Posted By Author on April 26, 2011


Dressed in the morning and went to village Chunni to fetch milk.  On way back I fell down and bruised but luckily milk was intact.  I shook off the inertia and continued to tread the footpath.  After Baba’s early meal he called us in his hut.  His lust to perceive current affairs was fantastic. For example from the National Herald he dictated a short review as follows:

Thomas Jefferson on democracy, Edited by Saul K. Padavour, New American Library, Price seventy-five cents. The book contains some very important letters of President Jefferson dealing with democracy. ”Baba was a great lover of books. In every newspaper he would scrutinse list of books and book-reviews.

Baba told me to get this book for him.  Then naturally discussion followed on democracy.  He emphasized, “Suresh, present day democracy needs aggressive spiritualism. You cannot persuade them to accept spiritualism. It will have to be thrust upon them.”

In discussion of other topics, he explained as to how a delicious mango was named, as ‘Fazli’.  Once an European officer was riding on a horse.  Weary and thirsty due to intense heat, he entered a house and asked for a glass of water.  A little girl was the only person in the house.  As per custom she hesitated to offer water on empty stomach. So she served him a mango from a tree in her yard. The officer loved very much the taste of the mango from the tree in her yard. He asked her as to what was her name and she told ‘Fazali’.  The officer sent his workers and multiplied the mango variety by grafting.  He named the mango as Fazli, which is very well known in India, especially in Bengal.

Another story:  Once a commissioner was on official tour.  In one village he came across a lame ‘pir’, a religious title to a saintly person amongst Muslims. He offered a mango to the European Commissioner. He fancied the taste of the mango.  He multiplied that mango by grafts and named it as ‘Langda’ meaning lame.  This variety is also known throughout India even today. Ripe mango remains green.

Baba always had an eagle’s eye and meticulous examination. He pointed out that Shomu’s letter dated 23rd had a postal stamp on the envelop of 27th.  He inferred that because Shomu was late in writing he played a mischief by putting  earlier date.  He then observed, “This tendency is bad.  If one behaves immoral in small things, he can do so in big things.  Smallest things are generally neglected but they are the seeds of immorality in big things.  The principal of the City College in Calcutta was Mr.Mitra. He was abnormally moral.  Once a gentleman asked him on road the address of the Red Light area.  He curtly said, ‘I do not know’. Then he thought he spoke lie.  He returned and told that man that he knew but would not tell him.”

We had good time listening tales. After that he took Chinu in his lap and all of us meditated.  Then he fed an apple to Chinu.  Chinu was playing pranks with him.  Then all of us were allowed to leave.

The sky was partly clear.  Instead of reaping grass I relaxed in reading Sorokin. I finished my meals and while coming saw Baba outside.  He was very much upset because there was no matchbox in his hut.  He called me and gave the following note in torrential rain both being under umbrellas.

12.30 P.M. “This time inability to start work at the appointed time has spoilt everything.  Never again I shall ever undertake any work without being completely kept to myself and completely alone.”

After giving the above note he gave a big jolt.  He told that he was leaving alone and by 31st August he would send about fifty thousand rupees. He told me to accompany Ramanidada, Gita and Dipali via Delhi to Shaulmari by plane via Cooch Behar. After that I was told to go home. To neutralize he burnt dry sticks on his ‘bedi’, a mediation platform. He was having his usual bout of anger and pure anger. If accidentally his hut caught fire we were warned not to put it out. He took Chinu and asked for an apple to feed her. There was no apple and hence he offered her a tomato. All this ‘Gandgol’ was for want of matchboxes. Gita took out three matchboxes from his hut. One was sealed and new. The whole thing was amusing and intriguing for me. Baba then tied up and packed his mobile kit that he always used for many years during his sojourn.

By this time Gita brought the message that an Ashramite from Shaulmari who was paralytic came without ticket to Rishikesh and from there he walked down about hundred and twenty miles and just then reached our camp. With great difficulty he crossed the bridge. He was damp like a drowned mouse and shivering. Ramanidada gave him his dhoti and shirt. The fellow came before Baba and in reverence became horizontal before him. He told Baba that he specifically came for his ‘Darshan’ and would liberate his soul by giving up his body at our place. It was an unforeseen problem. I took him to my hut.

In the meantime though it was raining Baba left alone. I did not follow him. Shyamlal promised to bring matchboxes by 10 A.M. but did not show up till then. Anyway. The frail Ashramite was fed well. Gita and Dipali were anxiously getting information about the Ashram and their mother from him. Funny. I asked Gita whether Baba would not return for two days and smilingly Gita exclaimed “Two days? Tonight he would be back.” It was all a riddle for me.

