Dansk  

Once I was travelling back to Denmark from Puttaparthi. I had to find a way to get to Bombay where my flight to London/Copenhagen was departing the next day.

The easiest way to reach Bombay, is to go to the nearest town, called Dharmawaaraam, and from there go by railway to Bombay.To reach Dharmawaaraam, one has to take a ,or a bus from Puttaparthi Bus Station. The departure time is decided with concideration on the time of day; if one is a single woman, and has to travel by night, it is safer to go by bus.

On one such occation, I had to be in Dharmawaaraam around midnight where the train would take me to Bombay. The Ashram closes its gates around nine PM, so I was leaving around that time. 

To say goodbye to Baba is always hard, and as a "Westener", who knows when one is coming back again to get Darshan?

It was such a sad moment, the rain was falling, and it was dark.

Even at night, though, the air is still warm, and scent of incense fills the air.

The bus station was filled with people. I reached the station with my luggage, with the kind help of a rick-shaw-walla, and I sat down on the floor in frtont of the closed down ticket booth.I had to wait there for about an hour before the bus rolled up and allowed our small group to ascend.

I have to tell, that busses in India- even "De Luxe" busses- have these special hard plastic seats, where you just can't keep in one place, but with every little turn or bump you are thrown around and many times you almost fall off and have to stand up and hold on to whatever possible, to stay on your seat.

The driver entered our bus, and started collecting fare and handing out changes. He looked somewhat irritated, or as if he was in a bad mood.

Well, finally the bus started, the engines roared, and we reared out of the isle and began the forty mile journey to Dharmawaaraam.

Beside me was two young students from one of the Sai Schools; They were about 20 years of age, maybe a little younger. You know, they look so tender and fresh even when they are in their twenties, these Indian guys.They were probably brothers, going home to their parents for the weekend. They were speaking with soft and quiet voices, and only with each other. Speaking of Baba I think. On the bus beside myself, was a couple of old single women, and a handfull of middle ages single males. The road was wet and the wind was rough with rain, and the road there is completely without any sort of light, so all we could see, is that which the lights of the bus, lit up. Whenever our bus met another vehicle on the road, both vehicles had to slow down, pull out to the side of the road and pass eachother like this. But I think that these drivers have a psycological war going on, to see who has the more right to be on the road, because it seems like they don't pull out to the side untill the very last second, and in this way some busses and lorries end up on the fields with the tires in the air! I have one strategy in these cases, whether I am passenger in a bus or a cab, in a crowded city: I don't look! I either close my eyes, or look to the sides. If I didn't, I would have a nerveus breakdown.

On this trip I was definately not looking out ahead! Instead, I looked at the two pretty boys. I could see that everytime we had a lorrie or bus coming against our bus, they were talking and actually they grabbed eachothers hands! It was very spooky, and the driver, in his angry mood, took many chances. The road had many holes too, and I used all my strength to sit tight. I glanced ahead one time and saw four small lights on a vehicle coming against us. It was rather big! The driver didn't slow down. Had he not seen the large truck coming right against us in a collision course? I turned my head to the side and said a little prayer. The two lads held each others hands tight while starring out ahead! Then before we passed this huge truck, they both as in one movement, yelled: "Aaaah!" and threw them selves head first, Still holding hands, onto the floor of the bus in front of their seats!

It was such a costly sight!

I started laughing, as we had passed, with a fraction of an inch, from crashing with the other vehicle. As I started laughing, the two boys came up again, and relieved to be still alive, they too started smiling, then the driver smiled in the rear view mirror, and finally all the members of the travelling party, laughed or smiled, and we all looked at each other.

The driver's bad mood was gone, and he drove more carefully.

I was right about the two boys. They descented the bus just before Dharmawaaraam. Their uncle came to meet them. They never lookjed back. Their journey was over for today. Family was waiting for their beatiful boys. My forty hour journey had only just begun.

As you may be aware by now, I am the sort of Devotee who is often sitting in one of the back rows at Darshan time. So it was one day in Brindavan too. At the time around 10 years ago, I still had very big knowlegde of the unseen, and before going to India I drew a big gate-like thing in my diart. I thought that I was going to Prashanthi as "usual" but when I came to Andrah, Swami was in Brindavan. That was where I saw my drawing in real life. It was the huge gate at the intrance; it was blue, like my drawing, and air-filled like a great balloon! It was for a special occasion, the inauguration of a building inside the Ashram.That year was filled with such incidents.

But I wanted to tell you about something that happened one day during my stay in Brindavan near Bangalore.

Darshan line. As usual I was in the last row, to be allowed into the temple. But the crowds were so huge, that after an hour or so of waiting, it turned out that we could not get any seat inside, but had to stay outside. (Maybe you don't know that the temple in Brindavan is merely a roof, held up by many steel pillars, but there are no walls; so "outside"  means: away from under the roof. Furthermore the floor of the Temple is elevated so when sitting down outside it means that one are unable to look into the Temple)

There we were. Outside as usual. Looking at the back of the crowd inside the Temple. 300 women with heavy hearts and tears in our eyes. About 250 yards was the distance to Babas chair, where He used to sit and enjoy the half hour bajan singing, and where we would all enjoy the Darshan of Him!

We were very quiet sitting on the ground outside the temple, guessing on what was going on inside, one or two of us carefully rising to our knees streching our necks to catch a glimps of our beloved Lord, only to be told to: Please sit down, Maam! by the Sai Angles , or the Seva Dals.

Finally Swami came; but instead of going to His chair, He began walking down the rows of men on one side and women on the other. We stopped crying inside in hopes that He would come to the far side of the temple close to where we sat on the concrete. He walked so slowly and He granted Vibuthi and took letters from Devotees, as usual. He came closer and closer. He walked outside on the steps just in front of us. I was 5 yards away from Him! I had never been so close to His body! Then, and only then, He lifted both hands and blessed us with so much love and smile! I could hear it physically, but there was no sound; the unison soundless AAUUMMM! in myself and each and every person sitting there, as a compulsive unison responce to Swami. I can't explain the feeling of total fulfillment; I had the experience on UNITY with all. We were One! In that moment I felt Unity not only with the Cause, Swami, but at the same time, I felt One with all the Devotees around me in the spiritual-sound: Aum. Baba looked out at us all, for a second or two; then He turned around and went back inside.

I think that I can speak on behalf of each and every Devotee, sitting outside the Temple that day, when saying that we all felt so loved and reasured of Baba's loving care for even week and meek Devotees. Omniscient Baba knows all!

We may think that He is like a friend, a father , a brother or a Mother; I tell you, He is much more than we can comprehend. He gives all.  We only (be)hold what we can grasp!

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