“But,” said his son, “what talk is that? How can we not worry? It is our duty to do our best!” And he is right. Doctors… some more doctors will arrive from Lucknow today. His brother asked me for money. I did not give. L. warned me that one should not give him. I told him that by Bhai Sahib’s orders I must neither borrow nor lend money to anyone.
23rd September
THIS MORNING DID NOT SEE HIM; he was asleep, his face turned to the wall. Was told that he was a little better. Since this afternoon He came and rested in my heart. It announced itself by a few rapid heartbeats, and I knew that it must be the message from the Master.
Until now I was under most severe separation, and, with the worry about his health, truly, I was pretty desperate. When exactly He came into my heart, I cannot say… noticed it only when He was already there. How relaxing it was, after such a long separation.
Beloved, oh Beloved, why, oh why do You hide Your Face? Must we always suffer from that?
When I came to his place, I was told that he was definitely better.
Did not stay. Had a few chappathies and a tomato salad which needed no cooking.
One of his disciples from Allahabad is here. I saw him for the first time this morning. He was massaging Guru’s feet. In the evening he told me that he asked in the morning: “Was she here?” “Yes,” the disciple answered, “she has just gone.” He told me that he has been Bhai Sahib’s disciple since 1948.
“I am quite new,” I said.
“There is no question of new or old,” he answered; “it is a question of Nearness… it is a question of love. You have seen me for the first time, for instance; if you love me, I will be near to you.
On the other hand, one can live near a neighbor for many years, and he is as far away as anything, and one hardly knows him. It is all a question of love.” What an answer, I thought.
Expected to be able to pray well tonight, with Him in my heart. But no. Could not. Felt full of stillness; the body was relaxed, was so tired after so many days of tension. Could not pray; just slept. And in the night the suffering was there every time I happened to wake up; just for a few seconds in between the wake and sleep… was such an acute sorrow, such an acute pain to break the heart. Oh God, I thought, what suffering is love! No suffering could be greater!
24th September
THEY SAY THAT HE IS BETTER. But I saw him this morning for a moment—he was looking so weak. Did not stay long. People were massaging him. I went. Outside his premises a cow was lying in the street. I came nearer; they usually don’t lie down like that. It was dead. A strange sight: a big, dead animal on the pavement. Sticky flies were covering her eyes completely. India .. . how many sights have you, so strange for us from the West. But the air was fragrant; grey clouds were chasing each other; some dogs were fighting, and they looked funny. A large shrub in Prof. Batnagar’s garden was full of flowers. I sniffed the air; my heart was full… perhaps life can be good after all?
Last night did not see him at all. Did not go inside; he had fever, 102°. But He, the Infinite One was in my heart. Merciful, merciful God… keep him alive….
In the afternoon when I arrived, he was sitting in the big chair surrounded by many pillows. He was breathing with difficulty. I touched his feet when leaving—they were hot; clearly he has fever.
Please God, keep him alive….
25th September
WOKE UP ABOUT 1 A.M. The longing was dreadful, a real physical pain.
What suffering such a longing is! I don’t think that I suffered so acutely, so terribly, in all my life! How could I live now, if he should go? !fl don’t reach the Truth, what will I do? He is my only means to achieve it; if he goes, what then? For hours I was lying awake, thinking… worrying… and suffering much. Death is better than an empty life for perhaps twenty or thirty years, deprived of any hope of achievement. Darkness, loneliness, longing. You took my mind away; I forgot everything. You took my heart away; how can I live? Don’t remember anything anymore, can hardly write English properly. Have nothing left, no money, no mind, no memory, nothing. Have no choice but to go with you, if you choose to go, my dear. Every penny I possess will go to you; I will not need it. If you live, I will be with you and will not need it. If you go, I will go with you, and then again, I will not need it. And with that thought implanted clearly in my mind I felt a sudden, great peace. There were no worries anymore. Not even a little. And I was worrying and fretting for weeks… terribly so. At once there was stillness, no worry at all. The decision was taken. No beating of drums, no drama.
