supposed to be somewhere, you’re going to be there whether you know it or not. I didn’t know it.

The first chain of events started with my receiving a CD of songs from The Flintstones TV show. I had been in a surf band in my early youth. A song I had written was recorded by James Darren and used for the TV show. It was on this CD. Included was a small check from the record company. On the cover of the CD were Fred and Wilma, Barney and Pebbles. Cavemen and women.
Okay. I thought that was a fun surprise, but I had no way of knowing how it was attached to Wilma’s July 4th shindig. Though, Wilma (and Fred) should have been my first clue.

Without warning, an ex-girlfriend and I got together and decided to fly to San Francisco for the weekend. She wanted to show me where she used to live etc. etc.
We walked along the Castro district and found an old record shop. We walked in and I immediately went to work combing thru the stacks of old LPs looking for a rare Gene Vincent or Beatles release from Germany or England, when she came across an LP that had one of my recordings on it. It was called “Golden Nuggets Vol. 5” and contained my song and vocal of The Grass Roots’ hit, ‘Where Were You When I Needed You’. I bought it and took it home, and one evening I began to read the liner notes. They said every song on this LP was a national hit but one, and for some reason everyone who was involved in the project felt it should be included on the LP. It was a local hit in Boston by a group called Edison Lighthouse, I believe. It was a song about July 4th and the girl he loved was named Wilma and what a good time they used to have! Clues 2 and 3.

C’mon, is it just me, or does it seem incredible to you? Or are you a callused spiritual seeker yourself and all these phenomenon seem to you like ho hum!
Okay, sometimes a building has to fall on me to get it.

I drive up to Oregon, Grant’s Pass, and just a few blocks from Wilma’s place is this huge statue of a …… Caveman!

STORY 9: Give Me A Brake

“I had bought myself a small economical Hyundai to get around in, you know. The car worked well, the only problem was that it was constantly being burglarized for its radio,. It was costing me $80 a pop to replace it, and it was getting to be too much. When it happened again, I cried out to Sai Baba, “What am I doing wrong

Baba said, “All children are mine! The thieves pray to me for help to get something to feed their family and what am I to do? I must answer their prayer even though they must pay for the consequences of their bad actions. I tell you this, unless one gives to charity with a full and open heart, all your money will go to either thieves, doctors, lawyers or to taxes! So, do what you will, you have been told”.
I decided that day to start giving though it seemed like there are so many, I lovingly gave what I could. Coincidentally, the thieves stopped breaking into his car after that and he enjoyed relative safety.
On another evening, I was visited again in a dream by Shirdi Sai Baba. Baba said in the dream, “I am protecting you and not to worry, I will let you know when there is any danger with the car.” “I had been worried about the brakes”, I know I needed new ones but I just couldn’t afford them. I was saving up as best I could, and hoping they’d hold up. One day they started squeaking so badly, I had to bring the car into a mechanic. The mechanic came into the waiting room where I was sitting and looked ghastly. His face was pale and he was truly troubled! “Look here, mate, what kind of joke are you trying to pull then”? I hadn’t a clue as to what he was upset about and tried to tell him so. When he calmed down some and realized this wasn’t a gag, he took me into the garage and under my car and showed me my brakes, or rather lack of them. He stood there astonished and said, “Look, your car hasn’t any brakes at all, I mean none! He said “How did you get here”, thinking if it wasn’t a joke, it came by tow truck, but I tried to tell him I honestly didn’t know anything about it. I said I’d been driving around for six months or so, even though I knew I needed a brake job! The mechanic seemed to start believing my story. When I told him I couldn’t afford a complete brake job, he took up a collection and said, “You’re not leaving here without new brakes”, he said, “It’s on the house, son”!”

 

Story 10: Doesn’t Compute

Four state-of-the-art laptop computers were delivered to my front door apartment in Venice, one afternoon in 1995. There were two odd things about this occurrence. One was I didn’t order any computers and the other was I didn’t order any computers! My name was on the invoice and so was the service number, so I gave the company a call!
‘Hi” I said, “I just got 4 computers delivered to my door and…..”. I was interrupted by the voice on the other end of the phone. ” Yes, Mr. Sloan, and we’re so sorry that it’s taken so long. The two computers you ordered were stolen en route to your apartment, so we had to replace them with two others”, he said. “Oh, that’s alright”, I said. “How much did they cost?” I asked. “Well” he said, “Along with the 5-year warranty, they’re about $2,400 a piece!” “Okay” I said. “And who placed the order for these, and how were they paid for?” I asked. He gave me the name of a person I had never heard of and said they were fully paid for. I felt it my duty to ask at least a dozen times if they had the right Mr. Sloan, and the right address. But each time I tried to tell them there was some mistake, the guy on the phone would say there had been no mistake; “We’re just sorry your two computers took so long to arrive”. I hung up the phone like a thief.

I kept them in their boxes for weeks, expecting the call from the company asking for them back, but when a month went by, I opened a box up and took a look at a neat 286 Zenith running Windows 3.1 with a B & W screen and floppy drive! I hadn’t had any computer experience before, but it seemed to come naturally. User-friendly, really!

Now this writer friend of mine, unbeknownst to me, had been writing stories and scripts for years on a really antique computer. It had crashed and burned long ago. The information locked frozen. There was only way to get the info out; he said he needed the same Zenith computer as his, but a higher upgrade, which mine was! So voilà, he got the first computer as a gift!

Meanwhile in India, a devotee and woman friend of mine by the name of Diane was talking with Sai Baba. “When am I going to get a computer so I can do an overseas letter for people, Baba?” she asked. “Soon,” Baba said. “One of those old Indian computers?” she asked”. “Oh no” Baba said, “State-of-the-art American!”

I got the call from Swami that it was time for me to go over to India again and spend time with Him and so I took with me one of the computers to write down my experiences with.
Upon arriving at the Ashram in Brindavan, Baba was already giving Darshan. I stood outside the grounds and saw Him sitting in a chair on a stage. At that moment I heard this name pop into my mind in a huge echo. It said “Diane”.
I thought, “Diane. Who’s that? The name of a woman I’m going to meet, or what?”
After Darshan, the first person I run into is my friend Diane from Los Angeles.
She sees the computer I’m carrying and says, “Is that for me?” I stopped dead in my tracks, and thought inside my head, “Is this computer for Diane?” “Why yes” I said, “How did you know?” So there went the second computer.

If you’re thinking this is too fantastic to believe, and it never happened, that I’m making this whole story up… just let me tell you now, it’s true, okay! Get over it!

