The chief guest of that evening's programme was Mr. Valluri Parthasarathi, who said, “I have not come to this programme in the position of Chief Justice of the High Court. In fact, the day when I was appointed as the President of the Sri Sathya Sai Organisation of Andhra Pradesh is more memorable than the day I was sworn in as the Chief Justice of Andhra Pradesh High Court.”

At the same meeting, yesteryear's eminent scientist and great speaker, Sri Suri Bhagawantham was also present.  He said, "You have introduced me as the Vice Chancellor of so many universities that I work for; you have introduced me as a great scientist and as the secretary of Home Affairs. All these positions might be true on a worldly level, but I have come to this meeting as a Sai Devotee. All those worldly positions don’t matter to me as they are momentary.”

My father, Sri Kamaraju Bapayya, who retired as Joint Director from the Education Department, was a student of Sri Suri Bhagawantham. My father attended this meeting just out of respect for his teacher. In those days, my father had neutral views on Swami. In fact, no one in my family had any views on Baba. I just accompanied my father to the meeting.

Sri Suri Bhagawantham’s talk on that day was very unique. He was sharing the beautiful experiences he had with Swami. After every narration, he would ask, “What would you do if you were in my position? If you were a scientist like me, how would you look at such a phenomenal happening?" He was trying to say that no matter whom you are in your professional life, be it a learned scholar or a scientist, at the end of the day you are nothing without Swami.

One day, Sri Bhagawantham and Swami were walking on the bank of a river. Suddenly, Swami stopped and asked, “Bhagawantham, can we sit here?” He thought, "Baba is capable of doing so many miracles. Let me test Him now." He replied to Swami saying, “Swami, let's walk a little bit further." After walking a bit, he said to Swami, "Let's sit here." After a short informal talk, Swami removed some sand from the river bank and took out a mini Bhagavad Gita and gifted it to Sri Bhagawantham, to which he was completely taken aback. When he asked where this mini book was printed, the reply came," In the SAI PRESS."

 On another occasion, walking along the seashore, Swami asked, "What is the other name for sea?" Bhagawantham replied, "Ratnakar." Swami then said, "In that case it (the sea) should be full of GEMS." (‘Ratna’ also means ‘gems’.) Just as Swami said these words, a huge wave came from which a garland with precious gems adorned Swami's Lotus Feet. 

On that day, Sri Bhagawantham also explained a strange leela that happened years ago when Swami visited a Shirdi temple where He materialised a diamond and stuck it on the marble statue so easily, as if the statue was made of very soft material. When he saw this rare leela, he was surprised to see how Swami could fix the diamond so easily on a marble statue. Reading his doubtful mind, Swami said, "Can't the Creator glue on the diamond?"

After that evening’s meeting, my father met his teacher Sri Bhagawantham. That was the first time that we saw Swami's photo placed on the dais. Probably it was a TEST DOSE sample prescribed by Baba for us. After about two years, our BOND with our beloved Swami started to grow.

Our family was staunch followers of Brahma Samaj. Both my paternal grandfather, Sri Kamaraju Hanumantha Rao, and my maternal grandfather Sri Palaparthi Narasimham, were very well-known activists of Brahma Samaj. Both of them were multi-lingual, having a very good command over English, Telugu and Bengali. They were also close associates of Sri Kandukuri Veeresa Lingam Panthulu, the man who first brought about a renaissance in Telugu people and Telugu literature. Both my grandfathers published two magazines, Dharmasarathi and Dharmajyothi respectively, for fifty long years.

Being followers of Brahma Samaj, they were completely against idol worship, rituals and other such deistic spiritual activities. We believed in the formless Brahman. My forefathers also tried their best to abolish the caste system by educating and letting people know its ill effects on the society. Neither did we have any photos of gods or goddesses at home nor did we pray to any gods.  But we did have a collective family prayer everyday at 7 pm, and we attended the local Brahma Samaj temple every Sunday evening.

Meanwhile, in the back drop, the DIVINE PLAN was slowly making its impact. Swami had all His strings tightened to pull us towards Him by bringing this one ‘excuse’ into the picture. This ‘excuse’ was my wife's ill-health. My wife had a cyst in the uterus and the doctors suggested removing it, as it could lead to cancer. My native place of Guntur is well-known for its world class hospitals and schools. With no other option left, a famous doctor of those days, Dr. Y. V. Subba Rao, an ardent devotee of Hanuman, operated on her. The operation went on very well, but Baba put a small twist here. She started experiencing excruciating pain. Every doctor we went to used to do the tests and say that everything looked good and there was nothing wrong. From outside, everything looked good so many doctors were looking at us strangely when she complained of unbearable pain, even though the reports said everything was perfect.

Then one thought came to me. I told my wife, "You come from a ritualistic family who believes in visiting temples and undertaking rituals. Why don't you start doing your routine from now on? Let's go to one temple every day. You may meditate or circumambulate around the temple, which is up to you. Just please don't ask me to come inside the temple. I belong to Brahma Samaj and it is against my upbringing.”

In those days, it cost one and a half rupees to hire a rickshaw for two hours. We started spending our evenings in different temples. To maintain my ‘discipline’, I never stepped into any temple. I used to stay outside the temple playing with my kids. Meanwhile she was becoming more cheerful, even though the pain still existed. This came as a big relief to me to see her more in her normal self.