Just a quiet decision to go wherever you go, because life without you is impossible for me any longer. Just that. As simple as that.
Important decisions are simple. They are the outcome of sufferings, the final result of mature reflections, the last act of a situation….
So, you see, my Rev. Guru Maharaj, you got me where you wanted me: nothing remains but love… and even life does not count anymore ….
Discussed the financial situation with his eldest son. He said he will give me some money today or tomorrow. It has been raining since early morning; it is cool, and the world is more Maya than ever as I cook my meal and do some shopping.
35 The Most Difficult Year of my Life
HE IS BETTER, and I know it by the churning of my inside. The Vibration is very strong this morning.
“Let me look at you,” I said to him yesterday, sitting myself in a chair next to his. “I didn’t dare to look at you all those days!”
He turned his head slowly in my direction and regarded me seriously.
“I hope you are not angry with me,” I said softly; my heart was so full that I could hardly speak, so glad I was that he was better….
“You could be angry, I know, because I said and did things which I should not have done, but I ask your forgiveness,” I added in a very low voice, so that his brother should not hear it; he was standing nearby, listening to every word. He did not answer, but looked away while I was speaking.
We went to an anti,malaria station to get a blood examination; the young doctor came with us and said that it was not a case of malaria; he can accept any challenge on that; it is a case of amoebic hepatitis.
As Bhai Sahib refuses anything else, he is treated homeopathically.
28th September, 1962
THIS MORNING I SAT for about one quarter of an hour in the room while he was being massaged. Then he sat in the big chair; Ragunath Prasad was reading a letter to him. Last night I went to Pushpa only to tell her that he was better. Stayed there for supper; we had a long chat on many subjects. My heart full of such stillness and peace. The prayer went well; the mind is empty, and great is the nearness.
1st October
LAST NIGHT FROM SEVEN TO EIGHT in the evening I had such a heart condition that it was alarming, and until 4 a. m. the heart was missing beats. Sleep was out of the question, and I am short of breath this morning, but the heart is normal again, that is, until I sat down in his garden, and then it began beating rather strongly once more… and even while I am writing this.
He looks angry. Did not speak a word to me since he became ill.
Neither does he acknowledge my greeting when I come or go. He just sits there looking severe. I see him for a few moments in the morning and a few moments in the evening. Usually, as soon as I arrive, he asks for hot water to be brought in for washing, and the wife sends .
me out by just pointing to the door. I am sure he does it on purpose, so that I should hardly see him at all.
The days are lonely, dragging endlessly, and full of most acute longing… nonending days full of misery… and it seems that the sun does not shine for me, the grass is not green for me, and there is nothing left but this terrible, all-consuming, torturing, yearning. It is so difficult to bear… and the mind is in the most hopeless state. In the night, for hours, I am listening to the breathless rhythm of the heart. Where are you running? I keep asking, but there is no answer.
And so the days sli
de by. The rainy period has ended, so I have been told. Every night, and all nights, I sleep in the courtyard, with a blanket this time, because it gets cool towards the morning. And the nights have very little sleep in store for me, but much longing, much heartache. ”Give me only the pain of love,” sang a Persian poet. Yes.
And WHAT PAIN it is!
5th October
ON THE SECOND OF OCTOBER in the morning I went to the shop in the bazaar and bought some Indian sweets, a whole box of them, the best ones, and enclosed a note: “Today is exactly one year since I have been with you. It was the most difficult year of my whole life. May God bless you and give you many years of good health.”
As I could not find his brother anywhere, I asked Durghesh to take it to her father. But after quite a while, I saw that they were all crowded in the next room including the wife. Durghesh was reading my note, translating and commenting on it. “Take it to your father, dear,” I said, and she went inside. I left. Intended to come later, which I did. He was sitting in the big chair and did not even look at me. I did not expect any reaction from him… not particularly. Had peace and stillness in the evening and prayed well.
