In plain words
You know, Goldstein used to be very stout. He and his wife sat in a front seat. The hijackers were shooting the people around them. They went on in fear that in the next minute their own turn might come. Then Goldstein said to his wife, “Today Swami told me, ‘Do not go.’ But I set out in my obstinacy. I am reaping the result of it.” One hijacker's eye fell on them. He aimed his gun at Goldstein's wife. Her eyes closed, rapt in it, she was chanting Sai's Name, “Sairam, Sairam, Sairam.” At that, the hijacker let her be. In this way they had to remain captives in the hijackers' hands for a long time. There was no food or drink, no sleep. They were crushed by this very anxiety. Goldstein's wife had abundant Bhakti. Women generally have more Bhakti. Men too have Bhakti. But they cannot speak of it openly. She said to her husband, “Do not worry about anything. Contemplate Swami.” The hijackers told them, “Sit in your seats,” and went on to the seats behind them. All the little children and the women there were in a panic. But what did the hijackers care for their distress! Without mercy they shot down so many. After that the situation grew more terrifying still. Goldstein and his wife, both of them, kept on remembering Swami. Goldstein did not say it aloud, but in his mind he kept on thinking, ‘Sairam, Sairam, Sairam.’ In anguish, “When will we be freed from the clutches of these hijackers!”, the two of them sat with their eyes closed.
All the ammunition in the hijackers' guns ran out. The police seized and bound the hijackers and set these two free. When the police questioned him about the incident, Goldstein's voice would not come to answer them. He kept on thinking of Swami with his eyes closed. They took the two of them down from that plane. The next day Goldstein and his wife went on to America in another plane. Even as he sat in that plane, the bitter feeling of this ordeal came over him. Though he was still afraid deep within, he tried to forget it.