His advent was imminent,
As so many beings did pray,
The piteous cries of Mother Earth meant,
The Lord had to find a way…
The age of Kali,
Had a firm grip on all of humanity,
Chaos, murder, mayhem, unrighteousness,
With His advent the good, He had to bless…
He searched for a womb as pure as pure can be,
Virtuous, sacred, pious and holy,
A womb from which would blossom a divine flower,
And then His smiling gaze fell on Easwaramma…
She was the Mother He chose,
From the rest of humanity,
He picked her and she rose,
She suited His search for the right quality…
She was a gopi who looked longingly at Bala Gopala,
As mother Yashoda did lovingly cuddle her Krishna Kanhaiya,
And so the Lord had blessed her to be born as Easwaramma,
A mother to the present Avatara…
For as He has said – “I chose My mother, it was Me,
For there is no one born to give birth to Swami…”
Wonderful is the grace of Sai Avatara,
Matchless and supreme is His leela...
She was married to Pedda Venkamma Raju,
Daughter - in - law of Lakshmamma and Kondamma Raju,
Devout and true,
She would soon receive her due…
And so it was one fine morning,
As the temple bells did ring,
And the dew drops glistened with every sun beam,
In compliance with a dream,
Her mother in law asked Easwaramma not to be terrified,
If she experienced something strange and no one was by her side…
She set out to draw water from the well,
On the picturesque hills beyond the village her glance fell,
Lost in her thoughts as she was that day,
A bright ball of light came rolling her way…
The colour of azure,
Ever so pure,
Making sure,
A panacea, an answer, a response, a divine cure,
Enveloping her womb, making her swoon,
For many an anxious heart a much needed boon…
As she awoke,
Her womb she did tenderly stroke,
And knew for sure she was enceinte,
She confided in her mother in law as was her wont,
Who then asked her to keep it a secret,
To be pleased and joyful and not to fret…
Easwaramma seemed a simple rustic lady,
But she had an elevated destiny,
When the Lord’s glance fell on her, He looked no further,
For His earthly sojourn, He had chosen His mother,
A womb pristine,
The tears of those oppressed, He could no longer decline…
The Creator, the Father of Creation, the Divine Mother,
Had chosen none other,
But Easwaramma as His mother,
Kaushalya, Devaki and Yashoda,
The same reverence would now be there for Mother Easwaramma…
Musical instruments played on their own,
With golden hues Easwaramma shone,
Guided by her mother in law, engaged in prayer and worship,
The Lord’s name a constant chant on her lip,
When consulted astrologers predicted an auspicious event,
Hinting perhaps at a divine advent,
Musical instruments played to please the child she was carrying,
Solace, peace and joy this prophecy did bring…
She was known as Namagiriamma,
But her father in law renamed her Easwaramma,
Remembering the words of Venka Avadhoota,
Certain he was with regard to the coming of the divine,
Ever so wise he could read many a favourable sign…
Then on 23rd November 1926, at 05.06 am temple bells did chime,
For His advent the Lord had chosen His time,
Her mother in law was performing,
The worship of Sathya Narayana with a neighbour,
Eashwaramma went into labour,
As she tasted the prasadam, she gave birth,
She was instrumental in delivering the Lord unto Mother Earth…
The sun rose over the horizon,
Worshiping with it’s first rays her Divine Son…
She cradled Him, nursed Him, He was her delight,
And grandfather Kondama Raju’s sole pride,
Enveloped in maya, ignorant of the play of destiny,
Slowly she realized her child was extraordinary,
He had come to set humanity free…
He left childhood behind, shedding attachments too,
Singing ‘Manasa Bhajare ‘ He took the helm as the promised Guru,
Along with hundreds of devotees, she began to address Him as Swami,
Always concerned about Him was she,
Anxious and worried as a mother would be,
But being ever vigilant, His every care and comfort she did oversee...
Soft was Mother Easwaramma’s heart,
Compassion incarnate was her Son, and she too had to play her part,
Seeing the village children’s plight, she asked her son gently,
To start a school for them in Puttaparthi,
With a sound education they would grow,
They wouldn’t have to walk miles and miles anymore…
Then moved by the village folks suffering, she did Him entreat,
To open a hospital which would their maladies treat,
Giving medicines, finding a cure,
Their woes helping them endure…
After this she approached Him once more,
Moved by the agony, thirsty villagers had in store,
No water for miles around,
Ever so dry was the ground…
So delighted was He by Grihamamayi’s plea,
He had chosen His mother, hadn’t He?
He had come for this very purpose – to Love All and Serve all,
She had sensed and responded to His divine call,
Saying and doing all things right,
Keeping His mission within sight…
Shy and unassuming though she was,
One fine day she let all know His divine cause,
When at a gathering a well known pundit did ask a question,
About His inception,
She did reply at the behest of her divine son,
‘It was a Pravesha – an entrance, not a Prasava – conception’…
Easwaramma – so rightfully chosen was she,
To be such an intimate part of His glorious story,
Of history,
Her life a lesson for you and me…
On 6th May 1972, even as the Summer Course was on at Brindavan,
She called out ‘Swami, Swami’, to her Lord and son,
And silently passed on,
Having fulfilled the purpose for which she had been born,
Completing her divine song,
She merged with the One for whom all souls did long,
To whom the known and unknown, seen and unseen did belong…