Yesterday I saw him dusting the shelves in his room. I first looked in at the open door, and it seemed to me that he wouldn’t mind me going in, but soon I saw that I was not welcome. So I sat outside, then came to the door later. He was still dusting busily with his back to the door.
“May I come in?” He very slowly and deliberately turned around and gave me an ironic look without answering. I came in and sat for about fifteen minutes. By then he finished dusting, and the hot water was brought in for him to wash. I went. This is done on purpose; it is quite clear. As soon as I come in, he will call for hot water or something else, and the wife sends me out. Just points to the door: out! And I go. So, I see him only for a few moments each time. That’s all.
8th October
WHEN I WAS COMING, I saw that he was sitting alone in the garden, but as I came in through the gate, he got up, went inside, and closed the door. He will avoid me now, to increase the loneliness. The mind gave me some trouble last night. In the last days the mind does not work well at all. Blankness, complete . emptiness periodically, difficulties of thinking and of understanding the most simple, elementary things. Events from the past kept coming into my mind: stupidities, blunders made in the past, things so far away, when I was still a school girl-humiliating situations when I was hurt, and had no sense of proportion and suffered from it. Injustices real or imaginary crept up, crowded in. I regretted all those faults and blunders. Felt dirty and small. “To regret well is to live afresh,” said Thoreau. Is it? So much pride in me. Pride of what? Of all my life which has been wasted? Stupidly wasted? Pride of learning? Which learning? Where is it now? What is the learning; where is the mind? Is it all worth it? No, I have to change, to quicken the process. I am tired of myself.
9th October
I CHANGED THE HOURS in the morning; I go there about eight, but don’t go in. He is being washed; he has his breakfast; I would be only disturbing. So, I go in about eleven. But it is of no use—he repeats the same story: after a few moments he shouts for water. The wife brings the water to be able to send me out, and the water is put there for later use. Today I came at half past eleven, sat there looking at him being so pitifully weak, so pale—there is no flesh left on him. A few minutes later he said to the wife in Hindi: “Bring the children!”
“They won’t come—they are afraid of her,” said the wife. (By that time I already understood enough Hindi to grasp what she said.) “Send her out!” said the Guru, and the wife turned to me and pointed the finger at the door. I went. Walking down the street, I was thinking that it did not hurt so much anymore. I was only sad because I was not allowed to see him for more than a few moments at a time. The children are there all day long; can’t he spare at least a little time for me? But obviously it had to be like this….
In the evening after a few moments I was sent out because his tea was brought in. Even to drink tea is now an excuse to send me out.
Sat outside on the tachat; no chairs were put out. For me alone nobody bothers to do anything. Even the servant seeing the treatment I am getting is treating me with contempt, grins impertinently each time he has the chance, passing by and seeing me seated alone. He does not do it though when somebody else is present.
Looking up to the evening sky, softly colored with dying light of the sunset, was aware suddenly of deepest peace. It was not just the usual stillness; this time it was really deep, so lasting, so wonderfully even. Endless. When it is like this, it represents a sort of strange happiness and is really lovely. I keep forgetting what happiness is, for my memory is so weak lately, but here it was. When it is like this, it seems it will last forever. But deep down I knew that at any moment I can be plunged into the darkness once more. Again and again.
Endlessly….
Went home as in a dream. My prayer, if I can call it so, was impossible to describe. No words exist to define it, for it is dissolution, and the most COMPLETE existence in SOMETIHNG; it is mute, so much so that it transcends the deepest stillness. It is so intimate that it was like a physical pain. I prayed that if he should go, I may go with him. This world has been taken away from me for good ‘ with nothing left—how can I be left behind? Every time I happened to wake up in the night, the longing seemed to tear not only my heart but the whole body to pieces. It really WAS a physical pain….
