Tar Blankets, Tower Building & Daily Schedule

July 23, 2000

Dear Mom,

Namaskars! First, although I am writing separate letters, both are for all four eyes (or actually eight eyes, including glasses!) (or 14 eyes, including other family members) (or even more eyes, as you wish!).

Glad you are enjoying the Discourse excerpts. You said you were discouraged about mental thoughts staying with us after death. It may be sad but I believe it's true. We may lose our physical bodies but our mental makeup remains intact.

Recently I've been reading a book by one Swami and he states that it is only highly evolved spiritual souls that reach higher realms (like those described by Yukteswarji). The others, the ones who will have to be reborn again on earth, hover around here, near places and people they are drawn to, and work out subtle Karmas. (You may say you won't like to be anywhere, but our wishes can’t always be fulfilled, especially when karma is there to work out!).

So, the point is that we have to strive to make best and peaceful life here because no great miracles are going to happen when we give up the body. It is no wonder Easwaramma continues to haunt Sathya Sai Baba (as he mentioned in a recent discourse) with her fears and anxieties after death, just how she haunted Sai in the same way when alive!

Here, I keep three small boxes (size of about 1½ a shoe-box) with small supplies for occasional needs for me and others, like pins, pens, medicines, glue etc. Although I have so few things, my house is known as a general store, medical shop, paper mart, cool drinks shop (I keep drink concentrate ready for any thirsty wayfarers, though it is room temperature, not cold!), cassette lending library and bank, all in one! I always have two of nearly everything, in case someone really in need, needs something (like flashlight, clock etc.).

You asked about the rats. Well, I wanted to spare you the irritating details, so I have kept quiet all this time. As you remember, they put the tar blanket upon my cottage roof. The four sides were warped with huge openings for ratlings to dodge in. My complaints fell upon deaf ears. I could only sigh, "INDIA!" and keep quiet. I climbed up on a ladder (they had left the one they used for several weeks after the work finished) and fixed big stones on the four corners, to weigh down the tar blanket.

Then what happened, during the big winds and light rains, one strip of tar blanket (they had fixed three over my roof, length-wise) flew to the other side of the roof! You guessed it, it was not secured properly. Now the ratlings had free reign again.

I showed it to the chief mason and engineer. They commented in their own charming Indian way, "Yes, all the other tar blankets that we fixed on other cottages in the Ashram, also flew away! We thought yours was OK. Never mind, we will get a stronger type of tar and re-apply them."

They contacted a knowledgeable expert and after more weeks, they came and deftly removed the blankets, swept all the baby and adult ratlings away and re-applied the blankets with lots of tar.

First they made a make-shift stove right outside my window, with stones laid around and sticks from the mango groves. Then they took a tar-encrusted tin bucket on the stove and lit the fire. In the meantime, they opened a sack of coal-like pieces and with a handy near-by rock, crushed them into powder and sprinkled it into the bucket.

After a long time of cooking, the mixture became thick, gooey and boiling. They removed it from the fire and poured some liquid tar from a container into it. As the mixture bubbled up, they climbed the ladder with it to my roof. They re-applied the tar blankets with the sticky mixture. Of course, it cooled off quickly so they kept coming down to boil it again, feeding the fire with sticks and gossiping happily with each other.

You should have seen them working! They had on the typical Indian working gear: thin shorts ending above the knees, torn T-shirts when they wore them at all, and bare feet. To apply the tar mixture they held a stick in their hand, with mop-like cloths secured to it. They held the bucket with the boiling tar, with a piece of torn sari rag I gave them, and slopped on the tar.

Later, after securing the tar blankets, they painted the whole surface with tar. On bended knees, in bare feet, with bare hands they clutched the rag I gave them and dipped it in the bucket and painted the surface with tar, no stick this time. What a sight! I should have taken a photo. Later they asked me for kerosene to wash their hands, but I didn't have any (Divya's General Store lacks this one item!). So they said, "Never mind, we'll wash down (by the office)." I could just imagine them washing with kerosene, then with soap, and eating dinner with the same hands an hour later.

After they worked from 8 AM till 6 PM with a three-hour lunch break, I saw that the pieces were secured nicely but the ends have gaps again. I pointed this out to the three workers and they said, "The work is not over today! There is still work to be done. We will come tomorrow and pour something else on top to secure it."

That was four days ago. Their tar-buckets, tar-containers and cloths remain outside my doorstep (as well as tar stains on my verandah, and black tar powder where they crushed the solid pieces), but no sign of the workers. The first night it seemed to me that I heard some ratlings scratching the tiles-maybe trying to escape from their entombment? But no, they have survived. So silly of me to think ratlings could be ousted by an Indian job! They are running in the gaps and carrying on family life as usual. Every morning I continue to sweep up rat poo pellets, sprinkled throughout the room and bathroom.

I wanted to only convey this only after the story was finished, but obviously it is still on-going. They said that they entombed a batch of newly born ratlings, but if their mother can't get to them (which I doubt), I guess I won't smell the stench of rotting ratlings as the tar smell is overwhelming everything else. Already I had to take two anti-histamines in the last week, when normally I take only one or two a year! Scratchy eyes, sneezes, headache and nose running like a water faucet. I guess I'm allergic to tar! Great luck! (After taking the two pills, I've been all right these last few days)

Next new news is the big electric thing they are building. I don't know what it's called, the Indians just say "Big Stumbham" a Stumbham can be any type of pillar. However, I sneaked and read the agenda for the next big meeting sent to Jnaneswari (on the 28th), and on it I saw an item concerning the 'Stumbham' and it was called "500 kV transmission line." For now just the base is there.

