Creatures in the Rain & the Life of Prince & Death of Satsang Friend

September 5 – 12, 1999

Shanti Ashram

Dear Parents,

Divya conveys her namaskars. Hope you are all well there, in your freezing regions. Here all is fine.

It seems that Susan Caffery had sent me another discourse cassette to be translated, but it never arrived to me. So she stopped sending discourses altogether. SH found this all out and since they still want me to translate, they have started to send cassettes again, this time safely only by registered post. I have translated and sent you the Guru Purnima and Onam discourses, since you showed some interest in my translations before.

Personally, to tell the truth, I feel it is a waste to concentrate on which words are missing and how styles are changed from various discourses. The gist of what Swami is saying is the important thing and we need only to try to put that into action, not to waste time like scholars, picking and pecking different words. Anyway, I am keeping my own opinions to myself and am obediently translating as per devoted requests.

You mentioned that I am going on rocky astrological times, like Gabe, but not so intense. For a week or so my health hadn’t been so good. I was been struck down with weakness and fever. However, I'm feeling better now.

One night when I was arranging the puja vessels to be scrubbed, I saw a flame of fire behind me, rising high! I looked to see that the end of my sari was on fire! It had caught on an open oil lamp. No one was around. I instantly removed the end part and bashed it on the ground. Thanks to Swami the Protector, the fire immediately went out, although a portion of the sari was all burnt up.

Seeing those inauspicious events happening to me lately, I remembered about Venkamma, and her belief in the evil eye. So I asked Vinamra to remove evil eye from me. She just waved a piece of straw from a broomstick around half a time (not the extended ritual I was used to in Puttaparthi). Nothing seemed improved, and the very next day Vinamra became bedridden with back pain for three days!

The rainy season brings out various creatures. One day I was in my room when the late Prince and Vijay started barking crazily. I looked out to see, only five feet away from my cottage, a creature that looked exactly like a big, black, fat baby alligator! It was swishing its tail, and about 2½ feet long, a very fat baby!

I just looked on in amazement while the dogs barked away, it stayed in one place, then moved several feet away, then paused again then suddenly ran behind the computer room cottage. I raced along with the dogs but it was lost to sight. Maybe climbed a tree or escaped into the grass.

Later when I told David he said, “Yum! I know about them (he said some Telugu name). Sometimes we manage to catch them - they make such a delicious dish!”

Another time, I went to my bathroom after evening satsang to see a big, huge crab-like creature in my toilet, struggling to get out! It was black with big claws, but the other half was in the water and couldn’t be seen. What to do? I finally decided that if it came from the drains, it could go back there without dying, so I poured a bucket of water and it was swished down the drain. After two days, again in the night I saw it, struggling to get out of the toilet! This time I thought I could save it and put it outside. I put in a broom, then a long stick, hoping it would cling to it so I could place it outside. But it didn’t clutch the stick so after some time I again poured a bucket of water and sent it to where it had come from, i.e., the septic tank. I never saw it since.

A few nights ago I lay down to sleep and noticed something was crawling on my face. I swished it off with my hand, as flying insects are very common.

Again the thing crawled on my arm and was making its way up my sari. I took a flashlight and shined it on the creature. Lo! It was a dreaded scorpion, with raised tail! What to do? I swished it off with the flashlight and jumped to my feet.

Where was it? I looked all about. Then I saw it was on my sari, crawling up as if on a mountain expedition! Whoosh! In an instant the sari was removed and laid on the floor, scorpion and all. Now what to do? Standing in petticoat and choli, I carefully opened the door and shook the sari outside.

Now where was it? Nowhere outside. I closed the door and searched the sari carefully, section by section, four times. No scorpion. As I was thinking what to do, I looked down. Lo! It was on my petticoat, resolutely making its way around the edge, brushing my ankles as it went.

I then opened the door again, placed the section of the petticoat outside and brushed it off. Praise the Lord! It fell to the outside verandah, then I brushed it on the ground and it went off, both of us safe.

I did a namaskar to Swami for saving me from a scorpion sting, especially in my weakened, fevered state and at night!

The story of Prince (better known and called by the Telugu name Yuva Raju) began not quite two years ago. He was born under a fallen tree with three brothers, right behind Jnaneswari’s cottage compound wall.

When he was only three or four days old, one evening there was a mighty rain and his mother became frantic trying to protect the new-born babies with her own wet body. Poor things!

I could see the whole scene from my room. What to do? I rushed to the spot in the rain, swooped up the four tiny babies in my arms and rushed to the cottage next to mine (computer room) and deposited them on one end of the verandah.

Their mother silently followed me and immediately made herself comfortable on the verandah, giving me grateful looks. They spent a dry time that night, whilst outside it was raining heavily.

However, next day there was some discovery of the situation and complaints so I had to shift them outside, to the enclosed area near my septic tank, I felt bad they had to stay near the smelly place, hearing water all the time.

Prince’s brother wasn’t well; he had some internal complaint and was rolling hither and thither day and night, crying piteously, for two days. He rolled in the mud with no outer awareness at all.

