Natanamanohara

At the age of about eight, Sathya was declared fit to proceed to the Higher Elementary School at Bukkapatnam, about two and a half miles from Puttaparthi. He had to trudge the distance in sun or rain, over stony bunds or slushy fields, or wading through neck-deep water, with the bag of books, secured on the head, as the season dictated. He had to start early after a meal of cold rice and curds or cooked ragi-rice and chutney (delicacies which He still remembers). He carried in a bag the afternoon meal; and, with his companions trekked regularly to Bukkapatnam.

"He was my student in the VIII standard," says Sri B. Subbannachar, in a book published in 1944. "As a student, he was a simple, unostentatious, honest and well-behaved boy" he continues. "Unostentatious"! With what great self-control must Baba have suppressed His manifold divine powers, in order that the world might become ready for the Announcement! Sri V. C. Kondappa, another teacher, who later revered the student as Divine Avathara, also says, in the same book, "He was very obedient and simple. He never spoke more than the minimum necessary. Coming a little early to School, he used to collect the children and install some image or picture and, with the flowers he had with him, he conducted Puja and did Arathi and distributed Prasadam. The boys gathered around him for the things he 'took' out of his empty bag. When asked about it, he said that a certain 'Grama Sakthi' obeyed his will and gave him whatever he wanted!"

One of his teachers was to experience the force of that 'Grama Sakthi' (!) in one occasion. Baba was generally listless in class, engaged as he was mostly in what he later described as composing Bhajana songs and Ashtotharasathanamavalis, and copying them out, for distribution among his classmates! One day, the teacher discovered that Sathya was not taking down the notes that he was dictating. "He is setting the whole class a bad example," thought he. So he shouted, "Stand up, all those who are not taking down notes!!" Well. Sathya was the solitary culprit. He asked him why he didn't. Sathya answered, in an innocent straightforward tone, "Sir, why should I write down? I have understood what you dictate. Ask me any question on it and I shall answer correctly." But, the teacher's pride was injured; and the boy must suffer for it, he thought. So, he ordered that Sathya should stand upon the bench and keep standing, until the last bell for the day. Sathya obeyed and the whole class hung its head in sorrow. No boy felt happy to sit on the benches that day, with their 'Guru' poised uncomfortably upon a bench in the same room. The hour-bell rang and the teacher for the next hour came in.

He was Janab Mahbub Khan, who loved and respected the little by, Sathya, beyond words. Baba even today extols this Mahbub Khan as a Pavithra Athma, a highly evolved soul! He taught English and his approach and method were so earnest and appealing that, it seems, every boy knew every lesson through and through. He was and old bachelor and he treated Sathya with a unique affection, reminiscent of the Fakir who fondled the Shirdi Sai.

He would press sweets and savouries on the boy, persuading him by means of a hundred artifices. He would say that his house was specially cleansed for the preparation of the dish, because he knew that Sathya will not eat anything having the remotest contact with non-vegetarian dishes. He would say that he himself had not taken food yet, for he wanted Sathya to partake of it first. He would sit silently for long, stroking Sathya's hair and whispering to himself, "oh, Sathya! You are a wonderful boy; You will help thousands, you are a great power," or words to that effect.

When Mahbub Khan entered the room, he was shocked to find Sathyanarayana on the bench, the teacher still sitting on the chair. He asked him why he was not vacating the chair. He whispered that when he got up, the chair too rose up along with him; in fact, it had stuck to him, he knew not how or why? The whisper was caught by the boys who laughed at the teacher's plight and said it must be due to Sathya's 'magic' spell. He too suspected so and Mahbub Khan confirmed his suspicions. The boy was asked to come down and immediately, the chair fell off and the teacher could move about unencumbered by any attached piece of furniture! Years later, while relating this story Baba said that He willed it to be so; not so much out of anger against the teacher, for He had no anger in Him, but purely to demonstrate Himself and gradually prepare men's minds for the announcement of His Mission and Identity.

The little 'Prince Charming' was even in that tender age a 'Guru' to the children of the village. True to the nickname, 'Brahmajnani,' which he had earned by his Sathwic nature, he showed by precept and example that the little joys of this limited world are quite inferior to the Supreme Bliss that prayer and concentration can offer and renunciation and contentment can give. He delighted only in stories of saints who revelled in these.

Kondama Raju's sons and one of his daughters were all living together and so, Sathya grew in the midst of about eighteen to twenty children, like Krishna in Brindavan. It was necessary to be a clean and straight child in order to win Sathya's appreciation and to get the peppermints that he 'took out' from empty bags! Sathya was the Example, himself. Kondama Raju once told the present writer how, when the tailor was called in to stitch shirts for all the children out of various types of coloured cloth that had been brought from the Bukkapatnam shandy, Sathya would say, 'Let every one be given the cloth he selects; what remains is good enough for me.'

