June 23, 2018

Katie Irani Joins Baba


Avatar Meher Baba’s dearest Katie Irani flew into her Beloved’s arms on 29/05/09 at 0410. She passed away from heart failure in Meherazad; she was 89 years old. The cremation was held at 1730 on 29/05/09 at Meherabad. Katie’s ashes are interred by the east side of His Samadhi on Meherabad Hill.


Falling For Baba
[Posted on 29.08.2009]

Several years ago, before Katie’s health took a serious downward turn, she was sitting on Mehera’s verandah with just a couple of us ‘girls’ listening to her reminisce about her life with Meher Baba.

Katie was a marvelous storyteller, and that day she had us all in stitches laughing so hard that it hurt. She paused for a moment before beginning another story and said, “You know, if ever I were to write a book about my life with Meher Baba, I think I would call it, ‘Falling for Baba.'”

Unfortunately, her enthusiasm only lasted a short while. The demands of the kitchen called, and her energy for such a project ebbed quickly. Whenever the idea of the book was brought up, she would brush it aside. Her mood had completely changed. But not before we had recorded some of the wonderful stories that she shared that quiet afternoon.

With Katie’s passing on 29th May 2009 so close in memory, our thoughts
continue to focus on the unique role she played in her life with Meher
Baba: a life lived for Him both in the ashram and in the world. A life carved out of the poignancy of separation, molded and sculpted by the demands of obedience and surrender to His Pleasure, and then polished by the necessity to find humor and joy in the most mundane frailties of our human existence.

I met Katie for the first time in 1978, when she retired from the Japanese Consulate in Bombay and came to Meherazad to stay. At that time, Katie told me a sweet story about her connection to Baba that I have never forgotten.

Baba was visiting her parents and in conversation He innocently asked her mother, “So, how many children do you have?”

Her mother replied, “Why, Baba, I have seven children.”

“No,” came Baba’s prompt reply. “You have five children. Two of your children are mine.”

No one understood the meaning of Baba’s cryptic statement, especially Katie’s mother. But years later when both Katie and Goher left home to live with Meher Baba, in spite of their mother’s dismay, it became undeniably clear; Baba had known from the beginning that these two children were His and His alone.

Katie Rustom Irani first met Baba when He came to her home in Quetta, India, in 1922, and from her childhood she felt drawn to Him. Although she was part of the women’s ashram in Meherabad, and traveled with Baba on the Blue Bus, she was ordered by Baba before He left for the New Life in 1949, to go to Bombay, live with Nariman and Arnavaz Dadachanji, and take up a job.

As Katie recalled:

On 15th October, when Baba disbanded the women’s ashram the Hill, He dispersed all the women mandali to different places. I was sent to Bombay, a place which I never liked in all my life. I remember thinking to myself, oh my God, the worst place I could ever be in. But I had to say, “Yes, Baba.” Finished. I could never refuse Baba anything, and so I was sent to Bombay.

Then Baba said, “You are not just to sit at home and do nothing.” And that is how I ended up at the Japanese Consulate.

When Baba sent us off, He told us, “You will never see Me again. You will not have any contact with Me and you will not write to My companions or have any connection with them. I am sending you all away, but you are still under My wing and so I am there with you always. But you will never see Me again.”

We were in the East Room and when Baba made that announcement, I said to myself, how is it possible? Baba will see us sometime.

Baba turned His head sharply in my direction and said, “Believe Me one hundred percent that you will never see Me again. Don’t cry, be happy.”

I looked at Baba and I just said, “Yes, Baba.” Do you know what it was like? Here I had spent eleven or twelve years with Baba in His constant companionship and then He tells me, “Don’t think you will ever see Me again.”

The whole way to Bombay I thought, this is a bad dream. It can’t be true. I am not going to Bombay¬∑until I climbed the steps to Arnavaz’s doorway. But something happened when I came to Bombay and deep down I don’t know why it was, but I kept on falling; whether it was some deep down separation from Baba that aggravated me into this falling all the time, I don’t know. Thank God, Baba saved me, as every time I fell, I did not break any bones. But I had some extraordinary falls.

In 1952, Baba came to Bombay and He used to enjoy hearing my stories of falling down all the time. So one day, He was standing by the door and He asked me, “Katie, why do you fall down all the time?”

“I don’t know, Baba.”

“Next time you fall, send Me a telegram.”

I said, “Yes Baba.”

I have never said no to Baba in all my life. But in my mind, my stupid mind, I’m thinking, I work for the Japanese Consulate and these people won’t let me out of their sight for five minutes. To send a telegram I would have to catch a bus, go to the telegraph office, wait in the queue, because there was always a serpentine queue at the office, all to send a telegram to Baba. And then I would have to catch a bus back to the consulate. It would take me at least two hours. How will I escape?

