Though there is a multitude of Hindu gods, most Indians, and certainly the educated ones, understand that each god is really only a limited expression of the One Inexpressible Supreme Brahman. "God has a thousand heads and there should be no quarrel about the thousand heads," they say, and there should be no quarrel about the many different forms used to represent different aspects of that highest divinity which is ultimately formless. In fact in the Hindu puja rooms, those sanctuaries set aside in homes for worship and prayers, you will mostly find statues and pictures of many divine beings, often including Jesus of Nazareth.

Yet each family usually has one special household deity who holds the place of highest honour. In the family of Mr. K. R. K. Bhat the traditional household god was Lord Subramaniam. But Mr. Bhat himself inclined more to the worship of Lord Krishna. Perhaps for this reason, or perhaps because he was very busy as a top executive in the world of insurance, it was his young wife who carried out the daily ceremonial worship of Lord Subramaniam.

In 1943 Mrs. Bhat develop cancer of the uterus. Medical men advised an operation though there was no certainty that this would be successful. Mr. Bhat's widowed mother was staying with the young couple at the time, and she said to her son, "Lord Subramaniam cured your father of cancer without any operation; in the same way he will cure your wife."

The old lady's faith was so tremendously strong that the young couple agreed to forgo surgery and place themselves entirely in the hands of the household god. Pujas to Lord Subramaniam were intensified, the religious practices became even more strict and devout than before, the prayers more fervent and prolonged. Pujas were now carried mainly by Mr. Bhat's mother, while the young wife remained in bed growing gradually thinner and weaker. This went on for about six months.

Then one night, while in a state of semi-sleep, the patient saw in the dim light from the moon a large cobra circling her bed. Alarmed, she switched on her bedside lamp and woke her mother-in-law who was sleeping in the same room, her husband being absent on a business trip.

No snake was found in the room. Yet as soon as Mrs. Bhat switched off the light, she saw the cobra again, going around the bed. Almost immediately the snake took the form of Subramaniam, as she knew him by the portrait hanging in the puja room. He seemed to be floating above her. Then piercing her bosom with his velayudhan (a kind of spear Subramaniam carries), he seemed to draw her away with him.

Soon she found herself standing before him on the peak of a high rocky hill. She knelt and touched his feet with her hands and forehead, and he began to talk to her. He asked her if she wanted to stay with him or go back to the world. She understood this to mean a choice between life and death. Thinking of her husband and young children and their need of her, she told Subramaniam that she wished to go back.

There was further conversation, and finally Subramaniam said: "You are cured of your illness, and will soon grow strong. Throughout your life I will protect you; whenever you think of me, I'll be there. Now go back."

"How?" she asked.

He pointed to a long winding, narrow staircase that had opened near their feet, and led downward. She began to descend - then there seemed to be a break in her consciousness and she found herself back in bed in her own room, awake. Immediately she woke her mother-in-law and told her about the vision. When her husband returned home she told him as well. But she regarded the experience as sacred, and did not make it known beyond the closest members of her family.

From that night onward she gained rapidly in strength and there were no more signs of the cancer. Soon she was up and carrying on her normal life. Only there was a difference. Now in addition to her household duties and religious observances, she devoted herself to social welfare work among the poor and needy. God had given her back her life, and she was determined to use it fully in his service as best she knew how.

It was twenty years later that Mr. and Mrs. Bhat first heard of Satya Sai Baba and went to Prasanti Nilayam. To Mrs. Bhat he said, "I spoke to you long ago - twenty years ago."

Greatly puzzled, she replied: "No, Swami, this is my first visit."

"Yes, yes, but I came to you when you were living in Mysore." And he mentioned the name of the street and the city where she was living at the time of her cancer illness, when she had the vision of Subramaniam.

Then he took her a little way up the narrow winding stairs which lead to his quarters above and told her to look down. Immediately she was reminded of the staircase leading down from the heights on which she had been with Subramaniam: in fact the two stairways seemed identical. She was more bewildered than ever.

To help her understanding, Swami now waved his hand and from the air produced a photograph of himself in the somasutra (chariot) of Subramaniam with a cobra circling around him. Now a light began to dawn on her. God can take any form, she thought. He had come to her twenty years before in the form she worshipped, Subramaniam. Now he was here before her in the form of Satya Sai Baba. She fell at his feet, weeping tears of joy.



Mr. C. Ramachandran of Kirkee, Poona, when I first met him at Prasanti Nilayam in 1967, was Deputy Chief Inspector of Military Explosives in the Ministry of Defence.

Some years earlier, he told me, he had had a lot of family worries, and as a result had taken to visiting the Sai Baba shrine at Shirdi, about a hundred and twenty miles from his home. This had brought him great peace of mind, and he had gradually become a devotee of Shirdi Baba.

Eventually he heard that this great saint had reincarnated at Puttaparti and was known as Satya Sai Baba. Well, he thought, probably just another impostor, one of the many who have tried to make money by masquerading as the grand old Sai Baba reborn. A little later, however, he read in the newspapers an account of how Satya Sai Baba had relieved one of his followers of a bad stroke by taking it on himself, and then cured his own paralysis before a large crowd on a Gurupoornima day. This gave him the feeling that Puttaparti Baba must at least be a genuine holy man - perhaps a real Mahatma.

When one of his family members brought a small photo of Satya Sai Baba and put it in the puja room in his house, Ramachandran let it be. Two or three days later he noticed that some ash had formed on the photo. He wiped it clean. But then once during the puja ceremony he saw the ash actually forming on the photo. It appeared first like steam and turned into drops of milky liquid which ran down the glass and dried into grey ash.

Perhaps, he thought, this might be due to something peculiar in the glass, or in the cardboard backing, or the frame. As a chemist he tested these, but they were quite normal; however, he decided to change them all. Nevertheless the ash continued to make its inexplicable appearance on the new glass and frame.

One day a young friend brought another photo of Satya Sai. This was stuck onto cardboard without any glass front. With Ramachandran's permission he put it among the other pictures in the puja room, and went off. But before he had reached the front gate, Ramachandran called him back. The young man's eyes widened as he saw the ash forming on the photo he had just brought.

"I did not really trust your story before," he confessed, "but now I see it's true."

These events made Mr. Ramachandran decide to go to Prasanti Nilayam and see Satya Sai Baba. Some time after making this decision, he suddenly felt himself disgusted with the habit of cigarette smoking. One day, throwing away a cigarette, he vowed to himself that he would not smoke again until after he had had an interview with Sai Baba.

