In plain words
That goodness itself will protect you,’ he said, and he went away. From the day he went back to Puttaparthi, he would send a telegram every single day: ‘Set out at once and come.’ Taking to heart everything the Komati woman who made dosas next door to our house in Kamalapuram had said in those days, he was deeply distressed. Meanwhile two or three days went by. Everyone calmed down.
In those days I never had a dammidi in My hand. In that same village there was a businessman named Kotte Subbanna. A new medicine had come into his shop. He had to sell all of it. From it a great deal of money would come to him. So he called Me and said, ‘Raju! You must take on the task of making this medicine known among the people.’ Then I said, ‘If you tell people to take a medicine without their knowing anything about it, how will they take it?’ and I drew all the details out of him. I wrote a song about the virtues of that medicine. Then, taking two or three boys along, I began making it known in the streets. The medicine was called ‘Bālabhāskara’. The song I made about it goes like this:
Here it is, here it is, Bālabhāskara! Children, come! Come, children! A bloated belly, swollen legs, from the hand's aches and from ills, from careless feeding, from indigestion and loose bowels, for every one of them it does good, sirs! Children, come! Come, children! If you ask where it is, brother, there it is, over there: at Kotte Subbanna's shop alone you will find it, brother: Paṇḍit Śrī Gopālācārya's holy tonic, brother!