I didn’t like computers really. I mean they were out in 1990, and even earlier, but I didn’t feel attracted to them, actually I wanted nothing to do with them, don’t ask me why. I don’t know!
The third computer went to a storyteller in Los Angeles named Michael. He didn’t know I had a computer, he just told me he needed one to keep track of all the stories he was collecting about Afro-American folk tales. He entertains children all over the world now with his stories and has been written up in many newspapers.
I kept the 4th for a while until it broke on me. But the way that Swami worked out how it got repaired is a leela for another time….
-by a famous songwriter-

7 Leelas Of Sathya Sai Baba

 

-experienced by a famous songwriter-

Story 1: The Buddha In The Cave
I first met him on a dusty side street in a small South Indian town in 1989. His name I can’t recall, though we spent almost 10 days talking and walking together. Names just seemed unimportant to me at the time. So, for the purpose of this story, which I swear is true, or at best, true as he related these events and facts to me, I will call him James.

James was from Australia. Five feet 10 inches tall, with the build of a Roman legionnaire. His eyes were steely blue, his hair sandy blonde, and he bore a resemblance not only facially to Richard Burton, the English actor and infamous husband of Elizabeth Taylor, but in his rapier tongue and wit. Which he used with a rapid fire delivery that struck its target mercilessly. He was called to this little village-town, as I was, by The Great Spiritual Teacher, Sathya Sai Baba. James had been there at His Ashram for six months, I was only there for a few weeks before we met, or rather ‘put together’.

James was an actor. He had been on the stage in numerous plays, and films, and knew the inward game of self-discipline. As we were walking along an oxcart path, in the back roads from the main drag of the town, we found a cool spot out of the 110 degree heat, near a small mud lake by some tall grass. We sat on the side of the mud banks and began a conversation. I asked him what his life was like in Australia and if he knew what life was about in reality. He sat looking at the sky for a while and then related this story to me of his search in China for the purpose of life.

James felt that at 38, if the curtain of life were to fall down at this point, it wouldn’t really matter to him. Life was a cosmic comedy, random events with little or no meaning and with no purpose. I agreed intellectually, with this theory. In his searching and inquiries into the meanings of life, he could sum it up in a word, meaningless. He was bored with the play, and the games, and all that the world held. Coming to Puttaparthy, he said, was the only salve on his wounded soul, but he felt that it couldn’t last.

We sat and talked by the side of this small mud lake about a mile or so from the one-street main drag that was Puttaparthy. In Telegu, the predominant language in the state of Andhra Pradesh, the name means ant hill. But, a hundred or so years ago it was called by another name. Due to a long-lasting dust storm and drought condition, the town and its water began to dry up and huge ant mounds formed, hence its name means the town of Ant Hills. A Great Holy Teacher was born in this little village, and was drawing millions of people to Him. Our lives were dried up, like those ant hills, and so here we were.

I won’t indulge in my own story because I feel it is away from the point. I will say that everyone’s story in the search for the purpose of life is intriguing, mine as well. But, while James’s story is fresh in my memory, and it is filled with thrilling divine interventions, I want only to relate his story, and I have not imposed my thoughts or feelings to the best of my ability on the story as it was related to me.

Being a successful actor in Sydney meant stage work and film work, beautiful women, parties on his yacht and enough money to satisfy his every luxurious desire. As I mentioned before, James was more than a just a student of the game. Years of practice in acting which he took as serious fun gave him an inner instinct into other people’s attitudes, postures, actions, and desires. He related to me in a master—student relationship style, condescending but mesmerizing to me. He was a formidable thinker and talker. He told me the women were always predictable. The game was off. Like a king lion. The hunt had lost its thrill. His ability to see thru it all was beginning to bore him to death and he was drinking alcohol more and more every night. He said it occurred to him to take a trip to China and seek spiritual enlightenment if there was such a thing. He put it off for months and months as just an amusement or escape for his mind, but it gradually increased in urgency. One day he told his friends he had purchased an airline ticket and took off for China. Just like that!

A few oxen came closer to get a better look at us. Their gentle eyes and tails swishing. You don’t realize how large they are till you see them roaming free. Every now and then a breeze. Like a huge weight being lifted off your lungs. He told me he walked whenever he could across China. Backpacking, for a year or so. Meeting all kinds of new characters. But, they too, began to become boring. He slept in the open whenever he could just for the sheer exhilaration of it. The cool night air, and the plenarious stars. Small rooms for rent were plentiful in every town and village but being a westerner always aroused his sense of paranoia. His timepiece alone would bring any robber a years worth of groceries, a bike, or his own piece of land. Never staying too long in one place, he visited monasteries, and temples. Talked with priests and peasants alike, all to no avail in breaking thru the mental eggshell that had become his reality.

It was, during what would be his last week in China, he told me, that something extraordinary occurred. Exhausted, and nearly out of money, in a small room on the border of Tibet, he contemplated suicide, and cried for nearly three days, until he heard a knock at his door. A small peasant man dressed in black, said, “You come with me”. James said that at any other time in his life he would have thought, “Who do you think you’re kidding? You want me to come with you so you can take my rings and watch and camera and have a nice life, huh, buddy? Leave me dead and buried in some nice out of the way place, right mate?” I might need to explain here that many times people had asked James to come with them to see miracles or something they thought he was looking for. Time and time again he would go only to see a show or charade put on for him for money’s sake. He was used to and bored with the ruse. “Who are you?” he asked. “What do you want, and who told I was here?” The Chinese man replied, “I have come to give you what you have been searching after!”

The man dressed in black asked him if he had the courage to enter a cave at the top of a mountain where it was-said-the-Spirit-of-the-Buddha-resided.
And if he had, enlightenment was granted to such a person.

James thought it was because of pride and the idea of going home with nothing to show for it save empty souvenirs that he agreed to follow the man the next evening. But on further thought, he said it was due to this fiery quest that had brought him there in the first place. Or resignation over the boredom of his life and perhaps an acceptance of an anonymous and meaningless death in China.

The man came for him just before sunset the next evening. James didn’t tell me anything about how he was feeling during the day. The reader can imagine how they might feel, by coming into contact with the possibility of certain death, or the last hope of attaining something meaningful from life.
They walked thru the dusty dirt streets out into the farm areas and then further still till there were was only a-large-expanse-of-hills-and-mountains.

As they began to climb, James told me that he was suddenly sure that this was a ruse. With every step he climbed he saw the ending of his life draw nearer. The man would only have to push him a little, and he would fall. The body would be looted of its rings and watch and who would ever find out? But, James said that strangely he didn’t care anymore. His intellect had let him down too many times, and he was gravely disappointed in himself. As they climbed higher still, a new feeling began to take hold of him. He didn’t want to die, not yet. Not without knowing, truly knowing, what life was about! When they reached the entrance of a cave, the man took out a candle from his coat and lit it. This is where he killed the tourists! Robbed them, and threw them into a cave where they would never be found, James thought. “Go inside”, the-man-said-to-him.