So one night I shifted the puppies to Parvatamma’s room, so he wouldn’t get dirty in the dirt. How keen was the distress of their mother, seeing the sad plight of her son! She wailed and wailed to her son’s cries, and looked at me in unbearable agony.

The next day I took him to the hospital and they injected him with some pain killers and antibiotics maybe. (They would never put animals to sleep here, like in America.) Anyway, within two hours Prince’s brother had gone to higher and happier realms.

Now four became three. One fine day, I was working on the computer and the young boys were playing outside. Suddenly I heard urgent yelps and I ran out to see what? A new dog attacking Prince and his brothers! I ran to their rescue with bare hands.

The new dog left them and attacked me! Alas! It was a mad dog! Prince yelled encouraging from a distance, whilst even his strong and bully of a father and his courage-less brother Vijaya, ran from the scene, seeing it was a mad dog.

The dog placed my arm between his jaws, but by the grace of God I could pull away. The poor thing had no strength left to bite; he was mere bones with a little hair only. His eyes were rolling crazily. I tried to escape – he cornered me again and bit – just lightly, not into the flesh. A third time he got my arm into his jaws.

Then I heard the yelling of David our godly water boy. He had seen from afar and was running to the scene. The dog looked around and I quickly ran off to the computer room and locked the veranda from inside! The dog was chased away and wasn’t heard from again. Saved again by Swami!

Now, the pups got older and were tromping around with their mother. Then the orders came from Jnaneswari that they must be carted away to another village (she always gives these orders when puppies are seen around).

Lucky Prince escaped that day, but his two brothers were thrown into gunny sacks and taken to a far-off village. They were not heard from again. A two-day lull, and due to complaints from Jnaneswari, Prince was captured one morning and tied up near the well. The plan was to cart him off also, maybe that evening when time permitted.

Now I was in my room and hard frantic, urgent SOS calls. What was it? I went outside. Clearly I heard, “OH MY PROTECTOR! DIVYA! I HAVE BEEN CAPTURED! I WILL SURELY PERISH! SAVE ME, SAVE ME!! OHHHH!!” (Just kidding, but the yelps made me think of that!)

Sniffing something gone amok, I went towards the sound of the distressful calls. There was Prince, his neck red from straining on the crude, thick piece of string they tied him to, crying pitiful.

No one was in sight, I quickly untied the rope and cuddled him in my arms. Then the workers came – “Hey! You let him go! We have our orders from Jnaneswari, we must cart him away.”

I answered, “Yes, I have no objection. How can I object? But if you want to cart him away, it must be immediately, not tying him up for hours and hours, left to cry and cry! Do you not know that Swami Chidanandaji of Rishikesh is just there in yonder cottage? You know how he loves animals! Why, just yesterday he saw a dog with hurt leg on his morning walk. He immediately ordered it to be treated in the hospital. He was enquired about it also, several times since then. What would he say if he also heard the yelps of this helpless creature?”

With that, I marched off to my room with the grateful Prince in my arms. No further attempts were made to capture him.

After our trip to Kotagiri he had become big. I was compassionately giving him food with my own dog Vijay. He was also a good, bold and fearless playmate to the dull, lazy and courage-less Vijaya.

Now I called Prince to me. “Prince,” I said, “You have become big, how can I support two dogs? Kindly go out in the world, and find your own place to guard and settle in. This is Vijay’s territory. Go, go.”

He answered, “Divya! I am yet just a puppy! How can you send me away like this?”

I said, “No, my dear, you are quite big enough. Now, go and search.”

This went on several days. He would always give me a sad look and walk off sadly. In the afternoon or evening, he would return and say, “Divya! I have searched and searched. Where there is someone to feed me, there is already a dog on watch. Where there is empty land, there is no food in sight. Kindly give me something to eat, I am starving, I will try again tomorrow.”

After some weeks I stopped asking and he also stopped wandering. Now and then, I had to rescue him from his father or elder brother Vijaya, who got jealous now and then adn would try to attack him. Every evening he would sit by the Mandir for puja and satsang and stare at me from the door until the satsang was over and I gave him the holy water (with milk) and prasad from the puja.

Prince was a fully courageous and daring dog. He was as fearless as his father and that is why I gave him the name of Prince, the one who could take over as king after his father; in fact, sometimes I would threaten Vijaya, “What a hopeless creature you are! The embodiment of fear! When thieves come you run far, far away, while your brother Prince barks viciously and tries to bite them. I think it is better I raise Prince - you can go, scat.” Vijay would always give me a look of contempt and answer, “Bah, humbug. I am your dog just as I am, for better or for worse and that’s that!”

On 28 August, I woke from a beautiful and rare dream of Swami giving Darshan in a large hall. I was in the front and He came near, close and clear, and was saying something I couldn’t hear. He also talked to others compassionately and then went out. Then, in that same hall came Swami Chidanandaji, smiling joyfully. He came to me and was talking nicely - I could see every feature so clearly, just like I had seen Swami. A blissful experience!