I am now reminded of a statement He made a few years ago at the Prasanthi Nilayam. "I have no lands to call my own and to grow My Food; every bit is registered already in the name of some one else! So just as landless persons wait for the village tank to get dry so that they may scratch the bed with a plough and quickly grow something for themselves, I too grow My Food, namely, Joy, in the dried tank-beds of afflicted hearts." Kondama Raju of course did realise then the significance of Sathya's attitude of renunciation; he just felt proud!

Sathya was even as a child, against all sports and games that caused cruelty or pain. He would not allow his companions to witness the bullock-cart race on the sands of the riverbed held annually on the festival, known as the Big Ekadasi, for He objected to the twisting of tails and the flaying with sticks, for the vicarious glory of the master. Years later, I remember. One night His calling back to the Prasanthi Nilayam a party of devotees who had left in a bullock cart. They were proceeding across the river, to their cars which had been parked at Karnatanagapalli, on the other bank. Baba waved His Blessings and they got into the cart and it crept out of the main gate into the road beyond. Then, He sent someone running, to fetch the Bhaktha back to him. I heard him order the Bhaktha thus: "Listen! When you reach the sands, you must all get down and walk across; the bullocks should not be forced to drag all that weight through the sands, do you understand?" bear-baiting, cock fighting, and such other village entertainments, He condemned, as the 'Guru' of his group.

When a touring talkie pitched its tent in those days at Bukkapatnam or Kothacheruvu, it caused a stir for miles around, and village folk sacrificed their small earnings to meet the expense of seeing as many pictures as they could. Pedda Venkappa Raju tried often to take Sathya too along with the other children; but he protested and refused. He spoke of the degraded ideals of the cinemas, how they vulgarised the Gods. And made of music, a muddle. He said they only exhibited the seamy side of family life, and praised cruelty, cunning and crime. Even this day, Baba is a relentless critic of the arts, especially literature and the film, which wilfully drag ideals down into the dust, in order to accumulate money.

When he was about ten years of age, Sathya formed in the village of Puttaparthi a 'Pandhari Bhajan' group on the model of such as existed in some neighbouring villages. The group consisted of about sixteen to eighteen boys, dressed uniformly in Gerua clothes, holding each a flag in the hand and wearing jingle-bell-anklets. They all danced to the tune of picturesque folk-songs and ballads, describing the yearning of pilgrims for Panduranga's Darsan, the ordeals of the long pilgrimage, their anxiety to reach the shrine quick, their joy at the sight of the pinnacle of the temple, etc., in simple touching poetry. Sathya taught the children these and other songs. He added some Bhagavatha songs of his own in which the Gopis complain to Yasoda of the unceasing pranks of Krishna. Yasoda chides the Boy for his thievery and mischief, and Krishna pleads innocence. With Yasoda and Krishna in the centre of the circle and with the Gopis dancing on the circumference, this was a great attraction in the village. Baba himself played the role of either the mother or the child and his dance, dialogue and music added to the charm of the Bhajan.

It was also noticed that he mixed up with these traditional themes, songs on a pilgrimage to a new shrine of which no one had heard, and the majesty of a new Deity of whom they had not even the faintest idea, Shirdi and Sai!

"Sai Baba? Sai Baba of Shirdi? Who could it be? How did this little boy get inspired by that Muslim (?) Fakir?" The elders wondered, as the children danced in the streets.

The group collected a subscription of an Anna a month from each house, and spent the amount, on oil for the lamp which they carried with them when they circumambulated the village, on parched rice which they gave every one as Prasadam and on scent sticks, camphor and other sundries needed for Puja. On Festival Days or rather, nights, they collected heavier amounts, say, two Annas and proudly brought a petromax light all the way from Bukkapatnam. The children of Chinna Venkapa Raju and others provided the musical accompaniments.

Sathya was, of course, the central figure of the group, as organiser, treasurer, teacher, composer and leading singer. He did every role so wonderfully that the villagers could see before their eyes, Mathura and Brindavan reproduced, and Balagopala with His Flute enchanting the Gopis, the Cows and Calves, the trees and even the river Yamuna.

Once, while a song describing the prowess and achievements of Lord Narasimha of Kadiri, as related in the folklore of the area, was being sung, and the line, "From out the pillar of steel, the God as Lion jumped" was recited by the group of boys, Sathya suddenly leaped like the Lion-man Manifestation of the Lord, and His face was transformed into such ferocity and indignation and benediction that the entire village was frightened and, no one, not even experts in wrestling holds, could control the boy. At last, after a number of people had offered Puja and waved camphor and broken coconuts before the manifested Lord, Sathya became normal and resumed the song to Kadiri. Another intimation!

