Daughter of Fire

by Irina Tweedie

  14th November

  THE WHOLE HORROR OF BEING SENT BACK to England, penniless, was dawning on me clearer and clearer, slowly, making me cry intermittently. “You are subjecting me to a very severe test,” I said quietly, but I was trembling inside. He became very still, tilted his head slightly backwards, then nodded slowly with the grave expression I know so well by now. “For you are sending me away just shortly after the large check from Australia will arrive; you don’t just take all the money away from me and then throw me out. Oh no; you do it much more subtly than that. You want to see what difference it will make to my attitude, what will I do now, because the situation is completely changed. But I can tell you already that it will make no difference: a promise is a promise-it is all yours. I will go, trusting God and you, my dear. Once I challenged you in unbelief and arrogance. This is also a challenge, but of a different sort. I am challenging destiny and you, by complete trust, this time. I know there will be even greater tests to come in the future, but I am prepared.”

  He kept nodding, slowly, gravely; I could not see if his eyes were closed or open, his hands were lying in his lap; but for his head, he was absolutely motionless, like a statue.

  “From the very first days since I have known you, I noticed that you are beating the same chord again and again: you put all the appearances against you, and one has to have faith in spite of everything. The ways of the Masters are seemingly the same as the ways of the world: you made me penniless and then you throw me out… and this is the test.”

  All the while I was speaking I kept crying; my heart was aching, it seemed so cruel…. No sound, no movement came from him, not the slightest, the tiniest sound or movement; only this time I knew that he listened not only to every word, but to the very inflection of my voice. And for reasons I am unable to explain, this very silence seemed to confirm me in my faith, and kept the doubts away from my mind.

  15th November

  FOR THE WHOLE MORNING had a vomiting condition; had hardly anything to eat. The body feels very weak, and the head is like a ballon. For the first time I felt a distinct vibration in my head, somewhere in the forehead. Must be the brow Chakra; until now the vibration never went higher than the throat Chakra.

  He was talking to his brother about a frontier incident. “Yes,” he turned to me; “why should I listen to you? What you have to say is not at all important to me.”

  “But to me it is so important, and how! I don’t even know what sort of work you want me to do and if I will be useful at all.”

  “Why should I tell you in detail what kind of work? You will be told in time.” He grumbled, combing his beard with his fingers. “I hint to you; this is enough. Who has the time to explain all the details to everybody.”

  To everybody, no, I thought sadly, but to me, yes; you are training me; with others you speak about politics.

  “Who would have dared to speak to my Rev. Guru Maharaj, as you spoke to me just now—not even my father or my uncle; not to speak of my brother and myself.”

  I looked at him; for I did not say anything; I have been only thinking…. “You don’t know the respect.” And I sat there with lowered head thinking that he was right. But on the other hand how COULD I know the respect due to an Oriental Master?…

  16th November

  I WAS FULL OF STRONG VIBRATIONS last night… and could not sleep because of many worries. What will the future bring? Seems too dreadful for words….

  Early before seven, Pushpa came with the car to take me to the Satsang of a supposed great Saint, who is here from Delhi. We went there by rikshaw. In a large marquee, as they use it here for wedding ceremonies, dharries were laid out on the floor, and hundreds of people were sitting on them. The Saint, an old man of dignified appearance, sat near a platform with microphones. He is of the Sikh religion and was considered to be a great Saint. To me he was just a very ordinary looking old man and very repulsive. He kept spitting on the carpet in front of him, then rubbing it in with the fingers. I thought it was a disgusting thing to do in front of all the public. But in India such things seem to matter little if at all. Then he periodically kept rubbing his teeth with the forefinger as if to clean them from the remainders of food. This too I found most unappetizing. He gave a talk in Hindi, and then he sat in meditation. But the audience was restless, much coughing was going on.

  Sat in the garden afterwards. Alone. Guruji did not come out at all.

