He knocks at our door…

How does Bhagawan walk into a devotee’s life? In this vast expanse of creation called world, He alone is the ‘Doer’ and thus owns the script for every single action, be it in the physical plane and in the planes beyond. When one looks into His myriad mysterious ways, with a tinge of belief,  he will know that He does the right thing, at the right moment, for the right person, with the right intent. Read on the story of Mrs & Mr Sitaram, from the UK, of their entry into the ‘Sai Fold’, as narratied by Mr Manian of ‘Anandavikatan’, a Tamil Fortnightly, originally published in the same magazine. Extracted from Sanathana Sarathi, December, 1972.
Our car stopped in front of a house at Pinner. The name board ‘Om Sai’ welcomed us. We pressed the calling bell. An elderly lady opened the door and said, “Come in, Manian! Come, Lalitha!” We entered the drawing room, heavily carpeted and artistically kept. There was the fragrance of incense in the air. In a few minutes, the master was seen descending the stairs, with his genial voice and a beaming smile. “Come, Come,” he was saying, invitingly. We knew it was Mr Sitaram. “I was yearning since years to meet you. This is Sai Baba’s House. He has a room for Himself, here. Come up and see,” he said.

We went up the steps. There, we saw a portrait of Sathya Sai Baba, tastefully decorated; it thrilled us to the core. “Has He visited this place?” I enquired. Mrs Sitaram entered the shrine, with the words, “He is here! If we delay the evening Arati a few minutes any day, He knocks the door to alert us!” I looked at her in amazement. “Yes! Every evening we have Arati at 5:30. If we are unfortunately engrossed elsewhere, He knocks and reminds. We won’t find anyone inside the shrine! ‘Pardon us, Krishna’, I would say, and wave the Arati singing the Arati song – Why? You find it hard to believe, do you? Well, You are the very person who brought Baba to us!”

“How is that? Me, bringing Baba to you?” I wondered. It was Sitaram who spoke now: “Yes, Mr Manian! You opened our eyes and hearts, so that He may enter. That has made our lives worthwhile. We have every week Bhajan sessions in this house. Many brothers and sisters, British and Indian, join us those days. His Grace, His Divine Miracles have won them over to Faith in God. “If it is your will that I should marry this man who has proposed to me, let that flower on your picture fall into my hand,” prayed a girl; and, it fell right into her palm! Direct answers to prayer are a daily act of Grace here. Why, the fact that I did not know of Him while in India, but, only later, when I came here  – that itself is a miracle. Isn’t it?

“Just a little doubt,” “How did I bring Him to you?” I interceded. He said, “Some years ago, you had published in the ‘Anandavikatan’ of Madras a review of the Tamil version of the biography of Baba. That drew me to Him. I am now conveying my gratitude to you.” I said I had not gone to Him, as yet. “Try, as soon as you reach home,” he advised. After lunch, during which they told me many incidents revealing Baba’s constant Presence with them and others in Britain as elsewhere, I drove back to London. We sat silent and stunned. “Could it be true? How could it be untrue?” We were tossed on the waves of exhilaration and expectation.

Jack who was at the wheel of the taxi interrupted the stream of thought,”Sir! Was that the name of the gentleman? Om Sai?” I told him of Sai and the Grace and Glory of Sai as related by Sitaram. Jack advised me when I finished, “Ah, what a wonderful land is India! Its greatness rests on the eternal truths discovered and treasured in the ancient past. Do not, for humanity’s sake, discard the treasure in the pursuit of what is called progress and development.” I took leave of him at the airport, where I boarded the plane to Paris.