Just Another Day in Tiruvannamalai: Called to Serve, Blessed to Film

I woke up feeling like I should go and see Swami today and it still felt right so I decided I would.

I wanted to do an hour of meditation, but I heard meowing. Hungry cats. I stopped meditating and went to put out some curd for the kitten and food for the mother cat. Sitting for meditation isn’t always more important than the call to service. There’s a time and place for everything.

I packed my small film gear just in case I could capture something useful for my first documentary on Swami.

Breakfast was Pongal at Ananda Ramana Restaurant. The Sambol was super hot, freshly made and the Pongal itself was filling.

I needed to fill up petrol but had no cash, so I stopped at the ATM near the chai shop. A lady I’d bought tea and biscuits for before asked me again for tea. I told her honestly I had zero money on me. She pointed to her mouth and held her hands out, but I apologised. She didn’t understand, she thought I just didn’t want to give.

Siva will look after her. He always does.

I filled up petrol and rode out to Swami’s about an hour on the scooter.

On the way, blogs started pouring into me, moments from my life waiting to be written.

I pulled over to jot down a few titles and short notes so I could expand them later.

Further along, I stopped to get some oranges as an offering. As I turned onto the ashram road, I saw a puppy wandering alone.

“Puppy!” I called out.

He ran over, young enough to still be fearless. Just a happy little soul.

I gave him water and some food. When he finished, I reached to pat him on the head and he snapped, not in fear, just preoccupied with food. I laughed. Said goodbye.

Five minutes later I arrived at the ashram. Two baby goats were out the front. I got off the scooter and said hello, filming a bit for my family. They bounded away, so cute when they do that.

One of the kitchen staff was sweeping out front.

“Shiva Shakti, how are you?” I said.

She laughed. She knew what was coming.

“What’s my name?” I asked, laughing.

Some other staff joined in, all laughing in Tamil. I walked into the Shiva temple.

One of the attendants came over and did the Aarti.

I prayed to Lord Shiva: Om Namah Shivaya. That’s enough.

I walked around the Lingam and waited outside with my oranges.

The flies and mosquitoes were intense, so I decided to walk around.

I ran into Shiva Shakti again, this time with Sandra.

“Hi Sandra,” I said.

They were both already laughing.

“What’s my name?” I asked again. More laughter.

“No one remembers me,” I joked, raising my hands in surrender, walking off.

I felt drawn back to the Shiva temple. I sat near the attendant who does the regular Aartis. We spoke. I asked him about the WhatsApp group I’d heard of, he said he’d add me.

“Where are you from?”

“Australia.”

“...Austria?”

“No, Australia.”

“...Austria?”

“Shane Warne! Brett Lee!”

He laughed. “Yes, yes!”

That’s how I explain where I’m from when no one understands, cricket always works.

Through Google Translate, I told him I was doing a documentary on Swami with his blessing. I asked if I could speak to him to get some verified info about Swami’s life. He said no problem but I’d need Swami’s permission directly.

I explained Swami doesn’t understand me when I speak, and he laughed.

“Show him this Google Translate message. He’ll understand.”

I went to the Sri Siddhar meditation hall. Some people were ahead of me. Eventually, I was called over.

“Hello, Swami,” I said.

“God bless you,” he said with a small smile.

I showed him the message asking if I could speak with Selvam to gather facts for the documentary. Swami nodded. “Okay.”

I relayed this to Selvam and suddenly thought — maybe I could film him speaking in Tamil and add subtitles later. It would add authenticity. He said he’d still need to get permission from Swami. That was fine.

I sat again in the hall, camera by my side. Two Indian guys came in. One of them was filming, phone out. He got told off straight away. Swami didn’t seem happy. Neither did the staff. The guy was asked to leave.

A staff member came over to me. “He didn’t have permission to film. But you do. Film as you wish.”

I laughed.

It was a message: Take this blessing seriously.

And I am.

This isn’t just a documentary. It’s a transmission. A blessing. An invitation into another world.

Later, an older man arrived. Emotional. Loud. Animated. I took out my camera. He approached Swami and dropped to his knees distressed. I filmed but wasn’t sure if I should. He wandered away. I asked what had happened.

The attendant told me: he’d been lied to, lost everything, no money, no food. He was begging for help.

Swami blessed him.

Told him food would come. Money would come. Do japa. Don’t worry.

He was crying. And I felt it too.

Swami’s compassion is silent but immense. Always the same face. A man rooted in truth, fire, and divine grace.

Afterward, I ate in the ashram kitchen. The women there always laugh and joke with me now. In the beginning, five months ago, there was confusion. Language barriers. But now it’s light. Easy.

I filmed a bit more of Swami sitting. I’d been there for three hours. It felt enough.

Swami saw me getting ready to leave.

“You’re going?” he asked.

“Yes, Swami.”

He disappeared for a moment then returned with an orange.

A blessing.

“Thank you, Swami,” I said.

“Bye,” he smiled.

On the scooter ride back to Tiru, I saw a puppy on the side of the road. 38 degrees. Brutal heat. I pulled over and fed him and gave him water.

Locals came over. Took a photo. A man appeared with another puppy. Then another. Now three.

“These are my puppies,” he said.

I gave them all food and water. When they were done, I gave the man and his family the rest of the food and the cup. They looked stunned.

As I walked away, I slipped and fell. The woman gasped.

“I’m okay!” I laughed.

Back on the scooter.

On the ride home, I felt it, an intuitive nudge. Buy dog food and collars for those puppies.

Outside the grocery store, I saw an elderly lady I’d helped before. I asked if she needed anything but couldn’t understand her. The shopkeeper came out.

“She wants Sprite,” he said.

I laughed. “Okay. Food?”

“Sambal rice,” he said.

“Thali?”

“No, too much.”

So I got her sambal rice takeaway and gave it to her.

The staff at the shop just laughed, I’m always buying the most random combinations of things. I laughed with them. Bought a 2.8kg bag of dog food and three collars for tomorrow.

I saw my friend L at the chai shop. We chatted. She apologised for not replying on WhatsApp. No big deal.

She was shocked Swami had said yes to the documentary.

“He usually says no,” she said. “He told a woman once, only write a book about me when I’m dead.”

Then she said she knew the perfect translator.

Knows Swami well.

Great English.

Would probably refuse payment.

Would keep himself out of it.

Perfect.

I thanked her. We chatted. Then I headed home.

Sun-kissed. Exhausted. Content.

I wrote some blog ideas.

Chatted with a mate in Melbourne.

Watched the Adelaide v Brisbane AFL game.

Dinner at 6 at Ananda Ramana.

Just another day in Tiruvannamalai.