S.V.R. Naidu recounts:
"It was early morning. I was lying in bed, half asleep, when Bhagavan suddenly appeared and called me. I looked up to see Him, and He extended His hand to me. Grasping my wrist, He led me into a deserted place. Before us blazed a huge bonfire. The flames leapt high (they even danced, I thought, rejoicing in the Presence of Lord SAI).
Bhagavan said:
"You have always wanted to understand My nature. Now listen..."
His eyes were radiant and inspired.
He turned toward the brightly burning fire and said softly but imperatively:
"My nature is pure Love, like this fire you see—pure, mighty, and Divine."
I do not know whether it was because of the morning chill or His words, but a cold shiver ran through my entire being, and I grasped Him more tightly.
Then, recovering myself, I boldly asked Him:
"Lord, You are like this fire. But fire makes no distinction between good and evil. It burns everything in its path. If a believer and an atheist put their hands into it, it will naturally burn both of them."
He looked intently into my eyes.
"Divine Love," He said, and His Voice overpowered the crackling of the flames, "ultimately burns everyone. But how you burn depends on who you are."
With reverent awe, I looked at the Spiritual Teacher, inwardly wondering why He always spoke in riddles, and said:
"Lord, I do not understand."
Smiling, He made a circular movement with His hand and materialized a piece of wood.
It was a small piece, probably a foot long and less than a centimeter thick.
Handing it to me, He asked me to light it from the bonfire.
I did so, but could not hold the wood for long, as it burned up quickly, leaving only a tiny handful of ash.
Swami said:
"Such is the atheist, cynic, and skeptic: when he burns, all that remains of him is ash—the ash of doubts, the ash of his ego and skepticism."
Then, taking a step back, He again made a circular movement with His hand, and this time materialized a large piece of something white.
He asked me to light it from the bonfire.
I obeyed and was surprised to discover that it was camphor. It burned up within a few minutes.
And Swami asked:
"And what remained of the camphor?"
I looked at the place where it had burned—there was nothing there.
When I slowly raised my eyes to Him, He said:
My child, those whom I have chosen ignite the fire of My Love as camphor does.
Once they surrender themselves to Me, nothing remains of them, not a trace of their former existence. But can you smell the fragrance?"
And He added with a sparkle in His eyes:
"They devote their lives to serving Me with such joy and willingness that their actions and thoughts become a sweet fragrance from which the whole world benefits."
He released my hand, and through the veil of tears clouding my vision, I saw Him approach the blazing bonfire and slowly, majestically, step into the fire—the Fire that was truly Himself.
I was still lying in bed, but now I was completely awake. The faint glow of the morning sun announced the beginning of a new day. Obeying an impulse, I smelled my right palm and laughed to myself: what difference did it make whether it smelled of camphor or not?
The Teacher had come—the embodiment of the SUPREME REALITY—and had taught me a lesson—yet another lesson in this game of Divine Love!"
"It was early morning. I was lying in bed, half asleep, when Bhagavan suddenly appeared and called me. I looked up to see Him, and He extended His hand to me. Grasping my wrist, He led me into a deserted place. Before us blazed a huge bonfire. The flames leapt high (they even danced, I thought, rejoicing in the Presence of Lord SAI).
Bhagavan said:
"You have always wanted to understand My nature. Now listen..."
His eyes were radiant and inspired.
He turned toward the brightly burning fire and said softly but imperatively:
"My nature is pure Love, like this fire you see—pure, mighty, and Divine."
I do not know whether it was because of the morning chill or His words, but a cold shiver ran through my entire being, and I grasped Him more tightly.
Then, recovering myself, I boldly asked Him:
"Lord, You are like this fire. But fire makes no distinction between good and evil. It burns everything in its path. If a believer and an atheist put their hands into it, it will naturally burn both of them."
He looked intently into my eyes.
"Divine Love," He said, and His Voice overpowered the crackling of the flames, "ultimately burns everyone. But how you burn depends on who you are."
With reverent awe, I looked at the Spiritual Teacher, inwardly wondering why He always spoke in riddles, and said:
"Lord, I do not understand."
Smiling, He made a circular movement with His hand and materialized a piece of wood.
It was a small piece, probably a foot long and less than a centimeter thick.
Handing it to me, He asked me to light it from the bonfire.
I did so, but could not hold the wood for long, as it burned up quickly, leaving only a tiny handful of ash.
Swami said:
"Such is the atheist, cynic, and skeptic: when he burns, all that remains of him is ash—the ash of doubts, the ash of his ego and skepticism."
Then, taking a step back, He again made a circular movement with His hand, and this time materialized a large piece of something white.
He asked me to light it from the bonfire.
I obeyed and was surprised to discover that it was camphor. It burned up within a few minutes.
And Swami asked:
"And what remained of the camphor?"
I looked at the place where it had burned—there was nothing there.
When I slowly raised my eyes to Him, He said:
My child, those whom I have chosen ignite the fire of My Love as camphor does.
Once they surrender themselves to Me, nothing remains of them, not a trace of their former existence. But can you smell the fragrance?"
And He added with a sparkle in His eyes:
"They devote their lives to serving Me with such joy and willingness that their actions and thoughts become a sweet fragrance from which the whole world benefits."
He released my hand, and through the veil of tears clouding my vision, I saw Him approach the blazing bonfire and slowly, majestically, step into the fire—the Fire that was truly Himself.
I was still lying in bed, but now I was completely awake. The faint glow of the morning sun announced the beginning of a new day. Obeying an impulse, I smelled my right palm and laughed to myself: what difference did it make whether it smelled of camphor or not?
The Teacher had come—the embodiment of the SUPREME REALITY—and had taught me a lesson—yet another lesson in this game of Divine Love!"