James slowly and hesitatingly thought about his options. He was still fighting the numbness within himself which wanted to die, and the new feelings that said “Not without knowing!” He entered the cave. The man said, “The cave is long and dark and narrows at the end. At the end is a little opening where the Buddha resides. You will enter it like a fetus and curl your body up so as to fit in it.” They walked in together by candlelight. The ceiling became lower and lower, and James said he was looking for the bones of others with every step he took. “Go in there if you want to know”, the man said, pointing to a small opening. When he turned back around to look at the man, he was gone. The candle on the ground.

James said he was extremely relieved to still be alive but couldn’t shake the feeling that death was awaiting him. He crawled inside the dark opening feet first, taking the candle in his hand. Stale air greeted his lungs! No room to maneuver his body once he was inside. Now he thought he got it! The robber would bury him alive! He would die of suffocation in here. Flat on his back he stared up at the wall! He saw in the dim candle light a likeness of the Buddha’s form carved into the cave wall. A jolting beam of high energy light came hurling out of this carving and hit him between the eyes! He fell unconscious!

He said he didn’t know how long he remained in that state. Upon awakening he heard an inner voice, loudly and clearly talking to him. He had been given the gift of awakening, it said! And this was merely the first step into enlightenment. He would be given instruction, this calm and soothing voice said, as to how to proceed with his life. James said he felt as if something had been rearranged in his brain circuitry! He was filled with a calmness and peace no drug or sex or success had ever given him! Another inner message he told me that he heard was “Your fate awaits you in India”!

This is the story as James related it to me to the best of my recollection. While we walked back to the village ashram James would suddenly say “Uh-oh, beggars at 9:00. And beggars coming in at 2:00!” Fighter pilot lingo. That isn’t to say that James wasn’t a charitable person. I saw him give his time and energy, lunch and dinner many times, to stray animals and tourists like myself! It’s just that being an actor he saw thru many of their games. For example he’d say, “You know that beggar lives in Benares? He has a small palace and closets filled with beggar clothes. He comes here for the summer pickings, makes a fortune, you know”, and laughed..James related another story to me while he was there.

 

Story 2: The Underground

James told me he returned to Sydney and began changing his lifestyle, somewhat. The parties were far and few in-between. He began a relationship with one woman for six months, but it seemed shallow and empty after his experiences in China. Not finding himself able to relate his new spiritual need to his girlfriend, it withered on the vine, and James took to drinking again alone. Working less and less and growing disheveled in appearance and not caring. He said he was waiting. That beautiful voice said he would be given instructions, and so he languished as if on holiday from life in paradise!

One evening an Indian woman introduced herself to him at a party. She mentioned that she had just returned from seeing a Holy Man in India by name Sai Baba. She showed him his picture and James just nodded his head. It wasn’t till a few days later that he heard that Golden Voice again. He told me that the Voice told him that Sai Baba was the one who would take him on the next step of his journey.

Packing his bags he flew to South India for the first time, to a small dusty little town called Puttaparthie, where Sai Baba had a small ashram. During darshan one afternoon (darshan is what Abraham Lincoln called breathing the air of a Divine being), Baba asked James to give him his passport. James said he didn’t really want to do that, but he did. On another afternoon Baba asked James to give him all his Chits. Chits are what the Aussies call subway tokens. James, said he understood the lingo but had no tokens on him to give, so he just shook his head in disbelief. Every day for a week Baba would come up to me, James said, and ask me for all my chits. I would say “I don’t have any chits, Baba! If I did, I’d give them to you.” “I thought the man was batty”, he said to me. “Asking for my chits!”

Six months later, James had little money left and is walking around the streets like a madman crying, “Please give me my passport back so I can go home, Baba!” But Baba wouldn’t, James said. The new tourists would point to him on the street in fear and disgust and say, “Who is that man? Why is he ranting and raving?” Another six months passed when one afternoon Baba presented James with his passport and said, “Go home with My blessings! James said it was the happiest day of his life. He left the very next morning by bus to Bangalore, and caught the next flight home to Sydney.

It was about six months after I had returned from India that I found myself using the Underground one evening.
A beggar approached me and asked me for my chits! James said to economize he bought a month’s supply of chits for the underground on sale, and for me to give them to this beggar would’ve left me without any for a month, you see? So, I told him to buzz off!
“I hadn’t been working all that much lately”, James told me. “Lost my interest almost completely in the craft, you know. So no money was coming in.” Watching me bottom line, he mimicked his own accent.
“Anyways, this beggar wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d ask, I’d refuse. He’d ask again and I’d refuse again and on and on, right? Then to my surprise one by one by one, the light bulbs in the ceiling above my head would pop as I walked ahead of the beggar. Each bulb would explode with a bang! This went on for a while and finally out of fear I surrendered all my tokens to the beggar. “Alright”, I said, “if you want it so bleeding badly take em all!”
I sat down on a bench and suddenly remembered how Sai Baba had asked me repeatedly for my chits! I began to cry at the absurdity of it and at my own selfishness! It was then that I noticed that I was in the wrong station. I frantically looked in my pockets for a chit that I might not have given away. I realized that I needed the southbound express and I was on the north side! I began to laugh and cry at the same time”, James said. “Finally, I just laid down on the bench and fell asleep. When I awoke, the southbound train pulled into the station in front of me! I was astonished!”
“How do you think that happened?” I asked?
“I don’t know”, he said. “I think the entire station was turned around! I know that’s impossible, he said, but how else can I account for it?”

When, he took me on a tour of the village shops, it was a lesson worth the learning. “How much for this bracelet?” he’d say. The vendor said, “20 rupees”. He’d laugh and say, “Oh, you’re planning on going to Hawaii, huh? I’ll be back tomorrow.” Tomorrow, the vendor would say “10 rupees”, and the next day “5”. That’s when he’d buy it! It took me a while to get the hang of it. Letting what I wanted go for another day. The urgency usually dictated its own terms, you know. Sometimes I would be able to contain myself; other times not. We went on other walks together but he just remained quiet! No more shouting and ranting and raving, no more acid wit. I didn’t know what I felt for him. Was I envious of an inner peace which he displayed with power and discernment. I had been in awe of his charm and his ability to cause events, now he seemed on top of every situation.
That’s the story as James related it to me.

Story 3: Taxi To Infinity

I’d been at the mercy of the summer heat and the mosquitoes for six weeks now. And though I felt my spirit had become charged with energy my body felt on the edge of collapse! I had all but run out of money for my 3rd trip over to India to see Sai Baba, and I wanted to go home to L.A.
It’s not that living at the ashram was expensive; it was practically free. A room cost pennies a day as well as the fresh cooked vegetables and rice. But getting up every morning at 3:00 a.m. for prayers, and waiting for hours in line in the hot sun to get into the Darshan grounds to see Baba had worn me down. I needed a hot bath and maybe a cold beer.
I decided to leave the next morning.

