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Posted on: Sept 21, 2015
SAI STREE SHAKTI SERIES - 07
Part 02
GODDESSES OF OUR LIVES
Mrs. Prem Bahl, Mrs. Indu Singh and Ms. Muni Kaul
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“My experience at the Sri Sathya Sai Higher Secondary School, Prasanthi Nilayam was one of love and joy, thanks to our very own holy trinity – Headmistress Aunty, Warden Aunty, and Kitchen Aunty. The love and kindness they showered upon me when I was so little and so far from my home nourished my heart and nurtured my soul” recalls Bhavani Munshi, (1996–2001) a professional educator from Toronto, Canada.
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Over the past 36 years, Headmistress Aunty, Warden Aunty and Kitchen Aunty have moulded, mended, and guided thousands of students to become the persons they are, bearing the label of Sai students. “They chiselled, our character, they snapped off our silly habits, they sculptured the personality that makes us cope with the strange, sometimes scary world outside” remembers Mallika Chandrashekhar, (1986-94).
“Personally, they made me loving, giving and kind because they were all these to the children of the school. They were all these to me. They never stopped to doubt whether their love made a difference to us; they just kept being their nature...angels without disguise.
“They taught me to be gentle…how to gently stand amidst the storm of controversies and complexities. They taught me tolerance…how to tolerate other people and their different point of view. They taught me that you don’t have to shout your truth…you have to simply live it. They taught me love….by giving abundance of it not only while I was a student, by through all these years of trials, tribulations and success, big and small in my personal life.
I fell and faltered many a times after I left their wonder-filled institution. I feared and fretted initially. The outside was unlike the sheltered and safe environment I had gotten so used to. But I didn’t have to learn how to conduct myself, because 8 years had firmly instilled the values and principles of Master through His personally chosen teachers. I had the values and morals in every fibre of my being. Every cell echoed the memory of the teachings of Swami. No matter what event took place, no matter how overwhelmed certain situations were, no matter what kind of people with varied intentions and personalities crossed my paths, it was as if a golden bubble of Swami’s and the teachers love was enveloping me. Every time. All the time.
“Today, if I breathe, it is with their love that I do. If I love, it is their contribution to creating this heart that I love with. If I speak sweet words, it is they who first put those letters within me to form those words. If I show kindness, it is they who taught by example and schooled me likewise. I am what I am…because they are what they are. To us. To me. That is how we all wish to be like them. Perhaps as minor versions, but gratitude can best only be expressed by emulation” Mallika Chandrashekhar asserts with deepest gratitude.
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Sai Venkata Lakshmi (1981-1991) found in her three school heads the best exemplars, after Bhagawan, of literally living: “My Life is My message". She says, “Their love for Swami and His children and the special care they took when children were ill are commendable and an experience in itself. Their dedication to their work and quest for perfection 24x7 in the knowledge that Swami is omnipresent and knows all and they want to please Swami to the maximum extent are noble qualities worth emulating in our lives.
“Despite the large number of children, they ensured that everyone ate their food and children were not skipping meals, and took ample care to keep the menus exciting and the meals nutritious, hygienic and student friendly. When children were not well, they would double-check last thing in the late night before they went to bed to see whether sick children were asleep and comfortable. Else, they would sometimes stay up the whole night taking care.
“Now when I am a parent, I can only begin to understand their love, patience and dedication in so many day-to-day activities which they are doing continuously for years together always having a smile on their face and enthusiasm in their step - without grumbling, fussing or shouting - waking up children, getting them ready, feeding them, ensuring they study, good dose of games and physical activity accompanied with other activities like yoga and music.
“Recently, when my parents passed away, the aunties came to know, and they called us to school and said, “Swami is always there taking care of you. However, in case you want to discuss or share or want guidance for anything that you would contact your parents, please know that we are here for you like your parents and you can approach us at any time. They showered so much love on us that day taking time from their busy schedules. Where in the world today can we find such unconditional and lasting love?”
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Dallas, Texas based Software Developer Suvarna (1992-1997) recalls “Muni Aunty, Warden Aunty and Kitchen Aunty have taught a lot to us through their unceasing love, spirit of service and sacrifice over the past 36 years of the history of Primary school. What is very touching to me is how each one of us alumni members is remembered by our name, and what we used to do in school and such details. Each of us is remembered in a unique way because we really did matter to them as Swami's dearest property.”
