Daughter of Fire

by Irina Tweedie

  He was rather still, spoke quietly with people, then began to hum a song. Chowdrie was making a speech. About two he asked if I had a meal. I said that with his permission I would like to have mine at the same time as he would have his.

  “No, it will not suit you; I will have my meal after three, not before.” So, he called out to someone and I went inside. Had my meal sitting on a tachat, had very little as I could not eat. While I was eating he came past me; I stood up.

  “I have my food when everybody else has finished,” he said. I answered that I would not have minded. He made an indefinite gesture towards my food to denote that I should eat and passed on. I saw him standing in the courtyard talking to some women and children. I finished and went home. Had a rest. The vibrations were such that I could hardly remain in the lying position. The heart was thundering along; I wondered if it could be affected by such activity.

  But I remembered that he once had said that Sufis get a very strong heart because of the vibrations which sweep through it constantly, and it gets used to that.

  Went back about half past four. Had to wait a little, taking my seat right in front. He came out about five, and sat down. Somebody was singing beautifully, just before he came out, a young man with a lovely voice. He sang with deep devotion. The songs were continued for a while even when he came out. The advocate came, and important disciples, Brahmins, old followers of his father. They all made speeches, and Sannyasi too with his croaking voice. Then Guruji began to speak. He was not intoxicated as the day before, but very lively just the same, and he was explaining much. I distinctly saw light rays flashing from his eyes. He was in a belligerent mood; he picked out a disciple and ordered him to speak, but as soon as the man began, he obviously picked out some fault and began to tell him off. He asked questions and objected to every answer the disciple gave; the disciple got hotter and hotter; I had the feeling that he was sizzling; he tried to answer but was talked down every time mercilessly. At one moment Guruji must have challenged him on the question of asana and pranayam, because he sat in the kneeling asana and demonstrated his way of pranayam. I saw him taking a short breath and then becoming still, not breathing for quite a while.

  Minutes ticked away, nobody stirred. The wind flapped gently the canvas of the marquee. I was looking at him; his eyes were closed; he was not breathing at all. He was more beautiful than ever. The Great Yogi, I thought, but I began to be worried; he still was not breathing.

  How long will he hold out? He is not well after all, and he is old, and he had fever last night…. I hope nothing will happen to him….

  Ten minutes must have passed. More…. One could hear a pin drop. Everyone seemed carved out of stone. Finally after what seemed an eternity to me, he opened his eyes and said to the disciple: “Go on, do it!” The disciple began to talk rapidly, shifting uneasily, and Bhai Sahib lowered his head slightly, breathed out a short, purifying breath with a sniff, and only then began to breathe normally. All this looked so effortless, so natural, and I remembered that somebody was telling me a few months ago that when he was young he could hold his breath for half an hour.

  He was talking now, telling the assembly that it was wrong to mislead people. Obviously the disciple in question was teaching wrong ways of pranayam or something of that sort. I know he is a bit proud; he has been Bhai Sahib’s disciple for the last thirty years, and he has disciples of his own. Then Guruji was explaining something to an old man who obviously had many doubts. He said at one time and this I understood though it was in Hindi—pointing into my direction, he said:

  “She is here over one year, and she gets very little. Do you think the guru gives so quickly? You have to attend Satsang for a long time. Satsang is necessary; you have to come and sit here; in Satsang you will achieve everything. If you want to fly, you cannot; but if you pay the price for a plane ticket, you can. The price is the effort; you have to make an effort, and effort is made by Satsang.”

  I remembered that in his Guru’s place he had to sit in the most dusty place which was never swept. Everybody was commenting on that.

  “He was testing us, for we are Hindus, and it is hard for a Hindu to sit in a place considered impure. And we did not even notice it; you have to sacrifice the smaller thing for the greater.” This was the answer I got when I was telling him about the conditions in his garden, and the dirt the family of Tulsi Ram was making everywhere.