His holidays fell due about six weeks later, in June 1964, and he used the opportunity to make his first trip to the ashram. The discomforts and lack of facilities there upset him initially but he stayed on, and after some days found himself in an interview room, along with a few other people, waiting for the great man.

Presently Baba came in and, with his creative hand-wave, produced vibhuti. He gave some of this to all present, except C. Ramachandran, The latter was very disappointed at being overlooked, and asked for some. Baba looked at him and said: "I gave you some not long ago."



Ramachandran was puzzled, and then he understood that Baba referred to the ash which had appeared on the photos. Swami smiled gently and went on:

"Don't worry. I will be giving you a great deal, a very great deal. But don't go back to that bad old habit."

Ramachandran knew that he referred to the smoking habit. A thrill went through his nerves as he realised how much this great man seemed to know about his life and thoughts.

After that he made several visits to the ashram, and then towards the end of April 1965 he received at his home in Poona a telegram which read: "Satya Sai Baba arriving at your residence, May 5th, to perform Upanayanam and give Brahmopadesam.

Ramachandran was very startled. This referred to the thread-ceremony for his two sons, which was long overdue as his eldest son Raja was already seventeen and a half. Well, was Baba really coming? Such a thing had never been mooted, and Ramachandran felt he was not worthy of the great honour. Certainly he had no idea whatever about the correct way to receive such a great and holy saint. First however he must check to see if the message was really a genuine one.

With the help of some of his office staff, he traced the telegram back to its origin. He found that it had been lodged at the main Poona post office and delivered to him from the suburban post-office of Kirkee. The receiving clerk at the Poona office had reason to remember the sender of this telegram. He was, he said, a man with a small beard. He had driven up in a taxi, which he kept waiting while he wrote the telegram. When the clerk asked for his address, the bearded man replied that he was in transit and had no address in Poona. The clerk said that he must therefore write his permanent address on the form. After some hesitation the man wrote: "All India Sai Samaj, Madras." Then he drove off.

This Sai Samaj was founded some years ago by Swami Narasimha, who wrote the life of Sai Baba of Shirdi. The Centre is dedicated primarily to the dissemination of the teachings of the old Shirdi Saint. On investigation it was found that the bearded traveller was unknown to any one at this place. So there Ramachandran's detective work reached a dead end.

He had been told that Swami was at Brindavanam and took the precaution of sending a telegram there asking for confirmation of the date of the intended visit. He repeated the same request in a further telegram to Mr. Kasturi at Prasanti Nilayam. No reply came from either of them.

Later he learned that Kasturi had never received the telegram. Ramachandran did not ask Baba about the one to him, judging by what had happened in the meantime that any answer Baba might give, if he gave any, would be quite inscrutable.

"So I did not know what to expect on May 5th," 'Ramachandran told me, "but 1 thought it best to prepare everything for the ceremony, and say nothing to any one about the possibility of Baba coming."

One problem, he said, was that he did not have enough ready cash for the function. But going to his bank to see what could be done, he found to his surprise that a sum of 468 rupees had mysteriously appeared to the credit of his account. He was not able to trace the origin of this and in fact never succeeded in doing so; but it certainly was a great help to him. He decided to ask only his relatives and very close friends to come to the ceremony, which would mean providing lunch for about fifty people.

Some days before the function was due friends, and even strangers, started asking him if it was true that Sai Baba was coming to his house. "All I could do," he told me, "was to give some non-committal answer and try to put them off."

Nevertheless, on the morning of May 5th people began arriving at an early hour to take up a position in Ramachandran's large garden. As the hot morning wore on, the crowd grew larger until there must have been about a thousand people sitting in neat rows awaiting the arrival of Sai Baba. All seemed quite certain that he was coming; the only point in doubt being how he would come, and from what direction. There was much discussion on these points.

Inside the house Ramachandran and his wife were working hard, and praying hard that everything would be in order when and if Swami arrived. There were flowers and decorations and all the necessary accoutrements for the ceremony. On a dais they placed their best armchair, covered it with a satin cloth and placed flowers on each arm. This was the seat of honour for Swami. The clock hands moved on, shadows in the garden shortened, but there were no signs of the guru's arrival. At about eleven in the morning Ramachandran entered his puja room, made a special prayer for guidance, and then conducted the thread-ceremony himself. Immediately afterwards he saw a little boy of about eight years - a complete stranger - among the people inside the house. The boy seemed to know the hostess, Mrs. Ramachandran, for he went to her and, saying that he was an orphan, asked for food. She gave him some but was surprised to see him eat only a few mouthfuls and walk away.

When she looked again for him he was gone. None saw him go but he could not be found. It was as if he had melted into the air. And who was he, anyway? He did not belong to the neighbourhood, and none of their friends had ever seen him before.

Soon after this it was observed that there was an imprint on the satin cover of Baba's chair as if someone had just been sitting there. Also the flowers on one arm were crushed as if a hand had rested on them. Yet no one could have sat on that chair in its prominent position on the dais without being seen. Besides, no one there in the house would have presumed to sit on the chair placed there, as all knew for the great Saint. The Indian - followers of Sai Baba, with their strong feelings of veneration and bhakti, would never dream of doing such a thing, even if it could have been done unobserved.

Anyway the conviction grew that Sai Baba had himself been present in the astral, or subtle, body and had purposely left these marks to let them know of his visit. This conviction was strengthened in Ramachandran's mind when his eldest son, Raja, confided something to him.

As part of the thread-ceremony a boy receives a mantra from the one performing the ritual, while both kneel with a cloth covering their heads. In this case, of course, it was the father, Ramachandran, who gave the mantra, but Raja said that he had seen, while under the cloth, not his father's face but that of Sai Baba, which he knew well from photographs. Certainly something had impressed Raja greatly for after that day, his father said, the boy's character changed completely. He no longer wasted his time on frivolous pursuits, such as loitering in the bazaars, but concentrated fully on his studies.

After the ceremony came the lunch. But the wrong impression seemed to have got around that everyone present was to be fed. They began coming in from the garden in batches, filing past the chair to see the miraculous impressions on the satin and flowers, and then taking their places on the floor in the dining room.

Mr. and Mrs. Ramachandran had some extra supplies of food in case of emergency. Though they had planned for fifty they "probably had enough for about a hundred", he told me. So they decided to just go on feeding the crowd until supplies ran out. But, incredibly, supplies did not run out - not until after everyone had eaten his fill.

