In plain words
Once I went to Madras on some work. Here, Subbamma died. As I was coming back from Madras by car, there were people near the cremation ground. ‘How is Subbamma?’ I asked. ‘Swami! She passed away only last night. We are stacking this firewood to cremate her,’ they said. ‘Oh, is that so,’ I said, turned the car round and went to their house.
Her mother and sisters lived in Bukkapatnam. The moment they saw me they wept aloud. ‘Swami! After serving You all this time, she waited with such hope to drink water from Your hand and give up her life. Could You not grant her even this much blessing? Is this the reward for the service she did?’ they said, and began to praise me in reproach. ‘She has not gone at all. Just be quiet,’ I said.
How could she not have gone yet? Ants had gathered on her eyes; there was no life in the body. ‘I gave my word that I would pour water into her mouth at the time she went. I never break my word,’ I said, and I myself put a tulasī leaf in a tumbler of water and went to her body: ‘Subbamma! Subbamma!’ I called. She opened her eyes. Everyone was astonished. ‘Subbamma has come back to life,’ they said. That was not coming back to life; she came back for me. I had given her my word, had I not! That word had to be kept. It was for that that she came back. I told the sisters this. They rejoiced greatly. With the handkerchief in my hand I wiped away the ants and made her drink water from the glass. She placed both her hands on my feet. She opened her eyes and looked at my face. Tears streamed from her eyes. She breathed her last. In this way she attained a good end.
Once I have given my word, I never forget it. I always act according to that word. Many people cannot believe this. ‘Ah… Swami is just saying something,’ they think. My word never goes in vain. Whatever I say I will surely do; I will do it, I will do it.