  I heard him sweep out his room; the door was closed, a sign that he won’t come out and wishes to rest. The vibrations were terrific; fire was burning inside me, the whole world was a Maya devoid of meaning, a crazy dream… as in reality it is. The mind works little and the worry is terrible, slowly nagging and nagging, biting deeper and deeper.

  17th November

  THE WORLD WAS SINGING around me when I was going home. I was happy, so happy, after a long time. He was so kind to me, and we had a long talk. And the future did not seem to be so dark after all….

  Woke up about three. The courtyard, the mosquito net, my bed, myself, all was suffused with the soft light of the waning moon. The walls of my little white home looked as though covered with snow.

  The stars were pale. In my heart was stillness. Perfect peace. Was thinking much. Crying from time to time, because of so much longing. How will I go? I will go anywhere with your blessing.

  Heartbroken… but I will go. I will think only of coming back, live only in the hope of return. A nightbird was calling. India. Beautiful India… how much I love you.

  When at his place heard him again sweeping his room. Thought that he might not come out after the important talk last night. But he came… looking very weak; his skin was grey. The Sannyasi was sitting too. He asked if the money from K. junior would be here by the 15th December. I said, yes, surely, it will be. He asked if I wrote to the Insurance Co. in London and if the money will be here for the 15th of January. I said I hoped that it would be, but it depended entirely on the Reserve Bank of India.

  “Money,” he said with a sigh. “I get hundreds of rupees every month, and I am always broke, it all goes …. It is like this on our Line. Money comes like water and flows away like water. Money is less than dust. What I do with the money nobody knows, not even my wife; she knows that I may have hundreds of rupees; what I do with them she does not know. It is not known but to those who have to do it, the work, I mean.” Those are instructions, I thought, I had better remember.

  “I am not at all clear in my mind what sort of work you would want me to do, Bhai Sahib,” I began.

  “What work?” he quickly turned to me. “What work would I want from you but that you should lecture and write a book? People will come and sit with you.” He looked at me fixedly, then closed his eyes and fell silent. I held my breath. That can only mean according to the Eastern Tradition that I am supposed to help people with Meditation, help them to take a step nearer to the Truth. That would mean a certain responsibility, naturally, and I wasn’t very keen on this idea. To guide people is a great responsibility; it is a commitment not easy to bear….

  “Was something done last night when you spoke to me?”

  “Done what?” His eyes where smiling.

  “Because something had happened.”

  “Happened what?” he wanted to know.

  “I woke up about three, and there was peace and little worry, so much stillness, and I wept and wept and the vibration is now in the head, permanently. And this morning all the vibrations are going strong, but in spite of them I have peace.”

  “You will have all sorts of experiences,” he said nodding with assent, “all sorts of experiences. But I may not speak to you at all, for this is the Line. Things are done in silence-somewhere. Note it all down; it is important.”

  I showed him the pamphlet of the Saint I saw with Push pa. He read it through. Shook his head in disapproval.

  “Propaganda, advertisement, this is not good.We don’t work this way. Articles, propaganda: no, this is not done.”
r />   “I have the horrible suspicion that I won’t see you again.”

  “Why have such thoughts?” His eyes were smiling into mine.

  “It is like an agony, a terror, never to be able to see you again, and I am deeply unhappy about it.”

  “Well,” he said looking afar, “I can give you only a hint, but it is a very clear one.” He spoke slowly, measuring every word. “About November in ‘65, not before, there is a holiday (it must be Devali, I thought very quickly listening to every word), then I would want you to come back.” Suddenly it was like a flood of love in my heart; full of gratitude I bent down and pressed my forehead lightly for a few seconds against his right foot, for he was sitting in Guru Asana.

  His skin was cool; he is so weak flashed through my mind, and a current of tenderness, of pity ran through my mind. His eyes were closed; he sat perfectly still. “I am glad that you have got what you wanted,” said the Sannyasi,” Bhai Sahib translated. “No, I got much more than I dared to expect, due to the Lotus Feet of my Revered Guru Maharaj.” He laughed and translated it to the Sannyasi.

