Purushotaman entered the bus terminus. The chaos he encountered was overwhelming. He placed his trust in a tout, and was pleased to secure a seat on a Super Deluxe Airbus. As he waited, he watched the dust and pandemonium in the bus terminus. Everyone went about their business. The vendors, beggars, touts and assorted travelers. Soon, a run down bus backed into the bay in front, rattling loudly, and emitting sporadic bursts of black smoke. It was the Super Deluxe Airbus. The words were emblazoned in bold letters on its side. Purushotaman got in. Inside it was an oven. A dank smell of sweat and damp cloth and unwashed bodies hung in the air. People carried their large suitcases, baskets of farm produce and all manner of goods on-board, filling the aisle, the overhead compartments and even the roof racks.
Soon the bus moved. This brought relief from the still and humid air. Now there was a constant blast of dusty hot air coming through the windows. Purushotaman sat - uncomfortable in his threadbare seat. The arm rests were missing, and the screws which had once held them poked his forearms. And then the passenger in front decided to recline his chair. This brought his head on Purushotaman’s lap. The journey lasted 3 hours.
Prashanti Nilayam. The name conjured magic. The Avatar Himself is here. As he neared the place, Swami’s photos were everywhere. His projects were everywhere too. Sathya Sai Water Project, Super Speciality Hospital, schools, colleges.
Purushotaman was excited as he made his way into the ashram. He dragged his suitcase and enquired about accommodation.
“Block N-8 saar. Faraners accommodation.”
It was a good distance. Purushotaman was sweating and tired as he reached Block N-8.
“Sairam. Please sit down saar.”
“Sairam. I come from Malaysia. I need a room for 2 days.”
“Sary saar. No accommodation available.”
This was unexpected. Purushotaman sat and stared at the man.
“All rooms full,” the man added, to drive home the point.
“You can try hotels outside.”
Purushotaman collected his things and began the long trek back outside. After several inquiries, he managed to get a decent room. The rental was steep, and the facility bare. But he was contented. He thanked Swami for the room.
***
Purushotaman decided to have lunch at the Ashram Canteen. He was in a long slow moving line. He was hungry and tired, and the shoving and pushing and queue jumpers added to his misery. At last he was at the front of the line.
“Sairam. 2 chapattis please.”
“No money. Only token.” The man waved him on.
Purushotaman asked around and was pointed to another long slow-moving line outside.
Finally he got his chapatti. He said his prayer and took his first mouthful.
***
It was Dharshan time. As Purushotaman tried to walk in, the seva dal stopped him. “Saar, no bag, no book. Purushotaman looked at the articles in his hands. Someone pointed out the cloak room. He queued up. As he reached the front, the man was brusque. “You read sign. Only cell-phone.” And he started dealing with the next person in the line. Looked like he had no choice except to go back to the hotel room to leave the things. Suddenly it started drizzling heavily.
Purushotaman sat in the Dharshan hall. He was wet. The floor was cold and hard. The crowd was jabbering away in a cacophony of languages, drowning out the sweet melodies of the Vedic chanting. Then, a sudden calm. Heads were bobbing up. Swami was here ! Purushotaman strained to catch a glimpse. Suddenly, a spot of orange in the sea of white. Tears flowed. He was no longer wet. The floor was no longer cold. Nothing else existed except him and Swami. He was in bliss.
***
Purushotaman was due to leave after this Dharshan. He watched the slight figure in orange wheeled out of the hall. He continued to watch until the very last moment. As he left the hall, he was already planning his next trip. To the Abode of Peace.
Soon the bus moved. This brought relief from the still and humid air. Now there was a constant blast of dusty hot air coming through the windows. Purushotaman sat - uncomfortable in his threadbare seat. The arm rests were missing, and the screws which had once held them poked his forearms. And then the passenger in front decided to recline his chair. This brought his head on Purushotaman’s lap. The journey lasted 3 hours.
Prashanti Nilayam. The name conjured magic. The Avatar Himself is here. As he neared the place, Swami’s photos were everywhere. His projects were everywhere too. Sathya Sai Water Project, Super Speciality Hospital, schools, colleges.
Purushotaman was excited as he made his way into the ashram. He dragged his suitcase and enquired about accommodation.
“Block N-8 saar. Faraners accommodation.”
It was a good distance. Purushotaman was sweating and tired as he reached Block N-8.
“Sairam. Please sit down saar.”
“Sairam. I come from Malaysia. I need a room for 2 days.”
“Sary saar. No accommodation available.”
This was unexpected. Purushotaman sat and stared at the man.
“All rooms full,” the man added, to drive home the point.
“You can try hotels outside.”
Purushotaman collected his things and began the long trek back outside. After several inquiries, he managed to get a decent room. The rental was steep, and the facility bare. But he was contented. He thanked Swami for the room.
***
Purushotaman decided to have lunch at the Ashram Canteen. He was in a long slow moving line. He was hungry and tired, and the shoving and pushing and queue jumpers added to his misery. At last he was at the front of the line.
“Sairam. 2 chapattis please.”
“No money. Only token.” The man waved him on.
Purushotaman asked around and was pointed to another long slow-moving line outside.
Finally he got his chapatti. He said his prayer and took his first mouthful.
***
It was Dharshan time. As Purushotaman tried to walk in, the seva dal stopped him. “Saar, no bag, no book. Purushotaman looked at the articles in his hands. Someone pointed out the cloak room. He queued up. As he reached the front, the man was brusque. “You read sign. Only cell-phone.” And he started dealing with the next person in the line. Looked like he had no choice except to go back to the hotel room to leave the things. Suddenly it started drizzling heavily.
Purushotaman sat in the Dharshan hall. He was wet. The floor was cold and hard. The crowd was jabbering away in a cacophony of languages, drowning out the sweet melodies of the Vedic chanting. Then, a sudden calm. Heads were bobbing up. Swami was here ! Purushotaman strained to catch a glimpse. Suddenly, a spot of orange in the sea of white. Tears flowed. He was no longer wet. The floor was no longer cold. Nothing else existed except him and Swami. He was in bliss.
***
Purushotaman was due to leave after this Dharshan. He watched the slight figure in orange wheeled out of the hall. He continued to watch until the very last moment. As he left the hall, he was already planning his next trip. To the Abode of Peace.
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