Above the mango tree stood Orion in all its splendor. What date is it today? 28th February. Today is an important day; I feel I have passed a turning point. The road turned once more. Now (I hope) I will go like a slippery snail, right ahead… right to the Goal. It happened in the silent, darkening garden: the first impact of happiness, risen like a Phoenix from the ashes of pain…. Two people were sitting in Dhyana, no noise, no music… all was still.
Only dogs barked far away and the traffic went as usual. I heard him sweep his room; later he sat near the door talking softly to his wife. I KNEW that he knew…. Of course, after all, he gave it to me. I was thinking that he will proceed to test me now.
I will pray….
51 Forebodings: The Killer Instinct
2nd March, 1963
HAD TO FLIT THE ROOMS because they were full of sleeping mosquitoes. And while I was flitting, I began to think. His tone was harsh; he insisted on his illness as if to cause me worry. And he is breathless when he speaks, to the extent that he is forced to stop, unable to continue. But when people come, he speaks to them for long hours, tiring himself out. With me he insists on his illness; perhaps he thinks that I cannot rebel with a sick man… or perhaps to cause me more worry. But why should he do that? At first I thought it is improbable, but then I wasn’t so sure…. Anything to cause suffering will do… and this is a very effective thing—he knows how concerned I am because of the state of his health. God knows, I had better be careful… and never forget, for goodness sake, that it is a test! And suddenly, quite out of the blue, I had the idea that he may send me away in angry mood… must take everything without rebellion. Not everybody is treated like this… it is for the few…. For Lord’s sake, remember it, old girl… don’t make a fool of yourself! He may be quite rude, quite in keeping with the ancient tradition, where the Shishya is thrown out for no reason at all! Careful! God will help me! He will do EVERYTHING, old girl, everything with you now. Better be careful as never before.
In the afternoon such were the vibrations causing a vomiting condition. Decidedly it is a difficult day for me.
Yes, it is a bad day. In the evening sat there for a long time. Many people were inside; I heard much laughter. People like the horrible Pandit who don’t mean anything to him, who don’t even respect him properly….
He complained to me that he has to speak; and I constantly heard his voice, telling jokes, laughing, just being merry…. Heavier became my heart… I resolved to sit it out and wait till they had left.
They should see me sitting outside alone in the darkness before the closed door…. They came out and pretended not to see me, passed by, talking to each other. I hope they felt guilty. Behind them he closed the door of the room with a bang. He saw me, of course, sitting there in the moonlight…. Went home and cried…. I say the more the better; but when he does even a small thing to which I should be used to by now, I cannot bear it. So difficult it seems. So, I prayed much in the evening, to be helped because I cannot do it alone…. So much I want you, so much. You know how sincere my heart is; still love is not great enough, otherwise I would not suffer…. Such are the difficulties with my small self that I cannot do it alone. Help me! Oh, help me… I cry to You.
4th March
IN THE MORNING I KILLED THREE MOSQUITOES which got caught into the net somehow. They have been eating all night…. The depression was great, the pain of love so deep and of no end. Kept thinking, how will I live without him for years? It seemed impossible….
I was thinking that there are two definite things: one is love, and the other the pain of love, the longing. Just when I wake up, before the mind takes over, I always know which of those two is “ON”: either love, tremendous, breaking the heart with its power; or the pain of love, which is such a longing, such a distress; it tears away all my inside… I seem to bleed.
As soon as the mind takes over on complete awakening, one of those two states in the waking consciousness is present in a subdued way, as it is usual in the physical consciousness, that is, in the brain.
Outside the physical awareness, outside the function of the brain, the feelings are so strong, so exaggerated, if one may put it so, the vibrations of love or the pain of love are such that they cannot be tolerated for a long period of time in the physical body without damaging it; they are far too strong.
This morning the pain of love is being switched on… and… oh dear, it is quite something; the human being is helpless in its grip.
Helpless, swayed with all sorts of feelings, it can only submit and tolerate them. In this state, I think there can be no question of free will. One is dominated, like possessed…. What power he has… for it is the Teacher who regulates the influx and the intensity of this Power…. Or is He, the Real Master? He the Infinite who, because a few veils have been removed, can flash His Ray into the Soul? Who knows? Sitting in his garden I prayed. It was all I could do. I am unable to do it by myself… please, help…. The heart was so full of the deepest longing….
When he came out he was severe and indifferent. One of his young disciples sat there staring at me. I felt annoyed. Then I began to think how will I live for years without my Teacher… a mystery to me…. I was filled with terrible hatred against everybody remaining here with him who would be able to see him, and I was banned from his presence. Only looking at him one became worried; how will he survive, reduced as he is? And I sat there hating deeply and darkly. Chowdrie left. I quite expected that he will get up and go inside, but he remained sitting. All of a sudden my heart began its acrobatics, so I knew something was being done to it—that’s why he was still sitting there…. The feeling of loneliness began to deepen noticeably. He called the ironing man who came into the courtyard, and he went inside taking his towel. I sat alone and began to weep.