  “You may go home now,” he said turning in my direction. Just at this very moment I was thinking myself that it is getting late and I had better go home. I felt tired. All those last days I was weak and headachy, I probably was getting his condition; it was clear to me.

  “You may go home; it will be about ten now.” I obediently got up and folded my palms in greeting.

  “Go and have a rest; you had more than enough, more than enough,” he repeated smilingly, looking at me with great kindness.

  “Only Hindi was spoken. Nothing of what has been said today will be explained to you. But you have it all in your heart; not in your mind, but in your heart.”

  Two disciples were massaging his feet. I knelt down rapidly and touched his feet, my heart was so full with gratitude.

  “No, no” he said quickly, and his disciples smiled. I got up and went immediately. At home I slept like a log. Till nearly seven.

  31st January

  IN THE MORNING HE DID NOT COME OUT. I was sitting with the grandson of his Rev. Guru Maharaj, and the grandson of the Guru of his father; children were fighting on the carpet making too much dust.

  Babu told me that they will arrange a music program tonight because of the mundan (the ceremony of the hair-cutting) of Guddu and his baby sister, the children of Durghesh. The vibrations were very strong; though the gate of the Bandhara was closed at midnight, it did not seem to have affected the vibrations. Left about eleven, had a good rest. Went there about four. He was standing outside with people and came towards me. His face was yellow, and he walked like a drunken man.

  “How are you?” he asked, and I said that I was well, but he was not, it was very visible.

  “Oh, I am all right, nothing much wrong with me, but the physical body is tired.” He went inside.

  I at first sat outside but, such was the noise and the dust so many fighting children were making, that I went behind the house near the nimbu tree near his room, to hide there from the dust. The courtyard was full of women singing and drumming the traditional songs which are sung by the female members of the family when the mundan ceremony was performed or a child is born. But such was the dust that I went home. Virendra told me that the program will not begin before six. I was a bit resentful, felt so neglected; there is no room for me to even sit. Oh, fool, why are you resentful? Don’t you know that you will be sacrificed ALWAYS?

  Began to write into my diary when at home. But had no peace, wanted to go back. The desire gradually became so strong that I obeyed and went. He was sitting outside on a chair with Mr. Chowdrie, talking. I took my seat opposite. I understood why the feeling was so strong to go there. He was outside and it was like a call.

  A great vibration started suddenly in my brow Chakra. A strong powerful vibration it was, going on and on and creating a special type of headache, radiating from between the eyebrows. I was reflecting that my brow Chakra was activated, the Chakra from where orders are issued, and also received. He said once that with ladies it is not done as a rule, but sometimes an exception is made. I kept touching my forehead from time to time, but he misinterpreted my gesture and said at one moment:

  “You had better go home and have a rest, because I feel very much tired tonight. If you sit here for a long time, you will get it too.” I told him that I felt tired anyhow all the past days, and please, may I remain for the music program. He made an indefinite gesture which I interpreted as a permission to stay. The music began. It was performed by local young men, some of them really good at Tabla and Sitar. I will miss the Indian classical music when back in London.

  I
looked at him so weak and so pale and was wondering how long he will live… not very much longer, I thought, if his health does not improve. He is very weak and cannot recover properly. He got up about a quarter past ten declaring that he is going to have a hot drink and then a rest. I went home too. At home I distinctly heard the songs from the microphones in his garden and was thinking that he cannot have much rest; he did not sleep for two consecutive nights, so he had told me, and here they are making such a noise. But I suppose he could not say anything because the mundan was celebrated and at any rate he never thinks of himself…. He is always the last one….

  Fell asleep full of peace and deep love. How he enjoyed the music…. How lovely he looked when in genuine delight he kept beating time with the music, clicking his fingers with the rhythm, and exclaiming from time to time: “Wah!” or “Bohot sundar!” which in Hindi means: “Very lovely!” It was a pleasure to look at him. So Oriental, so sincere was his reaction.