That’s how it is done, I thought—you put such a longing into my heart, nearly to breaking point, and then when it will become so unbearable as the desire for air when one is drowning, then and only then, I will be able to know the Truth. Verily, the keenest desire is necessary; the Master cannot give us more than what we ourselves desire.
“Your own effort is of not much use,” he said sometime ago. “The keen desire is essential, only this you must have…. ““And it is a gift to those who can take it,” he said at another time. Let’s hope that I will be able to hold it, not let it go. And if I die of it, so much the better….
Great was the nearness yesterday. The heart becomes so full that I have no words, not even a clear thought to formulate a clear idea of it. This morning when I woke up, the sheer physical pain caused by longing was unbearable.
He was coming out just as I came in, took a few brisk steps in the shade, and then sat down. So frail he looked, thirty years older, and I wondered if he will ever be the same again. Something told me that he never will be; he will remain very frail. Then he went in. Guru Grant Sahib was sung in Punjabi for the Dussera Pooja (a festival of the Sikh religion) in the house next to Deva Singh Park. The house was decorated with festoons and lanterns, and a big crowd was there in the street. My heart was so full of this tremendous peace which is all power that I thought it may disturb him; he is bound to feel this flood of feeling. When he went in, I first sat outside with others, then the desire to see him once more prevailed. I timidly lifted the chik to see if I could go in. He was sitting in the big chair listening to the chanting in Punjabi. As he did not seem to mind—he actually took no notice of me—I sat down and immediately the heart began the rapid beat.
The wife came in with a soup. “Send her out!” he said, and she pointed to the door. I went. Sat outside listening to the chanting. I liked it. The sky was clear; it was not hot; it was lovely in the garden.
And the worry for his health, the longing, the deep peace, and the concern for my future, were all there as one in my heart….
DREAM: “If something should happen to you, I have been told to go to the forest,” I said to him, sitting next to me looking very frail and ill. He shook his head slowly: “This is no life for you to go to the forest; there will be years of interesting training for you.” Interesting?
I found myself thinking. And the sufferings? What about those?
But his words give me good hope; it means he will not die, I thought, at least in my dream. Drinking my tea, was reflecting that it must
mean he will live. How can the training continue if he is dead?
I accompanied Ravindra, his eldest son, who is treating him. He seems to be optimistic and said there is no danger anymore. The liver abcess will heal up now; he will recover slowly as time goes by. But I see him so weak, so bloodless. Never will he be the same again… I feel it….
Awakening in the night I had a thought in my mind that I will NEVER GO MAD. I can dismiss it for certain now; it was lurking like a half-admitted fear at the back of my mind—now it is gone; for some reason I knew it for sure.
I don’t even want to speak to him anymore. The worse he treats me, the nearer I am to him.
“The day will come when you won’t want to speak to me anymore,” he said many months before. This seemed to me very improbable at that time. He also said that this will be the beginning of surrender.
10th October
I WENT IN LATER thinking that because his son-in-law was sitting with him, he won’t mind. But he told him to send me out. But I saw that he became very embarrassed, obviously reluctant to do it, and he went out. Immediately the wife came in and pointed to the door as usual. I went. Later the old Takur went in and stayed for a long time. Nobody else came.
11th October
HIS REVERED GURU DID IT TO HIM and he does it to me… nobody is treated as I am. This is a fact. And it should give me good hope. “My Revered Guru Maharaj was scolding me all the time, never spoke to me for many years unless to give an order. The people thought that he hated me. I also thought it at one time. Only later, just five years before his death, I came to know how much he loved me. And he never scolded anybody like that; only to me he was like this.” Well, now, it seems to be my turn… now you do it to me: the burning down….
Did not even try to go inside; he clearly does not want to see me.
Sat in the garden, and through the open gate saw him walking in the courtyard with the help of a stick. He looked frail and fascinating in a slightly frightening way. This fear of him, deep, deep somewhere in me… no wonder….
Daughter of Fire Page 37
