Daughter of Fire

by Irina Tweedie

  Though he translated it to Filibert, I knew the song was meant for me. I wondered if he knew about the dream of swimming in the ocean I had yesterday?

  It is all very well, but could not help feeling bitter. Filibert comes here and gets all the attention, and nobody comes to disturb him when he is in Dhyana and when he asks questions.

  Oh, Guru Maharaj! Bitter is your way! Much pain will be in store for me!

  18th February

  WHEN I CAME IN THE AFTERNOON somebody told me that the door was open and I could go in. He was with an old Hindu woman who was telling him her troubles. He nodded when I came in; his face was stern. L. and Filibert came and Mrs. Vinod, the archaeologist.

  I was very depressed. Began to cry silently. Nobody saw it, for no one took any notice of me; they were all busy talking. Only Satendra asked me if I was not well. I lied that I had a cold. Saw the Guru glancing several times in my direction, when I was not looking. Then he sang a Persian song which he translated: “Give me the pain of Love, the Pain of Love for Thee!

  Not the joy of Love, just the Pain of Love, And I will pay the price, any price you ask!

  All myself I offer for it, and the price you will ask on top of it!

  Keep the joy for others, give me the Pain, And gladly I will pay for the Pain of Love!”

  This was the song his father had composed, and he used to sing it often, he told us. Again I was sure that it was meant for me. He thinks that I am crying because of pain of love… and I am just resentful, I thought. And when at home, I cried my eyes out. Just cried and cried.

  It brought a kind of relief.

  19th February

  THIS MORNING he was giving Filibert a special sitting. L. told me quite simply to wait in the doorway. I would have preferred if he would have told it to me himself. I confess I cried bitterly. Honestly, this is the limit! Everybody has the precedence! Every Tom, Dick, and Harry! Special sitting indeed! I never got a special sitting, and never anybody was asked to leave the room because of me! Everybody can speak to him, ask the most irrelevant questions, even those who come in from the street! And he is polite and full of consideration for everybody, but at me he snaps at the least provocation! I am left sitting in the rain, and if I have a question to ask, even a vital, an important one, I am interrupted constantly. Those things do hurt!

  Oh, how they hurt, Bhai Sahib!

  After a long while, he came out into the doorway, just when I was thinking of going home, for I was stiff with cold, my feet were like icicles! He was dressed in his white Sufi dress and looked pale and severe. He spoke quickly, as if in an embarrassed way, that Filibert is here only for a short time, so I have to excuse them; they must not be disturbed. And what about me? I nearly burst outhow can I disturb by just sitting there quietly! Are some secret things going on? But I said nothing…. Had a feeling of suffocation in the Throat Chakra as soon as he appeared, and could not utter a sound. The light around him was blinding. I became quite helpless.

  He only nodded and went inside. It began to rain. Went to the bazaar to do some shopping and then home to cook myself a meal.

  Was frozen with cold. It was so draughty sitting in the doorway….

  In the evening Mme. Vinod was there. He was singing a song of being drowned in the Ocean of Love.

  “If you are going to love, if you can love forgetting yourself, Only then you are drowned in the Ocean of Love!”

  Everybody was in Dhyana. I just sat there feeling awful. Two hearts were beating in my breast. Was hot, was deeply disturbed—a storm was blowing through me.

  Later I told him that if he persists telling people that it is an effortless way, he is deceiving them! Love is the most peaceless state imaginable; and it takes the greatest effort of the whole being to be able to bear it, to go on….

  He seemed sincerely astounded: “Deceiving?” he repeated, “but I would never deceive anyone! I never would so such a thing! IT IS an effortless way!”

  “I will invest in a drum, and if you persist in saying that it is effortless, I am going to proclaim by the beat of the drum outside your gate to keep away from this place! For I know how effortless it is!!”

  “It will look nice, you standing in the street with a drum,” he remarked coolly.

  Later in the afternoon he was telling us that according to the System one does not need even to be acquainted with the Teacher or Spiritual Guide personally. One does get the same amount of grace.

