Wait till the need is no more; then you can teach, and only then there will be success.
“The road to Him is to forget all knowledge, to leave all preoccupations behind, to forget; put yourself into His hands, trust; and YOU WILL KNOW.”
To be after knowledge is to create a veil between Him and me.
Even this has to go. The less one desires the better. It is the desire which prevents us from perceiving the Hint. It clouds our perception.
“Were the Church Fathers not very wise after all to suppress all the ideas of reincarnation? Because otherwise we will not make the effort in this life! Why not realize here and now in this life? Why think of later? Only the moment of NOW matters; the future is far away …. True, we all work for the future, ultimately, what else?; otherwise you wouldn’t be here but think of NOW ONLY; forget the tomorrow.” How right he was again…. And the longing, the longing, oh, how it burns today….
When I came, he was standing in the doorway talking to some people. Then he came out dressed in a thin longhi and a singlet. Cold wind was blowing. It had become cool for the last few days. I was horrified and asked him if I could bring a blanket; he had fever for three days. No, he said, he wanted no blanket. And he sat there for two solid hours, listening to a horrid, ugly, selfish man who kept talking about his courtcase like a machine gun. And he sat there dressed in nothing to speak of, the wind playing with his dhotie and blowing it around his feet. Finally I could not bear it, stood up and asked him to move his chair in the sun or to allow me to bring his blanket. No, he shook his head. “No, I don’t want one.” You make my life an agony, I thought sadly, and went to buy bread. When passing by I saw him still sitting in the same place in the shade, in the cold wind, the man still talking and talking…. Went home in utter sadness. Oh, the longing today… burning high. If I have it like this in England, there will be no danger that the cold ashes of everyday life will ever bury this fire….
21st February
HE DID NOT COME OUT last night, of course. He had high fever. No wonder, after having been dressed as he was, sitting in the cold wind in the morning… I sat there full of sadness, and Babu told me that his father will not come out, so he is sending this message for me. But I did not expect him to come out at any rate. So much longing was in the night, and I prayed for his health. But He does not listen to me when I pray for his health, even if I offer my own in exchange for his…. Obviously he has to suffer to some extent. Great is the nearness to him and to God and I don’t know who is who… the Great Beloved or the Guru??
22nd February
DR. BANNERJI CAME TO SEE HIM this morning. He keeps having fever since the 28th of January, Virendra told me. But he came out shortly afterwards looking not too bad. I gazed at him, wondering how can a human being look so glorious…. Pale, ashy, his color was so delicate, as if transparent with inner light. Was thinking, looking at him, that something was done which made love different. There is a different dimension about it. Either he again increased it or some more veils were removed so that love can shine through. For it is somehow different. Such a restless longing which is like nagging pain. And the weeping when I am in his presence gets worse. Cannot help it and cannot stop it… like a compulsion… so full is my heart…. The nights are shimmering with stars; prayer is easy. He is near, quite near, and I can talk to Him, and I ask Him to make me realize Him soon. And it is a dialogue as if of two lovers, and the longing and the love, and then the mind goes somewhere and I am not.
This morning the impact of Shakti was such that I began to cry as soon as he came out. The light of my eyes, you are, I was thinking, and I have to go soon. As beautiful as the morning star and I won’t see you…. What punishment is love. I did not want to speak to him, did not want anything from him, just to be able to look, to impress his image in my mind…. I have to tell him my dream but there is plenty of time… if I have the chance. Today he will not speak to me; he will go inside as soon as the man will leave. And so it was. When the man had left, he sat for one minute or two, looking far away; he was very much aware of the fact that I was thinking how wonderful he looked. His face was expressionless, very lovely. A Deva, I thought, not a human being at all…. Then he got up and went inside. I too went to write this bit down; today I am with Pushpa, so will have no time to write in the afternoon. Some trees are flowering, giving out a delicate and subtle fragrance. And the call of the woodpecker is going on ceaselessly.
