His Presence is The Presence…The Presence that the entire creation is
indebted to…The Presence that is the source of our life and
sustenance…The Presence that is the Final Destination of
everything…Students are the special lot, special pick, who were given
the boon to draw the best out of His physical presence…and when they
let out the whiff of ‘His Presence’ to the world, it spreads around
engulfing everyone with the Fragrance Of His Love…His Light…

Read on ‘The Presence’ by Dr. Sunam Gyamtso Tenzin, who was conferred
with a PhD in esoteric Buddhism from SSSIHL after completing his
pre-university, undergraduation and Master’s in Bhagawan’s
Institutions.

“How did you know about Swami?” is perhaps one of the oft repeated
questions that a devotee is asked. This has a few other variants such
as “How did Swami come into your life?” (Of course a wrong question
because He never came from elsewhere, He was always there); or “How or
why did you become His devotee?” (Of which most of us are ignorant
since the answer would be as abstract as “Why did He pick me?”) One
can be certain that of the teeming millions that throng the hallowed
grounds of Prasanthi Nilayam, each individual has diverse and unique
experiences to narrate about the way in which he or she was brought
into His Divine Fold. It is astounding to note this variety and
diversity of experiences created by Bhagawan, emblematic of the adage
– Ekoham Bahusyam.

Despite these varied entry points, what inevitably follows the first
initiation is the phenomenon of transformation. Whoever is thus
brought in His Presence and proximity, begins to drift away from his
age-old egocentric moorings to the yonder regions of selflessness and
love. A Sai Sadhak recently made this admission in a radio interview –
“The first change was in the tone and tenor of my speech. My once
caustic tongue suddenly took a mellow turn. I could no longer be
mordant and abusive in my newly acquired tone.” What happens
thereafter in this joyride of individual transformation is something
that cannot be described in words. It has to be experienced first and
then understood.

In many cases such understanding dawns much later in life when one
reviews the past sequence of experiences in retrospect and then
realizes that the difficult times that had been then ascribed to
Bhagawan’s ‘wrath’ or ‘wanton negligence’ were but shadows cast by His
Hands lifted to save and liberate. Another savant put it in a cruder
but matter-of-fact way – “All of us devotees in varying measures are
but transformed rogues.” It is only to guide ignorant humankind along
the pathway of righteousness that God has taken a tangible form and
name SAI – the confluence of Service or Karma, Adoration or Bhakti and
Illumination or Jnana. Transcending His Name and Form, SAI is the
universal abstraction that embodies the way and the goal,
Transformation and the Transcendental Awareness of His Presence.

I am presenting here a select repertoire of real-life experiences that
veer round the phenomenon of Transformation. The objective of these
narratives is definitely not to present another thesis on His
miracles, which He often describes as His ‘visiting cards’. Miracles
happen every moment in and around us. We only need ‘the eyes to see
and ears to hear them’. The purpose is to juxtapose these with the
phenomenon of transformation – the evolution of a devotee’s life
through these miracles. We are all living testimonies of His ‘Miracle
of Transformation’. But how do we know that we are transformed or
undergoing the process? Well, the external symptoms are a change in
one’s attitude towards others, feeling the inner pricks of one’s
conscience and being able to heed those pricks, being aware of the
need to be free from vices and addictions, discovering a new fillip to
sing His Glory and help other fellow beings in a spirit of selfless
love and compassion. The inner experience is a sublime and profound
state of ‘being in charge’ again, of being pure and immaculate, of
being closer to one’s own identity, of feeling His omnipresence or
living all the time in His Presence.

I had a rare experience as a student in Brindavan. A number of
students perhaps inspired by the array of Swami’s cars, had got the
impression that Bhagawan was fond of new cars. At one time Swami sent
off a small team of four senior students-turned lecturers to Singapore
to receive and bring a new Mercedes Car that a devotee had offered to
Swami. All four of them were given identical suits and hats and even a
set of travel gear with strict instructions to receive the car and
return home. From the moment they set sail for Singapore, Swami would
spend a good part of the evening Bungalow (now Trayee) Session giving
running commentaries on the movements of His four stalwarts.