  “I only ask for your blessing!”

  “You will have it,” he nodded gravely.

  “Give me your blessing and humility, and I will go anywhere at any time, to do any work for you.”

  “Why ask for humility?” he smiled. “Why do you want to limit yourself? It is a veil between us! If the Beloved would ask you: become naked before me and you say, yes, but only for one hour, then it is a limitation, is it not? You put conditions! No such ideas should remain in your mind!”

  “But with my character I may finish on the wrong path if I have no humility!”

  “No,” he shook his head, “no, it is not so; when we send to work our people, they need not fear; gold can be put before them, anything in the world, they don’t budge…. Our people are tested with fire and spirit and never, never do they go wrong! By the time you leave,” he said softly and very slowly, “by the time you leave, I think there will be no veil of separation left between us.”

  “Amen, amen!” I said, putting all my yearning into the words.

  What a System… even to put conditions is a limitation, is a veil.

  Even to ask for anything at all represents a separation….

  Later he said that the Lord Buddha was the first to preach how important it is not to injure anybody’s feelings; one must never hurt.

  I knew it was a hint, a clear reminder for me on my future behavior.

  Now, I have to listen with a special attention and note it down, not to forget it, for he is bound to give me more hints and instructions as time goes on.

  Told him this morning that there is such a contrast between the happenings on the physical plane, where he does not speak to me, where he threatens me sometimes, where there is so much suffering and life is a constant, deep misery; and the other side of it where I only get occasional and rare glimpses—where there is stillness and peace, and time is not. I tried to define those states in my diary, to formulate them clearly into words: it is bliss composed of non-being, non-existence and perfect stillness, and when magnified a thousand times it must be Nirvana; so this state would represent the nearest condition to Nirvana on earth. He nodded gravely and emphatically with a pleased expression.

  “Yes, it is quite correct: non-being. In the Ramayana it is said:” he quoted it in Hindi and translated: “You must become less than the dust on the Lotus Feet of your Guru. Less than the dust,” he repeated, “Nirvana.”

  The mind is working so badly that it is hard work to write it all down. Have to stop from time to time and think again and again, and it takes time, sometimes a long time to remember.

  The feeling of blissful dissolution is the nearest to Nirvana, then… where are you leading me Bhai Sahib? It seems it is the road which leads beyond the stars.

  38 “Time and Space are Nothing to Us”

  Evening

  WHEN I ARRIVED AT FIVE as usual, people were sitting inside. I took a chair and seated myself under the mango tree and listened to the voices inside, to his laughter and his voice, with a ring of metal in it.

  It was the softest evening; the sun was setting gently beyond the houses on the other side of Deva Singh Park. The sky was of tender transparent gold. Kept thinking and thinking, full of apprehension for the future…. India… for how long? Then I cried a little.

  What does it cost you, I thought, not without bitterness, to let me sit inside with others? If you are alone and resting, I understand… but if others are here? Could I not sit in the room too? I don’t speak to you… you don’t speak to me… just to be able to look at you, for I will have to go soon…. So I cried. I heard him laughing, his lovely young laughter. You know how it feels, I was telling myself: you were sitting outside too, and your Rev. Guru Maharaj was inside with others. His voice must have sounded just as lovely to you, as your voice sounds to me…. Darkness fell. Mango leaves were rustling gently in the light breeze. They were drinking tea inside now; he was laughing, and others were laughing with him. It was obvious that funny stories were told. Sida Prasad came, then some more people. I took my chair and went to sit on the brick elevation outside his door. Doctor Krishna Bahadur came out; he approached and said that he stayed away because of a slight attack of angina pectoris. He did not look too good, got fatter… and I had the impression I sometimes get about people, that he will not live long…. He talked about Bhai Sahib and said that now he will come often because Guruji is well again. They all began to leave. The garden was still; something happened to the street lamps—they were not lit. Soon he came out; I fetched a chair for him; he sat down; a few more people came, and they were discussing some frontier incidents on the Tibetan border. I sat, happy to be there, even in the darkness, just to be in his presence… it was such a blessing.