Where are they building? Right next to me! Now, see in your mind's eye my humble cottage. Got it? Now go mentally down the line to the other cottage that looks just like mine - which Parvatamma used to live in. Ready? Now walk in that same line twenty paces, and there you have the first of four pits dug for the base of the tower!

A hole about 10 or 15 feet across, and 10 feet deep. They put up the base of the tower, big iron rods. One foot was placed in the pit, then covered on all sides with metal enclosures, then they poured cement in about a foot deep. Then they poured in good ole' Shanti Ashram mud, that's the stage they are at.

I go to see the sight every evening, when it is vacant with no people, from 6 to 7 PM. It seems rectangular, with about 3 of my cottages fitting across two sides and another 3 or 4 cottages on the other two sides. Pretty big, and right near my house! I guess I need not mention the noisy workers and cement machines going on all day for over a month now. Only the five-foot base is up, still they have to build the rest of the tower.

Next about the dog troubles! This also I was waiting for the end of the story, but it goes on and on. The Kaurava dogs are coming up daily, eager for blood and battle. They come in the middle of evening Satsang and fall on our innocent two Pandava dogs. During the day they come also, for fun, with no reason or season.

At night I keep Vijaya in my room (he stays stationed on the doormat and doesn't budge till morning) and Mangamma is kept on the Computer room verandah, to protect them. The Donga Kaurava dogs come eagerly at night, to rip them to shreds, but they are protected behind bars. During the day stray people are there to shoo away the Kaurava dogs.

The authorities tried stationing a guard at the gate which worked nicely for two days, but then the person whoever it was, retired. Then they tried capturing the dogs with ropes - no go. Again they tried mixing liquid poison to do away with them. The dogs smelt it and ran away fast! Such a terrible stench had it.

Now they tried Anastasia biscuits, hoping to get them asleep for an hour to take them far away in the van. The four dogs ate up all the biscuits. They didn't even feel sleepy. Now we hear of a more powerful sleep-inducing biscuit available only in Kakinada. They will buy that in a day or two.

If that also doesn't work, no go but to call the city authorities who deal with dogs in a terrible way. They beat them to death with sticks and pour the bodies in a big mass-grave dug nearby! No injections for permanent sleep around here, alas! (David the water boy recently told me how they did this in his small hovel-like village recently, over 100 dogs met their last moments cruelly and painfully.)

Recently this Kaurava dog batch killed a lamb in cold blood, that got separated from its kin while being walked by the canal. Everyone knows about this and is frightened now about the three new-born and tender calves in the Ashram. They are put into resident's houses during the night, for protection! Some time back a mean dog batch (maybe this same one!) killed and ate up a baby calf, and since then the Ashramites have been wary.

As for health experts who say drinking a lot of water will do away with all ill health: water may be good for health but the only way one can be totally free from illnesses is not to have any karma to work out!!

Just as I am finishing this letter, Jnaneswari suddenly went to Hyderabad with Kumari and Vinamra. Someone died and they went to see the family. Jnaneswari might be delayed at the house of the Hyderabad billionaires who have been pestering her to join them since long. Vinamra might stay on for some days to get treatment from her Uncle doctor - a bone specialist. So much for them attending the big planning meeting here on the 28th! Decisions will have to be made without them.

Yes, I guess we both do spend our days similarly. Usually in the morning I finish with mediation, bath, cleaning and sweeping room, washing and hanging up clothes etc., by 7:30. Then until 8:30 I eat something and do some light works on the computer.

Then I go for the last bit of Satsang. That ends by 9. By 9:30 I'm at the computer until 12 noon, with frequent breaks to drink water or get fresh air for a minute or two. At 12 for a few minutes I relax and close my eyes, resting them, and saying some Japa.

By 12:30 I go to kitchen duties: giving food-offering to the crows, filling the worker boy's carriers, putting food on the table for everyone, preparing Jnaneswari's food tray. Then when all are eating I go and fold the clothes Jnaneswari washed in the morning, boil water for myself, fill my own food carrier and wash the vessels on Jnaneswari's tray.

Afterward I go straight home and have lunch. By then it's 2:30. I read for half an hour or an hour to relax, before I turn on the computer again until 5:30 or 6 PM. Once or twice a week I go to Jnaneswari's room with the laptop from 4-6 PM, and she dictates letters to be printed.

At 5:30 or 6 PM I go walking with the dogs, a little exercise from the sedentary life! We go up to the Siva Linga on the hill, and all around that area. By 6:30 or 6:45 I'm back, sweaty and ready for a bath. After bath I stroll leisurely into Satsang by 7:30. By 8:30 Satsang is over and I'm back in the room, usually by the computer until 9:30 or 10 PM.

Guru Purnima Discourse: It is interesting that Swami gave advise about killing others. Maybe there were murderers in the audience!

He also said nothing bad ever happened to Him. The Fateful night of the 6 murders in His Mandir is a glaring case in point. Maybe He means to Him personally, or maybe He means that everything that happens is GOOD FOR US! Interestingly, this was NOT included in the Book Shop translation sheet. Wonder if they will put it in Sanathana Sarathi?

Well, more long letters for you! Now back to Guru Purnima discourse! Hope to be done with it soon, to enclose the notes in this letter. Keep yourself well! Good luck with all your hopes and dreams! LOKA SAMASTHA SUKHINO BHAVANTU!

Love,

Divya