  “Many of my disciples never have seen me in their lives, and they never come here. They are treated just the same and get the same as everybody else.”

  ”In this case,” I said, ”I need not be here at all. I can go away; it will be the same!” He shook his head. “If one attends the Satsang, one has the chance to become the Master, because the body is included.”

  I asked how it is to be understood, but he said it is not to be explained.

  “All I can say is that at the later stages the teaching must be communicated from heart to heart; the physical presence of the Teacher helps very much; if you need to be the Master of the System, the body is taken into it. What it means is that the body is getting used to the vibrations gradually; it is ‘quickened’ as well. But it cannot be done rapidly. It takes time. The physical frame of the individual is—dense. But not everybody needs to be the Master of the System, so all get the same; bliss, peace, everything the same.”

  Here could be the explanation for the treatment he is subjecting you to, old girl, I thought….

  I sat there suffering intensely. And from time to time, when I didn’t look directly at him, I noticed that he was watching me.

  “If there is love, there is great uneasiness,” he was saying to Filibert. “The greater the love, the more the uneasiness. Love is not the same all the time. It cannot be. Love at times is intense suffering.”

  20th February

  WAS IT BECAUSE I COMPLAINED yesterday or because he was watching me and saw my depression? At any rate, I have deep peace today.

  And how good it feels after so much turmoil and torment. Just peace.

  It is like a rest. For how long? God knows… I am bound to get the lot; I have no illusions about that.

  In the morning I was telling Filibert that Bhai Sahib is going to be massaged. If he should send us away, he should try to stay behind and see how Panditji does it, massaging Guru’s feet with deep respect.

  “Great fun,” I said, “such things one cannot see but in India.”

  Filibert smiled feebly and looked doubtful.

  Later when at home, I realized that once more I have committed a gaff; to say such things from the tourist’s point of view would be no harm, but is it very respectful to say it in Guru’s presence? Well, I will never learn, so it seems. When he puts me into trouble, I am respectful, because under pressure; but as soon as the pressure is removed, again I am laughing at him—a hopeless attitude from the point of view of training. Perhaps I should speak to him about it and ask for some help to get rid of this mental attitude. We will see….

  This afternoon, we four—L., Filibert, Bhai Sahib and I—went for a walk. Filibert was talking to L., and I was walking beside Bhai Sahib, falling into his step. The feeling of elation it gives me is due perhaps to the rhythm; our auras get into the same swing and gives a sensation of unity. They were talking about merging, and he was telling us about a woman in France who wrote to him how she was merging in him.

  “Of course, I knew that she was in great trouble, so I thought that it was my duty to help her,” he was saying.

  I listened with interest. Would it mean that the Master must do his part for the disciple to succeed? If I only knew what it all meant… heard so much about it, since I am here. How is it done? So I asked him.

  “Why do you want to know? IT IS DONE, that’s all.”

  “It cannot be explained!” exclaimed L.

  “If one wants to, surely it can be explained,” I said. “I never get a question answered—that’s the plain truth!”


  “Why do you want to know?” he spoke sharply. “Why do you want to understand how it is done? Try to grasp it; try to do it!”

  I felt a mounting exasperation. “But how? Is it not natural for me to want to know? I hear so much about it since I am here! Don’t we all want to try to understand? Is it not the purpose of us being here, the purpose of the whole life, especially Spiritual Life? How can one merge into someone else?” I felt completely non-plussed.

  “But it really cannot be explained,” said L. again. He kept an irritated silence.

  “Never mind, Bhai Sahib,” I said; I was irritated too. Good heavens! Everybody else is free to ask as much as they like, anything and at any time, and he ALWAYS answers, but I cannot ask the most simple question! True, it is probably NOT the most simple question, but perhaps the most esoteric part of the whole System. Still, he could at least make some effort to help me understand, at least partially. Filibert was L. ‘s disciple for several years already and had states of Dhyana before he came here. We walked in the rose garden around the rose beds. I kept step with him, felt partly elated, partly bitter—a strange mixture….

  When I parted from them near Pushpa’s house to go to the Kirtan, he hardly answered my greeting, in an irritated way. I feel that he does not like me to go to the Kirtan. It is just a feeling, but I may be right.