I put on my nice velvet twin set and the pleated skirt; when I go to Pushpa I had better look decent. Spring is in the air. Rather summer.
And the longing is such that it pains the physical heart. And You are near, and You are far and You are all I want, all my world, my only longing. And I don’t know who is who… Guru or God??
I had better write down my dream; I don’t remember it well. I only remember that I was telling other people pointing to a thick book: “In this book here is everything about his System. He gave it to me, I need not worry!” I knew in my dream that he gave me the book; it was mine and I need not be concerned about knowledge. But how he gave it to me is not clear. Only the book was clear; it was a thick volume bound in hardboard cover with heavy lines of yellow and it seemed blue. And it was new, which is surprising, really, a book on his System would be an old one, would it not? And I was pleased in my dream about the book which was mine.
Also a few days ago just as I was waking up in the morning, I saw the sun in the shape of an egg. The upper half was of the color of the sun, that is golden, but the lower half was of the most glorious magenta red. It is surprising, the vivid colors one sees like that. But as soon as I became completely conscious, and the mind took over, I was surprised to see the sun like that and it vanished of course immediately. But when I closed my eyes again, such was the light inside my eyes and inside my brain from the sun which was no more there, that everything in my brain was illumined by it. When I opened my eyes there was, of course, no light, just the dawn as it always is. I wonder what meaning can it have to see the sun like this?
In the afternoon when sitting there I saw a youngish man arrive on a motorcycle. He had a small bag under his arm and I thought that he looked like a doctor. He was. He came out after half an hour, much talking to him in the room. The wife was also inside. With great noise the motorcycle went. Quite suddenly I felt enormous peace… such peace… all will be well…. He is going, it is true, he is fading away. But he will not die until I come back; he will finish the training. All will be well…. I was full of stillness. I want You so much, can it be that You let me down? No. It cannot be. He cannot go if the training is not finished. I will see him. Went home early.
Longing was so great in the night….
23rd February
HE HAD HIGH FEVER all day long. But at least he takes some medicine now. At least, so Virendra told me.
So much longing…. Last night he had 102°. My heart was aching. What an agony it is to sit outside and hear him cough the painful dry cough… am sick with worry and apprehension….
Chowdrie did arrive. Saw Guruji pottering in his room in the afternoon.
25th February
SENT THROUGH MUNSHIJI the chit (note) about money to him. How I hated doing it, God knows, but I have to pay the rent… left soon.
At Pushpa’s place such a heartbeat, and such longing to turn the heart inside out…. When I went to him in the afternoon, the wife made me a sign to go in. Went in and was horrified to see how weak he looked and how grey; he was lying on the bed, a wet compress on his forehead. My heart fell. He quickly gave me the money, but Babu rushed in to see why I was called in and began to talk, and the wife talked and I stood there looking at him full of pity….
Then I said that I hope that he will be better soon—“Yes, yes,” he said. Babu was talking, so I went out, sat down and cried. Satendra was making stupid remarks trying to be witty. And the wife was talking and some Indian ladies went inside. Poor man, he never has a moment for himself…. Did not sit long in the gar
den. Preparations for a wedding were going on opposite; tomorrow hell will break loose from the microphones…. Poor Bhai Sahib… he looks dying now! How CAN he survive for the years I am away????
26th February
HAD A PEACEFUL NIGHT. About eleven had a CALL. The usual one. It is such a delightful feeling; the whole body relaxes and I go to sleep in a moment. In the morning was thinking of him so pale so breathless.
The vibrations were moderate.
He came out this morning. I did not expect it. As usual my heart at first stood still as he suddenly appeared. He was very pale, and he looked absolutely glorious. And then the wild heartbeat started. I went and sat in the shade of the mango tree, a bit further away. I wanted to look at him from not too near. The light around him was so interesting, I wanted to assess it from afar. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, as if he knew why I was sitting away from him. I knew that he was sitting there just to test me if I wanted to speak. But I had no such intention. Wanted only to look at him. He kept combing his beard with his fingers as he does often when he is thinking. When everybody had left, he was still sitting there thinking his quiet thoughts. Do sufferings make one more beautiful? I wondered. In his case it seemed so… Peace remained with me. I felt happy. Looking to the right and to the left, he was not in Samadhi. I was smiling inside myself; I will not address you, I thought, I know what you expect….