Rain continued. The roof of my hut was leaking all over. In that milieu my bed was co-operative home of ants, leeches, mosquitoes and those blood-sucking tiny insects. It was impossible to get sleep. Everyday I was counting and hoping to go home.

Rain transformed into torrential one. Gita came and informed me that the river was in abnormal flood. We went to watch it. The turbulent water was just a foot below our delicate bridge and all of us feared that it would soon be swept away. I was brooding about Baba who had gone in such torrential rain to jungle all alone. Shyamlal had not come yet.

In the evening I felt lonely and jaded. I therefore went to Ramanidada’s hut. The floor was labyrinth of miniature pools of water. He was very dejected. In despondent mood he whimpered his woes: “Suresh, it would be better if this body liberates my soul. I shall not go back to the Ashram in this condition. Now tolerance is beyond my capacity. Forbearance is difficult now. What can I do? In the previous birth I must have brutally murdered someone. That is why I am suffering since last nine years. I have left everything. Only these two daughters are with me. That is only what I have. Even if my wife dies I shall not shed tears. I have hardened.” In consolation I praised him that he was in the uppermost strata of renunciation. He contradicted and morosely said, “No. When a man ditches to the lowest stage he behaves similarly. A lunatic and a philosopher resemble alike. My condition is like that.” Dada’s as bad as Baba’s condition was really heart twisting. Ramanidada forced me to take one chapatti with him. At that time both of us saw Baba descending from the main road along the footpath in the jungle. It was 6.30 P.M. To go to him was impossible. He then disappeared. He did not continue to get down. Probably he sat beneath some tree. After my dinner I came to rest. From my bed I saw the distant torchlight. The light was steady which indicated he was not coming. I rushed to Dada and asked his permission to go to Baba’s aid. Considering continuous rain and rising flood he refused. I went to riverside and tried to judge fury of flood in candlelight. Did not succeed. Came back to bed. Water was dripping on my body and yet I could sleep in adverse atmosphere with water above, bugs below and gnats buzzing around. Soaked toto.


Got up early and took wash. Sher Singh came. Gave him vegetables. Took breakfast and chatted with Dipali and Gita. Gita said, “I always dream that I had gone home at Shaulmari but when I awake I feel nervous. Now it is beyond our capacity to tolerate. While doing Baba’s work we are constantly haunted by fear complex. Even when I go to wash utensils I am always afraid that slight delay may invite his wrath. Fear and fear always fear.” Ramanidada joined us. He too began despondent talk. Inadvertently he said, “This Chinu episode has created more difficulties.” We saw Baba coming and we came out of Dada’s hut.  Ramanidada and I crossed the bridge. He came and sat down. It was still raining and in that he gave the following dictation:

“My inability to work, my inability to bear physically human impurities and my physical inability to do without this water has compelled me to come back but after the money has come, Suresh, you have to leave this place at the earliest.  Your remaining here will be not only have any help but add to my difficulties that have been everyday mounting with heavy momentum. After Suresh has gone my next task would be to get as earliest as possible myself rid off Ramani, Gita and Dipali by making life arrangement for them if not for all time to come, at least for a considerable length of time and not to stand in the way of Chinu but to allow her to do what she likes in her deepest consciousness to depart from this extremely stupid humanity.  Suresh, if humanity is to be discarded, a little trust that still remains in the intrinsic strength of highest work capable to be done by the humanity in a rapid phase has been completely shattered.  Of the rupees three hundred and twenty five that will reach here, leave rupees fifty with Ramani, give hundred to Diben (the crippled Ashramite) so that he may immediately leave for Ashram and may with this money keep the wolf of hunger away from the door of himself at least for a month.  Send sixty to Gyan (then told me to scratch). Nothing will be sent to Gyan.  Pay off whatever is to be paid to Shyamlal for the last few days for milk, etc. With the remaining money, which will be about hundred, you leave for Amravati.  Do not send money here now.  Whatever you can save from the pay, give to those whose demands are heavy in relation to loan bonds they have taken.

