Daughter of Fire

by Irina Tweedie

  He laughed heartily, his wonderfully young laughter, his eyes shining… and he nodded repeatedly, and his laughter deepened.

  When the man had left, I said that I had a certainty that he will not live long. He gave me a quick look.

  “Don’t tell him that.”

  I said, of course not, it would be foolish, but I saw his hand; his life-line was short, and he is sixty-four already.

  “Do not tell him,” he repeated kindly.

  “He told me that he wanted to live till he is 190; I only said that it was a good idea.”

  He only smiled, seemingly in approval.

  25th March

  FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS there is a special peace in my two hearts.

  Again the police officer was talking to him. I saw such a pity, such a compassion shining in Bhai Sahib’s eyes, that I was quite moved.

  Afterwards, when alone with him, I told him that never, never have I seen such an expression of deep compassion in a living human face.

  One can see it on the face of the statues of Buddha, or in great paintings, but it must be rare to find it in a living human face.

  “The man is frightened,” he said thoughtfully; “I am giving him all the help I can.”

  “When you switch over and look at something else which is not physical, there is a misty veil over your eyes. While you were looking at him, you had it all the time; that’s why this compassion—it has something unearthly about it… as gentle as a dove, we say. Do you know what a dove is?” He said he didn’t. I explained that it is a white variety of pigeon, and it is supposed to be the gentlest of all the living creatures. He again smiled his very still smile.My heart was full of the deepest reverence.

  26th March

  WE WERE ALONE nearly all the time in the morning. He had his mala.

  It was very hot. I had a kind of restlessness in me like a foreboding. I saw him giving me a quick look, and I knew that he has seen that I am full of peace. Will you see, I said to myself, that he will take it away from me? We went inside, under the fan. When in the room, he was very kind and talked to me on all sorts of topics. Told him in conversation what I had wanted to tell him a while ago: Babu and Satendra, his sons, told me that they would like to come and see where I live. I don’t mind that, but Babu is so curious that he constantly asks me where I am going and what I am doing. I find it annoying. I don’t need to give an account of my life to a boy. It is not his business.

  He took the opportunity to tell me off—how hard I am still, and that he is trying to change me, but without success. I was wincing under his harsh words.

  “I am not going to waste my powers,” he was saying. “I am not going to help you now! You must help yourself. I gave you such a big place in my heart, and you are still nowhere! You do not know what respect is! There are people who are so afraid of me that they do not dare to speak to me. And you? You are disrespectful to the family of the Guru!” And so he went on for a while.

  He made me cry desperately; I could not stop crying and told him that he was right… what harm is there after all… what did it matter if the boy was curious? It is all pride again, because I thought that I am an elderly woman and it is undignified that a young boy should ask me what I am doing. So I cried, and he, murmuring something to the effect that his wife was going out and he had to see her off, went outside closing the door, but I knew that the real reason was that he felt embarrassed, was sorry for me, and could not bear to see me crying like that. A little later he came in and was very kind. He was telling me that the time has come to bring those things which you have learned into practice.

  “You have been doing good work in the Theosophical Society.

  Now the time is coming when, if you have to love, you must love; if you want to serve, you must serve; if you want to surrender, you must surrender.”

  “But I am trying to do it, Bhai Sahib, I really am!”

  “I know that,” he said emphatically, “and I am realizing it.

  Sometimes I speak to you harshly, but forget about it. I am scraping off the mud; this time it is the finer mud.” He smiled kindly. “And I am pleased,” he said, looking at me.

  So, I knew that the telling off was a test. Have I passed it?

  20 Our People are Tested with Fire and Spirit

  IN THE AFTERNOON he spoke to me a lot. I told him that there was a time when, somehow, he was for me like Surya, the Sun God. I had once a vision of a vast temple with white, red, and yellow columns, and long, dark, cool passages with stone floors. And there was someone who I knew was he, though he looked very different, and much younger. Then too, he was dressed in white, and I remembered clearly the sandals on his brown feet, how they looked, and I could describe them. His feet then looked exactly as they look now—long slender legs, like a statue of Mercury. Deep down in my mind, Suryaworship and him have something in common for me. He smiled, and asked me if I noted this in my diary. I said, not yet, but I am going to do it.

  “Write all those things down,” he said, “they will be of help one day.”

  He sent me to the post office to get some money orders which I had to fill out; he was dictating the names of the people to whom they had to go. “They are all in need of help,” he was saying; “the wife of the one is in hospital with T.B. and he has four children. The other, in Jaipur, needed his roof to be repaired before the rains are due. The third is without work.”

  And so on. I was filling out the money orders, one after another, the whole morning. He was dictating to me, seated crosslegged on his tachat, the address book on his knees. It was quite an experience.

  27th March, 1962

  HAD TO ASK HIM FOR HELP in the morning. The whole night, fire was flowing through my body… liquid fire in the veins instead of blood—it felt like that. All the chakras seemed in turmoil. Did not sleep at all; but all was peace, no “creatures” around me.

  Nevertheless, the physical body was suffering acutely, and the pain was unbearable.