In the evening sitting there, Peace was mine. Sweetest peace, and I touched just the fringe of the most unbelievable happiness… just a little of it. There was no end of it, and one day it will be mine… mine forever….
A wedding was going on, two bands were playing, the loudspeakers, were roaring, but it did not bother me. Such was the Peace.
Satendra came and asked me a question: “God can create anything?”
“Yes,” I said, “anything absolutely!”
“So he can create a stone?”
“He can.”
“Can He touch it?”
“No, how can He? He has no hands!”
“Good answer!” he said: “God is a Power, how can He touch it?”
In the fading evening light, with the moon two days old in the sky, I sat there enveloped in a musical din, full of peace… full of tenderness.
Somehow the idea that He is a Power made me feel so tender. You a Power, a Great Power, the Power whom I love and Who loves me.
Many people were inside the room. I heard him talk and I heard him cough, his painful dry cough. But he seemed to be without fever because he was sitting in the chair and not lying as he does as a rule when he is not well.
Guru Maharaj… my deep reverence for you. My dearest, my glorious Guru Maharaj…. He was right: the Guru is not a friend, how can he be? Not a father, never a beloved. Guru is Guru, the Great Master… and nothing else. Not a human relationship at all.
27th February
HE HAS FEVER IT SEEMS. I get really discouraged. Did not see him.
Evening
THE LONGING IN THE AFTERNOON WAS TERRIBLE. Those Sufi Masters, they know their job… to put such a longing into a human heart… it breaks the bones. When sitting behind the nimbu tree, trying to hide from the noise of the wedding, I felt such a peace and such longing that the heart was streaming out endlessly. There is a special peace in this corner near his room; the side door and the windows face this side.
Please, don’t die… I want Him so badly… what will I do if you are not… I cannot reach Him by myself. But once I am one with you, your death will not matter too much. I will be able to reach you always….
At first there was such a pain and longing, then such love. I was burning with it… it was as endless as the sky. Lovely peaceful corner, so secluded. Went away when it began to be dark. The music was too much and the drums. He seems to cough less. He came out for a moment and looked at the sky. I stood up. He made a sign with the hand to sit down. Went inside immediately. He looked so grand, so smartly dressed, all in white…. Please… don’t die… wait for me… when I come back… don’t go without me. When I become you, then you can go, then you will be free…. Do not go now, dear Guru Maharaj….
Vibrations are strong tonight… but not too strong.
28th February
IN THE MORNING WHEN I WOKE UP ABOUT FOUR there were no vibrations at all… strange. I am used to so many of them. It felt funny to hear my own heartbeat slow and soft. And I was thinking, looking up to the brilliant stars, that such was my desire for Him that I will accept anything from the Guru without rebellion. This egg business, for instance. Mrs. Ghose gave me one egg every day from her hens. I brought it to him, thinking that he will need it more than I do. The hens stopped laying and only now I came to know that he does not take eggs. But nobody told me so. I deprived myself, brought it to him with such pleasure thinking that he will take it and it will help him for he is so weak. But some of his too well nourished children probably got it every morning…. My diet is so scanty, I think I would have needed it more than they…. But no, it is a wrong attitude… sacrifice is sacrifice. What is an egg? Thousands of pounds went, and I will grudge an egg? It is a little thing. Let them eat it.