One evening, a flushed and excited looking Swami suddenly declared –
“My boys will come today”. For the votaries of the
Swami’s-fondness-for-cars theory, this appeared to be the absolute
confirmation of their belief. Despite a prolonged evening session, the
expected harbingers didn’t arrive and Swami after remarking – “Kya Kar
Sakta Hai” (What can be done?) took Aarthi and retired upstairs. This
happened the next evening too. On the ensuing day, Swami ‘predicted’
that the foursome would not come and took an early Aarthi. Soon after
that, around 8 pm, our dear lecturers arrived with their priceless
consignment, a deep green colored sparkling car. Bhagawan virtually
rushed downstairs and blessed the car describing its various contours
and even went on a nocturnal test-drive till Segehalli.

The critiques cast by the boys that evening on this phenomenon could
have made a fat book. The next day, Swami didn’t ride the new car as
expected and in the next few days, He left for Prasanthi Nilayam in
His old car. Ultimately a senior devotee prayed to Swami to reveal the
mystery of this car-phenomenon. Swami said –Many people mistakenly
think that I have a weakness for cars. Yad Bhavam Tad Bhavati is My
answer to that. My fondest cars are – Chamat-kaar (miracles), that I
perform to bring about Sams-kaar (transformation of individuals),
which results in the transformed devotees taking to the path of
selfless and loving service Paropa-kaar, which ultimately leads to
Ishwar-Sakshat-kaar or God realization. The world had to learn two
things from this phenomenon – firstly that He is the reflection,
resound and reaction of our own thoughts and beliefs, uninhibited by
the conventional definitions of God that we are all used to; and
secondly that Bhagawan only cares about our transformation and nothing
else.

Another occasion, on the brink of despondency, I fervently prayed to
Him and He promptly responded. I was then a pre-university student.
“Kaheko castor oil face?” (Meaning why do you look downcast) He asked
in His inimitable way. I was alone with Him in the interview room at
Brindavan. With a sudden lump in my throat, I told Him that I felt a
void within me since the time I had seen revered monks in the Rumtek
Monastery in Eastern Sikkim partaking of animal meat and liquor. Their
hypocrisy had turned me into a non-believer and that I was
disillusioned and confused. The next moment, as I was gazing at His
Lotus Feet and the hem of His Robe, He spoke two sentences to me in
chaste Tibetan that had me spell-bound. For the next 20 minutes or
more, He spoke to me about Chagya-Chenpo or Mahamudra, most of which I
didn’t understand. But the sum and substance of the teaching that I
gathered was that, accomplished seers are never affected by the
mundane attributes for they are beyond the bounds of dualities. For
them, any matter is only a conglomerate of the five elements, be it
meat or vegetable, stone or sand, water or liquor. It was wrong on my
part to doubt and criticize the acts of such eminent potentates,
instead of observing my own spiritual progress. It was as though a
veil had been lifted from my clouded psyche.

The sequel to this experience continued 13 years later when He created
the most conducive circumstances for me to undertake doctoral research
in Esoteric Buddhism in His University. As I delved through the Tantra
doctrines, realization struck me that way back on that memorable
morning, He had indeed initiated in me the Mahamudra Tantra, the basic
Tantra practised by the Karmapa School of the Kagyudpa Buddhist
lineage of which Rumtek is the second highest seat. A misanthropist
had been transformed into a persevering seeker that morning, although
the fact remains that even such close revelations have made little
dent into my stubborn ego. The ‘process’ is still on, and He has never
given up on me.

The year was 2002 and the occasion – His Divine Birthday. We had
acquired a patch of land measuring approximately 20 acres in the
mountain fastnesses of south Sikkim in the vicinity of a tiny hamlet
called Majitar. On the sacrosanct day, a dear brother of mine and I
spent the entire day amidst the sylvan surroundings of this land along
with a select group of fellow devotees, doing the Bhumi Puja for the
construction of Bhagawan’s School and Divine residence in Sikkim. Late
in the evening, the two of us had the opportunity to participate in
the Birthday Celebrations at Namchi, the district headquarters of
south Sikkim. It was almost 9 pm when we left Namchi for Gangtok. As
we reached an uphill tea estate called Temi-Tarku, we came across a
large gathering of devotees braving the prevailing darkness and cold.