  48 Took Some of His Hair

  1st February, 1963

  DECIDED LAST NIGHT to go to the bank this morning. The vibrations were terrific. Could hardly hold the mirror, my hands were trembling so much. But in the bank I managed somehow not to behave stupidly and asked all the questions I intended to ask. Went and came by rikshaw and had such a nice rikshaw driver. They usually are not, but he was so nice and gentle he charged me only six annas each way, but I gave him more of course. When the rikshaw stopped in front of his gate he was not in the garden, but I knew that he will come out to inquire why I wasn’t there this morning. He did in fact do so after I was there not more than five minutes. Told him that I went to the bank and asked if I could speak to him before I forget what the bank official told me; my mind was not working too well, such were the vibrations…. So we stood under the mango tree; I could hardly stand before him. Fancy how I cannot stand in front of him; I feel like fainting all the time, my knees give way, and I can hardly talk so breathless I get…. I gave him the information I received about the postal orders from abroad, the money I can take with me and so on. Then we sat down for a short while. He wanted to know how the Bandhara was for me. I said that it was terrific; even the physical body suffered.

  “Yes,” he nodded slowly and seriously. “This is the second time you have had the benefit of the Bandhara; the first time you did not understand…. “

  “It is not so much the question of understanding; even now I don’t understand, but last time I was full of trouble, you remember… it made a barrier. All I knew then was that you were so transfigured, so beautiful, that I looked and could not help looking, and the vibrations were tremendous but that was all…. “

  “Yes,” he nodded seriously, “yes, that was it.”

  “May I ask a small question?” He nodded, looking at his shoes.

  “Do you transmit something through your eyes?”

  “From every point of the body one transmits; it is not done deliberately, one gets used to it, it is automatic.”

  “But I think sometimes you do it deliberately,” and I told him that I saw streams of light flashing from his eyes.

  “Yes,” he said slowly, “sometimes it happens like that,” then he got up. And he went to sit with the two Mohammedans who were sitting near his brother’s room. I knew he wouldn’t come back. He did not. Panditji appeared and beckoned to me to go away because the marquee was being dismantled and was going to be crashed down. I saluted him from afar and went to Pushpa. In the afternoon he said in passing that he slept a little last night, just a few hours, and felt a bit better. I saw him coming and going; he had no rest at all in the afternoon. People were departing and Durghesh also left her children and husband when I was there. I went home early and fell asleep praying and full of love.

  2nd February

  WOKE UP EARLY. The peace was absolute. When I began to drink my coffee the vibrations started strongly, and when I was sitting in his garden it was remarkable how strong they were. I prayed in my heart that he should not cut his hair in the afternoon when I am not there. I wanted a bit of his hair. I believe it will protect me when I am away.

  He was talking to some people who were still here from the Bandhara. Half an hour later the barber arrived. Well, my prayer was accepted. When the barber began his work, I watched if some hair fell on the towel the barber covered him with. Yes, some did. When a few larger bits fell off on it, I took a piece of paper, it happened to be the program of the Bandhara, stood up and went to his chair: “May I take those?” I asked, pointing to the bits of hair on his knees. “It will protect me when I am not here.” He gave me a brief smile.

  “Why do I need to give you the permission?” He asked with half-closed eyes, for little bits of hair were falling from his forehead, covering his face, while the barber was clipping with his scissors.

  “So I may take them?” He nodded. I picked up the hair with the paper without touching it with my hands. Put it in my bag. Was very pleased. I wanted it. It will help me. As soon as the hair was cut, he went inside. I offered to pay the barber but he arranged it differently.

  The barber left. I understood; he wanted it to be a gift; I must not pay; if I would not have taken the hair pieces, perhaps he would have allowed me to pay.