Prashanti Goswami (1981-86) International Volunteer, Uganda states “What really moves me about the three of them is their thoughtfulness and personalised attention for even their former students. My brother Mayur, also an alumna of the school, passed away in 2001 as a promising young man. Our dearest aunties never fail to remember him fondly whenever we meet. This kindness of theirs always touches my mother and me very deeply.”
Bangalore based Atyam Raghavendra (1981-95) is a Senior Vice-President in the banking industry. He fondly recalls, “Muni Aunty, Warden Aunty and Kitchen Aunty were a perfect blend of loving and co-parenting, however with an uncanny ability to maintain discipline among the children. Even at the tender age it was evident to us that these 3 teachers were keen to strain every sinew to please Swami and look after us, up to His expectations.”
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He has a recent memory “of a visit to Parthi and Primary School after Swami's physical departure and when I was still coming to grips with the fact that Swami had withdrawn from the physical and feeling a vacuum within. Meeting and interacting with three of them was a mood lifter and I left with better spirits and a lighter heart from Primary School. As I was walking back from Primary School to Ashram, I felt that Swami continues to pour forth His Love via our teachers and hence we can see and experience Him in our beloved teachers.”
Aarti Nagaraj, (1993-2001) a Dubai based journalist recalls “Swami called His students His only property, and this precious property He entrusted in the care of our Headmistress, Warden and Kitchen Aunties. And what nurturing love, affection and care they showered on us! How much time and effort they put into each one of us to ensure we become capable of reflecting Swami’s love!
“The biggest gifts they have given me are the life lessons they have lived themselves. They have inspired me to always remain a part of Swami’s mission, and displayed how to work tirelessly and selflessly for causes bigger than ourselves.”
Shalini Krishnan (1978-1986) quotes the Vedas that declare, “Acharya Devo Bhava” because for her, Warden Aunty, Muni Aunty and Indu Aunty are living testimony of the declaration that teacher is indeed God. She explains, “I am honoured to salute these wonderful souls who continue to devote their lives educating, educaring and feeding their students. Their efforts have been rewarded by the calibre of people, we, their students are today. May we always bestow upon them the dignity, honour and respect, they so rightfully deserve, by following an iota of their personal example. They are the real thyaga jeevis who perform miracles every moment with their selfless love and caring, in absolute silence, without any fanfare or expectation of acknowledgement or recognition. Being amazing, efficient and proficient comes to them as naturally as breathing. Wow!”
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Alumna Sai Amrita Kaul, (1996-2003), a special education teacher in Toronto, Canada sums up the impact of the three Goddesses from her school upon her life, its purpose and her outlook when she says, “I am a teacher, a daughter, a devotee. I am a spiritual seeker, a server to those I can help, an advocate for those who may not be able to stand up for themselves. I live with strong intention and I am forever, a learner. I am a product of the grace and guidance of Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba, whose immense benevolence allowed me to be the person that I am because of the outstanding influence of the Goddesses in my life: Headmistress Aunty, Warden Aunty and Kitchen Aunty, whose blessings have stayed with me through my life and undoubtedly, continue to guide me in the right direction.
“In 1996, I joined the Sri Sathya Sai Primary School in Grade 6. I was brand new and was just getting used to all the rules and schedules, and I noticed that everything at school worked perfectly, like a well-oiled machine and often felt that I was struggling to keep up with the pace. Approaching any of the Aunties felt scary because they were so well respected and seemed to know everything about everything all the time!
“Once, I just happened to be passing by the office and I heard a voice call me in. Upon entering, I found Headmistress Aunty, Warden Aunty and Kitchen Aunty sitting there, all three of them, together! They each took turns asking me questions about how I was doing and if I was able to adjust to all the changes at school. “Do you have a lot of mosquito bites?” “Do you like the food?” “Are you able to wash your clothes?” “Have you being going to the toilet regularly?” Oh my goodness! I was so embarrassed by all the questions, especially that last one, and my ears turned bright red. They chuckled, and then Headmistress Aunty looked at me with all sincerity and said “if you ever have any problem, come and tell us, okay?” I mumbled some sort of acknowledgement and hurried away in the moment. Over time, however, I came to realize that this offer was not just mere lip service; it was 100% true. Each one of the Aunties remembered personal details about my life and my needs and frequently took a moment out of their day to ask me about it until such time that I became truly comfortable around them.