"We did not feed ten thousand, like Christ," said Mr. Ramachandran, "but there must have been at least one thousand; so the food was multiplied ten times. Without question it was one of Sai Baba's miracles.

Even after the lunch was over, there was no rest for the Ramachandran household. Those who went away talked to friends about the impressions on the chair, so others came to see and bow before the signs of the invisible presence. They continued coming throughout the whole afternoon and night until about three the next morning.

Many of Baba's more devoted followers have experienced signs of his subtle presence, footprints in ash spread on the floor, a passing vision of his form and other such manifestations. I myself saw, one evening during a puja at Mr. Bhat's house in Bangalore, two indentations like foot marks appear in a cushion placed on the floor in front of an empty chair which is always left standing there as a symbol of Baba's presence.

But also many devotees tell of incidents where Baba came to them in a physical form other than his own, perhaps as a beggar, a sadhu, a workman, or even an animal. Frequently those who see him have no idea that it is Baba until they get a sign later - or Baba may on their next meeting mention the incident particularly if they have not treated the person or the animal well. Mr. Ramachandran is inclined to think that the orphan boy, who appeared, asked for food, ate a few mouthfuls and disappeared, was one of those "other-form" manifestations which Sai Baba makes, although the latter has said nothing about this.

The above and other inscrutable events have brought Mr. Ramachandran close to Sai Baba, and he has received a great deal, just as Swami promised him at the first visit. For one thing a stomach ulcer which had been resisting medical treatment completely vanished soon after that earliest interview. At a later meeting Baba materialised a jappamala for him, "clutching it out of the air above his shoulder height", as Ramachandran described it - the same manner in which I have seen Baba take several large items out of, perhaps, the fourth dimension. At the time Ramachandran told me his story at Prasanti Nilayam he was extremely happy because Swami was giving him personal instructions in the use of the jappamala, and guiding him in his spiritual exercises. In fact Sai Baba has brought a complete change into the tenor, outlook and meaning of this man's life, as he has done to so many others.

The Ramachandran story is not unique. Other devotees have had similar strange experiences. Many have at times of importance or crisis felt Baba's presence, caught glimpses of him, or been left with signs of an unseen visit. I have told Ramachandran's particular narrative here (actually only a part of his rich Sai Baba experiences) because the fact of his being a practical scientist with a responsible official position in the world may add some weight to his evidence for the sceptical mind.



Miss Leela Mudalia, is a lecturer in Botany at Queen Mary College, Madras University, but in her off-duty hours she acts as priestess in a small temple in Guindy, where she lives, on the outskirts of Madras. Back in 1943, when Leela was fourteen years old, that little temple did not exist and the events which led to its construction, and to this young scientist's dedicated service there, are about as inexplicable as one could imagine.

The first strange event was a prophecy some forty years earlier that the temple would be built where it now stands. In 1904 a wandering, siddhipurusha (holy man with some miraculous powers) asked permission of Leela's grandfather to build a tomb for himself on a piece of land owned by the grandfather at Guindy. The latter gave permission and the holy man prophesied that to the right of his tomb there would be a temple to a great saint, and to the left an industrial estate.

The holy man was reputed to be a hundred and twenty-five years of age at the time he entered the tomb, went into mahasamadhi (permanently left the body) and was buried. His earlier prophecy had been written on palm leaf, and seen by many people, including Leela's father, Mr. M. J. Logananda Mudalia. At this period, in the first years of this century, the land on which the tomb stood was surrounded by open country. Today the little temple stands close by on the tomb's right, and to its left, an industrial estate - just as the prophet foretold half a century earlier.

But before the prophecy was fulfilled, some dark events were to take place on this piece of land. In the early 1940s a Gujarat swami put up a grass hut and settled down near the tomb of the holy man. But this swami was of the left-hand path. He soon became known in the district as a black magician who had broken up families and ruined several people's lives through his powers of sorcery (unclean siddhis).

Logananda Mudalia, who was then owner of the land, ordered the Gujarat black magician to leave but he flatly refused to do so. Several times this happened, and finally in 1943 Mudalia took a bailiff and went to his Guindy land. The sorcerer was not at home and so in his absence they proceeded to demolish his grass hut. Then just as the demolition was about completed, the magician returned.

His rage was enormous. He fumed and shouted. Finally he put a curse of madness on Logananda Mudalia. Looking at him with burning eyes, he said: "By tomorrow you will be a raging lunatic."

Logananda Mudalia was not troubled he thought himself immune from such black powers. He did not even bother to mention the incident to his wife or daughter Leela. But the very next day the madness came upon him.

"He was utterly insane and violent," Leela said. "The Superintendent of the Mental Hospital in Madras was called, and said that my father must be taken to the hospital."

But evidently Logananda's wife was against this move; she decided to keep him at home for another day, hoping and praying that he might improve, even though she had great difficulty in holding him down during his fits of violence.

The madness had attacked him on a Friday; he was violently insane for two days, and then during Saturday night or early Sunday morning, he had a dream or vision. In this a young Swami came to him and gave him a vessel containing water and tulsi leaves, telling him to drink and he would be cured. This Logananda Mudalia did, and the young Swami disappeared.

When Logananda awoke next morning the madness had gone. He told his wife and daughter about the vision, describing the Swami as "a young man dressed in a red robe, with thick hair that stood out from his head in a mop like a woman's hair."

At the time of this event Satya Sai Baba, then a young man, was staying at the house of a devotee in Madras. Before lunch on the Sunday following Logananda Mudalia's dream, Baba was being driven by car to another devotee's house. On the way he directed the car so that it passed near the Mudalia home. When they arrived at the house, he asked his devotees to wait in the car as he had someone to see inside. Logananda was still resting in his room after his stormy mental sickness, and the young red-robed visitor was taken in to him by Leela and her mother.

As soon as the young man entered, Logananda recognised him as the healer of his dream. Sai Baba confirmed this in his opening words: "Last night I came to you and gave you tulsi water. I will now make sure that you have no more madness."

With a wave of his hand he produced a protective talisman for Logananda to hang around his neck. The latter tried to prostrate himself before the astounding young Swami, but found that his knee had gone out of joint. Baba, practical as well as miraculous, gave Logananda's foot a sharp tug and the knee-joint came right again.

"You are God!" Mudalia declared, going down on his knees. He held Baba by the ankles and tried to lift him off the floor. Baba laughed and made him desist, patting him affectionately on the back.

