One year ago, on August 19th, 2005, sadness fell across Amritapuri as news spread of the tragic accident that claimed the life of 11-year old Josha who was headed to the airport with his mother Mona to return to Holland. I had met Josha and Mona while working at the Seva desk. In my daily search for sevites to help with Ashram activities, I would often find the pair sitting opposite each other in the Western Canteen. I could always count on them to chop veggies or roll pizza dough (Josha’s favorite seva).

At the Ashram, Josha had befriended Mangalam and Nealu who were visiting from the US. The three of them would spend hours together, often gathering in their flats playing games, chanting, and just hanging out. The morning after the accident, Nealu and Mangalam were sitting with me at the Seva desk, eating their breakfast. Soon, their mom Manasvini came over, and choking back tears, struggled to break the news to them. I listened while she explained how their best friend had died. “Will we ever see him again?” “Did he go to Heaven?” the boys asked. I sat there silently, holding back my own tears, watching the exchange, thinking how I might explain the same thing if I had children of my own.

After spending the night at AIMS (Amma’s Superspeciality Hospital in Cochi) being treated for her own injuries, Mona returned to Amritapuri and was comforted not only by dozens of Ashramites who had befriended the two during their stay, but by Amma as well. Nealu and Mangalam, filled with many questions of their own, also found comfort by being in Amma’s presence.

With permission from authorities in both Holland and India, Mona was able to bring Josha’s body to the Ashram to be cremated. In a somber ceremony, Amma opened the casket and placed a kiss on Josha’s forehead. She then threw flower petals on the casket while ashramites chanted the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad Gita. Afterwards, the body was brought to the ocean where a pyre was constructed. On a later trip to northern India, Mona scattered the ashes in the Ganges River.

After the ceremony, I struggled with the enormity of Mona’s pain. She had lost her son at such a young age. I wanted to help in some way. I remembered that the Ashram had been planting small caushrina tree saplings up and down the coast of Kerala as a way to help stop beach erosion. Maybe we could plant one in memory of Josha.

Before I asked Mona, I gathered all the information I could. Where could I get a sapling? What kind of care would it require? How much watering? Where would be the best place to plant it? I spoke with the Brahmachari who was in charge of the tree planting project and arranged to get a sapling. I thought the best place to plant it would be at the Ayurvedic research building by the ocean where other saplings had thrived and where Josha had been cremated. I approached Mona who immediately loved the idea of having a place where she could sit in peace, meditate, and remember her son. With Amma’s blessing, we set a date for the planting.

On a sunny day during the first week of September, Mona, Mangalam, Nealu, Manasvini, and myself headed out to the Ayurvedic building. We dug a small hole, gently placed the sapling in the ground and chanted ‘Lokah Samastah Sukinau Bhavantu’ while we filled in the earth and poured water at the base. To our astonishment, we looked up and found three eagles circling above – how auspicious! (During Amma’s Brahmastanam Temple inaugurations, three eagles are regularly seen flying above the temple). Our hairs stood on end while tears flowed. We felt as if the heavens were blessing the ceremony. We were now sure that the sapling would thrive.

Over the next few months, on days when it didn’t rain, I would head out to the beach to water the sapling with a bucket that was filled with filtered water. As I poured the water, I would walk three times around the plant, chanting “Lokah Samastah Sukinau Bhavantu”. Then I would put my palms together and whisper ‘Go Josha!’, a silent prayer to both encourage the plant to thrive and to help Josha merge with the infinite.

In February, when I left for the North Indian tour, the sapling had grown about a foot both upwards and outwards. Around the same time, the Ashram had build a nursery for other saplings right next to Josha’s tree so I arranged for it to be watered by one of the caretakers as I would be gone for the next three months on the North Indian and Australian Tours. When I returned in May, I found the sapling had grown even stronger and higher. It was now more than six months old and could survive on its own. Plus the rainy season was approaching and nature would do its own watering. A week later, I left for the US to join the summer tour.

Now it’s August – and I just returned last week. One of the first things I did was to head to the beach to check on Josha’s tree. It was now over six feet high and in great health! I was so happy. I later ran into Mona who is also back at the Ashram. At her request, on the anniversary of Josha’s passing, thirty of us gathered in the small temple and chanted Amma’s 108 names followed by the 1008 names of the Divine Mother.

This is a photo of Josha’s tree……

Firmly taking root in the soil of Amritapuri and in the depths of our hearts, the tree is representative of the fond memories of Josha which will remain with us forever.

– Sri Pati – US