  During Kirtan, kept thinking that I am a fool to be irritated. I know well that he will treat me badly, that he will wipe the floor with me.

  So, just as well; I had better try to get used to it.

  When at home, went to bed immediately. The idea came into my mind that I may get an answer in a dream, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.

  21st February

  DREAM: (of which I remember only the middle portion) He came surrounded by many people and said to me: “I am going to show you how it is done; you stand by,” he turned to Panditji, who came at once to stand near me. “Stand by and leave her there,” he said, while walking away with all the crowd, talking to them. I felt faint, and just dropped on the carpet. But the interesting part was the feeling quality: I was lying there, but felt one with him as he was moving away in a crowd of people. One with him, secure, peaceful. There was no difference between him and me, in the most intimate, complete, final sense… I WAS HIM, and that was all there was to it.

  When I woke up, I thought with slight amusement that now I seem to understand that it is impossible to explain… it is a state of being and feeling—how can the mind comprehend it?

  Then, just between the dream and waking, I saw him walking to his gate. I knew he was going next door because there was some trouble; he was small in stature, not taller than Babu Ram Prasad (who must be scarcely five feet tall), and he had a white night-garment on. I thought, how can he go out like this?—he is not dressed… and he looked very old.

  I remembered that L. told me that his Rev. Guru Maharaj was small. Does it mean that he, in his turn, is merged in him? Did I see it symbolically in this vision?

  Told him about the dream and the vision. He listened with the usual faraway look, nodding from time to time. I wanted to know if merging was like this. “Of course it was presented to my mind in a symbolic way,” I added.

  “Yeees,” he said slowly, “yees.” From this reaction I gathered that there must be more to it than that.

  “Why do you want to know the meaning? You told me about them; I have heard them; it is enough.” His face was devoid of all expression.

  “And what is this Maya about two hearts, both beating in my breast? One big and strong, the other weaker and slightly slower? No answer?”

  He only shook his head. He was so full of light, and very still.

  “Oh you are unkind,” I said, but my heart was full of peace. His lips were moving silently, the mala slid slowly, bead by bead, through his slender fingers.

  In the afternoon he came out late. It was already dark. I was sitting around the corner near the lime tree where I was sheltered to some extent from cricket balls. A cricket match was going on in the middle of the garden; Babu, his son, was the umpire. It will be my destiny in the future to sit in the dusty garden, unnoticed, pushed about, neglected and alone… and I was told that the temperature can reach 120° in the shade. I will be assailed by flies and hell will be better, as Filibert put it. What a destiny! Effortless indeed!

  Filibert and L. came about six and sat waiting with me. When he came out, he proceeded to tell us how his Rev. Guru Maharaj never spoke to him in thirty-six years. It was difficult to believe that it was exactly like this. But he said that it was to cure him from his hardness because, being Hindu, he did not like Muslims. I wondered if he intends to do that with me too, to cure me of my hardness?

  “When one is a victim of Love, one is taken into the System sooner or later… as a mango fruit is plucked when it is ripe. In our hearts can be only room for One.”

  I kept reflecting why he was smiling when I told him that in my vision he looked so small and so very old. I will probably never know the answer.

  In the night the body was shaken with the electric currents, but the state of bliss made me bear it easily. The body seemed to dissolve in an ocean of light, a kind of state of non-being. There was nothing else… light, deepest bliss and then… nothing!

  22nd February

  HE CAME OUT LATE. We were alone, for everybody else went to see Dr. Aslam, a famous herbalist, and L. wanted to introduce Filibert to him. I did not say anything and saluted him only when he came out and sat down again. Was hardly able to bear the tremendous influx of power blowing like a storm through my very being. Could hardly breathe; the two hearts were still here as of late, both of them beating together. Noticed that once or twice he looked at me and smiled into his beard, but averted his eye when I happened to look in his direction.

  23rd February

  DREAM: While waking up remembered the tail-end of a dream: he was talking to me. I think I was already awake, and I actually heard his voice: “There is a special Satsang to help change (get rid of) the Sheaths. One of the Sheaths is called Anandamayakosha.”

