Sradha Suman

At the Feet of Baba

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Sometimes, the most ordinary days turn extraordinary when grace steps in. A simple phone call led me to the sacred town of Shirdi, where I and my group had the honour of performing at Sai Baba’s holy shrine alongside dancers from Malaysia, and Canada. What followed was not just a performance, but a journey of devotion, connection, and divine blessings that will stay with me forever.

It felt like an ordinary day, the kind that slips quietly between classes, chores, and phone calls, when the universe suddenly shifted. A call from Shangita lit up my screen, and in a calm, almost casual voice she asked, “Would you like to perform at the holy shrine of Baba, Sai Baba at Shirdi?” For a moment, everything around me fell silent. Performing at Shirdi was something I had never even dared to dream of, and yet here it was, arriving at my doorstep with such grace that it could only be Baba’s will. When she added that it would be a collaborative program with our group Bansi Bilash from Bangalore, Kalpana Dance Theatre from Malaysia and her sister’s institute Sruti Laya Academy of Fine Arts from Canada, my heart overflowed. A full two-hour evening performance at Baba’s feet – how could anyone deserve such fortune?

As I began planning the repertoire, another thread of grace quietly wove itself into the story. A friend with whom I rarely communicate called to say they were preparing for Sai Baba’s Maha Samadhi sometime in October and asked if I could choreograph for a bhajan sung by Dr. Chandra Bhanu Satpathy. Looking back to 2013, when Dr. Chandra Bhanu Satpathy ji visited Plano, Texas, my daughter Shyama, my student Shambhavi and I had the privilege of performing to one of his soulful compositions in his presence. Those memories resurfaced, inspiring me to begin work on yet another one of his songs. More than happy, I created the choreography and sent it to her, but a question lingered gently in my mind: why me, and why now? A small inner voice whispered that perhaps Baba wanted this same bhajan to be danced at Shirdi. Trusting that intuition, I shared the choreography with the Bharatanatyam dancers from Malaysia and Canada, and with my own students in Bangalore. Each of us practised in our own spaces, in different countries and cities, breathing life into the same Sai bhajan, waiting for the day we would finally come together in His presence.

That day was fixed for the 27th of November, a Thursday evening. We arrived in Shirdi the previous day, fourteen of us travelling, carrying costumes, bells, flowers, and an ocean of quiet excitement. Shangita had told me that Mr. Giri would be taking care of everything, and that I could turn to him if I needed anything. As it turned out, there was hardly anything I needed to ask for at all. Two cars came to receive us at the airport and took us straight to a small, beautiful hotel that had already been arranged for us. We barely had time to freshen up before Mr. Giri gently informed us that it was time for darshan. Those words alone sent a shiver through me. We followed him like children, hearts brimming, not quite believing where we were being led.

He first took us through the Mukha darshan gate, where he showed us the stage – a huge platform with Baba’s portrait watching over it – the very place where we would be dancing the next day. To stand there, imagining the audience, and above all Baba’s presence, was overwhelming. From there, he led us for Mukha darshan and then onwards, like a spiritual map unfolding, we had darshan of Hanuman, visited the 'Chavadi', walked through 'Dwarkamai', where the eternal flame still burns, gifting us sacred Vibhuti. He guided us through the 'Shani Gate' and narrated stories – of the tiger, the horse, and Baba’s boundless compassion – as if we were being given a personal tour of a living, breathing temple of grace.  We then went to have darshan at the Samadhi Mandir and bowed at Gurusthan. We stood under the sacred Neem tree, absorbing its quiet strength, and he told us that if we were lucky, we might be blessed with the darshan of the Palki the day after our performance. By the time all the darshans were done, our bodies were tired but our hearts were utterly full. We ended the evening with a simple, satisfying meal at a nearby vegetarian restaurant and returned to the hotel, wrapped in the soft stillness of Shirdi’s night.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, the reality of our purpose in Shirdi gently settled in: it was time for rehearsal. Until then, all three schools had practised separately, each in our own corner of the world, connected only through video and faith. Now, in the garage of the hotel in this serene town – so unlike the restless noise of Bangalore – we finally came together. There was an immediate sense of belonging, as if we had always been meant to meet here. We rehearsed the Sai bhajan that all three schools were performing, aligning formations, eye-lines, and energies, until the choreography breathed as one body. After rehearsal, another blessing awaited us. A friend of Shangita had arranged special passes for us to have Prasad at the Prasadalaya. The image of Baba’s statue, cooking in a pot outside, stays etched in my memory – such tenderness, such humility. We ran there, all fourteen of us, and shared a simple, divine lunch. That meal was not just food; it was prasad in the truest sense, calming, grounding, and silently preparing us for the evening ahead.