“As I got older, I allowed myself to have more interactions with the three of them, and I realised the magnitude of their responsibility and just how much they did to take care of us and teach us the right things. I saw the immense power of their devotion, and how it really was their greatest source of energy. Between caring for so many children, dealing with all of the administrative duties of running a school and still being on top of all the many events happening in Prasanthi Nilayam, there was hardly ever a moment to relax, but I can personally attest to the fact that I have never actually seen them looking tired. Somehow, through it all, my three amazing Aunties could run the world, and still look like absolute paragons of beauty and grace in time to go for darshan, where it appeared that Swami was always waiting for them with a smile to give them that extra boost. And then, they would come straight back to serving, cleaning, feeding and checking up on us at school.
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“When I moved to Prasanthi Nilayam, my goal was to be around Swami all the time. Little did I realize that being around Swami’s favourite people was one of the greatest gifts of grace that I have ever received in my life.
“There will never be enough words to express my sincere gratitude and deep, deep love for my Aunties, but I do endeavour, each day, to be the best version of myself and to represent them as well as our Beloved Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba who gave me the opportunity to live with and learn from these Goddesses.
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I Love You Always. I Thank You and Seek Your Blessings Each Day. “
Oh My Goddesses!
Have you ever known a Goddess?
Seen Her working even while at rest?
I’ve seen the magic, the splendour, the fury
Felt it strong in the recesses of my chest"
I know that torrent, how it flows
Thick like honey
Quick like current
Slick like angelic effervescence
Because the Goddess only shows Her powers
In how Her children grow.
“Make us proud”
“Turn around!”
“Stand straight, we said!”
“You are our daughters!”
“You grow like flowers”
“Now, go clean up your mess!”
“But first, have dinner.”
And so it is
So easily hidden
Within plain sight
The Magic, The Splendour, The Fury
Of Goddesses
And of their might
Be mindful that you don’t miss it
Always keep a keen eye
Pay attention to the beauty
Read between the lines
There’s love in those words
It’s strung into every movement
Because the Goddesses, of unending power,
Set you into the infinite cycle of
Deity and Child
Worship and Work
Divine and Divine
And Divine
That’s how Goddesses work.
– Sai Amrita Kaul (1996-2003)
Three Threads in a Tapestry of Love An extraordinary set of coincidences catapulted me in 1986 to Puttaparthi more than two thousand kilometres and three days of travel from my home in North India. I was a few months shy of my 10th birthday - sensitive, uncertain, and growing increasingly homesick during my early days in the primary school. In the evenings and nights, the Headmistress and Warden would gather kids around them, especially the homesick ones, to play with. There were toys and laughs and lots of hugs, and I would watch from the far edge of the crowd, feeding myself with the glow of their warmth. It was the beginning of a long journey at the ashram school for me, one in which I had to learn a lot, very quickly. About Not Cheating Oneself When the second class exam in the subject occurred, it so happened I had a clear view of this student’s answer sheet from the desk I sat at. I remember thinking how naïve everyone there was, as I copied responses from her sheet into mine. Unfortunately for me, the teacher in charge saw what I was doing and called me out for cheating. Even though I hadn’t cheated very much at all in my school life before, I knew how such situations went down. I took in a deep breath, flatly refused the teacher’s charge and insisted I hadn’t cheated at all. Do it confidently and consistently, and you can begin to induce a doubt even in the teacher’s mind. Luckily, none of my classmates seemed to have noticed. This led to a familiar outcome in schools – I was soon shuffled into the Headmistress’s office. The Sanskrit teacher shared what had occurred in class. I braced myself, and then provided an indignant defence – that I came from a ‘good family’, that I hadn’t done it, that I was being picked on because I didn’t do well in the previous exam…and so on. Once I finished my reasoning, I reminded everyone again that my father fought in the military (and, by extension, I came from a ‘good family’). Righteous indignation, even when made up, must have a smell to it, because I think the room was reeking of it by the time I finished. There was silence, before Headmistress aunty finally spoke – ‘I believe you’ she said. There was no cross-questioning of the facts, accusations or circumstances. She asked the Sanskrit teacher to leave us alone, and started to speak of other things – about how I was finding the school, if I were settling down and so on. Then she gave me a hug! A hug?!! By the time I started walking out of her office, I realized I was feeling unsettled. I had not been punished or pulled up, even. Instead I was walking away without the taint of being a cheat. This was not how such situations were supposed to go down. No Principal I knew would have believed a student’s story over that of the teacher in charge.