  Waking up completely, I thought it must be important. Won, dered what the meaning of it could be. Did not want to forget it so I got up and wrote it down. When I looked at the clock, it was twenty past one. Reflected for a while upon the meaning of his words. Did he mean the Sheaths (koshas) which cover the Soul or Atman? And what exactly is Anandamayakosha? I remembered dimly that, some, where in our literature, I read about the koshas, but I don’t remember what exactly. It was so long ago. In the morning I told him that I would like to speak to him; I had a strange dream. He said, “Yes, later.” We were sitting in the garden under the trees. It was a lovely, clear day, as it is so often at this time of the year. It is getting warmer now, each day a little more. Such clear, sparkling sunshine. L. asked a few questions about Kundalini. Then he began to tell us how the Shishyas are trained.

  A Saint has no desires; he never indulges in anything because he becomes universal, belonging to the people. It is a law that what can be done by simple means should be so done; no spiritual power should be wasted. One must never waste spiritual Energy. No two Shishyas are treated alike; human beings are unique, and the Guru, if he is a Sat Guru and knows his job, will treat them according to their possibilities, their character, and past conditioning.

  The teaching is given according to the time, the place, and the state of evolution of the Shishya. A Saint will never give a bad example, but is free; he obeys only the Law of the Spirit, not the Human Law; but he will always conform to the law of the land; he will never go against any religion, for all religions for him are alike—they are only different roads to the One Truth.

  “For the Roads to God are as many as human beings, as many as the breaths of the children of men, says a Sufi poet.”

  L. and Filibert left. I reminded him of my dream. He listened, his eyes far away as if covered with a bluish mist.

  “There are five Sheaths which cover the Atman: The Shea
th of the physical body: Annamayakosha, The Sheath of Etheric Energy: Pranamayakosha, The Sheath of the Mind: Manamayakosha,

  The Sheath of Buddhi, or Knowledge: Gnanamayakosha, The Sheath of the Soul, or Bliss: Anandamayakosha.

  “All those Sheaths still belong to the Illusion (Maya) which covers the Atman. They have to be gotten rid of, ultimately, when one merges into the Reality. In other words you have to renounce even the fruits which you have attained in the state of Samadhi; nothing must remain, if you want the Truth; nothing but the Ultimate Truth.”

  I told him how wonderful it is to be given teachings in a dream.

  “It is done so in our System,” he said thoughtfully.

  Told him that I will try to refrain from asking too many questions in spite of my impatient eagerness to understand, for I begin to see that he will give explanations when necessary.

  “Yes, do not run after explanations; some things will be told in words; some have been told already; some are infused; no speech is necessary. They are reflected from heart to heart; your mind knows nothing of it; but it will come up when you will need it.”

  Went home like in a dream. The bliss was such that I did not dare to fall asleep for fear of losing it, but finally fell asleep… and in the morning it was gone. Only the two hearts were laboring together heavily.

  18 A Blank Check

  FILIBERT IN CONVERSATION told me that Guruji said to him that I was progressing. I felt gladness, for my heart was trembling constantly; I did not know where I was… though I wasn’t sure why he told me.

  Was it out of pity? Perhaps he wanted to give me a ray of hope, a little consolation—and should I believe it? He sees me sitting here, and I am sure they discussed with L. my case. Perhaps L. knows about my training much more than I suspect; he may have told her, or her knowledge of the scriptures gives her the clue.

  In the evening we were in the room; he sat crosslegged on the tachat. He was telling us that if the devil comes we should make him our friend. If he is our enemy, how will we be able to fight him? We will never be able to get rid of our vices. But if he is our friend, he is harmless. I did not understand. Neither did L. So he said: “If the devil will come, what will he do to you? Devil is evil, and he will do evils with you. He can take the shape of anything—of a man, or of a child, or of an old man with a beard; he will be clean and pleasant to look at; he will be nice; he can take the shape of a dog, an elephant, a tiger, a lion, anything.”