Terrible was the loneliness. Such a life of deepest misery. After a while I noticed that he was standing behind the chik. Was he sizing me up? Of course he knew how I felt… he always does. Wept for a while, then went home. And I prayed and cried, breaking down with nameless despair. Did some sewing just to do something. Made some entries into my diary. Like a monkey in the hands of a monkey seller, I am…. What is done to the human being?… if only people knew. The idea people have of spiritual life… if they only knew how much sorrow, how much heartache…. Went to Pushpa and the whole afternoon felt terribly lonely. Guests were there from Lucknow; much talk was going on.
At his place stayed for a short time. Could not sit in the garden… the dust storm began. His room was full of laughing men. Heard his laughter ringing with merriment. You laugh, I thought, and how will it be for me in London when the Western life will close tightly around me? How will I live?? Lonely and miserable, I went home. The storm filled the streets with the dust; the eyes were smarting. Went to bed without food. The body was tired and weary, a nagging pain in the heart….
5th March
THERE ARE HARDLY ANY VIBRATIONS this morning. He was inside and did not come out. In the afternoon a storm was approaching. Love was like hot iron inside my heart. Kept crying. Chowdrie said to me: “You keep out? One does not need permission to get in!” I said that in my case it was different. What do they know of the treatment I get; what do they know of burning…. The lightning began, all went, and he said to me: “You can also go.” I cried going home, thinking if he had any pity for me….
6th March
NO VIBRATIONS. He came out early; I went there at half past eight and he was already walking up and down. He hardly nodded distractedly when I greeted him… and went inside. I don’t remember the afternoon. I did not go to his place; a storm was blowing and I was lying on my bed.
I don’t know where the hours have gone.
13th March
THERE WAS NOTHING TO TELL except terrible pain in the heart… longing, and longing again so terrible that I cried non-stop. And he was inside with others and I was outside, and I felt like a lonely wolf howling to the moon ….
Was sorry when Prof. Batnagar came a
nd went inside, for he speaks English, and when he is here I have the chance to speak a little.
He is sympathetic and interested in me. Sometimes he asks how I am and I am glad of a little attention; it is difficult to sit, unloved, unnoticed…. But he remained inside and I sat outside the door.
Much merriment was inside, much laughter. It is useless; the less rebellious I am, the quicker it will be over. It is not long anymore… soon I will be gone and the burning days of Kanpur will be over.
The professor came out when it was dark already, and Guruji came out too. He was coughing and moaning softly, and I was thinking sadly, don’t speak and laugh so much and you will cough less. When he talks so much (and he does it against the doctor’s orders), he coughs… so why does he do it? He looked unfriendly, spoke for a long time with the wife, and she never stopped talking.
Hatred against everybody was terrible. Dark, deep, killing hatred… at home I wept. Could murder everybody. I knew that he came out when it was dark purposefully, that I should not see him. Felt resentful, and cried in bed. I was tired of the same story… illtreatment for over a year… tired and weary. The same story of harshness and of hurting. Always. Will it NEVER end?? and I cried, and the pain in the heart was such, and so endless was the despair, that I could not bear it.
I sat up panting. I will die of it, I surely will… so I cried for a long time looking to the stars. A crazy thing this love: the incredible thing… could it be called spiritual life? If it is, what do you know of it… oh, all of you, who speak so glibly of spirituality and spiritual life? What do you know of the pain of it? “And the glory of it,” said the heart softly…. So incongruous, so strange, so out of the usual from the point of view of the world… and to explain it? How can one? Who will believe it?
Then I felt some peace and fell asleep. After all, I love You who live in my heart so much. You will do with me what You like. Can I really protest in earnest? I cannot. But there are moments when it seems so difficult, almost unbearable to bear… when the misery of everything connected with this incredible love overcomes me. The miserable life, the pain of unending sorrow. He said that in my case he behaved differently, for sometimes they don’t look at their disciples for years….
How can they bear it? They must be very strong; perhaps for the Orientals it is more easy, for us it is more difficult… who knows?
He is helping everybody. He helped Bogroff, so he said, therefore he had very little trouble with his mind…. But he does not want to help me… it is evident….
This morning he did not come out at all, was pottering about in his room, arranging the shelves, dusting the books. Hardly a hygienic occupation with this cough of his….
Left soon… will go to the hospital in the early afternoon to get injections. Got a letter from the bank yesterday telling me that the money has already been sent to India.
So events march on, in steady progression. And I am so full of misery that even to try to express it or to write it down is useless.
When entering my semi-dark room, still blinking after the blinding glare of the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of a mouse scampering under the bed. A sudden fury seized me. Wait, I thought, that will be the end of you…. I quickly closed the doors to both communications rooms. Got hold of a broom. In a vain attempt to escape, the mouse was wheeling around the room jumping up the walls, squeeking, while I was chasing it mercilessly. But the more it tried to escape, the hotter my hatred, my fury became. Beside myself, I kept hitting and missing and hitting, till at last it fell down, but I kept beating, hammering at it lying there already dead, till it was reduced to a bloody poultice on the concrete floor ….
Only then I stopped dead. Horrified. I looked at the mess. Why?