  “Have you seen Dr. Krishna Bahadur?” he asked turning to me. I said I did, and I did not like the look of him. He looked inquiringly at me; I explained that it seemed to me that he is very ill; he did not look too good to me….

  “Yees,” he mused, “Angina pectoris, a nasty thing it is, is it not?

  What did he say about me?”

  “Nothing of importance, only that you did not believe in orthodox medicine, and he will come often now to give you homeopathic treatment.”

  “He was very impressed that you came to him that day.” I looked at him. “The day I was so ill-you went with Satendra… have you forgotten?”

  ”Oh, no, how can I ever forget it! We thought that you were dying; we were all terribly worried!”

  “From the Doctor’s point of view I am going,” he smiled.

  “Oh, it was only too clear to me too; it was a very near thing,” I said.

  “It will not be long.” He smiled dreamily. I looked at him; how his eyes were shining in practically complete darkness. Like two mysterious moons when reflected in the still, dark mountain lake . . those eyes-like stars they led me….

  “And how are you?” he asked suddenly after a prolonged silence.

  “I am deeply worried… cannot sleep because of worries.”

  “It will go,” he nodded slowly, “it will soon go. Where is much vibration and longing, worries will be. I am trying to do something to your mind—that all the resistance should go; not the mind, not that, but all the trouble the mind causes, will go. It does not depend on the Shishya, the Guru has to do it; it cannot be done so very quickly, and this is the only delay. But it will be done. So, the ego will go. But who wants such a thing? People love their selvesnobody wants it to go!”

  “But I do!” I exclaimed. “Did I not ask you yesterday, that I want it—otherwise I may go on the wrong path! But does not the ego automatically go when one merges into the Master?”

  “No, it does not work like that; the Teacher does it—it is not an automatic process.”

  He began to talk in Hindi to others. “I must talk to them for five minutes,” he said, and I wondered why such a politeness towards me, even to trouble
to tell me. Chinese frontier incidents were discussed. It was on everybody’s mind, a nonending topic. In a pause of the conversation I said:

  “So dreadful is the test you are subjecting me to, that I feel I have to put a condition: you must not die until I come back! I must see you for a while, stay with you for a few years!”

  “This, I will tell you when you go—there will be a hint—I cannot do it now! Some experiences have to take place when there is no physical presence. You will not have those experiences if you stay with me… it takes a long time to prepare somebody… it is not done in a few days. It took my Rev. Guru Maharaj thirty-six years to prepare me.”

  I looked at him in amazement. “So, why do you send me away? Is it not a great pity to interrupt a training?”

  “No, not at all… I told you that before. The training will not be interrupted.”

  “Even if I am so far away?”

  He nodded. Even then. Time and space are nothing to us.”

  “I am not at all sure of myself; I have a strong suspicion that once I was on the Path of Power, and I may choose again the Path of Power instead of the Path of Love.”

  “Why such adverse ideas in your head again?” he asked. “Why think of it? When you think like that Shaitan is there. It will be thrown away; whatever was, will go. Nothing will remain!”

  “And if pride will pop up on the higher level?”

  “Stop thinking!” he smiled.

  I told him that since I know that he treats me as his Rev. Guru treated him, I feel pride sometimes.

  “It is good in a way,” he said thoughtfully, “don’t worry, it will go!”

  “When I am sitting outside and hear your voice, just as you did when you were sitting ouside, I know how you must have felt…. “

  “Yes,” he said musingly, “I sat there under the mango tree; there was a thick shrub then—you don’t know how thick it was-and he was resting alone in the room. When the idea came into my head, I went to the door and looked inside; ‘Come in!’ he used to say. I never went inside without being asked.”