I checked into a moderate price hotel and I ordered from room service a hot meal with a cold beer. After staying in the hot shower for twenty minutes my body began to respond to my commands again. I had just enough money for this night and for the taxi fare to the airport and I sat on the balcony terrace looking up at the stars and feeling great. When suddenly I was hit with a sadness! It hit me like a shockwave!
I felt I needed to see Sai Baba at the ashram one more time before leaving. My body quivered at the thought of going back to the Ashram, and my mind rebelled! But I couldn’t fight the feeling.
Thinking maybe I had hidden some rupees in my valise when I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, I frantically tore thru my bag looking for something that wasn’t there. I mean I must have looked thru it a dozen times. Each time I looked I swear I believed I’d find some. I lay down on the bed exhausted, unable to grasp the feeling that had come over me! I turned off my mind and the lights and fell asleep.
When I awoke in the morning, I decided “Hey, let’s look thru the luggage again!” I laughed at myself in disbelief as I watched myself searching thru the same clothes, corners and crevices of the suitcase. Then, “Oh”, I said.
I found a bundle of 20 rupee notes!!! There were a lot of them!
I was too excited to count. I looked at the time and found that I could get to Darshan with time to spare as I ran out the door of my room, flew down the cold marble steps to the lobby and jumped into the first cab, saying take me to Brindivan.
(Brindivan is the name of Baba’s Ashram in Whitefield, about 15 minutes away by taxi cab.) The cab driver said “Yes, okay”, and he took off down the noisy streets, making lefts and rights and lefts and then we were on this long straight road I hadn’t ever seen before. There were fields of tall golden stalks on the left and right. I scrunched my lips and thought, I really never noticed this stuff before. “Brindavan”, I said, “We’re going to Brindavan, right?” “Yes, okay”, he said.

Further along the road the fields of golden stalks were getting thicker and thicker. I thought you know this guy doesn’t speak English! “The sun is lemon jello”, I said, “Right?” He says, “Yes, okay! Your mother wears army boots, right?”
Yes, okay. Now, after a good 40 minutes on the road the driver suddenly veers off to the shoulder and falls asleep at the wheel!…. You know, what are you going to do? This guy doesn’t speak English. And what am I going to say to him if I wake him up?
I sat in the back seat looking out the window at a clear blue sky surrounded by golden stalks on the ground, and thought “God, is this was where I was supposed to be?!”
Twenty minutes must’ve gone by, I don’t know. I had shut my eyes and was napping, when I saw someone approaching the cab from the fields.
I rolled down the window and a man in his early thirties dressed in white shirt and pants asks me, “Are you going to Brindavan by any chance? I said, “Yes, I had hoped to”. At this moment the taxi driver woke up and yawning, looks at the man getting into his cab and gets angry. The man entering the cab talks to him in a rapid-fire tongue and the driver turns the motor on and pulls away like a cowboy in a gallop. Now it’s 60 minutes past the time of Darshan and I figure well, we missed it. The man in the front seat begins to tell me his story.

He tells me last night his wife took ill. Very ill! He did everything he could for her to make her comfortable and she was at last able to get some sleep. Sai Baba came to him that evening in a dream and said “I know your wife is ill, and you can’t afford a doctor. I will send a car for you and you come to see me at the Ashram. I will give you some holy ash that will heal her!”
As our cab arrived at the Ashram gates we were told that Baba had delayed Darshan that morning, and lo, look he was just coming out now.
The man takes off toward Baba, and mind you there are around 2,000 people sitting there in front of him waiting.
Baba walks directly to the man and puts a packet in his hand and says something to him. Pats him on the back. He gets back into the cab, as I pay the taxi driver off. They take off like an eagle!
Baba walked back into the Darshan area but since it was so crowded, I couldn’t really get in. But as he had walked towards the man, I had mentally said to him, “Thank you for the wonderful time I had by Your Grace, and with your permission I wish to return home”.
Baba didn’t acknowledge my mental words to Him as He sometimes will. But I knew He had felt my love and I had felt His one more time.
I caught a cab back to the hotel and flew back to California.

Story 4: In A Bombay Alley

You’re swingin’ on the Riviera one day

Then bleedin’ in a Bombay alley next day

© MCA Music Secret Agent Man By: (PF Sloan – S. Barri)

Before I left India, I stopped in Bombay (Mumbai). One of the world’s oldest and busiest ports, now a thriving movie and music town. They call it Bollywood. I was going to see a psychic there, The Reader Of Brigue. I was told that the reader had personal problems, mostly chasing after Western women, and his accuracy of reading the future was limited, but I had promised a friend that if I could, I would see him.
I called the number up on the card I had been given and made an appointment to see him the following day. Checking into a hotel called the International Grand, it had as much room as a beehive cell, but it was cheap and clean.
After washing up and resting for a while, I decided excitedly to have a look around this ancient and romantic city. Stepping out into the street, I took a deep breath, and could smell the burning leaves mixed with cow dung that just intoxicated and overwhelmed my senses. A rich, deep and memory-lingering smell.
After an hour’s walk, seeing mostly apartment buildings and hundreds of small shanty-style dwellings, I found my way back to the hotel and had dinner. Then went upstairs to sleep and await the next day.

In the morning , I caught a cab to the Reader’s residence. A large condo-like apartment building on the 14^th floor. I knocked at the door. A tall, blonde, American Goddess opened the door and suddenly ran out into the hallway screaming, until she disappeared from view. I thought I had walked into a Marx Brothers’ movie. “Come in, a middle aged light skinned Indian man said to me. I will be right with you”…A few minutes later he stood in front of me and smiled. “I have a 3 o’clock appointment I said. “Yes, he said, will you be so kind as to follow me?” He took me downstairs into a parking lot and measured my shadow with a ruler, and wrote something down on a 3 by 5 card. “We are finished here” he said and we proceeded back into the elevator and into the apartment. He escorted me into a room with a large desk which he sat behind and invited me to make myself comfortable in a chair in front of him.. He opened what looked like an old library card pullout drawer and began rummaging through it till he felt satisfied with a sheaf of plastic he pulled out…Your name is Philip Schlein and you are the son of Claire and Harry Schlein. Born in Kew Gardens NY (nobody knew that) You have been having a very rough time in your chosen business of music as well as in your personal life…You have lived many lives before this, all of them are written down here. What have you come to me for? Do you want to know about your past, present or future…I know you are being plagued by a redhead with blue eyes and you aren’t sure how to help yourself.”

How do you know this I asked astonished…Everyones life and lives that have taken up the spiritual path were given to the first Reader of Brigue by Vishnu many thousands of years ago and that information has been handed down thru the generations…As my son is just learning the trade now as I will retire soon…So we talked about my future and about the past and of course the present…
At the end of the reading I gave him 400rs. and walked out into the crowded street, not knowing what to think! I had tea from a cart pusher, and I began to walk back to the hotel. My head was swimming, and I felt lucky to find the right street without any effort. My reservations on the airline were not for another two days, and I wondered what I was going to do with the time, when a taxi cab pulled up and the driver said, “You must come with me sir”. I said he had seen too many movies to go for that line! But I had the strangest feeling that this was somehow right! The cabbie said again, “Please come with me, sir. Trust me, no harm will come to you”. Again the feeling that there is nothing to fear here was hard to shake off while my mind was yelling, are you completely crazy!? I said, “Alright, and I got into the back seat.