I was continuing to think on those lines sitting in his garden. I won’t cheat. Everything will go, every sacrifice will be made… even to the people who don’t need it, even if I am not allowed to do it for him…. He wants it so I will do it. I won’t cheat God, and I know He will not cheat me, when the time comes…. And in this moment the heart made a thump. All of a sudden the world became a crazy dream, so I knew that it was a spiritual constipation as he told me some time ago, and each time after that I will make a jump forward. While I was still reflecting upon it, the servant appeared with his chair. He came out in fact immediately. He was pale yellow, with hollow cheeks. Looked so thin and tired. He began to talk in Hindi, but mostly he kept quiet because his brother never stopped talking, on the Chinese question, frontier incidents, politics…. I was looking at him; he looked around with a vacant look. His eyes had a glow like burning coals, deep-set and fiery. Did not feel like speaking to him at all… simply because everything has been said.
And I had nothing to ask either, even the desire for knowledge is a veil between him and me. Those are the reasons, so it seemed to me, but perhaps something was done that it became like this. Love has drowned it, perhaps.
Had to move my chair and go further, because the garden was swept by a jamodar (sweeper) with a large broom making the most dreadful dust. So while it lasted, I took my chair and sat behind him.
Such were the waves of love that he must have felt it I am sure. Deep, tremendous, endless…. Then I sat again further away from him when the jamodar had finished. He did look at me from time to time, a long, earnest, unsmiling look. Nigam came and gave him a small rose. He took it, smelled it, and was holding it in his hands. I wanted this rose and was wondering if he will give it to me as he did this summer…. But no, he will NOT give it to me. It was a small pink rose. He was turning it between his fingers. From time to time I had to close my eyes. Was thinking that it was interesting how the feeling of nothingness seems to increase as the time goes on. I had it more or less always with him, but now it is deeper. Sweet it is… the great nearness to him, like a secret complicity of which nobody knows. I want to be nothing. The greatest bliss is in Nothingness….
Everybody left one after another. I remained sitting where I was.
He got up, moved the chair into the shade, and then stood. not far from where I was sitting for a short while looking at nothing in particular. Then he threw the rose into the dust, turned and went inside. I got up quickly and took the rose before he could open the door of the room and catch me doing it. It smelled sweet, and I was holding it in my closed hand feeling the cool petals against my skin.
Sweet smelling flower… he had it in his hands. He knew, of course, that I wanted it—that’s why he threw it away so deliberately.
How wonderful he looked, so thin, but I heard him cough again, and I went home with a
heavy heart….
Evening
BEHIND THE HOUSES on the other side of Deva Singh Park the sun was setting serenely in a sea of gold. Inside the room I heard others talking to him. I was sitting outside his door, looking at the light fading in deep yellow and the first stars appearing. A happiness, vast, complete, endless, was with me. Thank you, my dear, for sacrificing me like this…. Sacrifice… how sweet it can be! Old girl, do you know what Glory this sacrifice could mean for you? Old girl, do you know what future he is preparing for you? What he wants to do with me, I think I’ve known since March a year ago… though it only sank deep into my consciousness now…. Thank you, my dear, with all my heart. With all the deepest respect and love I say: Thank you! No words will ever be adequate to express what I am feeling at this moment. A happiness so great, so limitless, a completely new kind of happiness. A never experienced joy of COMPLETE sacrifice… and no resentment, and no regret…. Thank you, in stillness. with folded hands, I thank you….
This happiness is like the sound of an organ, a tremendous fugue, full and rich. Since I have been here I have experienced for the first time this kind of rich happiness… to be sacrificed for love… it is great, it is complete. Do you know, old thing, do you know where you are going? Where you are being taken?
Did he do something to my mind last night when I woke up with the idea that such is my desire for Him that I will accept anything? Or was it the result of days, months of longing?
It is a fugue of Joy. I am going with you. I am going to You in full understanding this time. This time I seem to KNOW.
There is a young moon in the sky. The dusk descends slowly, gently, the sky is still pale orange in the west. Old girl, do you know?
Whispers my heart… yes, I know. Have you any words left for gratitude? No, I have none…. And so it came that the suffering of the sacrifice became gratitude and joy. The suffering was the fire, the sacrificial fire. Go ahead, Bhai Sahib, the more the better… I hope it will not hurt anymore….
Daughter of Fire Page 55
