The Song He Sings

Thirty five years ago, when Baba was emerging from teenage, He sang this song while at the mandir (temple) on the outskirts of the village where He was born. He has been, since childhood, a stream of sweetness, singing His way into the hearts of all around Him. Since He was not of the earth, but very concerned to transform the earth into Heaven, His songs then, as now, were designed as a call to man to benefit from the mystery, the majesty and the magnificence of His incarnation. This song, in Telugu, emerged from Him spontaneously, on the morning of Vaikunta Ekadasi (the holy day in the Hindu calendar celebrating the opening of the doors of Heaven), in 1945, while devotees were busily stringing thick garlands of tulsi (basil) leaves to worship Him.

I have heard it sung since 1948 by those to whom He dictated it. It was also printed in 1946, along with other songs sung by Baba in those early days, at Venkatagiri by the Raja Saheb.

"Choothaamu, Ra Ra," it exhorts us. "Come! We shall see! Come! Awake!" it warns. "Arise!" it commands. "Advance!" it pleads. And through this song, in cosmic compassion, the call comes to each one of us even today.



Come brothers! Come sisters! We shall go
To holy Puttaparthi now. It seems
He wears a lovely robe of orange silk.
His is heavenly glory; He is the Lord Himself.
He calls to give us freedom.
He says, they say, "I shall shower grace."

On the Chitravathi sands,
In the shadow of the hill,
This Baba, they say, daily reveals
That He is God in human form.
It seems He was at Shirdi last,
And is here, for our sake, again.

Come brothers! Come sisters! We shall go.
They say He waves His hands
As He often did, while there.
'Tis said they offer all you ask of Him.
He is, they say, Siva and Rama,
Krishna and Maruti too.
All forms of God are one in Him;
You can see Him as such and such,
When you are good and true.
He is the God the
Kaliyuga doth need; 
That's why, they say, He's come
To cleanse the world of lie and sin.
Of mercy, he is the ocean vast.

Come brothers! Come sisters! We shall go.
They say He is resplendent,
Resting on a floral swing.
Our hallelujah is the swing;
Adoration, the plank; homage, the chains;
Hymns in praise, the fragrance of the flowers.
Whenever one prays in agony,
It seems He heals in a trice;
Like the cow, when the calf does moo,
He hurries, hastens, runs.
His glance, they say, is soft and soothing;
His words are nectar-sweet.
Those who go to Puttaparthi
Are on the royal road, they say,
While we, they say, tarry in lanes, cursing destiny,
Caught in
maya, with none to liberate us.
As soon as He Wills, 'tis said, His palm is full
vibhuti, which He gives at once
To those who struggle, suffer, stray.
Do not say, "We are busy now; some time later."

Come brothers! Come sisters! Let us go.
We'll go to holy Puttaparthi
For the
darsan of the Lord.
Join us, you uppish pseudo-wise,
And learn a little of His glory.
He digs His fingers into a heap of sand,
With a chuckle on the lip
And a twinkle in the eye;
Wet balls of sand become
laddus round! 
From far, far away, some dim-eyed dons
Pronounce it magic,
mantra, tantra.
Be deaf to them; get up and start.
Don't reckon hardships; the reward is great
In Parthi mandir, now, on this holy day,
Tulsi leaves are strung into garlands galore,
While He sings this song to bless the happy throng.



This call has brought the world to Puttaparthi where the Third World Conference delegates, numbering about ten thousand, from various units of the Sri Sathya Sai Seva Samithi, are meeting during the Birthday festival, 1980.

This tulsi leaf - Part IV of 'Sathyam Sivam Sundaram' - is offered at His Lotus Feet by a humble garland stringer.

N. Kasturi
Prasanthi Nilayam
27-7-1980 (Guru Poornima)

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Written by N. Kasturi M.A., B.L.