Later, taking the wife aside, Baba told her to go to their plot of land at Guindy and look for some broken pieces of pottery on the surface. She must dig beneath these, and would find there the bodies of a goat and a hen. These carcases must be removed as they were connected with the sorcery rites that had brought about the madness. Next Baba phenomenally produced a lime and told her to put it under her husband's pillow, without his knowledge. Finally, with another hand-wave, the young visitor produced vibhuti and gave some to each of the family. As he was leaving, he told Logananda Mudalia that he must come to Puttaparti as soon as possible.

That day Leela and her mother went to the Guindy land, where they found and removed the dead animals as instructed. The next day Logananda left for Puttaparti. Many strange and wonderful things happened to him there, and he came back more than ever convinced that Sai Baba was an incarnation of divinity.

He decided to build a house for Baba on his Guindy land. But before he could make much progress the form of Shirdi Baba appeared to him in a dream and ordered him to erect, instead of the house, a temple to Sai Baba and to install therein a statue of the Shirdi Sai body. On the day following the dream a letter arrived from Satya Sai with exactly the same instructions as given in the dream.

So the temple was built, Logananda selling three houses to raise the money. Meanwhile a sculptor in Madras began having recurrent lucid dreams in which he was told that there was work for him to do at Guindy; that he must go to Guindy railway station. The dreams so impressed the sculptor that finally he took the train and alighted on the platform at Guindy. There he was accosted by a man who knew his name and said: "Please come with me."

Puzzled, the sculptor followed. The stranger led him to the site where the temple was under construction, and introduced him to Logananda Mudalia as the artist who had come to do the statue of Shirdi Baba. Then the stranger departed, and neither the sculptor nor Mudalia ever saw him again.

The outcome of the incident was that the sculptor agreed to do the statue. He had never seen the old saint in his life, and had only a picture to guide him in the work. But, strangely enough, there was no difficulty; some subtle, intelligent force seemed to direct his brain and hand.

The figure, in black granite, shows Shirdi Baba sitting in characteristic posture, right leg resting horizontally across the left knee. Like Michael Angelo's marble Moses in a little church in Rome, it gave me, personally, the immediate impression that it was alive.

On the day when Satya Sai installed it in the temple with due rites and ceremonies, the several hundred people present thought that the figure had really come to life. It levitated, they say, about three feet above its pedestal, stayed suspended in air for a few seconds, and then dropped into position again.

When the building was completed in 1947, Logananda left his home and took up residence in the temple to look after it and carry out the pujas there. After he died, Leela took his place, living in her brother's house nearby, but sleeping and spending most of her time in the temple itself.

One Sunday morning my wife and I cycled over from the Theosophical Society estate at Adyar to visit Leela at Guindy, about two miles distant. First she showed us over the grounds. We saw the tomb of the prophet, and those of Leela's father and mother. Then we went into the little temple itself. Here I felt a powerful atmosphere, a "being upward" feeling, such as I have experienced at certain other spots on the earth - at Lourdes, in the cathedral of Chartres, and at Fatima in Portugal, for example. There is a strong impression of being brushed by the gentle, beneficent pinions of invisible worlds. And here there was an incident that served to confirm this impression.

Two flowers were before Shirdi Baba's statue when Leela led us to it, accompanied by another visitor, an old friend of ours from Puttaparti, named Balbir Kaur, the Kanwarani of Ladhran in the Punjab. Leela presented a flower from the vase to each of the two ladies as, a token of blessings from Sai Baba.

Soon after that we went to the far end of the temple. The ladies sat on a grass mat on the floor to talk. Leela had kindly provided me with a chair, but it was too far away for me to join in the conversation. So I drew it across the tiled floor to within a few feet of the grass mat. After about ten minutes of talk Balbir pointed to my feet and, in a surprised, mystified tone, said: "Look! See what's come!"

My feet were a few inches apart and midway between them on the polished tiles lay a lovely little orange-coloured flower. I knew for certain that this flower had not been there when I sat down for I had noted specially the simple, plain tiles as I placed my chair in position. The floor had been completely bare. Furthermore, the flower could not have been dropped by any other visitor after I sat down, for no one had come near our group.

"Such flowers are not found anywhere in this district," commented Leela, the botanist, after examining it.

A young man, who also helped in the temple, drawn by our animated discussion, came across to our corner. When he was told what had taken place, he said to Leela: "Yes I saw you give a flower to each of the ladies and not to the gentleman. Now one has come to him through the power of Sai Baba. What a gesture of grace!"

Leela, who has seen many miracles at the temple, agreed without surprise. We three visitors were filled with a strange joy, as if we had just seen Baba himself. The powers of other worlds seemed to find easy entrance to this sweet little sanctuary, with its rare purity and freedom from any taint of commercialisation or exploitation by priestcraft.

Who can possibly know the number of miracle-cures brought about by Sai Baba? There are no official bodies set up to investigate and compile statistics as there are, for instance, in connection with the miracles of Lourdes. But one is constantly hearing of the Sai cures wherever one moves among the devotees. They have been going on for years and are still going on. The means and methods Baba uses are many and varied, from sacred ash to surgical instruments which he materialises on the spot. But whatever his method, the marvellous medically inexplicable element is ever there.

In most of the following cases I have interviewed the ex-patients themselves, and people close around them. The other cases were investigated by medical men and various responsible witnesses, and reported to me or to the monthly magazine issued at Prasanti Nilayam.



Mr. T.N. Natarajan lives at Ernakulum, Kerala, and is very active in the Sai Baba movement in that area. His business is that of taxi-owner, but anyone looking less like the typical taxi-man would be hard to find. Like so many of the Sai devotees, he is gentle and aglow with brotherly love. I have had long talks with him at Prasanti Nilayam about many things, including his miracle cure from Baba.

He told me that in 1957 he lost the sight of his left eye. First he went to his family doctor who sent him to an eye specialist in Bangalore. In that city he actually consulted two specialists (whose names he gave me) but both told him there was no hope of restoring the sight of the blind eye. Not only that, but probably the other eye would be affected in time, and he would lose the power of sight altogether. This was a grim, depressing verdict.

But on the same day came hope. Mr. Natarajan visited a cousin, saw a photo of a man in a red robe with a black mop of hair and asked who it was. The cousin was a Sai Baba devotee, and the upshot was that Mr. Natarajan arrived in Madras to see Baba who was staying there at the home of Mr. Hanumantha Rao.