Seated underneath a makeshift shed, they were ‘celebrating His
Birthday’. The time was a little past 10 and the winding stretch of
road looked desolate. This was the only time that these people most of
whom were garden labourers living on the edge of poverty, could afford
the time for the celebration since all the day hours are spent in
bone-breaking labour to earn two morsels. We sat there enraptured and
transfixed seeing them sing Bhajans around a beautifully decorated
altar. Every pair of eyes sparkled with the joy of inner contentment
and spiritual awakening. No one could have been richer and happier and
wiser than those devotees of Swami who epitomized the biblical maxim –
‘Blessed are those who haven’t seen and yet have believed’, for almost
all of them had never been to Prasanthi Nilayam and seen Swami in
person.

A German devotee while trekking in Dzongu, an exclusive reserve for
the Lepcha tribe in northern Sikkim, found a group of these people
seated around a campfire singing folksongs and sipping swigs of chang
– a country brew. What flabbergasted him was a mural painting known as
Thangka that depicted Bhagawan wearing a Tibetan robe, bearing
mongoloid features and seated on a throne. He learnt from the group
that they regarded the persona on the Thangka, gifted to them by a
fakir, as their native God of hunting.

A handsome looking kid with a gaping hole where his right eye once
belonged sat with his father in the second class coach of the
Madras-bound Coromandel Express. They were labourers from the Takdah
Tea Estate in Darjeeling. The father told me that he was going to
Prasanthi Nilayam to offer his only son to Bhagawan in gratitude. With
a bit of prodding, he told me that his son had once fallen from a
precipice while trying to save his sister and had his right eye
impaled on a fence. Somehow he reconciled with his son’s fate.
Sometime later, his son contracted some disease in his left eye which
had turned red and swollen. The village witch-doctor ascribed the
malady to the play of malignant spirits. He inserted tiny particles of
crushed glass beads in the boy’s eyes and beat him with a stick to
exorcise the spirits. As a result, the boy bled profusely and lost
complete vision of the left eye too. The aggrieved father blamed God
for being merciless and scooping up a handful of ash from the hearth,
smeared it on his son, consigning him to the mercy of Kirateswara,
their family deity. That night, the boy dreamt that Bhagawan (whom he
recognized instantly since he had been attending Bhajans in the
neighborhood), wearing a white gown took him in a car. At a wayside
cottage, Swami ushered the boy inside a room and made him lie down on
a table. Producing a sharp instrument, Swami thrust it into the boy’s
eye. Pus and broken glass particles began to ooze out of the damaged
eye. The boy woke up to find that the intense pain was completely
gone. His shirt was sodden with the flowing matter. The next morning,
he narrated this to his father who gingerly removed the bandage to
find his boy’s eye intact and healed. Now dear reader, please don’t
start wondering why Swami did not heal the other eye too. He alone is
conversant with the karmic logbook of every individual. A miracle is
but a matter of 100 percent faith in God’s Power and Mercy, verily as
Jesus told the blind boy – ‘Thy faith has healed thee’.

A lieutenant colonel of the Indian army on peace keeping mission in
war-torn Jaffna in Sri Lanka had a last minute ‘intuition’, a tiny
call from within to stop the bomb-raiding of a house that was
suspected to be a hideout of the Tigers. Instead, he asked his men to
cover his flanks and went alone to the house. As he kicked open the
front door, he was taken aback by the sight of a neatly framed life
size photo of Bhagawan adorning the opposite wall. Hearing some
shuffling noise coming from the adjoining room, he threw caution to
the winds and ran inside the room to find fourteen little petrified
children huddled up together. Those children were rescued and sent for
rehabilitation.