I went back to Headmistress aunty’s office during study hours that evening, after dinner. I was feeling troubled. Since I was publicly now not a cheat (per aunty’s agreement with my position earlier in the day) it was becoming harder living with the realization inside that I actually was one. When we were alone, I told her – ‘Aunty, I lied. Actually, I cheated in the exam’. My words hung silently in the air. I don’t recall what she said right after that because my eyes were ready to bubble over. I remember she hugged me again, wiped my tears and told me to wait. She went to an altar close behind her desk, and came out holding up a beautiful silver tumbler. ‘This is water that Swami blessed today’ she said. I later came to recognize it as the kind of tumbler kept by Swami’s altar for Him to sip from. She asked me to drink from it. ‘Don’t cheat again’ she said. I nodded quietly. Thirty years on, I still remember the sparkle in the water as it fell between my lips from the upheld tumbler. It felt incredibly special - as if I were partaking directly from the elixir of the Gods. There are few moments that you can trace back to as the exact instance of when a behaviour was cleaved from your life, when change occurred. That night, in making me sip water which Swami had blessed, aunty gave me such a moment. For all these years since then, I have never consciously been able to cheat in my life. I don’t think it was the sacred water, though I believed it was that for a long time, but the fact that she trusted in my goodness even when there was none on display. That she was willing, without drama or discussion, to disregard the facts for a higher good she knew a child could be capable of. Given the purity of innocence in place of shame, I embraced tightly the blessing of being good. About Little Things, and Finding Balance I didn’t like Warden Aunty, at first. She was too practical, too efficient, too all-white (she only wore the one colour) and appeared removed from the heady idealism of the headmistress. Boys in their seventh grades are mischievous. One night, a couple of classmates got the idea to pour molten wax into plastic containers. The idea was to take the boring candle shape and turn it into something more fun. This exercise wasn’t without risk, since we weren’t supposed to be lighting candles after lights-out time at night. When warden aunty found out about it, instead of ‘banning’ such activity, she asked us to try it out in the open – under some supervision but with a lot more permission to try something creative. Soon, we had colourful candles in interesting shapes fill the dorm!
One holiday afternoon, aunty gathered students in the dorm and started us on antakshari – a singing contest. In the back and forth, we ran through the regular songs, and a friend pitched in with a popular number from the Beatles. We had much fun, and later, I followed aunty into the prayer hall for bhajans. Suddenly, I realized I had experienced a moment of maturity. It was liberating to know it was 'okay' to sing a Beatles' song with the same innocence as a bhajan. It reminded me of my connections to the world outside the ashram, and nudged me to not be judgmental about labelling things as 'good' or 'bad'. Aunty was especially potent in enforcing common-sensical rules that ensured the daily routine in a large community was completed on time. She never hesitated in pulling me up. It was crucial how she did it, in plain sight and in the same way as with anyone making the same mistakes. It is exceptionally easy for children to assume bias and favouritism in their teachers, and warden aunty had an incredibly practical manner of ripping right through that possibility.
I grew to cherish the stability aunty provided, both in her matter-of-fact dealings with Swami and in her worship of Him, through her many ways to connect with classmates more boisterous and mischievous than I, and the manner in which she fed off their energy and channelled it. Food for the Soul ‘When parents come back to see their children, what face will I show them?’ These were Swami’s words to kitchen aunty, admonishing her for the less-than-stellar nutritional profile of breakfast one morning. I genuinely thought she had the most difficult job of all – keeping everyone happy in the incredibly active space that was the hostel dining hall. Food was one reason my homesickness was especially acute. I hadn’t ever eaten anything south Indian before, so much of what was dished out from the kitchen was new to my palate and not easy to adapt to. My first real introduction to kitchen aunty came about because she cared enough to find out which of us were having problems with the food, and why. She realized the problem wasn’t specific, and so she got the few of us from the north as much of a north Indian diet that was possible each day. Even back then, we all had a vague sense that feeding so many children each day had got to be a hugely difficult task, as taken for granted as the sunrise and just as momentous, each day. My other impression of Kitchen Aunty had to do with fruit cake, chocolate milk and a host of other treats. I got sung happy birthday to by the entire school as I stood alongside other students also born in the same month. I had no idea birthdays were celebrated that way in the school, and for some reason I always attributed it to kitchen aunty. We were too little then, and are too far away now to comprehend what it must mean to do what these three wonderful teachers (and all the rest) all do for someone else’s children. I got a chance to ask this of Kitchen aunty many years later, as an adult, and she replied in a manner as humble, and as childlike – ‘Swami told us to take care of the children like our own’. It seemed reason and inspiration enough for her to discover and nourish the light of God in little children that entered the school. For me, the memories of my time at school are enriched by the richest weaves in the magnificent tapestry of love these three lives are. May we carry their light and blessings in our hearts! |
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Alumni, SSS School, Ooty & Prasanthi Nilayam
Team Radio Sai
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