Eashwaramma Nandan,
Sai Mukundan,
Parthipuri Bhagawan,
Janam janam sey pujaa tujhko,
Ashk sey pujaa Charan Kamal ko,
Parthipuri Bhagawan,
Hrudayaniwasi Sai Ram…
To be His Mother, She was chosen by God,
Upon Mother Earth,
As a supreme benediction,
She brought forth the Lord,
Forever to be revered, cherished and worshipped too,
As do Kaushalya, Devaki and Yashoda,
Eashawaramma too receives her rightful due…
Her name was changed from Namagiriamma,
To Eashwaramma,
Which meant literally ‘the Mother of God’,
For Kondama Raju, the ‘grandfather’ had got the nod,
About this forthcoming divine accord,
Prayers, pleas, penance and pining,
As Mother Earth, sages and those oppressed did prod,
They were to be answered by way of a supreme reward,
Resulting in the advent of the Lord…
And so even as the stage was set,
When all cosmic conditions had been met,
According to the prophetic dream vision,
That the pious ‘grandmother’ knew,
Eashwaramma became enceinte,
Through a luminescent ball of blue,
The Lord entered the womb divine,
A phenomenon beyond space and time,
No, not a conception,
But an ‘entry’,
Certainly through divine design…
He grew up in Her arms to many a lullabye,
Blessed was ‘Grihamammayi,
To be the Mother of ‘Mother Sai’,
Always concerned about the welfare of Her ‘little one’,
Slowly coming to terms about the divinity of her ‘Son’…
She began to address Him as Swami,
For events revealed the Supreme Personality,
Was none other than He,
Yet She tried to take care of Him personally,
Watching and fretting over Him, as a Mother is wont to be,
As Her little Sathya manifested into Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai gradually,
She grappled and then acquiesced to His innate divinity…
Her charming Sathya with His cherubic smile,
Endeared Himself to all, all the while,
But He was different from children of His age,
Even then His behavior none could gauge,
In the worldly ways no one could make Him engage,
Indifferent to material things, to Her it did appear strange…
Speaking little, eating little, being vegetarian completely,
Birds and animals received little Sathya’s compassion, love and sympathy
Soon She heard the village elders referring to Him as ‘Brahmajnani’,
She realized presently,
That this was an acknowledgment and not a mockery…
At the age of twelve He asked Subbamma,
To stitch Him a gown,
In an orange hue,
Upon sighting this Eashwaramma,
Wept,
Her anxiety grew,
But Her wise Little One asked her not to grieve,
He was setting an example for the world to see,
Donning of ochre robes, removes desires, sets one free…
He grew in name, stature and fame,
But for Grihamammayi, He remained the same,
For the world He was Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai,
‘My Beloved Son’, was the breath of the Mother’s sigh,
Always concerned about His food intake was She,
Knew how sparingly He ate, did He,
Whenever He looked the other way,
She would place food,
On His plate hurriedly,
Upon noticing it,
He would smile at Her mischievously…
Soft and gentle were the ways of Grihamammayi,
Full of compassion too, was She,
Saying and doing all things right,
Keeping His mission within sight,
She did put forth to Him softly and gently,
One by one She put up Her plea,
He wanted it that way, didn’t He?
He had chosen His Mother, hadn’t He?
Accepting Her wishes,
He fulfilled His legacy,
Schools, colleges, a University,
Hospitals at close range,
Treating many a malady,
Turning dry ground wet,
With water to the thirsty,
Narayana Seva and food a plenty,
Never should anyone be hungry,
Nor bear any of the above burden or agony,
He had come for this very purpose, hadn’t He?
He is always there, isn’t He...?
Her ‘Son’ had become God,
And She would shed for Him many a tear,
His life was for all,
This much was clear,
The Mother in Her always,
For His well being nursed a fear,
As the influx increased,
She knew He belonged not to Her only,
But to each and every devotee,
Yet He would tease Her playfully,
Talk to Her lovingly,
And She would respond brimming over joyfully…
Kaushalya and Her darling infant Rama,
Yashoda and Her beloved child Gopala,
Eashwaramma and Her adorable little Sathya,
She will always remain part of His Glory,
His glorious story,
To hear,
And know of it,
Indeed blessed are we,
Time stops still,
Time does freeze,
As we enjoy the ripples,
In this cascade of Divine Memories…
