In plain words
You must take your meal in our house,’ she hoped. ‘I will surely come,’ Bābā gave His word. She got all the dishes ready. She waited in every way, poor woman! But Bābā did not go at the time He had said! She put everything on a plate. She went up close: ‘Why, Bābā, are You shaming me like this? Never mind my being shamed. You are breaking the word You gave. You will get the name of one who speaks untruth. You must not fall into untruth. You must keep the word You gave,’ she prayed, going before Bābā's picture. Meanwhile a dog came. It ate all the food she had cooked and went away. When she looked, the dog was eating. She took a stick and drove it away with a good beating. Then: ‘Chī! All I made has gone as an offering to a dog, and not to my God! What I made for God has gone as an offering to a dog. How unlucky I am!’ she grieved, poor woman! The next day she went to Bābā: ‘Bābā! You ought to keep the word You gave, ought You not! You ought to act according to the word You gave, ought You not! Why did You tell a lie?’ she asked. Bābā grew angry: ‘Saitān! Did I tell a lie! (There, ‘Saitān’ was the word for everything, ‘Saitān’, ‘Saitān’. Now the word is mostly ‘You buffalo!’, ‘You buffalo!’.) I have no need to tell a lie. I need not speak untruth to please you. I am the embodiment of Satya. You do not recognise My Satya. You think of Sāī Bābā only as this five-and-a-half-foot form, in a narrow feeling. All forms are Mine! There is no infinite feeling in you. Yours is a narrow feeling. Because of it you see difference. Who was that dog? Myself,’ He taught her. It is God's nature to make one feel that every form is Himself. But to fix one's aim on a single form, to think of it alone through words, through play and through songs, and then to change towards God because of the changes in it: this is nothing but a narrow feeling! God may come in any form. All forms are Himself!