In plain words
‘All right! There is no use talking with this man,’ the police thought, and went back. They wrote a report to the magistrate. From there a summons came. Chāndbhāī Patel did not want to send Bābā. So there were talks with the higher officials. There they set up a commission, to settle this affair. Bābā had to give evidence before that commission. Then the conversation between the commission and Bābā went on like this:
What is your name? Bābā.
What is your father's name? Bābā.
What is your religion? The religion of God.
Where have you come from? I have come from the Ātma.
What is your caste? The caste of God.
He went on giving answers in this way. No one could draw out of Bābā anything on ‘Who is Sai Bābā, where and when was He born?’ ‘Is Divinity as far beyond our grasp as this?’ the commission thought, and went away without even asking any further details.
On another occasion, one year, the birthday of Dattātreya fell on the fifth day of the bright half of Mārgaśira. For it, many devotees gathered there. Among them came one called Kaijāk, a man of very fine learning. His full name was Balavant Kaijāk. Even as he arrived, Bābā had taken up a stick! He went on driving away all those sitting there: ‘Go! Go! Satan!’ No one understood what it was for. ‘I am in the pains of childbirth. Go away, all of you, go away!’ Bābā shouted loudly. He let out great cries. In those days it was not only shouting; as the chance came, there was beating with the stick too. When everyone ran off, the stick would even be hurled after them.