  The head is light this morning. Have an airy-fairy feeling of complete unreality all around me. Had black coffee and aspirins. Am better now. Brought some more money orders. He was dictating an endless list of names and addresses to me. We were alone… only the wife looked in for a moment but did not come in; then I went to the post office and posted them all.

  Tonight he was talking to me from half-past-six to nearly half-past-eight. Of course I did not go to the Kirtan. He began by asking me what was the work of the Theosophical Society and its function in the world. So I told him the history of its foundation, about Mme Blavatsky and Colonel Olcott, of their selfless dedication to the work of the Masters for the sake of humanity, gave him an outline of the Society’s work in the world, and spoke in detail about the English section, the library, classes, lectures, etc. Told him the Society’s main objectives, which are to form a nucleus of the universal brotherhood of humanity without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste or color. To encourage the study of comparative religion, philosophy and science, and to investigate unexplained laws of nature and the powers latent in man.

  He listened carefully. Then he said: “Each of us, we have a work to perform in the world. Some of us work on the inner planes, some are training people, some are in the midst of worldly events guiding human beings aright.”

  “Also in politics?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he nodded; “it was so in the past, it is so now, and it always will be. Humanity needs guidance. Where would the world be without Great Souls appointed to watch over the destinies of men?

  “The goal of men is to realize the Truth. This is the purpose of the whole of Creation. But what can you say after you have realized it?

  How can you describe things which cannot be described in human language? People run after the world and after worldly things phenomena, sensations, illusions. They know not that they will remain in the cave forever” (allusion to the cave of Plato).

  “First you realize who you are, then from where you came, and where you are goin
g. After that no desire remains—everything is gone. One becomes silent; one has nothing more to say. You won’t be able to lecture, but people will come to you, and you will take them one step nearer to the Truth. At the beginning and in the middle one has a great desire to work, but at the end even this desire goes; nothing will remain.

  “You cannot realize God or your Atman through books or lectures. Never! How can we realize Truth through the intellect?

  Where is intellect? Nowhere! In our System we never lecture, never write books. If one day you will see me go on a platform and lecture, then you will know that I came down!”

  “I remember that you had said that you are training me according to your System, and still you want me to lecture in the future, and you also told me to keep a diary which will be a book one day?”

  “This is quite another matter. Orders are orders. I have just told you that, each of us, we have a certain work to perform in the world.

  For a while this will be your work. Later, further orders will be given. We must all reach the stage where we are guided from within.”

  “If you are training me according to the Ancient Tradition, then the time must come when you will send me away to go and do some work. For as far as I know, this is the Tradition, is it correct?”

  He nodded. “I send my people away, as soon as the Training is finished. Now go and work, I say, and they go. My people are tested with Fire and Spirit, and then sent out into the world, and never, never do they go wrong!”

  And so it was, that from his own mouth I came to know for sure that one day I will have to go, broken-hearted I will go, leaving my Teacher behind…. May this day be far away, may it never come…. But after all, His Will ultimately will have to be done… only, please, may it still be in the far, far future!

  It was a glorious night. The stars seemed so near, so large. Venus was low, and pale blue, huge, against the already dark sky. I was humming to myself… was singing softly all the songs I knew—they were not very many. Everybody was talking; nobody took the slightest notice of me. It gave me some kind of relief, to hear my own voice; there was a sort of trembling happiness which needed outward expression. I understood him so well when sometimes he was singing, marking the time by clapping his palms on his thigh. And sometimes he was talking so much and I wondered, why such a waste of energy?… because at times there is such a tremendous energy in the body that it must have some outlet. At home, for instance, when this happens, I begin to clean, to wash; the feverish activity brings a kind of relief.

  Sitting near him, I was thinking that he told me last night to go home, to be in peace and to sleep well. It probably means that he is sure to prepare some other trouble for me because I have relative peace just now. A calm before a storm?

  Looking at the stars shimmering above, in the clear Indian sky, during a pause in the general conversation, I asked him: “Bhai Sahib, can you go and have a look at one of the stars and see if it is inhabited?” He shook his head. “But why not?” I inquired, “there are no barriers for the Atman.”

  “But why should the Atman go there; this is the barrier!”

  I had to laugh, so simple was the answer. Atman does not “GO

  ANYWHERE,” it just IS. It is one with all. When one realizes one’s own Atman, no desire remains; why should one come down and begin again to have desires?

  Later I asked him about his ideas on God. He only laughed. Lately he does it often; he only laughs or gives me deliberately confusing answers, so that the mind has nothing to hold.

  28th March

  IN THE MORNING I was sitting in the passage which is the coolest place, for it is already pretty hot at seven; he came out only for a moment and sent me away saying that he is going to have a bath. He has his bath at least twice a day. We all sit in the garden and wait. Well, probably he just did not want me to be sitting there; he must have his reason….

