In plain words
At that moment Seshama Raju was ruling lines with a ruler. He did love Me, but he was angry with Me because his wife had had to carry the water those three days. As soon as I came in, he struck My hand hard with the ruler. My hand swelled up. I bound it with an old piece of cloth. On the very next day after this happened, a son of Seshama Raju died. Then Gṛham Abbāyi came to Kamalapuram. He saw the bandage tied on My hand and asked, “What is this, son?” I did not say that Seshama Raju had hit Me. “A boil has come up,” I said. I have never had the habit of carrying complaints against anyone or of telling untruths. Satyam lived by the truth.
In the house next door lived a Komati woman. That evening she called Gṛham Abbāyi. ‘Why, Venkamaraju! You have no want of food or clothing! Why are you putting your boy through such hardship? Every day he must carry a kāvaḍi on his shoulders and fetch water. You are making him suffer a great deal,’ she said. After dark Gṛham Abbāyi said, “I must go outside.” He was new, after all; he did not know where to go. I took a small lantern and water in a vessel, and walked in front. After we had gone some way he said, “Satyam, tell me what that bandage on your hand is.” “A boil has come up,” I said. “There is no boil, nothing of the kind. I know that it is a blow your elder brother struck,” he said. However much I said, “No, no,” he would not listen. He held both My hands and shed streams of tears. The words he spoke that day still sound in My ears: “Satyam! While there is breath, one can sell salt and eat. Why must you be put through so many hardships? Can I not support you? Can I not feed you? Set out from here at once and come away with me,” he said. “Now, when they have lost a child and are grieving so, it would not be right for Me to leave them and come. If I go away, there is no one at all to do the work in the house. You go. I will come later,” I said, and talked him round. Hearing My answer, he too shed tears.