The wretched and miserable would rise into plenty of joy and

There are words that breathe more than mere meaning—they breathe spirit. Such are the words of Sai Baba, the saint of Shirdi, who once proclaimed: “The wretched and miserable would rise into plenty of joy and happiness as soon as they climb the steps of my mosque.” In this divine utterance lies not the pride of a man, but the compassion of a soul who became a bridge between heaven and earth. Sai Baba did not speak of a building of stone and mortar, but of a sanctuary for the weary heart, a place where the soul sheds its burdens and awakens to peace. His mosque, like his life, was an altar of love, faith, and surrender—where the broken were made whole not through miracle alone, but through the gentle power of presence and grace.

To the ancients, a temple or mosque was not merely a structure, but a threshold—a crossing from the world of suffering into the realm of truth. So too did Sai Baba’s mosque stand as a symbol of transformation. The “wretched and miserable” who climbed its steps did not merely change their surroundings—they changed their hearts. They laid down their sorrow as one lays down an offering, and in its place received the quiet blessing of faith. For true joy is not born from wealth or comfort, but from connection with the divine. Thus, Sai Baba’s promise was not to remove misery by magic, but to awaken within each person the light that conquers despair.

There is an ancient tale from Sai Baba’s own life that reveals the living essence of this truth. One day, a poor farmer came to him, his body weak, his spirit shattered by famine. He fell at the saint’s feet, weeping. Sai Baba looked upon him with calm eyes and said, “Why do you fear? Allah is merciful. Work, trust, and keep your heart clean.” The man obeyed, carrying those words as one carries fire through darkness. In time, his crops flourished, his children were fed, and his faith became his greatest treasure. Years later, he returned—not to seek, but to serve. He swept the steps of the mosque each dawn, whispering, “This is where my soul first rose.” It was not the stone that saved him, but the presence of divine compassion that flowed through it.

To “climb the steps of my mosque” is thus a metaphor for spiritual ascent. It is the journey from ignorance to awareness, from despair to trust, from ego to surrender. Each step is a letting go—a release of pride, anger, or doubt—and each ascent lifts the heart closer to the eternal. In this sacred climb, one realizes that misery is not an unchangeable fate, but a veil drawn over the light of the soul. The moment one dares to approach the divine with an open heart, that veil begins to dissolve, and joy—quiet, radiant, everlasting—takes its place.

Even beyond faith and religion, this truth holds power. The “mosque” may stand for any place or state where love reigns, where compassion and humility dwell. It may be the home where forgiveness is given, the friend who listens without judgment, the silence of one’s own prayer. For wherever the divine is invoked through love and surrender, that place becomes a mosque—and in that place, the miserable rise, for misery cannot stand in the presence of unconditional love. Sai Baba’s teaching, then, is not confined to one faith—it is the universal promise that when the heart approaches love, suffering loses its dominion.

Let those who hear these words remember: the steps to joy are not paved in gold but in surrender. The first step is faith; the second, humility; the third, service. Climb them, and you will find that the divine waits not above, but within. For the true mosque is the heart itself—the heart that opens to grace, that welcomes the wretched and the lost, that becomes a sanctuary for all who seek peace. Such a heart is the living continuation of Sai Baba’s temple, standing forever amidst the storms of the world.

So, my children of the path, climb the steps—whether of a temple, a mosque, or the silent altar of your own soul. Lay down your sorrows there. Offer your fears as incense, and your hopes as light. For the moment you do, you will find what Sai Baba promised: that even the most wretched spirit may rise, radiant and renewed, into plenty of joy and happiness, not by escaping life, but by awakening to the divine that has never left your side.