There was barely any time to rest. After what felt like a blink of a short nap – in truth, more of a quick lie-down than real sleep – it was already time to get ready. We adorned ourselves in our costumes and jewellery, put on our stage makeup, and headed to the performance area to test the music.

Being a Thursday, none of us had anticipated the sheer size of the crowd that would gather. Devotees who had completed their darshan of Baba lingered near the stage, filling up the space until it felt like a sea of faces, all turned towards us. The atmosphere was electric, not noisy, but charged with devotion. Amongst the crowd, we even met people who would later become dear to us, coming up after the show to share their love and blessings. On stage, the Bharatanatyam dancers from Malaysia, the Odissi dancers from Bangalore, and the Bharatanatyam dancers from Canada flowed one after the other, weaving together a two-hour performance of devotion through movement.

The pinnacle of the evening came when all three schools joined together on stage to perform the Sai bhajan that had brought this entire journey full circle – sung by none other than Dr. Chandra Bhanu Shatapathy. This was the very same song my friend had sent me months earlier, the one I had first choreographed for Baba’s Maha Samadhi Divas. To dance to it now, at Shirdi, with dancers from three countries moving as one, felt nothing short of miraculous. As the music rose and fell, there were moments when time seemed to dissolve – only Baba, the bhajan, and our collective heartbeat remained. The audience, too, appeared to be in a state of quiet ecstasy, almost as if Baba himself were holding the space. After the performance, as if the evening hadn’t already been overflowing with blessings, Mr. Giri guided us through a special path to have darshan in full costume. In that sacred silence, we went straight to Baba’s Samadhi, bowed at his feet, and once again passed through Gurusthan and the Neem tree. Standing there in our dance attire, still warm from the stage lights, with sweat, vibhuti, and tears mingling, it felt like Baba had embraced us completely.

The next phase of this divine journey unfolded in the stillness of early morning. We had booked tickets for Kakad Aarti and were told we would need to be there by 2:30 a.m. But again, grace intervened. Through another of Shangita’s friends, PRO entry was miraculously arranged for all fourteen of us. The effort it must have taken to secure those passes for such a large group did not go unnoticed in our hearts. We arrived instead a little later, around 4 a.m., and when our names were called, we were led almost directly to Baba’s Samadhi. To stand so close, near his Charana Paduka, and witness Kakad Aarti – to watch as Baba was bathed, dressed, adorned and made ready for the day – from such intimate proximity was a gift beyond words. In that cool, pre-dawn hour, as the aarti lamps danced and chants filled the air, all the noise inside quietened. It felt as if Baba himself had drawn us there, one by one, arranging every detail so that we could experience this moment.

The rest of that day passed in a gentle rush. After a quick breakfast, we made our way to the Sri Charana Paduka Mandir, offering our pranams to Baba’s sacred footprints. From there, we visited the Kalpavriksha tree, a place steeped in silent mahima, where wishes and prayers merge with surrender. Standing beneath its branches, it was easy to feel that everything we had experienced so far was indeed a gift granted by divine grace – not something planned or earned, but lovingly given. We were then taken to a temple where Rahu, Ketu and Shani Dev are worshipped alongside Lord Hanuman, and we bowed there too, praying for protection, clarity, and the removal of obstacles. As if the journey needed a final powerful note, we travelled to Shani Shingnapur, to the famous Shani Dev temple. There, under the open sky, we offered oil and our heartfelt prayers, asking for every block in our path – artistic, spiritual, personal – to be dissolved. There was a raw simplicity to that darshan, the kind that reaches straight into the core.

Soon after, it was time to return to the airport and head back to Bangalore. Even there, the blessings followed us. As we waited for our flight, people came up to my young dancers, recognising them from the previous night’s performance. Strangers stopped to say how brilliant the show had been, how moved they felt, and how it had inspired them to return to their own art forms with renewed dedication. Some even sent us videos and photographs they had taken on their phones, capturing moments we were too immersed to see from the stage. To hear that the performance had touched hearts and stirred souls was perhaps the most beautiful prasad of all.

Looking back, it feels as though this entire journey was not something we organised, but something Baba gently orchestrated for us. From the first unexpected phone call, to the choreography that found its way from Samadhi Diwas to Shirdi, from the smooth arrangements at the hotel and temple, to the special passes, the darshans, the aartis, and the countless unseen efforts of people like Mr. Giri and Shangita – every step felt guided. It was as if Sai Baba picked us up from our ordinary lives, carried us to his home, allowed us to dance at his feet, and then lovingly placed us back, forever changed. This Shirdi trip, this divine performance, is not just a memory; it is etched into our hearts as a living blessing. For the rest of our lives, we will carry it within us – a soft, luminous reminder that when grace decides to move, it does so through people, through art, and through the most unexpected invitations. Forever grateful to every soul who made this possible – this was, and will always remain, a truly divine journey.

Picture Courtesy: Sampat Naik