  29th March

  JUST SAT IN THE ROOM ALONE. He was resting in the other room. The ceiling fan was humming softly; the rhythm of the Indian household was all around me. The servants were quarrelling; the wife was cleaning the jars for the pickles at the fountain; water was filled into the earthenware jars, the crackling of firewood, the smell of food being cooked. A child cried somewhere, nearby. A woman’s voice was singing softly a monotonous, sad, melody. It was hot. It was good. How I loved India—it was so much a part of me. Far back in London {it seems so long ago) a friend once said that England was temperamentally wrong for me. But India was right; I knew it as soon as I came here. I love every little bit of it; it is my home. Even the dust, even the smells are familiar, and they belong to the character of this land. Ancient Samskaras (impressions of actions in universal mind which lead to the wheel of rebirth)? Could be. Went first to the bazaar, then home. One must eat to keep body and soul together….

  In the evening we had a talk on the doctrine of Karma, which he said was a childish belief. I was more puzzled than ever. I retaliated with the arguments of its logic, how it explains so many things which otherwise would be incomprehensible, but point by point he kept defeating every argument, most brilliantly, with clear, sharp, logic.

  His ability for discussion is devastating; he leaves one mute, speechless….

  “It is difficult to become one with the Teacher,” he was saying.

  His eyes were incredibly shining, looking right through me. In the light of the street-lamps his eyes were shining with brilliant, green light. A cat’s eyes in the dark, as the eyes of all the animals when caught in the headlight of a car, shine brilliant-red; but his were emanating a cold, green light when he was talking, and the rays of the street lamp moving through the foliage of the tree were catching his eyes. I never saw such a phenomenon in any other human being, or any creature, as a matter of fact… especially when he was gay and laughing; small sparks seemed to fly from his eyes.

  “It is difficult to become one. Manas will fret and work on it and ask questions, until this happens. Then, of course you will know.

  But on the physical plane there will always be differences; this is quite natural.”

  30th March

  ALL THE MORNING, sitting there alone, I kept worrying about the doctrine of Karma. If Karma does not exist, how can one account for the order of the Universe? One can see everywhere the Law of Action and Reaction, the cause producing its effects. He himself admits the existence of Karma by his statement that the attachment for the Master produces such a strong Vasana that it remains forever. And what is Vasana? Are not Vasanas subtle desires arising from Samskaras, which remain as impressions of actions in Chitta (universal consciousness)?

  “This is part of the System,” said Prof. Batnagar when we were discussing it: “to destroy all the preconceived ideas, all your beliefs, which come from learning and book knowledge. Perhaps some of the ideas will get confirmation later, but by then they will be a living experience, no book knowledge any longer. As far as I understand, as soon as a Saint wishes to give you something, from the moment he sets his eyes on you, Karmas cannot reach you anymore. He does as he likes. He can give to anybody his property, just as he wishes.

  Karmas are for the ordinary people, still under the influence of the law of cause and effect… but no more for you if you are with a Saint. People do not surrender, they are MADE TO SURRENDER, said the Master. If I may give you an advice: put all your doubts and worries into cold storage. Leave them there. They will all be solved one day; then they will be in a new light for you. Do not ask questions anymore.”

  Wrote to Australia about my shares to be sold. It all has to go. The sooner the better, he said. I am quite resigned to it.

  1st April

  EVERY DAY it is hotter and hotter. A scorching wind springs up, pushing the temperature over 100. Nights, too, are very hot and windless. A few evenings ago, just when I was leaving, he said: “Go home and sleep well, and have peace for a few days.”

  The few days seem to be over. Slept only from eleven to quarter to one, and the rest
of the night I was lying awake, thinking and listening and watching the currents chasing each other in my body. The pain was bearable. It is a very well-known fact that when one cannot sleep, the mind begins to work feverishly; every problem becomes magnified. And if there is a pain in the heart, that can become unbearable. Lately, I noticed that the longing from which I am suffering so much since I am with Bhai Sahib becomes more and more difficult to bear. Something in me is full of sorrow, so deep that I cannot reach it, cannot analyze it… only the claws of pain are tearing my heart apart….

  Something in me is crying desperately. Cannot get a clear idea of this depression, why the sun is not shining for me, why all is bleak, and there seems no hope at all, anywhere. There are times when I think death would be better…. I cannot offer a rational explanation for this mood. I don’t even know what causes it. It is just confusion, despair, sheer despair, quite simply… that’s all I know… and endless longing. A terrible, tremendous desire, but for what? For that which is so evasive, so far away… a nonending torment….

  He was telling me off: “Sit properly; you have no respect; you don’t know how to behave, how to sit properly in the presence of a Teacher. To sit in a chair crossing your legs is rude. To stretch your legs out is even more rude.”

  I told him that I am so hot that I try to move my legs in different positions, to get some coolness, some relief. He shook his head in disapproval.

  “You have to sit modestly, knees and feet together; never mind the heat.” His face was as hard as stone, and he went on like this for a while, finding faults with my behavior.

  I burst out crying and could not stop. Lately when I begin to cry (and I cry so easily—the least thing can cause it), I just cannot stop; such a helpless feeling of despair comes over me, my heart wounded by so much longing, I simply cannot bear it. Must be a kind of hysteria. My nervous system is shaken. Cannot bear seeing him angry or even to think that he is displeased.