This incident spread the fame of the Pandhari Bhajan Group for when this group sings and dances it was told, God actually manifests Himself, as the villagers of Puttaparthi witnessed! Moreover, it was noticed that when an infection of cholera swept like a poisonous Simoom over the area and killed off entire families in the surrounding villages, Puttaparthi did not feel the blast of death; and wise men told one another that the Divine Atmosphere generated by the Bhajan Group was responsible. Therefore, the boys were invited to a large number of villages, in order to save them from the anger of the Gods! Very often, they sent their bullock carts to bring the group; but , sometimes, the little saviours had to walk ten or twelve miles, carrying their food with them, resting during the hottest part of the day in some tope on the way. These villages, too, heard the strange names, Shirdi and Sai, wondered what and who they were, laid the wonder aside after a few days and plunged in their tasks again.

Then, there were the dramas, the open air operas, where Puranic themes were represented by dialogue, dance and costume; where Rakshasas, Asuras and the powers of evil were defeated by Gods, Aavathars and the forces of Good. These were written, rehearsed, and produced in the household in which Sathya moved; Pedda Venkapa Raju himself had become a celebrity on the popular stage for the role of Banasura, and more, for his inimitable depiction of Yudhishtira, the Sathwic follower of Dharma and the never-wavering adherent of the Lord. A number of plays were produced at this period, in order to collect funds for Famine Relief. Banasuram, Ushaparinayam, Droupadi Manasamrakshanam and Kamsa Vadha were the plays most preferred. The eager young boy Sathya also took some roles, especially Krishna and Mohini, and the audiences applauded his acting, singing and, above all, his dance. For, there was a rhythm in his feet, a sense of time and tune, they had seldom seen; a litheness and a loveliness which made them feel, 'He never touched the earth, He belonged to some ethereal region!'

Within a matter of months, he began to take other roles too! Even after he went over to Kamalapur and Uravakonda for higher schooling, he played these roles, during the vacation, when he resided at Puttaparthi. In the popular story of Kanaka-thara, he acted the role of Thara so effectively, that one night, Easwaramma who was sitting among the audience in the Pandal, rushed upon the stage to prevent what she believed to be the 'execution' of Thara; she forgot that it was all make-believe! He took more than one role in the same play sometimes, to satisfy the audience; for example, in the drama, Krishna Leela, he was Devaki, the boy Krishna, and also the danseuse regaling King Kamsa with her dance in the Durbar Hall! He also played the role of Droupadi and he even now describes, sometimes with a great deal of merriment, how he had to wear seven long Saries one over the other, and yet appear as if he wore only one!

Before long, a professional dramatic troupe visited the area and enacted some musical plays that attracted mammoth audiences. They put up their stage at Bukkapatnam, and later moved to Puttaparthi, Kothacheruvu, Elumalapalli and other big villages and their performances became the talk of the entire district. They had a girl dancer, with the stage name of Rishyendramani, who combined, in a series of dance items, both gymnastics and music. Her piece de resistance was a dance, in which, keeping track of the timing and the tune she danced with a bottle balanced on her head, bent low, sat, and laid herself on the floor, with her back up, bit with her teeth a kerchief placed on a matchbox on the floor, and with the kerchief between her teeth sat back again rose, and stood, with the bottle still balanced on the head! A pretty difficult assignment indeed! By long practice, she had trained herself for this tortuous feat. No wonder, she won the applause of the people wherever she did it.

Sathyanarayana went with others to witness the plays of these professionals and, he too saw this item. Later, after he came home, he tried to do it himself and , to the surprise of all, he could do it without much ado! When the elders asked to be shown this new item in Sathya's repertory, he withdrew within himself and hesitated. But, the news got abroad and some enterprising young men persuaded him to agree to dance the famous feat, at Kothacheravu, during the Rathotsavam and Cattle Fair. They had the temerity to announce that the famous Rishyendramani herself will appear in the play, for they felt so confident that Sathya will not disappoint them or the audience. The sisters dressed the brother as girl, completed the hairdo and personal decoration and took him to Kothacheruvu. Pedda Venkapa Raju who heard about the audacity became suddenly afraid to the consequences of the foolhardy adventure into which Sathya was inveigled. The curtain rose; Rishyendramani tripped her way into the Durbar Hall of Kamsa; the audience was too wild with excitement to note any difference; the famous dance piece began; Sathya had improved upon it and substituted a needle, in place of the kerchief; it was lifted by the eyelids! Yes; the 'Rishyendramani' of that day, did it!!

But, not without dire consequences! The president insisted on pinning a Medal on the dancer's person! The mother and others, who exulted over the encomia that were showered on Sathya, the invitations he received to repeat the feat at other places and the silver cups and gold medals that were pressed into his hands became afraid of the 'evil eye' which the boy provoked. And, the fears proved true. His eyes had some mysteriously dreadful affliction. They swelled, became red, and exuded tears profusely. His temperature also rose. One night, the mother heard a heavy footstep 'wearing wooden sandals', she says, entering the house and proceeding straight to the place where Sathya was. She felt it all mystery; so, she got up and went near the boy and placed her hand on his brow to find out the temperature; she found the fever gone! And the eyes? She brought a light and, lo, they too had improved beyond all expectations. Sathya was quite well the next day!