I am a Registered Medical
Practitioner, engaged since years in my profession at Uravakonda,
Anantapur District. Andhra Pradesh. As a result of some unforeseen
circumstances and their effect on my mental condition, I got involved in
a vicious habit, namely, taking injections of morphia. It began with
two injections per day. Within eight days, more correctly, on and from
the 20th of June 1968, I fell into the habit of taking four injections
per day. In another fortnight, I needed eight, and within a month after
that, I was ' forced to give myself 16 injections of morphia. In about a
month more, the quantity the body clamoured for increased to 20
injections. This continued for only three months more, for, later, I had
to take thirty injections every day. I could not for the life of me
discover any method by which I could reduce the intake.
My income from medical practice was about 800
to 1000 rupees per month. All that income proved insufficient for the
morphia I had to give myself. I had to sell off five acres of my lands
for 13,000 rupees; this amount plus the money I got from the patients
sufficed only for 16 months for me. I sold another 3 acres for 10,000
rupees that pulled me through another 16 months. I had no money
remaining with me at the end of that period. Then I sold the building
sites I had in the town for 6,000 rupees and spent it on the morphia
during the next eight months. The income from the remaining lands I
clung to and every pie of my earnings were swallowed by this vicious
habit that had `possessed' me.
I have
ten children—6 girls and 4 boys. My wife had died. I had never paid any
thought during all these years on how the poor things were managing to
exist. Of course, they suffered much for want of food and clothing. They
went through manifold miseries. They used to wait outside my room and
when they saw some patient giving me any little money, they would cry
piteously for the same, `Father! Give it to us. We shall purchase some
grain with it, some snacks.” I used to drive them away with foul
interjections. I never worried over what they ate or how they managed.
Some patients who came to me used to pay them now and then part of the
fees they had to give me and with this meagre source they kept flesh and
bone together. Nine years passed thus. I was driven to such despair
that I started tackling the problem, how to get rid of this vice. For, I
could not even reduce the intake, by the slightest. When I had on some
days, to
take less than on previous days. I suffered extreme agony. Pain all
over the body, yawning, sweating, fear, effusion of saliva, stuttering
cramps—these gave me great distress. How could I then stop the
injections altogether? How could I escape from the coils of this drug?
On account of the high cost of this habit, my family had been ruined. My
medical practice declined and dried up. My physical, health also got
deteriorated from day to day. Of course, I repented in my heart of
hearts for this fault, but, what could I do? I found it impossible to
escape.
One of my friends who had fallen victim to
morphia had gone to Madras and returned after a cranial operation by
which they said his habit could be got rid of. Another doctor friend too
had gone to Madras and stayed there for four months; after undergoing
treatment there, he had given up the morphia habit. But the first friend
had spent Rs. 3500 and the second friend had to spend Rs. 5000. I too
desired to go, but, I had no money at all. Yet, I had to continue the
injections. I begged, borrowed, and visited hospitals and somehow
managed to pull through, with the minimum quota of 30 to 35. Nine years
passed by. I had run through Rs. 40,000, during that period. I could not
free myself from this habit or even reduce the intake. I realised that
one can free himself from the jaws of a crocodile, sooner than from the
jaws of morphia.
Meanwhile,
a Bhajan Samaja had started working in our town, by the devotees of
Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba; they held their bhajans at the
Subrahmanyeswara Temple, near my house. My friend, Dr N. Anjaneyulu, was
its organiser. One day, a Thursday, (they did bhajan there every
Thursday) I went into that temple and sat in the far distant corner,
listening to the bhajan songs. During the bhajan, a desire arose in my
mind. That is to say, "Baba! You were my classmate, here, in the High
School, years ago. You must be remembering me. You must be knowing the
depths to which this habit has dragged me. There are some who doubt You
and many who adore you as God. I am not involving myself in that
controversy now. I want to find from my own experience, the Truth. Well.
If You can bless me with the mental courage and strength to get out of
this vicious morphia habit, I shall believe that You are God." With this
vow taken with a full h
eart, I steadied myself. Within a few seconds, the bhajan ended. They
distributed Vibhuti Prasad to every one. Holding the packets in my palm
as a precious gift, and resolving to rely upon Baba for the strength to
free myself, I returned home. I decided that, whatever might happen,
however hard the conditions, I would not take a single injection, of
morphia, for full three days. If on the fourth day I am free from the
tentacles of morphia, I shall adore Baba just as those people are doing,
at the Subrahmanyeswara Temple, I told myself. The first day, I did not
take any injection, no, not even one. I had no calls of nature, that
day. I had profuse sweating, cramps in muscles, burning sensation all
over the body, wild imaginings, streams of tears, cough; these gave me a
terrible time. But, I swallowed small quantities of the Vibhuti and
carried on, in spite of everything.
The
second day was worse. The urine and faeces were full of blood; frightful
thoughts of suicide haunted me. The third day dawned. I had determined
and sworn that day too I would not take morphia. I felt that I may not
survive the third day. When night came on, I began shouting and wailing
aloud, in some kind of inexplicable pain. I hit the floor with my feet; I
hit my head against the pillar; I blabbered wildly and loudly. The
children wept and wailed, awakening the neighbours and the houses in the
locality. Some friends of mine came in and seeing my condition, they
too shed tears in sympathy with the children. A doctor friend came at
about 3 a.m., and, realising that my pitiable condition was due to my
not taking the morphia, he brought four injections with him. He told me,
`I have brought these. Take the injections." But, I replied, "Doctor!
The promise I have given to Swami will lapse tomorrow. Keep the four
safe, until
morning." The time was then 3 45 a.m. My children were sitting all
around me. I told my little daughter, Hafiza Begum, "Go and get me the
Vibhuti of Swami I have kept in that shelf over there.” She brought it
and gave me. I took a pinch and placed it on my tongue and drank some
water to wash it down.
In about
ten minutes, I fell asleep! During sleep, I felt as if I was on a
pilgrimage! I slept nicely, until 11 a.m., the next day, the fourth day.
Exactly as promised, the doctor friend hearing that I had awakened from
sleep, came at about 12 noon, with the four morphia injections. When he
came, I was reclining in my easy chair, calm and collected, with no
sign of any after effect—no cough, no sneeze, no haw or hum. The doctor
asked me, softly, "Dear friend! How do you feel?" I replied, equally
softly, "By Swami's Grace, my mind is clear and calm.” Then he said, "in
that case, I believe you have no need of this morphia.” I said, in a
firm tone, "No. There is no need.” The doctor was overjoyed. "Ah! What
happy news you have given us! How pleasant to the ears! At last, after
all these years, Swami has showered His Grace on you!” the doctor said
and going out into a fruit shop
, he brought two apples and placing them in my hands, he left, with the
morphia he had brought for me! Since that day, three months back, I
have never had the slightest inclination towards morphia. My health has
improved a great deal, and is getting better and better every day. My
medical practice has also picked up fast. My children are happy.
The
Wednesday after my recovery from the hold of the crocodile, morphia, I
joined the Nagarsankirtan group that passed before my house and reaching
the Subrahmanyeswara Temple with them, I related to all the devotees of
Bhagawan, the story of my vow and its fulfillment. My friends,
relatives, and well wishers were all very happy when they came to know
of Baba's Grace. I have now no doubt that the Divine Will of Swami can
cure every one suffering from such vicious habits, provided they
surrender to him. For myself, I am convinced that He is Divine and that
His Grace alone has saved me and can save me.