We must have driven for two hours, the city streets faded from sight and the scenery was becoming back roads. He kept driving, thru the dusty back roads, until he stopped in front of a small building in the proverbial middle of nowhere, or as the yogi would say now here!
He got out of the cab and opened my door like I was getting out of a limo in Hollywood! “This is my cousin’s hotel, I will get you a good rate, don’t worry!” I was still under the spell of déjà vu, I guess, because my mind was trying to get my attention, badly!
It wanted to tell me, “You idiot! You fool! This guy picked you out as a sucker and you bought it! Now look what trusting your instincts has done! How many times do I have to tell you…….” Something like that. I felt the waves of embarrassment, but I decided not to listen. Not now, not yet.
I looked around the landscape and it was deserted as far as I could see. Huge dirt roads, a bridge that seemed to lead to nowhere, and this little white stucco hotel. I walked in. The manager or owner, I don’t know, welcomed me like I was the King Of Morocco! He showed me to a room and said “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a good rate!” I stepped inside a small 12-by-15 room with a bed, and a black and white TV that didn’t work.

It was 1:00 p.m. We have Grape Nesbitt here he said proudly, but no orange. I hope that’s alright!

I sat on the bed and watched the cab drive off, and continued to stare out the window at emptiness and dust. I must’ve fallen asleep for an hour or more, when bells outside in the street woke me up. It looked like a carnival. Hindu priests were stepping off a large truck ringing bells and waving incense sticks. A lot of people with animals were suddenly crowding into this tiny street. And the priests were blessing the animals…I watched awestruck at this but as suddenly as it began, it ended, and the truck with the priests left the dusty street empty again.

I had hoped to give up the nicotine habit while I was in India.
I had promised myself not to buy a pack while I was there. But to my chagrin, I found they sold individual cigarettes, and I wanted one now! I fought the feeling for ten or fifteen minutes but it wouldn’t go away! I walked out the door of my room, to the manager’s desk and asked where I could buy a cigarette. He smiled, and just pointed. I watched where he was pointing to and followed into the street where the Priests had done the animal blessings. There was nothing there!
I walked around to where the bridge was and crossed it. It was a mile long or so, and there were a few shops, but no smoke shops. I purchased a small silver ring of an Indian Saint named Shirdi Sai Baba for a few rupees, had a small bite to eat at a little stand, and walked back to the hotel.

 
It was around 5:00 p.m.
The sun was beginning to set and I was still on the search for a smoke shop when I found this alley of streets to the west of the small hotel. I entered it and found a smoke shop! What was interesting to me was how the alleyway seemed to go on and on into an ever-widening and curling street. I started walking deeper into what seemed like a labyrinth. The sun was still going down, when I became aware of fear again. It wanted to advise me that people can disappear in strange alleys!
I heard a voice exclaim, “He’s here! Baba is here!” I felt a great sense of exhilaration and began looking myself for Sai Baba, whos Ashram I just had stayed at for the last two months.
As I walked further into the alley people were sitting on the roadway, and I seemed to feel as if they were all my dear relatives! I heard myself say to myself “Oh, there’s Narayana and his two children. He just got over a severe cold, and he’s been grateful that he’s feeling better.”
I saw an old man, and I heard myself say, “Just 120 hairs left on his head and missing one tooth in his back pocket comb!” Windows flew open and people cried “Baba, baba!” I felt myself gliding above the street, blessing each and every one from a heart filled with a Universe of abundant love!
Then I heard this Voice saying to me, “Oh look, that man’s lungs are black with smoke! Baba will fix. Watch, watch!” with childish enthusiasm like laughter.

The image of Sai Baba was now inside my mind. As he took this deep breath in and exhaled a ton of black smoke. “Look now, black lung is gone… clean!” “Look what Baba did”, I heard Him say as he laughed somewhere inside me.
“Is this you, Baba?”, I seemed to ask. “Yes”, yes he said. “Just watch and listen!”
At that moment I heard millions of voices in my head, I knew the sound of each and every one of them. I knew their names and the names of their families and fathers and great-grandfathers back to the beginning when there was no one but God and into the future I saw their children and children’s children into infinity. They were praying to God! Baba said to me. I am letting you listen in! “See that man upstairs by the window, he doesn’t like Me. He’s been asking Me for a job for a long time. And he now has lost all faith. He doesn’t know his brother-in-law is coming here next week with good news for him!
I suddenly felt beneath my feet the insects who lived there and knew them as well as I knew myself and loved them as such. I felt I knew their desires and feelings as well and intimately as I know my own!! Baba knows everything about everyone he laughed, no one is separate we are One.

We came across a small Muslim temple as the street continued to unwind like a snake and the priest came out and bowed to Baba!
He asked Him to please come in and to bless the temple but at that moment, Baba decided to leave my consciousness! A cold fear came into my mind thinking this priest would suddenly say “who are you and what do you think you are doing here ? I cried inside, “Baba, where are you?”

He replied instantly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
I did what I thought to be my best imitation of Baba, using my hands in the way He might, and told the priest to wait and gestured with my left hand palm upwards as I had seen Him do on many occasions…Amazing! He didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, I mean that it was me standing there and not Sai Baba, so I stood fast and waited for Baba to return.

And He did and I heard him tell the priest, “I bless! I bless! I bless!” and materialized some vibuthi with a wave of his hand and He-we moved on.
The sun had just gone down, and lights came on in the alleyway like a small Las Vegas! Music began playing and noise everywhere…. Baba was blessing people right and left but seemed to be leaving the alley and people were waving goodbye! It was now dark outside as I reached the entrance where I had first entered into the alley.

I didn’t know what had just happened! My mind was telling me that I just went way over the edge and should seek medical help as soon as I got home! So it was with that trepidation in mind as I walked into the hotel and asked for my room key. The owner said did you see Him? See who, I said. SaiBaba was here… tonight! “Did you see Him?” Oh, what a pity that that you missed Him!” Every 7 years the people of this little town
save up enough money to celebrate a religious holiday. They wrote to Sai Baba asking Him if He would come, and He sent a letter saying “Yes, He would!”

The cab driver came the next morning and took me back into Bombay where I stayed for another day, expecting to get my booked flight to Los Angeles. I had experienced something that was beyond my comprehension at that time…But I was feeling good,

until I found my flight was overbooked and my name wasn’t on the computer for the flight to Los Angeles…And I had only a few rupees left in my pocket!