  In the afternoon when I came he sat with his family and the few disciples who are still here from the Bandhara. I went to sit under the mango tree. All the time I was sitting there I noticed a great activity in the brow Chakra. It gave me this special type of headache radiating from the middle of the forehead. An uneasiness was there, the vibration was going strong in it, a sort of ant-creepy feeling was in it too, and a kind of tension. I was watching it with interest. The pain in the head was not much, rather of a nagging sort. I also noticed a vibration to a lesser degree in the throat Chakra. In the morning the vibration was in the heart Chakra only. Nowadays the vibrations are never in the Muladhara Chakra as before. They never are below the waistline. Until dark we were sitting outside. He was dressed very smartly in white narrow Indian style trousers and steel-blue kurta in which he was photographed. Two Brahmins came and he stood up: “Do you prefer to stay here or go home?” I said that I would like to stay if he allows me. So we all went into the room. He looked radiant; he obviously felt better. One of the Brahmins was singing songs of Kabir. He was praising the Brahmin and was exclaiming : “Wah, wah!” Later he put both Brahmins in Dhyana. It must have been for the first time, I think, because he behaved just as he did, when in summer, he put one young man in Dhyana. Sitting cross,legged and looking at their higher vehicles, from time to time going off into a deep state. Seven men were in the room—all of them were in Samadhi, some of them were disciples. I watched everything with interest and wondered…. New calendars were on the walls. I noticed that the freshly painted wall was badly scratched in one place near the ceiling and I wondered what had caused it. When the Brahmins had left, he chattered for a bit with Happy Babu, then asked him what time it was.

  “You can go now,” he said. I stood up, folded my palms, and went out without a word. The vibration in between the eyebrows was still strong. Fell asleep tired but happy.

  Woke up before five. The peace was eternal. Endless was the love.

  It was still quite dark, and the constellation of the Great Bear was just above my head. It is seen in the mornings nowadays. The fragrance in the air was so remarkable, so much so that I got up and went outside to investigate from where it came. But in the Ghose’s garden was no fragrance whatsoever. It obviously did not come from the garden bi.It from somewhere else. My courtyard was full of it. Never before was love so burning at this time in the morning. It was blazing. Early in the morning, there is usually only a feeling of great longing and deep peace. Never such a current of love. The vibration was not very intense, but the love was really tremendous. Prayed looking to the stars, had such a longing for Him, such a tender longing. The stars were huge and near.

  When sitting in his garden could hardly bear the influx of Shakti.

  The body suf
fered and I had to sit bent forward to be able to bear it more or less. All around everything seemed so strange as if I had never seen it before…. When he came out, the vibrations increased, as usual. He began to speak on Buddhism in English and said that the Europeans don’t know anything at all and he never knew one who could know something. Even the learned Buddhists who were here could never answer a question properly. The first question one asked them, why did they embrace Buddhism?, they cannot answer.

  “I can answer that, but only for myself: I was attracted to Buddhism because I did not believe in God, and the idea of the Eternal Law appealed to me. A personal God seemed a laughable conception; the idea of just a Law, of the Void, was so much more satisfying.” A discussion on Buddhism followed of which I can’t remember much. The mind did not work and I said so when he asked me a few questions. He laughed.

  “Never mind, don’t bother,” he said kindly.

  Later I told him the dream I had before the Bandhara: I saw him dressed this time in a dark coat (unusual, because in my dreams he always wears white), and he was telling me in a stern way: “You must stop using lipstick.”

  “I know, I know, but I am so used to it,” I was answering.

  “From now on you must be quite simple,” he was saying in my dream.

  “Well, and did you stop using it?” he asked.

  ”No, I still have it as you can see,” I said, feeling guilty. “But I did not think that the meaning could be interpreted literally; I thought that it meant something else.” He nodded.

  “But why use lipstick? If you don’t want to attract men, why use it?”

  “But we don’t do it to attract men; it is a question of habit; if the face is not made up somehow I feel as if I would not be properly dressed.”

  “I don’t ask you to stop using it, but I don’t like it. Women in my household don’t use it.”

  “I understand habit is not a good thing; I will stop it from tomorrow.”