At the first interview, Mr. Natarajan proffered the letter brought from his devotee cousin, but Baba refused to take it, saying: "Don't worry, I know all about your case. I will cure you. But you must come to Puttaparti for fifteen days."

So he returned to Ernakulum, made all the necessary arrangements, and went straight to Puttaparti. There he was told to come to Baba each morning bringing a short string of jasmine flowers. Baba blessed this on each occasion and then tied it firmly on the patient's eyes. There it would stay for the day and the night. The next morning Baba would throw it away and put on the new jasmine flowers. This went on for about ten days.

Then one evening after bhajan Baba called Mr. Natarajan into a room, waved his hand and materialised a small bottle. From this he poured a few drops of liquid into the bad eye. The liquid stung and irritated the eye, but Baba soothed him by saying: "Never mind, you'll soon be cured." On the following day Baba again sent for him, and this time materialised what the Hindus call a rudraksha, a kind of talisman made from the berries of a tree growing in the Himalayas, used for bringing protection and other benefits. Baba handed this to him with instructions about how to employ it.

A few days later Mr. Natarajan returned to Ernakulum. The sight of his bad eye was very much better and it continued to improve. Within three months it was quite normal, and he has had no trouble in the ten years since then.



Here are two other cures which Baba performed:

An example of his power to exorcise evil spirits and cure madness was given me by Lilli Krishnan. She said that some years ago there came to the ashram a woman possessed of an evil spirit or demon. The woman had a wild look, used to scream, tear her hair, behave in a violent manner and eat all kinds of rubbish and dirt. Baba, by some means known only to himself, drove the demon out of her. "After his treatment there were no more signs of wildness or violence," Lilli said, "the woman became gentle, mild and sweet."

Dr. D.S. Chander, a dental surgeon of Bangalore who has been a devotee for twenty years, told me that in 1958 he was suffering some terrible pain caused by a stone in the gall bladder. His medical adviser said that a surgical operation was essential. Dr. Chander went to Baba who made the jocular remark: "You surgeons can only think of knives and forks." Then he took some vibhuti from the air and gave it to the dentist, telling him to take a little, dissolved in water, daily. In a short time the pain vanished, and no operation was necessary. In the ten years since then there has been no recurrence of the gall bladder trouble.

Despite Baba's joke about surgeons and their love of knives he has, on a number of occasions when he decided that tonsils or a tumour or something else must be removed, himself performed surgical operations. For this purpose he always materialises whatever surgical instruments he happens to require with a wave of the hand. Afterwards he makes them vanish. Many solid citizens of India have witnessed such events.

Yet notwithstanding the occasional surgery and phenomenal production of various types of medicines, Baba's most universal instrument of healing is his limitless supply of sacred ash. Through this wonderful medium, the divine power flows to cure many kinds of complaints, and also to act as an incredible first-aid treatment for accidents.



A remarkable case[6] involved the use of vibhuti at a distance concerns a fourteen year old boy named Siva Kumar who suffered from heart trouble. In November 1964, when Siva Kumar was staying with his uncle Dr. M. D. V. Raman in Bombay, he developed cerebro-spinal meningitis, with partial paralysis of the left side, and loss of both sight and speech. On November 30th he became unconscious, and at 11.45 that morning cyanosis intervened and the boy turned blue. The doctors gave him only a few hours to live.

But at noon he seemed to be making signs as if he wanted something. The people present interpreted his signs to mean that he would like a bath and some of the vibhuti which had been brought by a friend from Puttaparti that morning. They did as he requested, bathing him and applying the consecrated ash. Next he made signs that he wanted a photograph of Sai Baba. This was brought, and set in front of him. Then Siva rubbed his paralysed left leg and arm with his good right hand. Suddenly he got off the bed and walked, albeit falteringly and with assistance into the family puja room. There he sat near the altar and seemed to go into a state of meditation. This went on for about two hours, then Siva walked from the puja room, this time unaided, looked about, went over to a chair and sat in it.

Evidently his eyesight had returned; and then he spoke. He told those present that Sai Baba had appeared to him in a vision, saying that his life would be saved. Siva had begged to have his sight and speech back too, and Baba had granted the prayer, telling him just what to do.

Soon afterwards Siva was able to return to school and the studies he loved. When these facts were reported, over a year after the miracle cure took place, Siva was still in the best of health.



At Prasanti Nilayam in 1967 I met Mr. Russi C. Patel, a Parsi of Bombay, and his wife. From them I learned the story of their little daughter, Ketu.

At the age of 2 years Ketu could not speak, walk or even stand. She had been given various kinds of medical treatment, including modern drugs and physiotherapy. But nothing seemed to have any effect. The source of the trouble was a mystery. Some thought it was a matter of mental retardation, others said that it was some unknown deep-seated nerve trouble.

This was the state of affairs in February 1965 when Mr. Patel decided to go to Puttaparti and see Sai Baba. His wife, who was a very orthodox Parsi, was not in favour of the idea, thinking it a waste of time and money.

Sivaratri festival was on when Mr. Patel arrived at the ashram and huge crowds were there. Although people urged him to seek an interview, he was diffident about doing so - especially as he felt that Baba knew all about his trouble and why he had come, without being told.

Several times he wrote a note, intending to hand it to Baba as the latter passed through the crowd near him, but each time, when he saw the little figure with the luminous face, full of the light of understanding, he decided that it was not necessary and tore the letter up. "When Baba wants me, he will call me," Patel said to his friends.

But the days passed and he was not called. Streams of people were going in to see the great saint, but not Patel. Then one morning, some days after the production of the lingam, it was announced that there would be no more personal interviews. However, Baba came onto the balcony and gave his blessings to all visiting devotees assembled there before they went home. Mr. Patel felt the great compassion pour onto the crowd and into his own heart.

Yet in the train on the homeward journey his faith and spirits sank to a low level. He thought of the days he had spent there and the chances of speaking to Baba he had missed. He thought of his poor little daughter still unable to stand or utter a word. He imagined his wife's reproaches about the time and money he had wasted. He arrived at the door of his home very depressed indeed.

When he opened the door, the first sight that met his gaze was little Ketu, who could not even stand when he left, walking down the hallway to meet him, calling out "Daddy, Daddy!" he picked her up and embraced her; then he embraced his wife, while both of them wept with joy over the miracle that had somehow taken place.

