“Not Cancer, But Poverty Will Kill Me”
(A True Incident from My Diary)
In 2006, I was on a tour of Mumbai. Throughout the day, many devotees came to meet me with their families. By 7:30 PM, I was completely exhausted from the long day of interactions. Just then, my attendant entered the room.
“Guruji, there’s a woman in her mid-fifties pleading to meet you. I told her you were tired, but she’s insisting. Should I let her in?” he asked.
Despite my fatigue, I nodded. I don’t like turning away anyone who comes to meet me with hope in their heart.
The woman entered the room. Though she said she was fifty, her frail frame and weary eyes made her look seventy. Her body was thin, her eyes sunken, and the hardship of poverty was etched deeply on her face. She greeted me and sat down.
She began softly, “Guruji, I live alone in a rented one-room kitchen house in Dahisar. My husband passed away two years ago, and we never had children. I earn a living by making and selling khakhras and papads. That’s how I manage to pay rent and afford two meals a day. But six months ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I don’t even have enough money for treatment at a public hospital. I’m not here to ask for money. I only seek your blessings—that I may be able to continue my work and live with dignity until my last breath. And when death comes, may it come gently in my sleep.”
Her words left me momentarily speechless. Then I said gently, “Sister, please get your treatment. I’ll help you financially.”
But she refused with quiet strength. “No, Guruji. I’ve made up my mind. If I am destined to live, cancer won’t kill me. And if I am destined to die, even a healthy body won’t save me. I don’t want your money. I only ask for your blessings—that I may continue to work with strength and self-respect, earning my food and paying rent through my own efforts. I have never begged or asked for help from anyone. I may die of cancer, but I never want to die of hunger or poverty.”
I raised my hand and blessed her with a solemn “Aathastu” (So be it). She bowed and left.
In 2007, when I visited Mumbai again, a radiant woman came to see me around 11 AM. I didn’t recognize her at first. Her thin body had filled out, her eyes sparkled, and her face glowed with health. She was accompanied by a man.
“Guruji,” she said, smiling, “I got married. This is my husband, Vishnubhai. He was a widower. After your blessings that day, my business started doing well. He came to buy khakhras and papads from me once, and after a couple of meetings, he proposed. I told him I had cancer, but he said, ‘Whatever life you have, let’s live it together.’ And so we got married. It’s been a year and a half now, and I’ve been living a completely renewed life. Looking at me now, no one would believe that doctors diagnosed me with cancer two and a half years ago. I’ve never gone for a check-up since then. With God’s grace and your blessings, I’ve lived a healthy life. Poverty has left my life, and it feels as though the illness has either disappeared or gone dormant. I consider this new life a divine prasad from your blessings.”
She touched my feet as she spoke. I replied with warmth, “No sister, this is not my doing. These are the blessings of God and nature. It is your willpower and determination that even nature had to bow to. Just as Savitri brought back her husband’s soul from Yamraj, I can see that the divine feminine power within you awakened and defied fate itself. God’s play is mysterious. No one knows when or how He will perform miracles—but you became the reason for this miracle in your life. May God continue to bless you both.”
Today, Lataben and Vishnubhai live happily in their own home