Story 5: The Man From Honeywell

I was sharing a room with two Australians. They had their mattresses and nets comfortably arranged when I moved in. I felt like a squatter. I set up my business on the concrete floor in a corner of the room that would have been comfortable for one person. But the Ashram was filling up with people from all over the world. Rooms in the ashram were very inexpensive and were at a premium, hence the doubling and tripling up. There was a small Western-style bathroom, (the Indian-style bathroom had what looked like a bed pan cemented to the floor) and a sink with running water. Home sweet home!
I had told a few friends that I had hoped to lose some weight on my trip to India, little did I know that Sai Baba must have heard me, and had me pay a price for that desire!
Everyone was abuzz about the new super specialty hospital that had been built in one year. “An impossible feat”, said the President of India, when he had visited the marshland where the hospital was to be built. “There’s no way to bring heavy machinery onto that land”, they had said. And the plans that Baba drew up himself for the architecture would take at least 3 years. The next morning after Baba’s announcement that the hospital would be completed the next year on his birthday, and this before the first brick was laid!
Well, the land somehow became solid and only hand workers were allowed to work on it. No machinery! It was built in grand Indian design and larger than a number of city blocks. Everything was supposed to be free. And doctors from all the world came to donate their time. The first surgery was a heart surgery and it was done on Baba’s birthday. I went to take a look at it and indeed it was grand, but that’s not what this story is about really.

I lay on my mattress on the floor listening to the Aussies swap beer stories and how the women and fishing are so good, and what in the world are they doing here anyway. They didn’t seem to get who this ‘Sai Barbra’ was, as they called him. A week came and went and then one of the Aussies got dysentery. It was a bad case and he was constantly in pain. It was difficult to get any sleep, and then I caught it. With one bathroom to share it was comical to see. However the comedy had just begun. I began losing strength and couldn’t go out to buy water or food. The Aussie who was well seemed to forget I was there while his hands were full nursing his friend. I seemed to lose track of time after a while, and I felt “This is not the way I wanted to lose weight!”
I slept and didn’t eat and didn’t drink any water for I don’t know how long. I felt as if I could leave my body at any time. I didn’t feel panic, or scared.
It seemed natural, but the thought or idea of it seemed wrong. I lived in a dream state and no longer lived in the world, when the door of the room opened up and a man from Minnesota asked where he could put his bed down.
The Aussie who was well was out of the room. The other Aussie was recovering, but he wasn’t aware that I was even there! The man from Minnesota
yelled out, “This man is dying! What’s the matter with you people? He needs electrolytes and water right away.” I was given huge amounts of the stuff and in a week or so I had recovered enough for him and I to engage in a conversation.
This is what he told me:

He said his name was Frank, but I’m not really sure that’s what it was. He had been to see Sai Baba once for a few days, seven or eight years ago. He worked as a specialist for the Honeywell Corp. His specialty was air conditioners.
Now it seems he had a dream where Sai Baba asked him for his help and would he come over to India? Frank told his wife about the dream and she said no, he couldn’t go. They couldn’t afford it and a hundred other reasons. The bottom line was, she placed a heavy pressure on him.
“If you go, don’t expect me to be here when you get back”, she told Frank. Frank apparently hadn’t buckled under the pressure because here he was. A knock on the door! “The head of the Specialty Hospital has a car waiting for you, if you could join us as soon as possible” an Indian in a Nehru-style jacket said! I said to Frank, “That’s pretty good attention, man.” He said, “Yeah, but I hadn’t told anybody I was here and I don’t know anyone at the hospital”!
Frank wasn’t easily ruffled at these seemingly impossible miracles. He was a yogi. Even-minded, you know, at anything that entered his world.

The problem was the doctors were performing surgeries with broken air conditioners. It was intolerably hot! The air conditioners were from the Honeywell Corp in Minnesota and Frank got on the phone with his supervisor there and told them they needed about a hundred s235890 model coils right away and could they send them over to India. ASAP!
Frank’s supervisor said, “So you’re in India, huh? That’s great, we thought you took off with a woman from St. Louis!” They both had a good laugh.

I’d watch Frank get up early every morning and do Yoga exercises. I was in awe at his mechanics, and perseverance. He’d go to Darshan every day and get last row in a crowd of 5-6,000 people, while I’d get first row and hand a letter to Baba that I’d written for him, or sometime he’d ask me how I was doing!
Frank stayed 5 more days and never once complained about his seating situation in the darshan grounds. He said, I’m where I am supposed to be. When I asked him, “What will you do if your wife isn’t there?”, he said calmly, “She’ll either be there when I get back or not.” I thanked him for saving my life, and he said “God’s grace.” We shook hands and he told me he was a big Barry Manilow fan and if I ever performed out his way, he hoped he’d like my music as much as his.

So, a guy flies in from Minnesota after having a dream, saves my life, fixes the air conditioning at the hospital, and flies home just like that! Barry Manilow
I just want you to know I love you!

Story 6: The Secret Message

I was driving home alone after having had lunch with a friend in Venice, Ca.
While waiting in the left lane to make a turn, I saw a large expensive box in the middle of the intersection. It looked like a hat box to me. I made my turn, opened my door, and swooped it in like a hawk its prey.
I pulled over to the curb, shut the motor off, to have us a peek inside. The people in a restaurant, across the street with large glass windows, were watching my every move. So, this film was being shot and the audience was watching and what was this character going to do? What was in the box?
I lifted the top of the box and found inside a spongy and realistic form of a female breast. Being artistic by nature, it hadn’t occurred to me this was a prosthesis, but rather a symbol of some kind.
Since breaking apart from my girlfriend, my first reaction was that this was a joke to remind me of how much I missed her physically. But looking at the audience across the street, I realized quickly that wasn’t it.
Then I thought, did there have to be a message? Couldn’t this just be some random event? Yes, I thought, exactly! This thought sobered me for me the moment, and I realized someone must want this back!
I looked on the box for an address or telephone number but found none.
I thought of taking it home with me and placing it on my pillow, but no, that wasn’t the right thing to do.
I placed the box in front of the restaurant, in case whoever lost it decided to backtrack. I placed the mystery in front of the audience. And that was it, I thought, or rather would like to think.
As I was driving, I thought, what kind of person loses a breast like that? Oh, Betty, do you remember what I did with that breast I bought the other day? I found it comical, I didn’t see the pain or the obvious.

It wasn’t more than a couple of months later I found myself back in India with Sai Baba. The ashram rooms were completely filled up and that meant having to take a small hotel room in the town. Rooms there at the time were expensive and not as clean. Not to mention the endless noise of the traffic and cars that honked their horns in Indian tradition day and night!

I hesitated in making any decision and sat and waited for something to propel me into action. It came in the form of a woman. My on-again, off-again female devotee friend was at the ashram and says, “I have to talk to you”. I told her of my situation, being without a room, and she said to me, “There is one room here that is locked up tight, but I have a friend who has the key. It seems the woman whose room it is went back to the States to have a cancerous breast removed!

