In plain words
I, Ramesh, Suresh. The teachers were amazed. Had they copied something? One number 6, 60, 600: how could they be connected? There was no way for them even to meet one another. Then, after we went, the class teachers asked: “How did you get these answers?” “We wrote them then; now we don't remember,” they said. There was no way at all for him to suspect anything. Did they write by looking from close by? That was not it. His handwriting was his own. Mine was My own writing. How could they have any ground for doubt? I said: “I will never deceive those who trust Me.”
There are those who were ruined for not trusting, but none in this world who trusted were ruined, none, none, none.
Those ruined for not trusting God are there by the crore. But not even one who trusted God has been ruined. They will never be ruined. Now and then ups and downs may come. They will win victory again. After it happened that way, I came back to Puttaparthi. Why? Many changes had taken place there. I was not going to school. The teachers came to the house. All the children were coming to the house. I was taking out whatever they all needed and giving it to them. With things going this way, the people of that house could not bear it; they sent a telegram to the parents and called them. “Take Swami away,” they said. Then I got on the bus for Puttaparthi. By the time I got on that bus, the children had all arranged buses for themselves. I said, “Buses cannot go to Puttaparthi. They go only as far as Penukonda and Dharmavaram.” There was not even a road then. Sixty years ago, where was there a road? “No one must come,” I said. Every day I used to do the school prayer there, on the stage in the school.
I used to pray for the oneness of all religions. Everyone would pray joyfully. The teachers too would pray. After I came here, there was no one else to pray. There was a boy called Abdul Gafoor, a Muslim. His voice was good.