On checking the facts with his wife Mr. Patel found that Ketu had first begun to walk and speak on the day before he arrived home - just after Sai Baba had given his blessings from the balcony to the assembled devotees. Some time afterwards Mr. Patel took his wife and daughter to see Baba when the latter was on a visit to Bombay. In the midst of many thousands that crowd around him in that metropolis, Sai Baba saw them, and in the words of Mr. Patel, "greeted the little girl as if she was an old friend returned after a long absence". He took her on his knee, materialised -some vibhuti, and put it in her mouth. After that, her speech improved greatly and she began using longer words.



The next story concerns the friend who shared our experience in the Guindy temple - Balbir Kaur, the Kanwarani of Ladhran and granddaughter of Raja Gurdit Singh, Retgariha of Patiala. This dark-eyed, soft-spoken Sikh woman looked about forty when I first met her in 1967 as a member of Baba's party at Horsley Hills. It was there that she told my wife and me the moving story of the "impossible" cure that had brought her to the feet of Satya Sai Baba. The case was confirmed by her daughter the Maharani of Jind.

In April 1966, Balbir Kaur underwent an operation for an internal growth, and a test showed that it was malignant cancer. She was not told this, but the report was given to her daughter who took it to a specialist in Bombay. In July Balbir had a bad haemorrhage and was taken from her home in the Punjab to Bombay and admitted to the Tata Memorial Hospital. The haemorrhage had been brought on by the growth of a cancer which, the Maharani of Jind said, "had come up as large as a horrible rose, the mother cancer having worked fast once released by the first operation".

The Maharani continued: "The doctors refused to touch her again, saying her case was hopeless and there was no chance of her coming through an operation. Sarcoma is the hardest and fastest growing cancer; the operation for it the most aggressive and painful. However, with much begging and many tears on my part, the doctors at last agreed to operate."

So on August 2nd Balbir Kaur had her second major operation within a period of just over three months. She was on the table for more than four hours. Yet despite the fears of the doctors she still survived, coming back to dim consciousness to find six drainage tubes in her body. Attached to the tubes were electric suction machines drawing away the unwanted fluids. "With their horrible constant ticking", as her daughter described it, "they seemed to be also drawing the last of the life from mother's frail body."

Twenty-one days after the operation the drainage tubes were still in place. "The fast growing cancer and the rot in the healing process, plus some faults in surgery, apparently caused the many leaks in the body. If one leak healed another place would open up," the Maharani told me. Balbir became so feeble that she seemed to be on the very edge of death. She was given glucose solution and a blood transfusion. But then there was a new leak of blood from one of the tubes. X-ray photography, to find the cause of this, revealed a hole in the ureter. The medical men decided that a third operation was essential in order to either repair the hole in the ureter or stop the left kidney functioning.

But Balbir felt that she just could not endure any more major surgery. Her strength was at low ebb; she had a bad cough and her mouth was so swollen as a reaction to antibiotics that she had to be fed through a nasal tube. To go through another operation before regaining some vitality would be her end, she knew.

By some fortunate stroke of destiny, just before coming to Bombay for the cancer surgery she had been given by one of her relatives a photograph of Satya Sai Baba and the book on his life written by N. Kasturi. The portrait had somehow touched her deeply, and as she read the book her faith in Sai Baba grew in strength.

In the Bombay hospital she had come to a fork in the road where both ways appeared quite hopeless. She could not continue to live with her system in its present hopeless condition, and yet on the other hand her chances of surviving the necessary surgery to put it right seemed very slim indeed. Her life, she felt, hung on a thin thread. Only a miracle could save her. She had begun earlier to pray to the new divine man of power whom she had found, Sai Baba. Now her prayers became more fervent and continued without ceasing while she was on the table being examined and X-rayed in preparation for the third operation, which was scheduled for the next day. Just before she came off the X-ray table at about 4 p.m., the leak from the ureter seemed to stop. But this was thought to be only temporary and plans for the operation were not changed.

That night she prayed with all her soul to Baba, asking him to heal her and spare her from the operation which she felt she could not survive. The leak continued to hold off through the night. Next day there was, still no leaking and the doctors decided that the hole in the ureter must, by some mysterious means, have healed itself.

"They knew that I had been praying to Sai Baba," she told me, "and they were forced to agree that a miracle had happened. Instead of having the operation that day, I had the drainage tubes taken out and was on the road to recovery, thanks to Baba."

So the cancer had been cleared away, the rents and faults and leaks in her interior had healed up, and Balbir Kaur very soon regained sufficient strength to leave the hospital and go home. Then her one desire was to go to Puttaparti and see in the flesh the great saint who had saved her life. But people around her tried to persuade her not to go, saying that life at the ashram would be too uncomfortable for her.

Again she approached Sai Baba through prayer. "Tell me what to do," she prayed. In a dream she saw him standing on the balcony at Prasanti Nilayam, where she had never been in her life. His words to her were distinct and clear: "Come to Puttaparti."

When she arrived there she saw the building and balcony of her dream. Baba saw her and called her into a room alone. She had not given her name to anyone at the ashram. Yet he knew her immediately and told her all about the operations, about her nearness to death, and her cure.

She has now taken up her permanent abode at Prasanti Nilayam where Sai Baba, in his inimitable way, is teaching her the spiritual lessons she must learn in order to direct her life - the life she has through his grace - towards the right ends. The miracle of Balbir Kaur has been the means of revealing Sai Baba to many people, including her daughter the Maharani of Jind who has become an ardent Sai devotee.



In a back number of the ashram magazine I read a series of letters from H.N. Banerji who was at the time Professor of Physiology in the Medical College at Gwalior in North India. The letters were written to Y.V. Narayanayya, a scientist living at Prasanti Nilayam. The letters concerned Professor Banerji's niece Mrs. Chatterji, a 38-year-old mother of seven children. The professor states that early in 1965 the doctors suspected cancer in Mrs. Chatterji's left breast. As soon as he came to know of this, he had her thoroughly examined at Gwalior and then at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, Delhi. These examinations confirmed the original diagnosis of cancer.

At the All India Institute an eminent surgeon, Professor B.N. Rao F.R.C.S. (London) operated on Mrs. Chatterji. Then in Professor Banerji's first letter to Mr. Narayanayya, dated February 6th, 1965, from Gwalior, he wrote:

"The pathological report of the removed tissue shows a most virulent type of cancer-aplastic carcinoma. Dr. Ramalingaswami, the renowned pathologist of the Institute has himself examined the tissue. This type of carcinoma is most fatal; she has now hardly eight months or so of life." The letter concludes with a fervent request for the intercession and help of Satya Sai Baba.