One day, as we were passing by Rama Vysya Dharma Satram near Guntur Railway station in a rickshaw, we heard a group of people singing bhajans. Suddenly, my wife said, "Let’s attend the bhajan today." As I went into the hall and saw Swami's photo on the dais, I was completely taken aback. Immediately my thoughts went back to that day, which happened in my college, when I sent a girl out of the classroom for wearing a Sai Baba ring. Another girl was sent out of the classroom by me for wearing a Sai Baba locket. On another occasion, when a student asked me to give the important questions that would be asked during the final exams, I said, "I am not Sai Baba to guess the important questions which would probably appear in the final exams." After the arathi we went home. My wife who looked content and much relaxed said, "I am very peaceful and happy."

From that day onwards, we started attending bhajans at various homes. Our children started to join us as they liked the prasadam served at each venue. Being a joint family, our absence was not noticed at home. Just as Kaika of Ramayana asked Rama to fulfill her only wish, my wife asked me to fulfill her only wish . . . and that was to take her to Puttaparthi!

I felt as if a thunderbolt had hit my head. Being a 100% follower of Brahma Samaj—moreover, being one of their key preachers—I asked myself why I was allowing myself to go through all these trials and tribulations. In fact, when I am actively spreading the message of Brahma Samaj in the society, will the heads of my family allow us to visit Puttaparthi? With great difficulty we convinced my maternal grandmother. Afterwards she was able to tactfully convince my grandfather. It felt as if we had accomplished a huge mission.

I started for Puttaparthi on three conditions with my wife. The first condition: being a member of faculty in the Christian college in Guntur, I could not stay there (in Puttaparthi) for months together. “I cannot be in Puttaparthi for more than four days." The second condition: “You should not pressurise me to do namaskar to Swami." The third condition: "You should not ask me to come inside the darshan hall." After getting reassurances to all my three conditions, we left for Puttaparthi, accompanied by my children and mother-in-law. Just to play it safe, we packed mango and tamarind pickles in different containers.

In those days, we had to take the Amaravathi Express train, alight at a place called Guntakal (about 8 hours from Puttaparthi), take another train to reach Dharmavaram railway station, take a horse cart (locally called as jataka) to Dharmavaram bus station and then take a bus to Puttaparthi. Somehow, we reached Puttaparthi safely.

Being a newcomer, we had to rent a room outside. This room was a bit weird. All the doors and windows would come off into your hands! You could easily carry them in your hands and put them back into their positions. They used to charge half rupee for a bucket of hot water.

In those days, the ashram cleaning used to start exactly at 3.30 am. By 4 am, one would see the devotees lined up for nagarsankeertan amidst the chirping of birds, sweet fragrance of the flowers, and not to forget the sound from the brooms sweeping the ashram premises, which also made a sweet melody.

The atmosphere was very pleasant. In those days, the discipline in the ashram reminded one of military discipline. They used to send you out even if you coughed. In those days, there used to be one elderly man, Sri Narayanayya, completely bent over with a big torchlight in his hand. If anyone whispered or murmured or jumped the lines, he would immediately catch them and send them out!

One fine morning, I met a person from my hometown, and unable to control my happiness, I loudly said, "Oh friend, how are you?" My friend immediately said," You are not supposed to talk loudly." In the ashram, silence is important. That was my first lesson in the ashram.

On another morning when I was in the ashram, my children asked for drinking water. In those days, people lived in small sheds right next to the Mandir. Sri Kasturi's house was the first one. When he was about to leave his home for darshan, I went to him and asked, "Sir, my children are thirsty. Could you please give some water?" He immediately gave us water and quenched our thirst. I politely said, "I apologise if you were made late for darshan."  Kasturi replied, "To me, giving you water is more important than darshan." For the first time, I learnt what real seva means.

According to the prior agreement, I stayed with the children outside the darshan hall, playing with them. Unhappy with me, my wife used to ask, "What will you lose if you come and sit inside the darshan hall for bhajans?" But I stuck to my promise and stayed outside the darshan hall.

Meanwhile, our departure date was getting closer. Not sure why, but somewhere in my heart I felt, even if it were from a distance, it would be nice to see Baba once. That evening, I was standing by the Gopuram with my children. The Poornachandra auditorium was still under construction. Swami seated far away on the throne was hardly visible. The bhajans were on and suddenly Swami rose from His throne and started walking towards where I was standing. My heart started beating faster. As He came closer and closer, my heartbeat became so loud that it was clearly audible to me. Baba came directly to me and stood in front of me. My legs started shivering. My mind was full of negative thoughts. I thought He would ask about all the negative articles that I read in Blitz magazine.

‘If He does ask, what should be my reply?’ I felt like running away from there. Baba, who was standing right there before me, stood still and started gazing at me from top to bottom. Every cell in my body started to fear and, not knowing what to do, I stood in front of Swami.

Slowly Swami moved towards the Poornachandra auditorium to oversee the construction work. What a great surprise!!  While I was curiously watching Him, suddenly a plate appeared in Swami's hands. The plate was full of laddus. He started distributing one laddu each to the workers there. I thought we also would get one laddu if there were any left over. When there was one laddu left on the plate, Swami gave it to the last workman.

In no time, right in front of my eyes, the plate disappeared. I was disappointed not having gotten the laddu, but meanwhile I was wondering where the plate and laddus came from, and where the plate had vanished to! I didn't get any answers to my questions. This was the first miracle I witnessed by Swami.