You all are so extremely stupid, so callous, and have subjective mental and vital inertia that real work that demands sustained feeling and attention cannot be trusted with you.  Cheap sentimentality arising out of lopsided and shallow growth of heart that even in this callous phase of human growth is very rare will be of little service in this tremendous work. I have been completely disillusioned.  If I have to do anything in future I have to have with me some people with highest knowledge to look after the external side of my work. There is no alternative.  Wish and wishful thinking will not make you fit at all. Just look into yourself, neither of you can seriously feel the immense suffering which yesterday’s break has thrown upon me and when you cannot feel you are bound to commit the same mistake in future.  By long three months mending the almost wrecked lungs and heart were almost to normal normalcy but this time these have been wrecked more severely than before.  All my patience has been exhausted.  It is my extreme folly that I relied upon you all with a task, the implications, importance, and the burning risk in its non-fulfilment not only you do not realize even a jot but you do not care to realize.  It is only the feeling about the mistake, about a blunder that may improve a man.  That is lacking in you all.”

After this two boys came with two gunny bags of charcoal the payment of which Shyamlalji was to arrange.  In the morning he had been here and assured that he would manage tea and wheat too.  He gave matchboxes and told that yesterday he could not secure wheat and hence due to rain he was unable to come.  His son saw and reported to him that Baba was seen alone going towards Kund.

Anyway.  After writing down the above note I told the secretary that I was leaving immediately.  I told him that the two boys would carry my luggage up the hill.  I informed him that I would leave my belongings as a surety with Shyamlal and would give him a letter of authority to encash the expected T.M.O. and borrow rupees hundred from him to go.  I then went to my hut and detained those two boys.  I began to tie up my holdall and other things.  Ramanidada came and told me that Baba was calling me with the change of clothes.

I appeared before him.  He told me to take food and go next morning.  He instructed not to leave authority letter as that money would be of no use to him.  I explained that two boys were available and next day no coolie could be had.  I firmly said that I would not take food anymore and manage to sleep at night.  I too became mini Baba.  He said in Hindi.

“Do not be childish Suresh.  You will get thrashing at my hands.”  I said that if I were one of them who were reason to create impediments in his work I would better leave.  He said I was not a person to create hurdles but had money been there Gita, Ramani and Dipali would have been sent.  He then assured that he was not telling it out of anger or disgust but that we were all incapable.  I blankly told him that was the reason why I was leaving immediately.  He raised his voice and ordered that I should partake meal and then proceed to Okhimath.  I refused.  I was overwhelmed by his compassion and tears rolled down my eyes.  I determined that to protest against his harsh and whimsical idiosyncrasy I would not take meal.  I literally wept.  He took me by his own hands and made me sit near his chair. He then fondled me on my head and back.  In my mind on one hand I repulsed his blaming nature and on the other hand I felt pity and compunction for him.  What a great man and what he had made himself was the thought that was pinching my mind at that moment.  He then ushered Dada and me to his hut.  He then reiterated that I should go and take meal.  I insisted that I would have it after he took his food.  He said evening would set in by the time he cooked his own food.  Then he told to provide furnace, coal, pulses, rice flour and vegetables in his kitchen.  Gita and Dipali got busy to do that.  He then said, “Stop milk from Shyamlal.  Ramani, we will not take help of others.  When we manage a couple of thousand or more rupees you (Ramani) along with girls go to Haridwar or Banaras or Prayag.  He then took Chinu in his lap and we came out leaving him in privacy.

Ramanidada and I were about to start taking ‘Khichari’ when Baba approached.  He wanted to confirm whether I took food or not.  I was called out of the hut and then he told me to inform the postmaster of Okhimath that dak would be brought not daily but in an accumulated weekly stage whenever it was possible to arrange for it or he himself would go to fetch it.  I told him I was not going to Amravati.  In any case he would not start the work and therefore as long as Ramanidada and Gita were there I would leave only along with them.  His mood suddenly changed and he told me to see him in his hut after finishing the meal.  He proposed to discuss.  When I went there I found him asleep.  He had no sleep the night before.  I returned and took rest.  Rain ceased.  A dilemma was devastating my brain.  I was in a fix whether to go home, to resume service or not.  I knew his work would not take place.  The huge burden of loan was giving sleepless nights.  The staggering figure was increasing in whooping arithmetical progression.  For me there would not be income of salary.  I decided to wait and watch.  I wanted to pursue him to start minimum work to arrange money to let Gita go home.  I then took nap in my hut.

At 4.30 P.M., I got up and together with Ramanidada watched the rising water level of the river near our bridge.  The sky became partly clear.  Dasmana arrived.  I gave him vegetables.  Baba was sitting in front of his hut on folding chair.  He would not talk with anyone.  Often he would walk up and down.  It seemed he was disturbed and was under acute mental stress.  Thinking and thinking.  He was mute and would not talk with anyone of us.  I took dinner and gossiped with ladies.  Then groped my way in darkness to my hut.  Rain resumed.  I slept.

About the author



Comments are closed.