The appeal for help reached Baba's ears. He "produced" vibhuti and gave instructions for it to be sent to Professor Banerji.

The second letter from the professor was written on the 20th of February. He had, he said, received the packets of vibhuti and hurried to his niece's ward with them. The vibhuti was used as directed, and, "by the grace of his Holiness, the temperature which was tormenting her for the last ten days, rising with severe rigour up to 106 or 107 degrees, with unbearable burning sensation and a severe sinking feeling has disappeared today, and none of the painful symptoms has returned. What a miracle this alone is "

Eighteen days later, on March 10th, he wrote in the third letter: "My niece is now much better. She has got over the anaemia, moves about, and is taking a practically normal diet. Further, the Cobalt 60 that caused so much setback is now being taken very satisfactorily. Cancer is most unpredictable, according to medical science, but I am sure she will have a most flourishing life with the blessings of Bhagavan Sri Satya Sai Baba."

The professor's final letter to his friend, as published in the ashram magazine, was dated April 23rd. In this he says: "My niece is, by the grace of Sai Baba, doing well. She was to undergo an operation, ovariotomy, as a precautionary measure. But the doctors have dropped the idea, as the same is not warranted. I am very sure in my mind that my niece has been saved by the grace of Bhagavan Sai Baba. She was discharged a month ago, and left for Calcutta the same day with her husband. I offer my heart-felt thanks, etc. "

A number of leading medical men and scientists were concerned in this case, including Mrs. Chatterji's own brother, a district medical officer, and her husband who is an electrical engineer. So the cure took place among a group of practical people who could not be called unreliable visionaries.

I noted, however, that Professor Banerji had written in February 1965 that medical opinion gave his niece "hardly eight months or so of life". At the time of his final letter, about two and a half months later, she was "doing well". But what happened after that? It was possible that the recovery was only temporary, and that the cancer had recurred, because, as the professor said, it is a most unpredictable disease.

I decided to enquire, and wrote to Mr. Narayanayya at Prasanti Nilayam, whom I know personally. When my letter arrived, Professor H.N. Banerji was himself at the ashram on a visit. Soon afterwards, in February, 1968, I received a letter from the professor in which he confirmed the medical details of the case as published in the magazine, stating: "On a very crucial day I got an envelope from my friend [Mr. Narayanayya] which contained the vibhuti given personally by Baba to my friend . . . Magic happened. Patient got round. She is doing well. She is being checked up by a specialist almost every month. Three years have rolled by, and by the grace of Bhagavan, she is doing fine. Medically, death sentence was pronounced, and very meagre hopes were given out. Miracles do happen, whether you call them so, or say it is nothing but Baba's grace and mercy."

The letter came from Patna, for just after the miraculous recovery of his niece he retired from the professorship at Gwalior Medical College and took up an appointment as Head of the Biochemistry Division at Rajendra Memorial Research Institute for Medical Sciences at Patna. He can, I can, 1 consider, be judged a first-class witness to the miraculous Sai power being conveyed across India by a few packets of vibhuti.



Mr P. S. Dikshit of Bombay is a producer of documentary films for the Maharashtra Government and a well-known singer of bhajan songs. I first heard of the remarkable healing in which he was concerned from the Maharani of Kutch and other Baba devotees; then later Mr. Dikshit gave me the facts himself.

His sister was suffering from trouble in the left breast, where there was a suspicious lump. Clinical tests at the Tata Memorial Hospital, Bombay, confirmed the presence of malignant cancer, and the doctors recommended that the breast be removed forthwith. The chief surgeon concerned agreed to operate a few days later, on the following Tuesday. Then his assistants, remembering that the Tuesday was a holiday, set the operation for the Wednesday. With only a few days to spare, Mr. Dikshit tried to locate the whereabouts of Sai Baba in order to get, his permission and protection. Finding on enquiry that Baba was on a visit to Anantapur in Andhra Pradesh, he and his sister took a train to that city.

Baba was staying at a house on the outskirts of Anantapur and, as it happened, I was there with his party on that occasion. Mr. Dikshit and his sister reached the house early one morning and waited on the glassed-in verandah for Baba to finish his bath. Although no one had informed him of their coming or the reason for their visit, when Baba came out he said to Dikshit: "I know - it's cancer in your sister's left breast. The operation was to be next Tuesday, before being changed to Wednesday. Actually, it will take place on Thursday. I shall be there and everything will be all right. Don't worry."

Then Swami produced some vibhuti in his usual miraculous way, gave some to the patient to eat, and rubbed the rest on Mr. Dikshit's left breast, massaging it well into the skin under the shirt. Finally he gave his breast a pat and said, "Now go!" They went.

They arrived back in Bombay on the Tuesday morning, and Mr. Dikshit took his sister for admission to the hospital on the Wednesday. The operation was scheduled, as Baba had predicted, for the next day, Thursday.

On Wednesday evening, while Mr. Dikshit was sitting on the edge of his bed just before retiring, a water-coloured liquid began to pour copiously from his left nostril. There was no pain, just the streaming fluid. Within two minutes it had wet his pyjamas so thoroughly that he had to change them. Both Dikshit and his wife were puzzled about this flow of liquid which started suddenly and stopped suddenly. He had no cold in the head, and anyway, why the flow from only one nostril and in such a quantity? However, they soon forgot the episode for their thoughts were on the next day's cancer operation.

At 9 a.m. next morning Dikshit's sister was taken in to the operating theatre. After about half an hour one of the doctors, a pathologist, came out and said to Dikshit: "We can't find the lump that was clearly shown in the X-ray. There is only watery liquid there. No signs of the cancer. We have drained off the liquid, and are freezing it for 24 hours to do a biopsy, just to make sure that all is clear."

On Friday morning Mr. Dikshit returned to the hospital for the results of the biopsy. The same pathologist came to him and reported: "All clear; no trace whatever of any cancer. Somehow it vanished!"

The doctors concerned were very puzzled at this inexplicable disappearance of a malignant cancer that had shown its undoubted presence in all the scientific tests. But Mr. Dikshit was not puzzled; his heart was full of deep gratitude to the great doctor of doctors.