Once during my college days, I was watching in silent admiration the
students sprinting and jostling to gain a vantage place inside Trayee
Brindavan for the evening session with the Lord. The elders normally
kept a distance from the stampede lest they be knocked down by the
young enthusiasts. As the youngsters settled down within the
sacrosanct precincts, I too entered with the other lecturers and took
a rear corner place. The Lord then took His seat on the regal swing
and quite unexpectedly called out – “Where is Sikkim?” In all my
vanity, I replied – “I am here Swami”. He looked at me wistfully and
commanded – “Why are you there at the back? Come to the front.” The
sea of humanity parted and made way for my pompous self to approach
the throne. “There was no place in the front Swami”, I replied.
Bhagawan disapprovingly looked at me and pointed to one of the boys
seated near Him – “How did he find a place here then?” I said – “Swami
he ran faster than the rest to gain that place”. At this Swami rebuked
me – “Couldn’t you too have run? Did you think that you were granting
chance to the juniors since you have already been emancipated?” I was
speechless. I had already understood the purport.

The Presence…

The message in between the lines was that every sentient or insentient
being is pining to find that coveted place – proximity or merger with
the Creator. The quantum of inner yearning is proportional to one’s
effort – figuratively projected in the present context as the act of
running and hurrying to get that ‘place in the front’. The quest and
effort cannot be slowed down or stopped until the goal is reached.
Chastised and penitent I faced Swami with tears of gratitude when He
further asked me to move from His left flank where I had found some
place to stand, to His front directly facing Him and then with a
chuckle, He remarked – “Yes this is the correct position – as you look
into my eyes now, you can see your reflection in there as much as I am
reflected in your eyes. How could that happen when you move away from
My Presence?” The Lord continued – “I am the Immovable and Unchanging
Principle. You are the ones who are transient, being caught in the
vortex of Karma Bandhan. Thus it is for you to either come nearer or
draw away from My Presence. Until you give up your ego and experience
the underlying unity between Me and you, I will just be the Eternal
Witness, far and distant.”

That night I had no hunger or sleep. Till day break I kept
contemplating on this ethereal experience. Again and again, I was
fascinated with the word ‘My Presence’. I had to capture and drum in
His Presence in the very core of my being so that I would always feel
Him close by wherever I would be. It was a splendid feeling of
qualified nondualism Vishista-Advaita that the Master had made me
aware of in those few fleeting moments in His immediate presence. What
a pity it was that having spent more than a decade with Him; I was
still the most consummate ignoramus, limiting His Presence only within
the bounds of His Name and Form, forgetting His Omnipresence. To feel
such proximity with Him, the Lord has given us the immortal mantra of
CIA or Constant Integrated Awareness.

Years turned into a full decade since I left the portals of our
University in Prasanthi Nilayam. Living a value-oriented life in a
world of aggressive professionalism and corruption has been and
continues to be a challenge. Yet He gives the strength and the courage
to face challenges. There are umpteen moments when I feel a strange
void within me, a feeling of being alone and left out. I was
overwhelmed with such an experience one evening in the year 2003, as I
was engaged in my prayers. “Have you forsaken me? Am I on my own now?”
I cried out. The pages of the book Jazbaad written as a tribute to
Bhagawan by Prof. B.P.Mishra was on the harmonium in front of me. The
page open before me contained the beautiful song ‘Mere Sai Mai To
Anaath Hoon Mujhe Daas Apna Banaiye’ – My Sai I am a destitute, make
me Your Servant. In a matter of moments, a lilting tune welled up from
deep within me to fit this most exquisite lyrical tribute. In utter
ecstasy I sang the song which I realized was set in Raag Jhinjhothi.

What a way to reassure me that I would not be dumped. I could feel His
resplendent and reassuring smile, His very presence. In the past,
every time He gave me a song, I would wear out the impact of His
Presence in a trice and then feel possessive and boastful about the
composition thinking it to be mine. This time the feel was different.
The experience simply taught me that if I want to be in His Presence,
I had to dwell in His Presence – “I in You and you in Me” as He tells
us quite often.

II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

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