my 1st photograph..

"Here is a camera. If you turn the camera towards Swami and turn on the switch, you see the image of Swami. In the same way, use the mind. The mind is the "lens" of concentration. Turn it toward Brahman and activate the switch of intellect, and you will immediately have a picture of Brahman. Our body is a camera, the mind is the lens, our feelings are the picture, intellect is the switch, and our vision is divine.  Once you turn your vision godward, god will come to you,"   Satya Sai Baba.

After the Sankalpa Blessing, I journeyed home, heart full, to seek a long-term visa so I could keep writing. Those daily writings became my compass, guiding me back to the details that mattered. The two-year extendable visa arrived with surprising ease—a “spiritual visa,” granted partly because of a book that had been compiled by the Toronto Sai Centre, woven with my own essay and the voices of Canadian devotees. Satya Sai Baba blessed that book on His 75th birthday, a moment that felt like a benediction. I also included proof of my anti-poverty company, born from a dream of Sai Baba of Shirdi healing my legs with acupuncture. From October 2002 to 2012, I moved between India and Canada, maintaining my qualifications and finding ways to import and export goods, all to sustain a life that was just enough to keep me afloat.

That 1st two years, I had made only acquaintances during the intense meditations and twice-daily darshans, meditating up to 6 hours a day. Noone knew about my visa's origins, and I kept it discreet, mentioning it only when needed for extensions, as He was adamant that I stay on past the two years. Amid the many insights Satya Sai Baba gifted, no words can describe the blissful days of both inner and outer darshans, so immersed in His Ananda, and the exponential healing I experienced during those first two years in Prashanti Nilayam.

As my original visa neared its end, I found myself at a small eatery just outside the Gopuram gate, sharing a balcony table with a stranger. We watched the world pass by, exchanging small talk as we waited for our meal. Suddenly, the stranger announced, “I’m leaving today,” and, without warning, pressed an old digital camera into my hand. We had never spoken of photography; the gift arrived like a bolt from the blue. “Take it; I have no use,” he said, his gesture as unexpected as it was generous. Mere moments later, Satya Sai Baba’s car appeared at the Gopuram gate.

I knew everyone would judge the photograph's quality, but the photograph itself is the message, not its perfection. Remembrance and guidance that arise spontaneously, and receiving a symbol of artistic expression I had released, are more important than perfection, transcending others' perceptions of value. His hands together in the sign of “meeting” or “coming together” was a miracle to me, though some saw it as a delusion.

This was my first story woven from another’s heartfelt gift, its source unspoken yet unmistakably clear to me. In that instant, I felt His will and direction shine through a stranger whose name I never learned. The gift mirrored my inner visions and dreams, transforming the ordinary into a vortex of grace—the first photograph, taken with the simplest camera. As I captured the avatar’s full-body image, my heart pulsed with pure prema shakti. I did not even lift the camera to my eyes; the moment simply unfolded. There was no need to debate who gave or received; it was a divine Leela, its depth known only to me. To share even a glimpse of that grace, I must recount the events that led to that first photograph and the journey that brought me to that sacred reflection.

Years ago, I had let go of photography as an art form, never imagining I would one day photograph Him myself. Yet here I was, camera in hand—a gift from a stranger, a sign from Him—no words needed to explain the joy and spontaneity of that exchange. Actions and symbols spoke directly to my soul, urging me to write the book I could not express in words alone and to extend my stay. As He passed by during darshan, the camera in my bag felt like a gentle nudge, a silent encouragement to remain.

My life shifted the day He appeared to me in the forest, and now, years later, that encounter was blossoming into new forms of creative expression. Receiving a photograph of Him while we were both outside the ashram felt like a miracle, perfectly timed and in harmony with the rules of that sacred space. I could never have foreseen this moment until the camera landed in my hands, just as the Ganesha gate opened and SSB came into view from my balcony seat. He was introducing a meditative freedom, a release from limiting beliefs and outside control. I will share more about these experiences later to give context. Many claim to channel, yet overlook the subtle teachings He offers, chasing fleeting psychic thrills instead of the deep spiritual joy that arises from within. I have witnessed rare moments of shakti light healing, wordless and soundless, with a clear pranamic need to balance its flow—like a river streaming down a mountain, molecules merging as they return to their source within. That is the closest I can come to describing it.

Through His dreams, Satya Sai Baba, Sai Baba of Shirdi, and Babaji encouraged me to look beyond surface interpretations and reflect on experiences that might distract from true compassion for those in need. His grace revealed itself in creative ways, through the support of those who saw His Leela as the source, not my own intention. While some dismissed the photograph as poor quality, to me it was a vibrant work of energetic healing, more powerful than even Kirlian photography. It carried symbols that spoke to my soul, merging my intuition with His consciousness in a dance of remembrance—so different from the gaslighting of claimed channeling, using words rather than the wordless soundless bliss.  

Since my near-death experience with Christ, I had known vibrational empathy, but now SSB offered me a new way to remember the healing I had received: through photographs that resonated with the same formless energy, yet reflected tenderness and creativity from my own journey. These images turned pain into bliss, and then into laughter I had never known. He revealed a tangible path of healing that matched the interests I had surrendered to Him long ago—a miracle in itself. I was astonished when others who ventured to Puttaparthy  for days or weeks and then leave, also found healing through this Leela, even as most residents remained unaware. Photography was a new medium, and whether the images touched others was in His hands. I was deeply grateful whenever they did.