On that very morning, Prince came making strange sounds. He couldn’t open his mouth; he couldn’t eat. “What has happened Prince? Say something!” But he could only look at me with love and distress, and his eyes said, “Alas! I cannot open my mouth! Ah, my protector! What will be my fate now? Alas! Alas!”

How could I take him to the hospital? He was a big and sick dog, we have no vehicle to get him there and many dogs are in the path, waiting to kill any intruder. I kept quiet, hoping he would get better.

Afternoon came; he came as usual at 2 PM for meals. But he couldn’t eat and couldn’t even open his mouth. I asked him, “Prince! Your stomach is bloated. What did you eat? Or did a snake bite you?” He just stared at me with full love, repeating with his eyes, “Alas! Alas! What will be my fate?”

At 4 PM he went straight to the Mandir. He climbed the steps. He stared into the open door at Swami Omkar’s statue inside. Then he slowly climbed down and lay down on the ground directly in front of the Mandir, at the foot of the steps where they make the rangoli design. He put his head up, stared at the Mandir with open eyes, and breathed his last! Thus the special and short life of Prince came to an end.

Everyone was all praise for his Divine end, at the feet of the Lord. We buried him nicely and in satsang said “OM” thrice for the peace of his soul.

Dad may or may not remember me introducing one chubby happy-looking lady as my “satsang friend”. We always sat together as our voices blended perfectly. If either or neither of us came to satsang, everyone would complain that the songs were dull, slow-moving and induced sleep. Many people didn’t like coming if we weren’t here, including us!

Her husband and her were sure to show up at every puja, sitting by side to do puja together. They were such a loving couple! Even in satsang, they would steal glances at one another.

The very day after the popular Vara Lakshmi puja (Lakshmi the give of boons, especially popular with householders for obvious reasons!) which involved getting up for hair wash at 3 AM, and making special prasadams, and all day pujas, both husband and wife came down with fever.

Only after a week they went for testing in a decent hospital in another town. Too late – they both had Typhoid and my dear friend succumbed to it! Her husband wasn’t told, for fear his heart would stop in an instant. Whilst the whole family was weeping and wailing, he was carted off to some distance hospital in another town.

The husband (who was in charge of the kitchen storeroom here, and buying vegetables for the ashram every week) had a bed sore and a catheter. They were telling him that his wife is recovering in her sister’s house. It seems he was daily roaring, “How can she be away from me?! Bring her here immediately!!” And relatives answered, “Yes, she will definitely come soon. We will call her.”

Then the husband also died, less than two weeks after his beloved wife. Everyone here are really praising such a departure, for good reason. Wife dies first (most auspicious!), husband dies soon after, not even knowing or suffering sorrow that she was gone. May they both rest in peace!

Padmamma wrote that in Prasanthi Nilayam for the benefit of Ashramites, they have put up a giant screen on top of the North Indian Canteen, and they are showing the weekly TV show about Sathya Sai on it every Sunday. Padmamma wrote that she went there once only. What did she experience? The usual going early for reserving the best places, fighting over space, plenty of gossiping while waiting for the show to begin, etc. She said the atmosphere was awful! Now she is peacefully watching it in the house of her maid, with only three or four silent others.

As for Kotagiri, you are right when you say it is mostly a summer resort where people come to enjoy the cool weather. The Kotagiri crowd never comes to this main ashram and visa-versa.

The ones in charge tell the people that this is not a summer hotel and that people coming here should only be interested in spiritual practices. So they demand a steep monthly donation requirement to discourage people who are not serious. The result is, as I see it, that all the real spiritual aspirants drop the idea of going to Kotagiri as they cannot afford it; whilst the spoiled rich and nose-in-air types go there to compete in wearing the most amount of jewels and wearing the nicest saris.

Except for the few devotees Jnaneswari takes with her (the ones in charge in Kotagiri cannot demand money from Jnaneswari’s guests; if they could, we wouldn’t go!), no one from here can afford to go there. Bah! next summer I definitely plan to stay put here with other simple and poor aspirants. I feel suffocated with all the competitions among the rich.

As you say, a comedy movie should be made of “Travels with Jnaneswari’ with the 45 bags. But that is nothing compared to Swami Chidanandaji! Wherever he goes, he needs a separate van or truck sometimes, for all the uncountable amount of bags accompanying him. Wherever he goes, they load him with 10 or 20 more bags and suitcases of gift luggage! It is said in India that Swamis and famous other renunciates have the most amount of luggage!

As a side note, the last time Swami Chidananda left our ashram he asked for a few flasks for the train ride: one with hot soup, one with hot water, one with hot milk, one with ice water. The flasks were never seen again.

Jnaneswari is making reservations for Rishikesh visit in early October – she asked if I would come and I said no! I feel like staying quiet, not weeks of adventures in a noisy party of people, in the outside world!

Well another long letter! I am pretty helpless. Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu!

Love,

Divya