On 14th June 1980 I was
lucky enough to be present
in a house visited by Baba
in New Delhi after His
Divine visit to Kashmir. I
was preparing to go on a
pilgrimage to the Nanda Devi
Sanctuary, one of the most
difficult treks in the
Himalayas. I took my high
altitude equipment with me,
including ropes, pitons
(rock clamps) and my trusted
ice-axe, an indispensable
tool for negotiating
precipitous icy terrain in
the high mountains.
Baba graciously asked after
my welfare and I said I
would like Him to bless my
adventure. My hostess
suggested I give Baba my
ice-axe to bless. He smiled,
took it and began to ask
some searching questions
about the composition of the
steel used in its making.
His students knew more about
this than I did. Suddenly He
produced Vibhuti from thin
air (without the usual
circular movements I had
seen in public) and
proceeded to rub it with
great intensity on one side,
the pick side, of the
ice-axe only. He didn't put
any Vibhuti on the other
parts. Then with an air of
finality He said, "You will
be successful," and handed
back the ice-axe.
I do not know what
constitutes a miracle but I
do know that a month later,
on 26th July, while climbing
into the Sanctuary, the pick
of the ice-axe saved my
life.
Traversing some tricky wet
slabs of rockcut croppings
above the Rishi Ganga gorge
at Rhamani I was aided by
two excellent Garhwali
porters. They were so
skillful and daring that
they disdained to use any
rope and would cross the wet
slabs sloping out over the
edge of the gorge in their
bare feet. They would go
ahead fixing rope, then sit
on their haunches and wait
for me with all my climbing
regalia to haul myself up.
We began up a narrow earth
gully which was particularly
slippery and treacherous.
There were no reliable
footholds anywhere and we
had to make them as we went.
I looked back into the
yawning chasm that led a
thousand feet straight down
into the huge gorge carved
out by the rushing river
below.
I kicked a toehold in the
damp earth and reaching up
whacked the pick of the
ice-axe into the earth
above. To my dismay the six
inch pick clanged against
rock after it had gone in
only three inches, not
enough to hold much weight.
At the same moment the earth
under my toehold crumbled
away and I felt myself
sinking gently with the
earth until I was dangling
above the gorge supported
only by the Vibhuti covered
pick. For the agonising
moment my full weight came
on the axe; my thoughts were
more of self disgust at my
incompetence than fear of
hurtling a thousand feet to
certain death.
Somehow that three inches of
steel didn't slice through
the soft earth but held me
long enough for the porters
to back down and grab me.
After a few more close
shaves we were successful
and got to our destination,
the Nanda Devi Sanctuary,
reaching that holy place on
Gurupurnima. There were
other hair raising incidents
on our return trip, but
thanks to Baba's Divine
Grace, we came through all
right and I am alive today
to narrate this story.
- Bill Aitken
(William McKay Aitken, also
known as Bill Aitken is a
Scottish born naturalised
Indian writer and traveller)
Source:
http://www.sssbpt.org/Pages/SaiSpiritualShowers/SSS25oct2007.htm