Meanwhile his sister's husband had arrived from Delhi in time for the scheduled operation. After what happened he made straight for Prasanti Nilayam, to which place Baba had returned, and waited before the Prayer Hall to express his heart-felt thanks. After a while Baba appeared on the balcony just above him and immediately called down with a smile, "Nothing there, eh! Only water! Well, you can be happy that your wife is quite all right again."

A strange method indeed, and a very rare one, to cure one person through another. But, as modern parapsychology is discovering, at deeper levels of mind and emotion individuals are closely interconnected. And at the deepest level, spiritual philosophy teaches, there is no real division between us; we are all one. Even so, it may be asked, why did Baba adopt this unusual procedure? As many well-seasoned devotees often remark, "Who can solve Baba's mysteries? We, can only accept the benefits, and be grateful."

But less rare than the curing of one devotee through another is a great Sadguru's, practice of curing devotees through his own body.



I had read of great yogis sometimes taking on themselves the karmic complaints and accidents due to strike one of their followers. There are some examples of this in the Autobiography of a Yogi by Swami Yogananda, Life of Sai Baba by Narasimha Swami, and other accounts of the miracle-working saints of India.

Satya Sai Baba has likewise drawn to himself and suffered physical pains on behalf of his devotees. N. Kasturi says in his book on Baba's life that once, a doctor from near Madura wrote to him saying that he had been suffering pain and bleeding in an ear, but that the trouble had vanished suddenly in a miraculous manner. Kasturi said that the letter from the doctor reached him "just when Baba himself was 'free', from a slightly bleeding ear and some earache, which he had announced as having been 'taken over' from a devotee who was suffering the agony". Kasturi further states that "Satya Sai Baba has taken upon himself and suffered mumps, typhoid fever, delivery pains and the scalding burns of his devotees". A striking example of this type of compassionate phenomenon was described to me by a number of witnesses who were present in the ashram at the time of the happening. On the evening of June 28th 1963, Baba asked Mr. Kasturi to announce at the ashram that no more interviews would be granted for the week. Neither Kasturi nor anyone else understood or could guess the reason for this. But they soon found out. On Saturday, 29th of July at 6.30 a.m. Baba suddenly fell unconscious. Initially the devotees close around him thought that he had gone into a trance, as he had often done in the past when travelling in his subtle body to bring badly needed aid to some devotee somewhere. These trances had been known to last a few hours, but this time Swami remained unconscious for much longer.

His devotees became apprehensive and began to arrange for medical aid. In addition to a doctor at the ashram hospital Dr. Prasannasimba Rao, Assistant Director of Medical Services of Mysore State, was called from Bangalore. He writes, after describing the symptoms fully, "The differential diagnosis of such conditions ... pinned me down to that of tuberculous meningitis, with perhaps a tuberculoma, silent for a long time. " When the doctor tried to give the treatment that seemed indicated, Baba regained some awareness, it seemed, and refused the injections and other medical assistance. He stated later that the trouble would pass in five days' time.

During those five days he had four severe heart attacks, his left side was paralysed - stiff, useless, insensitive; the sight of his left eye and his speech were also badly affected.

On Thursday, July 4th, five days after the attack started, Swami became sufficiently clear and strong to announce that the clot in his brain had been dissolved, and there would be no more heart attacks. However the left side of his body was still paralysed and his speech was thick and feeble. His followers believed that it would take several months for him to recoup his good health.

During the period of his suffering Baba had indicated to those attending him that one devotee at a distance was about to be affected by a stroke and heart attacks so severe that they would have killed him. So Baba had taken on the illness with all its symptoms of paralysis, heart seizures, high temperature, partial loss of eyesight, severe physical pains, and so on. His disciples understood and accepted this explanation.

But Guru Poornima, a religious festival day, was approaching, and many visitors were congregating in the ashram. The visitors were very upset and dejected at stories they were hearing of Baba's condition. Not knowing the cause - or not believing it - they began to doubt "if Baba is God in human form," they said to one another, "why is he also afflicted with physical ailments? Why does he not cure himself?"

On the evening of Guru Poornima Day, July 6th, came the final scene. Practically carried by several disciples, Baba came down the circular stairs from his bedroom to the crowded prayer hall below. The whole left side of his body was still paralysed and his speech was a feeble, scarcely intelligible mumble.

A doctor present describes the scene thus: "His gait was the characteristic hemiplegic one, the paralytic left leg being dragged in a semicircle, the toes scraping the floor. Seeing Baba in that condition, even the bravest wept aloud."

For a few minutes Swami sat in his chair on the dais before the assembled people, some five thousand inside and outside the hall. Silent, sorrowful, deeply moved they all were. Then Baba gestured for water. Some was brought in a tumbler, and Raja Reddy held it up to the twisted lips. Baba drank a few drops; then dipping his right fingertips into the water, he sprinkled a few drops onto his paralysed left hand and leg. Next he stroked his left hand with the right, and followed this by stroking his stiff left leg with both hands. The hearts of the watchers leapt at the sight, with dawning hope.

Mr. T.A. Ramanatha Reddy, the government engineer whom I knew at Horsley Hills, was in one of the front rows and very close to Baba. He said, "In a second Swami's leg, eye, and all his left side became normal. It was a sight for the gods to see his sudden recovery, and the devotees present witnessed the greatness of his divine power . . . "

Mr. N. Kasturi describes it in this way, "He rose and we could hear his divine voice calling us, as was ever his wont . . . He had begun his Guru Poornima discourse! People did not believe their eyes and ears. But when they realised that Baba was standing before them, speaking, they jumped about in joy, they danced, they shouted, they wept; some were so overcome with ecstatic gratitude that they laughed hysterically and ran wild among the crowd rushing in."

Baba was on his feet speaking for over an hour. Then he sang a number of bhajan songs, and finally climbed the stairs unaided. That night he ate his normal meal, and the following days saw him back in his usual vigorous, hearty health, carrying on a full programme of activities. The deadly stroke which had come at his bidding departed within the period he foretold, and left no tell-tale signs behind.

It is on record that during his former life at Shirdi, Baba took to himself, on behalf of close devotees, many diseases and accidents - as when he thrust his arm into the fire at the Shirdi mosque where he lived just at the moment when a child of a devotee fell into a blacksmith's fire elsewhere. Baba bore the burns and scars on his arm for a time but he stated that he had thereby saved the life of the child.

In the Gospel of Sai Baba, also called Baba's Charters and Sayings, he is quoted as stating that he would give up his very life if necessary to save a devotee who was completely surrendered to him. Many believe that that is how he died in 1918.