“A passenger, is all we are”, said Amma, as she listened with utmost attention, those dove eyes fixated on Amma. “The soul sheds the bodies, one after the other, like we change clothes and in each birth acquires a new one”, Amma continued. Her daily bedtime story always followed with an equally long ‘moral of the story’ and she usually would be too sleepy to pay any attention. But today was different. Whatever Amma was saying didn’t really make any sense to her but it was nevertheless intriguing. May be she had lost her marbles, age can do that to you.
Years later, when they carried Amma’s body to the cremation ground chanting ‘Ram naam satya hai (the name of Ram is the truth)‘, it all made sense.