Radio Sai Interview - Nimish & Kamala Pandya - Part 2
(Part 3 will be uploaded next week as soon as they are available)

Tryst with Divinity - 61 - Conversation with Mr. Nimish Pandya and Mrs. Kamala 
Pandya - part 2  - NEW!

TRYST_WITH_DIVINITY_060_MR_NIMISH_PANDYA_KAMLA_PANDYA_PART_02.mp3

http://dl.radiosai.org/TRYST_WITH_DIVINITY_061_MR_NIMISH_PANDYA_KAMLA_PANDYA_PART_02.mp3
  
Ganapati Festival at Dharmakshetra!

Ganpati Bappa Morya !!! 

Ganesha the Bestower of Riddhi, Siddhi, Buddhi, the Vignaharta has almost 
arrived. Let us all Welcome Him into our Hearts at Dharmakshetra.
Attached invitation
http://www.dharmakshetra.org.in/dknews12/ganeshchaturthi_invite_Sep192012.gif

Here is the Invitation for Ganesh Chaturthi. Please do participate in the five 
days festival starting on 19th. On 19th morning there will be Ganpati sthapana 
and havan starting at 9:00 am. Evening programme details are given in the 
attached invite. 

On 19th & 22nd September, 2012 (Shri. Krishnamurthy & Smt. Managalam 
Krishnamurthy will perform on 22nd) will be hosted by Ghatkopar Samithi

sourced:
http://www.dharmakshetra.org.in/dknews12/dknews-sep12.htm


I Am The Champion Of The World
Tuesday, September 18th, 2012

Akin to Bhagawan’s saying, bend the body, mend the senses and end the mind, 
when a resolute and committed Mikko Mayeda, who was completely blind, decided 
to ‘ride on’ with an untiring pursuit for excellence, nothing stood in her way 
making her victorious, a champion of the world. An inspirational poem from 
Mikko Mayedo depicting her moment of glory of becoming ‘the champion of the 
world’. (copyright with Mikko Mayedo)
(Mikko Mayeda – “Champion Over Adversity” – even though afflicted with MS and 
blind, she won 18 first place and 6 second of 24 equestrian entries from 1983 
to 1987, and became an Olympic and International Champion.)
My wheelchair sparkled colors
In the New York sun
My horse at my side.
My hands tense,
Fingers curled nervously
Weakened eyes groping and unaware.
Glory in a moment’s breath,
Champion, or just another athlete.
Seconds to mount
I’m hoisted up to a throne of kings,
riding to a battle with no defeat.
The ring is dark to me, and foreign.
My walkie-talkie directs me smoothly.
My eyes set in blank distance.
My competitor is my own body,
the battle of illness against myself.
My back rests against the sky,
and I am free.
And when it is over,
my feet sink into my horse’s sides,
and relax with reassurance.
I’ve waited a lifetime
for this moment.
I look into a faded, blurry crowd.
They call my name.
I am champion of the world.

sourced:
http://www.theprasanthireporter.org/2012/09/i-am-the-champion-of-the-world/






Yes, You Can!!!
Monday, September 17th, 2012

The story of Mikko Mayedo of Ontario, California – Champion Over Adversity – is 
an incredible story of ‘Yes, You Can…” , story of ‘will’ that granted her the 
power to win against all oddities, finally to become a ‘champion of the world’. 
Mikko Mayedo was a world‑renowned Olympic Equestri­an Champion from the United 
States who achieved her feat despite being completely blind. As her narration 
continues, she ends up with her telling tale of finding her God within. She 
claims, Even in blindness, I know that God has come, narrating how she found 
the Avatar Of the Age ‘within!!!’ 
(Mikko Mayeda – “Champion Over Adversity” – even though afflicted with MS and 
blind, she won 18 first place and 6 second of 24 equestrian entries from 1983 
to 1987, and became an Olympic and International Champion.)