Why this uncontrollable fury rising in me, and for what?—for a little mouse who entered my room perhaps in search of food, in the hope to find something… because like everybody else in India I keep all my provisions in tins and there was no food for it anywhere. The magnitude of this feeling was disproportionate to that occasion; it had absolutely no justification, if there could ever be a justification for fury ….
The truth was that I became afraid of myself, of my own reactions.
For a long time I stood and stared, almost afraid to move… then fetched a rag and a pail, some disinfectant, and began to clear up the mess. Washed the floors of both rooms and the veranda… the acrid smell of disinfectant made me sneeze. And then stood for a long time staring at the broom, the cold water from the tap running over it…. How much evil is hidden in us?… I realized, of course, that the intensity of feeling was such that I could have easily killed a human being… and with the pleasure of destruction into the bargain. And for no reason at all, just as there was no reason to generate such a cataract of emotions all because of a tiny creature caught in my room….
I suddenly realized that I knew nothing of me, of the real me, somewhere I could not reach with my conscious understanding. And I was ashamed. Perplexed. And very much afraid.
Must tell him. Why did it happen at all?
14th March
HE CAME OUT THIS EVENING. He was praying silently. I sat there full of misery. Have no strength to resist, to fight the depression….
Physically was also low because of the anti-cholera injection. But gradually, sitting there I began to feel a kind of sorrowful stillness, a sort of resignation. I was sure he did something to my heart, but I did not feel any vibration, nor a different heartbeat as it usually happens when he does something.
The night was full of restless dreams.
15th March
I SAW SATENDRA STROLLING TOWARDS ME soon after I arrived. “Father says you can go home if you want; Poonam has smallpox.”
I said that I was vaccinated, and I remained seated. I was alone.
Nobody came. Soon he came out looking very pale. I asked how Poonam was, and if she will be sent to an isolation hospital. He lifted his eyebrows.
“She will be all right; I gave her a glass of water.”
But he himself looks as weak as a kitten. He will die. Only God knows with what feelings I will go back….
Told him about the mouse incident. He nodded gravely.
“Sometimes it happens like that. Certain powers are aroused in the human being, and they bring out all the evils, like dirty bubbles of foam appearing on the surface of the water when the mud at the bottom is stirred up. It is not bad,” he added, continuing to pray.
Not bad… good heavens… I could have killed. I know now I CAN KILL, and he says that it is not bad. Of course I knew what he meant; it is good that it comes out. This is the way how to get rid of it.
Was under the nimbu tree, the room was full of people. My heart was so heavy. The day will come, the day is bound to come when you will speak to me alone… when you will be alone with me, as a Presence in my heart….
But this day is not yet…. One day there will be no people with horrible voices, no family members interrupting, no servants, no crowd. You and I will be together, in silence, alone… and the door will be closed for everybody…. Only I am not sure that the language you will speak to me will be the language of this world… and the door will not be the door of this world….
He came out when it was dark and I did not see him. Mosquitoes kept biting me… went home leaving them all still sitting outside.
No vibrations. But the mind seems to be all right; it does not give trouble.
16th March
TODAY I TOLD HIM ABOUT THE HATRED which bothers me and worries me; it is so deep and so strong.
“It is pride. You think yourself better than the others and you hate them.”
And here I was thinking that it is the other side of love; the parallel current of it: and it was simply pride! How deluded one can become!
But what to do?
“It will go away,” he smiled. “Things are done slowly.” And left it at that. “I speak only as I am directed and only as much as I am told, not a word more. When does Gold Ore b
ecome pure Gold? When it is put through a process of fire. So the human being during the training becomes as pure as Gold through suffering. It is the burning away of the dross. I told you that Suffering has a great redeeming quality. Like a drop of water falling on the desert sand is sucked up immediately, so we have to be: nothing and nowhere, we must disappear.”
Evening
WENT TO THE BANK WITH HIM. He wanted me to come. The money arrived telegraphically, so he had forms to sign. Waited for him outside for a long time. He is so weak….
He was talking to me kindly this afternoon. For one month he did not do so. One month… it did pass and it did not matter, really… it is better so. Told him my dream and the vision, the sun eggshaped and half-gold, half-magenta red. But he did not comment on it at all. In conversation he said: “The little you know, it will be enough for you to speak on it for years. Like the child who sucks the milk of its mother and becomes strong and grows, so the disciple absorbs from the Guru. The disciple is nourished with the essence of the Guru. You will know when needed.”
He was pacing up and down and I was walking beside him for a while. People came but he was talking to me telling me about Chowdrie. When I remarked that he has not much love in his heart he said: “Yes, those who lead no family life become a little dry. But he sticks, so he has been taken to a certain level. People are taken to different levels.”
Later he said: “Yes, you have work to do. Training is something which you acquire; talent or ability is something which you cannot help having, as a cock cannot help crowing. But training is something different—it changes the human being. Some sort of doubt will always remain. The mind is made this way…. “
This morning, before we went to the bank, a woman was sitting there, and she had the most horrible voice, never stopped talking. It is incredible how much they can talk, Indian men and women! And the voices they have! I rarely heard a good speaking voice.
Daughter of Fire Page 56