Story 7: The Bank Caper

Jerry Brown was running for President again. The year was 1992.
I was helping out in his campaign office by singing songs to the volunteers on their break time, and opening for him before he gave his fiery speeches on the road and on college campuses.
One of his favorite songs besides one that I had written, “Eve Of Destruction”, was “Bad Moon Rising” by John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival.
It was the day of the night of the election. I had put together a band to play for the party at the campaign Headquarters. Jerry asked me to sing “Bad Moon Rising” as many times as possible during the evening. I said,” Fine”. The only problem was I didn’t know the lyric, and didn’t have a copy of the song as far as I could remember. I could have gone to one of the mega-record stores, but it didn’t occur to me then!
I had a few errands to run before the party and one of them was going to the bank. I had been a customer there for a few years and never had a problem with any of the tellers. This day was different!

I stepped up to the window and the teller, an attractive lady, said to me, “Go over to the coffee bar and sit down!” I said, “I’m sorry, why should I do that?”
She just repeated what she had said a moment before, extremely curt and cold, I thought. I shook my head, rolled my eyes and walked over to the coffee bar that was a couple of couches, a table and an instant coffee maker.
Okay. I poured myself a cup of coffee, sat down on the couch, and kept looking at the teller. The bank was unusually empty, but everyone seemed very busy.
She didn’t accept my questioning glances.
With time on my hands I started looking thru the stacks of magazines on the coffee table. They were old copies of the usual, Time, Newsweek, People and a copy of Song Lyric magazine, circa 1978. On the cover it said: lyrics to this song and that song and “Bad Moon Rising”! You know you can feel the adrenaline flow when something hits you over the head!
I hurriedly copied the lyric down, though at first I thought I would just try and memorize it. I have to tell you that any moment I thought the magazine would
vanish in my hands. After successfully writing it down I re-approached the teller and she told me the computers had failed, and now they were up again.
I had this feeling that the faster I write the better it will be for all.

Well, the party went off as scheduled. We sang “Bad Moon Rising” for Jerry a number of times during the night. His bid for the presidency was not successful, but I think Jerry knew it, and his asking me to sing “Bad Moon Rising” may have been his way to let the volunteers know. I don’t know for sure.

But I believe we need more men of integrity like Jerry Brown in politics if the younger generations are going to become interested at all in ending the corruption and greed that has afflicted our system for too long.

Jerry Brown was running for President again. The year was 1992.
I was helping out in his campaign office by singing songs to the volunteers on their break time, and opening for him before he gave his fiery speeches on the road and on college campuses.
One of his favorite songs besides one that I had written, “Eve Of Destruction”, was “Bad Moon Rising” by John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival.
It was the day of the night of the election. I had put together a band to play for the party at the campaign Headquarters. Jerry asked me to sing “Bad Moon Rising” as many times as possible during the evening. I said,” Fine”. The only problem was I didn’t know the lyric, and didn’t have a copy of the song as far as I could remember. I could have gone to one of the mega-record stores, but it didn’t occur to me then!
I had a few errands to run before the party and one of them was going to the bank. I had been a customer there for a few years and never had a problem with any of the tellers. This day was different!

I stepped up to the window and the teller, an attractive lady, said to me, “Go over to the coffee bar and sit down!” I said, “I’m sorry, why should I do that?”
She just repeated what she had said a moment before, extremely curt and cold, I thought. I shook my head, rolled my eyes and walked over to the coffee bar that was a couple of couches, a table and an instant coffee maker.
Okay. I poured myself a cup of coffee, sat down on the couch, and kept looking at the teller. The bank was unusually empty, but everyone seemed very busy.
She didn’t accept my questioning glances.
With time on my hands I started looking thru the stacks of magazines on the coffee table. They were old copies of the usual, Time, Newsweek, People and a copy of Song Lyric magazine, circa 1978. On the cover it said: lyrics to this song and that song and “Bad Moon Rising”! You know you can feel the adrenaline flow when something hits you over the head!
I hurriedly copied the lyric down, though at first I thought I would just try and memorize it. I have to tell you that any moment I thought the magazine would
vanish in my hands. After successfully writing it down I re-approached the teller and she told me the computers had failed, and now they were up again.
I had this feeling that the faster I write the better it will be for all.

Well, the party went off as scheduled. We sang “Bad Moon Rising” for Jerry a number of times during the night. His bid for the presidency was not successful, but I think Jerry knew it, and his asking me to sing “Bad Moon Rising” may have been his way to let the volunteers know. I don’t know for sure.

But I believe we need more men of integrity like Jerry Brown in politics if the younger generations are going to become interested at all in ending the corruption and greed that has afflicted our system for too long.

 

B7 On Sathya Sai Baba

B7 is a follower of Sathya Sai Baba, believed by over 100 million people to be the Yugavatar or Avatar of the Age.  As a little boy he lived with Baba’s parents for 4 years between 1957 and 1960.  Baba was close by in the small village, living in a hut. Easwaramba, Baba’s mother, taught B7 to prepare certain Indian foods. He grew up learning Telugu and English and in later years was asked as an adult by Baba to translate. He and his parents moved to Washington DC.  Baba later asked him to acquire both an MD and a JD, a law degree, which he did. B7’s father and mother were physicians. His father specialized in inventing prosthetic devices for soldiers suffering amputations. His father was the man seen in pictures holding the umbrella over the head of Shirdi Sai Baba. His great uncle was Narayana Kasturi. B7 has a ring which has
produced vibuthi (Baba’s materialized ash) for 30 years. He has received letters from Baba. He still has the robes, materialized rings and other gifts Baba gave his parents and him. Included are very rare tapes of the early years of Baba’s bhajan singing. Baba performed the remarriage ceremony of his parents. Recently Baba guided him to jettisom most of his possessions. He lives in 1 room in the Washington DC area, with a bed, dresser, closet, sink and toilet. It would take him
2 hours to pack all his belongings. He has no desk, no computer, takes his showers in an area gym.

B7 has for his entire life so far has hidden from publicity. Recently Baba has been telling him to come out of hiding.

Here are some of his quotes:

All rivers reach the sea effortlessly. All souls will be liberated. We can float effortlessly (on the river of
shakti) to immersion in God.

“Visualize a grey cloudy day, but not depressing. The grey cloud embraces you with warmth. It is pregnant  with
the raindrops of love.”

“Baba teaches us we are not the body. He paid no attention to the excruciating pain of His broken femur. (He has
as Shiva Neelakanta taken on the karma of all beings and the entire planet, but for some inexplicable reason He
chose visibly to take on the karma of one person.”)

“Baba is all names and all forms. All He asks of us is that we judge no one.”

“Did you use Baba as an ATM machine?  He is the compass.”

“You are one with Baba. All are one with Baba. All are God. If you ask Baba for something you are asking
yourself. And He would say to you: “Go do it”.

“As if you have never seen your face in a mirror, you do not know yourself.”

“Baba is a sensational GPS system which we don’t need after reaching the goal. He is the shoehorn who helps put
our foot in the shoe.”