It took becoming blind for me to really see. I am twenty‑nine years old, and I 
have been seriously ill with multiple sclerosis since age fifteen. At the onset 
of my illness it was misdiagnosed as “chemically induced depression and loss of 
co‑ordination”. Neurological changes caused my healthy and extremely athletic 
body to slowly deteriorate.
Fatigue made it impossible for me to maintain over‑achiever’s straight A‑plus 
status in the gifted advanced placement classes at school. For six years my 
illness was diagnosed as a “hysterical, psychotic, depressive disorder.” My 
legs became sluggish, my grades dropped, and the fear within me grew to terror. 
The psychiat­rists methodically quizzed me on whether I felt like committing 
suicide. After six weeks of such questioning, I began des­cribing to the doctor 
how I wanted to do it. Then, at age sixteen, I was commit­ted to an adolescent 
psychiatric institute for nine months.
The psychiatrists told me there was only a God for people who were weak and 
could not believe in themselves. After they taught me all about suicide, I took 
three massive overdoses which left me breathless and comatose.
After awakening from the coma, I should have felt blessed to feel the sun­shine 
and to be alive; however, I did not. But I still had some of my sight then, and 
a constant curiosity about the world.
My curiosity has often made me wonder: What did my little brother grow up to 
look like? How old, or young, did my mom look when she died four years ago? Is 
my dad’s bald spot bigger? Do I look my age? Are my eves the same color, or are 
they glassy, lifeless, and dull?
The darkness inhibits my sense of this fast‑changing world. At times the 
frustration brings tears to eyes that don’t see but can still cry.
My condition worsened after a head-on crash on my moped, in which I impact­ed 
my head at 30 mph into a telephone pole. My jaw and the bones of my face were 
crushed. A massive reconstructive surgery was done, and the optic nerve 
deterioration was clearly seen in my eyes. The damage was severe and 
irreversible. Labour Day 1980, the day of my accident, was the last time I 
drove a motor vehicle. I was twenty years old. Again I was diagnosed, this time 
accurately, as having multiple sclerosis. M. S. meant to me, “no treatment, no 
cure.” I lost the rest of my sight. I succumbed to a wheelchair. I was forced 
to quit Cal Poly University. I became bedridden, blind, mentally and physically 
beaten. I entered a nursing home, ready to die… that was January, 1983.
How the change came
However, there was a change—I am now a world‑renowned Olympic Equestri­an 
Champion. My will gave me the power to win against all odds. No, there was 
another will within me, not Darwin’s evo­lution, but my love for my parents and 
family. The will to live came back when my mom said she loved me, so it was all 
right for me to “go”. My will was to help the mentally ill at that institution 
where I had been labelled “hysterical”, and to defend the other kids there who 
could not defend themselves. I desired to show the world a heart, a love that 
never quits striving to honor those I love, especially my little brother, who 
came in­to my ICU room when I was full of tubes to keep me alive.
I am still blind, but only through my blindness do I see. Could God have given 
it to me as a gift? I began training on horseback from a wheelchair. My trainer 
used an intricate language of verbal cues over a walkie‑talkie to guide me 
around an otherwise darkened arena.
The blind equestrian
I am the only blind rider on the U S. circuit. My glorified walkie‑talkie 
com­munication and the story of having been bedridden have filled the hearts of 
millions who have read my story in publications throughout the world. I trained 
for three years straight in exercise, visual imagery, and riding meditation.
My motto in the speeches I have made is, “A silver medalist takes the weekends 
off, I wanted to go for the gold.” I wrote my life story by dictation. I can 
write only with special writing gui­des for the blind. But is this the ego 
speaking? How do I enter an arena and flawlessly maneuver my horse around many 
obstacles, weaving around poles, through L‑shapes, and over as many as three 
jumps in a row‑almost three feet high‑without seeing them? Over the hurdles I 
have no fear, but how? I am so blessed to have had everything taken away and 
replaced with love. I see with my heart—and need not fear the threaten­ing 
wooden bar of the jump before me—­for I am blind and cannot see death. Even my 
mother’s lonely stare—as life left her body four years ago—was not painful, for 
my eyes can only remember life. My wheelchair is a friend that, intermittently, 
gives me rest. My eyes still see me runn­ing. When I could run, did I ever 
thank God for that graceful speed? No, be­cause I was sightless and crippled in 
other ways. Could I have ever imagined my miserable life to be a God‑planned 
gift?
The power of love
On the days of my gold medal victor­ies—as the press swarmed around me pushing 
their microphones close, and cameras whirred and clicked—they asked, “How do 
you win among all the sighted competitors?” My reply was, “Love and the 
memories of those who loved me when I was less than nothing.” “But how do you 
win every single time? You’ve won 18 state, national, and inter­national 
championships blind?” I re­plied, “Justice, love, and God when com­bined with 
blindness, helps one to see the light.”
With sight I saw only darkness. God guides us as a traffic sign which says, 
“wrong way.” But are we grateful that the sign is warning us of impending 
danger? No, instead we curse our lousy luck, meeting a turn we didn’t expect. 
Pain is a gift God uses to test our limits.
Visions of Baba
My mother’s death brought about a quantum leap in my spiritual growth. I began 
to see visions down a tunnel of light as answers to prayers. My mom’s spirit 
and many others appeared in coloured robes‑ with one man who was promi­nent in 
those visions. He was clothed in an orange robe and had Negroid features. Again 
and again, visions turned into future truths, and the man in the orange robe 
seemed to direct the visions. Could there be a physical spirit‑world as the 
Bible says, a kind of, “Heaven on Earth”? My heightened excitement made me want 
to run and shout! I’ve found the truth, but who are these spirits I see so 
clearly without sight?
Several family friends had returned from India after witnessing a man who 
performed great miracles before their eyes. I listened to them, but was still 
sceptical. I considered taking a trip to India to be in His presence, to 
“witness” this holy man. But I can’t witness any­thing. I will never see for 
myself if it is true that He is God. Angry, I saw an­other vision, reminding me 
in moving pic­ture form of a premonition that led to the healing of a tumour in 
my jaw. The strange man with the frizzy, black hair was directing the entire 
show. Dejected, I looked and studied Him closely. He was as clear to my 
unseeing eyes as though He was really there. He was short with an orange silk 
robe, bare feet, kind brown eyes, and dark skin.
“God has come”
Still frustrated—that I could never see the holy man in India whom my friend 
had visited—I called my friend. I thought at least she could describe the 
miracles, and if could imagine Him. She said: “He is an Avatar, an incarnation 
of God in human form. He can do anything and knows all. He can heal from 
within.” Feeling more blind than ever, I imagined a tall, turbaned figure. I 
asked, “What does He look like?” My friend said, “He is short, dark, with 
frizzy hair, Neg­roid features, loving brown eyes, wears an orange robe, and He 
goes around in His bare feet!”
Aghast and a little ashamed, I knew immediately that I never needed to go to 
India to witness this Holy Man. Nor did I need eyesight to see His miracles. 
Even in blindness, I know that God has come.
II Samasta Lokah Sukhino Bhavantu II

sourced:
http://www.theprasanthireporter.org/2012/09/yes-you-can/

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