Dr. Venkatarangam, the eye specialist, had come from Madras. As Chinnaswamy (Sri Maharshi’s brother and the then Sarvadhikari, Sri Niranjanananda Swamy) remembered that Bhagavan’s spectacles needed new lenses, he requested that they be brought from the Hall and given to the doctor. The doctor tested these lenses and compared them with his own; he thought his own spectacles would suit Bhagavan’s eyes, so he sent them through me to Bhagavan, who put these spectacles on and found they suited His eyes admirably. The doctor’s lenses were both for distance and for reading, while Sri Bhagavan’s were for reading only; and the latter was in fact what Bhagavan said He wanted.
I left Bhagavan’s spectacles with him and returned with the doctor’s, reporting that they suited Bhagavan well. Thereupon Chinnaswamy got the doctor to consent to leave his own spectacles and take Bhagavan’s instead. I was sent again to Bhagavan to leave the doctor’s glasses with Him and bring His to the doctor.
Now Bhagavan was not agreeable to this proposal. But, remembering how anxious Chinnaswamy was to have Bhagavan’s glasses replaced immediately, I in an unwary moment pressed upon Him to accept the doctor’s and give His own to be taken by the doctor. I cannot now say how hot-headed I was to press this upon Bhagavan, while knowing full well that He would not agree. Bhagavan looked at me and said: “Hoom, why do you press on me what I do not want? I do not want glasses for distance, I want them only for reading.” So I came back with the doctor’s glasses and reported the refusal to Chinnaswamy.
This happened on the day before a Jayanti; I was participating in birthday activities and busily engaged in ever so many affairs. But from the moment I returned from Bhagavan, a burning fire took hold of me, the discomfort of which cannot be described. Yet I was going on with my work while the fire kept burning me.
The Jayanti day passed. The next morning the fire increased; it burned and burned and burned, till I could stand it no longer. Having taken delivery of certain articles intended for the celebrations, I was returning from the railway station. I handed over the articles to the stores clerk and ran into the Hall like a madman in a frenzy.
The Hall was full of devotees and Bhagavan reposed in His ceaseless Blissfulness. I fell prostrate and cried, “Oh, Bhagavan, forgive me! I erred. I should not have pressed those glasses on you and earned that ‘Hoomkar’. It burns me, burns me! I can bear it no longer. I tried to bear it for three days, night and day, but I can bear no more. Not that you intended to punish me; my own action brought it on me. If a pot falls on a rock and breaks, it is not the fault of the rock that the pot is broken. If an audacious man does ill to the Wise, it is not the Wise who sends punishment, it is the man himself who earns it. So, Bhagavan, pray look at me, and let this burning heat go!”
Thus I cried before Bhagavan, to the astonishment of Himself and of those around. Bhagavan looked at me and said, “What is all this? I was never in the least offended. Don’t worry. Sit down and it will be all right.” So I sat, a penitent creature, and wept like a child. In less than ten minutes I became normal. The burning heat vanished miraculously.
Good devotees may know that however well- intentioned they may be, they should not clash with the wish of Mahatmas and get hurt.