“Imagine you are caught in a snowstorm in a strange city. Suddenly in front of you is a snowplow clearing a path
which you follow all the way to your destination. That is the guru.”

“We come to the end of one life or another and say “Crap! I took the wrong exit.”  We don’t need now to take a
right turn before going straight to the ocean of God.”

“Baba answered the prayer of a woman in Washington DC who said she did not feel comfortable in a virtually all
Indian ashram and would like to start her own center. Baba had previously had someone demonstrate to her how to wear
saris.”

“My mission is to make people think, to make them laugh, to focus them on the goal.”

“You own only that which you can give away freely. What you can’t give away freely owns you.”

“Whenever you say “I am not” such as “I am not a leader” you bring superconsciousness down to a lower state of
limitation.”

“Because you are one with God you lack nothing.”

“Of the 3 stooges, Curly is closest to God because he has no expectations.”

“I once took a button from Baba’s robe. He told me He was aware that I had taken it. I said “I know it and You
know it so what is the problem?  Baba replied “Very happy”.

“Baba is Superman. He shows up just in time to take a bullet for someone, and then disappears.”

One could have 10 million cookbooks
from every country. But we have only
1 stomach. That becomes full quickly.
In the same way, knowledge which is
not related to the goal of liberation
and self realization is not
ideal knowledge.  (paraphrased)

God is not omnipast or omnifuture.
God is Omnipresent, established in
the eternal now. God is the great I AM.

Life is like watching a captivating movie.
As long as the movie runs, most forget
everything else. Once it stops, real life
resumes. The movie is life. When the
movie stops, we continue.

We are all One.
Do not judge anyone.

Baba is the Sathya Sai Express.
When a plane is landing, it does not zig to the right
and zag to the left. Its path is straight.
Those who want liberation and self realization
make their paths straight and fast.

Baba is still answering letters.
Letters are accepted every day in
Prasanthi Nilayam, Baba’s ashram
in Puttaparthi in Anantapur District
and Andhra Pradesh state.
The following day they are burned.
Baba is appearing to many people
around the world.

It is better that Baba write His words in
ones heart than on paper.

“Read again Conversations With Baba by John Hislop. Commit to memory Baba’s speech
about His mission, given in 1968. I also recommend Dying To Be Me by Anita Moorjani.”
(72 volumes of Baba’s discourses, summer lectures are free online at
http://sathyasai.org/discour/content.htm

How will the Golden Age be inaugurated? The rising of consciousness
in each soul.

“Let us go out and capture people’s hearts. Let’s finish the game.”

BABA AND THE COCONUT PALM

B7 said that Baba once was escaping his mother and disappeared into a coconut
tree and later rematerialized.   It reminded this poster of Krishna’s tricks with Yasoda.

B7 is the son of 2 physicians and was told by Baba to achieve both a
degree in medicine and in law which he did.  As an undergraduate he studied astrophysics, music, and comparative religion. He was raised in the US after 1960 but made many trips back to Puttaparthi and was at the ashram for Baba’s mahasamadhi (final leaving of the body). . Baba frequently used him as a translater because of his knowledge of Telugu. (Baba is omniscient and speaks all languages. A Japanese man in a wheelchair who had come to the ashram for a healing told this poster that Baba spoke better Japanese than he himself. A group of Africans representing 35 different dialects each heard him in his or her own dialect.)  B7’s father in a previous life often held an umbrella over Shirdi Sai Baba. B7 works now with Doctors Without Borders.

THE MATERIALIZED LUNCH BAG

After 1960, B7 returned to the US to live with his parents, who made frequent visits to Baba’s ashram in India. On one of these visits, the three of them were with a Dutch woman when Baba materialized a typical lunch bag his mother made for her son.. It contained an apple, potato chips, and a Wonder Bread sandwich with peanutbutter and jelly. Baba told B7’s parents that the boy often rolled up the Wonder Bread into a ball and played with it in the school yard.

ROOM INSPECTION

B7 made many trips to the ashram with his parents. When he was a teen, he had arrived in India with a couple Playboy magazines, some brandy, some chocolate. He was placed in a room with 5 other teen boys. Arriving he was told Baba would inspect their room. He hurriedly locked his stash into a cupboard. Baba entered and spoke to each boy in his own language. He spoke German, French, Telugu, Swedish, and English (poster forgets 6th language). Baba said to B7..
“What’s in the cupboard?” B7: Stuff Baba: Why is it locked? B: Habit. Baba: You have your anatomy magazines in there. And Baba made a list for him of everything he had locked away.

BABA’S TRANSLATER FOR A BOLLYWOOD PRODUCER AND HIS WIFE

B7 did not like translating for Baba, not desiring to pass on words of correction to others. Once a powerful figure in Bollywood came with his wife for an interview.  Baba asked B7 to translate to the wife: “When your husband is in meetings, he is in meetings.”  Baba went on to explain that the husband was having an affair, and said to the man “When you are with this woman and turn Baba’s picture on your ring away, do you think He does not know?”

B7 THROWS BABA’S RING INTO THE SEA

In 1976, B7’s mother was dying. She was a great devotee of Baba who had asked for liberation. At the time, he was in New Haven county, going to school, and was experiencing anger at Swami because of his mother’s suffering.
He had several drinks, and then walked to the seashore and threw the ring Baba had materialized for him into the sea. The following morning he awoke to see the ring entwined with seaweed on his dresser.

B7 SENDS A CRITICAL LETTER TO BABA

Many moons passed.  B7 sent Baba a critical letter. He wrote me back in perfect English, a letter in which every letter was love.  He returned my anger with love.

B7 TAKES HIS MOTHER’S ASHES TO THE ASHRAM

When his mother died, her body manifested vibuthi.  B7 vowed that while he accompanied her ashes to India, he would avoid meat and alcohol.  When he arrived at the ashram and went in to see Swami, Baba told him the amount of change he had in his pocket and then materialized a 100 rupee note for him, telling him he was released from his vow and could go into the village to do as he wished. B7 had chicken and 3 gin and tonics.  Even so, he was mindful of his promise to attend Baba’s lecture. Baba met him in the hall returning from one of his several trips to the restroom and said “Would not one drink have been better than three?”

BABA IS STILL AT THE ASHRAM AND EVERYWHERE

Baba is still answering letters. Letters are accepted every day in Prasanthi Nilayam, Baba’s ashram in Puttaparthi in Anantapur District, Andhra Pradesh state.  The following day they are burned. Baba is appearing to many people around the world. In different places around the world objects produce vibuthi.

TESTIMONY OF OTHERS

Baba would walk by B7 in the darshan line and frequently manifest vibuthi pouring it into B7’s hand.  B7 would share it with everyone…. first the seniors and the ill, then others. One day the vibuthi did not stop coming, no matter how many crowded in for some.  B7 also graced the street dogs with it.

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