Satya Sai Baba, who was admired and worshipped as a spiritual stalwart by millions across the globe, was also called a “godman” by some — not always a term of deference. The spiritual mastery ascribed to him came to be questioned in his own lifetime. The “vibhuti” (holy ash) he willed to materialise from nowhere was derided

as being nothing more than a magician’s sleight of hand, and his readiness to oblige his rich or famous followers by producing watches or rings for them out of thin air was put down by cynics, rationalists and atheists as the ploy of a worldly-wise swami who was careful to pander to his upper-crust clientele in the hope that they would propagate his name. No matter which way one may look, there is no denying that the former Satya Narayan Raju, born in an ordinary farmer’s family of Puttaparthi in Andhra Pradesh around 85 years ago, led a most unusual life, especially by the standards of those who are regarded as having climbed the ladder of spirituality.
Not one to cloister himself in a life of prayer, he engaged in super-active service to the community. It is said thousands of villages in Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu now have water thanks to the philanthropy generated by his famous social work trust, which attracted contributions from millions around the world and which is now valued at a staggering `40,000 crores. It is social service on such a gargantuan scale that sets the departed Satya Sai Baba apart from other men and women who have acquired the status of spiritual leader. Free educational institutions and hospitals offering top-of-the-line facilities in hundreds of countries are a lasting memorial to the Baba’s idea of serving society, not to mention the schemes executed under the thousands of projects nourished by the trust he founded around 40 years ago. To serve man is to serve God is a verity on which many saints have sought to found their lives. To such aspirants, asceticism and godliness were one. Not to the Sai Baba. Apparently, he didn’t think much of service going hand in hand with penury. Indeed, he lived in inordinately comfortable surroundings and did not think this incompatible with the life of a guru or of a spiritually elevated servant of humanity. And yet, he was no jet-setting swami. He had travelled abroad but once, and that was when he visited Uganda for a conference several decades ago. There was about his spiritual coordinates mystery, but no mysticism. The Sai Baba perhaps saw himself more as a god, less a yogi or a sufi.
The Sai Baba did not found a religion; nor indeed was he known for a system of thought. But all things considered, he had — at the philosophical plane — a sturdy appreciation of the diverse ways in which mortals seek to satisfy their spiritual urges. His teachings and example point to a belief in the unity of religions, not the compartmentalisation of faiths. He neither preached in favour or against anyone’s chosen religious path. He was not secular in the sense of celebrating at his ashram Ramnavami, Id and Christmas, as politicians are wont to do. But he did criticise the demolition of the Babri Masjid. It was this ability to see above the horizon that made the Sai Baba very special as a spiritual and social service icon or even cult figure in our materialist and technological age, with which he appeared not to be at odds. The late spiritualist had followers of myriad religious hues — Hindu, Muslim and Christian, to name a few — within the country and outside. This is truly an extraordinary feat in our troubled times when half of the world’s problems appear to derive from a contest of faiths. It was probably this aspect of the master from which many drew comfort.