This is a remarkable poem written by Baba when he was a young man. It was published by Professor Kasturi in 'Sathyam Shivam Sundaram' and with Prof. Kasturi's permission was slightly edited by Al Drucker, as presented here in Dec 1982:


The Dummy Doll Dance


Thai! Thai! Thai! Little Dummy!
Come And See The Silly Play Of This Dummy Doll.

Listen To His Sad Tale, His Wasted Life And All.

First He Rolls In The Wet Mush Of Mother's Womb, A Prison Warm And Dark;
Then He Comes With A Cry, He Weeps And Screams, Shrieking With A Voice So Stark,

"O Tragedy! O Tragedy! I Am Born Again!", His Voice Can Be Heard For Miles,
Yet All Around They Beam With Joy And Give Feasts Galore,
Caressing Him With Laughs And Smiles,
While He Sobs, Not Knowing What's In Store.

But Soon He Gaily Wallows In His Own Dirt Without A Sense Of Shame.

He Rises And Falls At Every Step, Acting Out His Childish Game.
He Runs And Skips With Gangs Of Friends,
Learns All The Tricks And Latest Trends.

He Grows So Tall, So Fast And Fair,
More Thick And Broad From Year To Year.

Next He Moves In Pairs; He Swoons And Croons, And Sings In Tunes
Unheard Before, With Eyes All Glazed, He Seems So Very Mild,
But Then He Downs The Cup And Acts Quite Strange, Becomes Uncouth And Wild.

It Is God Who Makes These Dolls In Pairs,
And Makes Dolls And Dollies In Row Upon Row,

But This Our Puppet Just Does Not Know.
When The String Is Pulled By Unseen Shakes,
This Puppet Laughs And Weeps And Sleeps And Wakes.

The Dummy Swears, "It Is I! It Is Me!"
Ah, But The Lord It Is Whom He Cannot See.

The Puppet's Acts Cause The String To Loosen Or Tighten,

But He'll Do Nothing At All His Burden To Lighten,
He Goes On Swaggering And Strutting, Until Finally He Falls,

And So To The End His Life Purpose Stalls. Until The Last He Is Lost In Fear,
And Bemoans His Fate With Many A Tear.

O Dummy Doll, What Good Is Your Gasp And Your Groan?
The Grim Reaper Has Come, You Must Pay Back Your Loan.

Suddenly With Just A Sneeze, This Boat Of Skin Will Break Its Seam,

And Plunge You Down In Middle Stream.

Dummy Continues To Take This Whole World As Stable,

But Silly Dummy, It Is Only A Fable!

In A Twinkle The Lord Calls Out The Final Act And Winds Up The Play,

And Puppet With His Pride And Pomp Becomes But A Heap Of Clay.

Exit Pride, Exit Pomp, Exit Dummy Show!
The Reaper Comes And Takes It In Tow.

Aha! There's The Bird! It Shakes Free Its Wing!
It Flies Out, Brrrr!, From Its Cage Of Skin.
Empty The Bag Tightens. Vacant It Straightens. O What A Fright!

Quickly, Quickly! Drag It Out Of Sight!

The Doll's Desires Are But Ash And Rust,
All That Pride And Pomp Now Just A Pile Of Dust.

Family And Friends March Off In Gloom,
But Only To The Door Of The Deadly Room.
Alas, The Puppet Doll Forgot His True Kin,
Forgot The Divine Name, Which Can Remove All His Sin.

Dummy, You Have Waded Long Through Plant And Ant,

Through Snake And Bird, Through Ape And Boy,

Go Seek And Find Without Delay, The Road That Leads To Lasting Joy.

Well, Bless Your Luck! Look! You Can See Sai Krishna Fair,
He Has Come To Lead You Up The Ancient Stair.
Be Dear To Him And You Will Know,

Your What, Your Where, Your Why, Your How.

A Million Words No Matter How Sweet,
Will Never Appease Your Soul's Hungry Cry.

Light The Lamp Of Love, Fall At His Feet,
Give Him Your Burdens, Offer Them All To Sai.

So Ends This Long Song Of Woe, This Ballad Of The Puppet Show,
It Leaves Dummy Both Sad And Wise... I Know.
But Come! Wake Up! Even Now...

Win The Grace Of Sathya Sai, The Lord,

And Gain At Last The Freedom, Which Your Soul Has Always Sought.


- Baba -

(N.K./A.D. - Dec '82)