And you know, Baba looked at me and said, “No, no. I don’t think a telegram will work. You know what? Every time you fall, just remember to say, Goodbye Baba. Say it loudly so I will hear you in Meherazad and I will know Katie has fallen down.”

“Thank you Baba. Yes, Baba.”

“You will remember? Make sure, every time you fall, just say it loudly, and I will hear you in Meherazad.”

I used to save all my leave to be with Baba. I never took leave for anything else. I didn’t want to fall sick, as they would deduct that from my leave. We had no special sick leave, only twenty days in a year. That was all. But, because I was the personal secretary to the Consul General, they wouldn’t let me go. At the most they would give me four days. And every time I wanted to take leave, they would give me such a fight.

I said, “Sir, you give people twenty days at a time and you won’t give me four days? I am tired. I also need leave.” So I would have to mix the red letter days – the official holidays – with my four days to make seven days. Then I would take the night train. Right from the office I’d rush to the station, buy my ticket and sit all night on the bedding rolls on the floor, reach Ahmednagar and take a tonga (a horse drawn carriage) to Meherazad so that I wouldn’t waste my time traveling. It was not an easy life, I tell you. It was hard work, but I put my heart and soul in my work.

When I came for my holidays to be with Baba, the first thing He would ask me when I entered the room was, “Did you fall?”

“Yes, Baba.”

“Where? Tell me.”

You know about the monsoons in Bombay, how awful they can be, just like buckets being thrown down on you. It just pours and pours like mad. So one day I was attending the office in the morning and it was just pouring rain. I had taken my raincoat and cape with me, but I was just holding it in my lap as I sat in the bus. When we approached the stop closest to my office, I thought to myself I better put the raincoat on so I won’t get drenched. I stood up to put my cape on and at that moment the bus driver suddenly put on the brakes. My two feet flew up in the air; “Good bye Baba,” I called out as my purse and lunch bag went flying, leaving me sprawled out in the dirty water that had collected in the aisle, while everyone on the bus looked at me. Just then, my stop came and I had to get off the bus. So people started helping me up. You know, my fruit had fallen out of the bag. I had brought a banana for my lunch and it just went splat. The apple went rolling down the aisle and everything spilled out. Someone picked up the apple and said to me, “Madame is this yours?” I felt so embarrassed. I reached the office and went straight to the bathroom and just stood under the shower.

Baba and Mehera laughed so much when they heard this story. But every time I’d fall, people would laugh and laugh. I would be lying on the floor and nobody would help me because they were laughing so hard.

Then one day I got down from the train platform and had to walk through a bazaar. I was meeting my brother there. As I stepped out and headed into the market place, I didn’t see a green chili. I knew when I went through the market that I had to be very careful as they would throw out lots of rotten vegetables and the place was strewn with them, so I knew I had to mind all that, but as I stepped down I didn’t see this small green chili which was squashed and slimy. My foot stepped on it and I skidded in front of all the vegetable vendors. Right in the middle of that market I was sprawled out! Chee¬∑And who is standing there watching it all but my brother Jal. He is just staring at me saying, “Poor dear, you’ve fallen.” And I said to him, “Forget about it and come pick me up! Can’t you give me a hand?”

Katie told story after story that afternoon, regaling us with accounts of falls in her office, falls on the roadside, falls in Ashiana, Arnavaz and Nariman Dadachanji’s residence, and every other imaginable place. But what gave one pause, behind the laughter her humorous misadventures elicited, was her resignation to the wish of her beloved Baba. It mattered little whether His pleasure was to send her to live in dreaded and detested Bombay during the New Life, or for her to remember to call out “Goodbye Baba” whenever she fell, or even for Baba to return in 1952 and shatter all hope of being part of the ashram again, by ordering her to remain in Bombay. What mattered was only that she always said, “Yes, Baba.” And this Katie did till the very end.

But all those falls she endured during her lifetime could not have prepared her for what Beloved Baba destined to unfold in the last seven weeks of her life.

It is one thing to experience the momentary humiliation of having to rely on others to help oneself up from a fall; it is an entirely different matter to be made totally dependent on others to see to every mundane daily life chore. Katie found herself bound by a condition that gradually made it impossible for her to move; it robbed her of the ability to turn over in bed, sit up, stretch a leg or even scratch a mosquito bite on her cheek. Walking was an impossibility as was washing her face or feeding herself and, eventually, swallowing. But even this unbelievable limitation and restriction in movement was nothing in comparison to the loss of speech that she experienced. She, who had sung to her Lord with the voice of a nightingale, found her voice gone; in its place was a whisper that we could barely understand. For those of us trying to give her comfort and care, it was truly heartbreaking, for as much as we were willing to do anything to alleviate her pain, it became impossible to know what it was she needed from us. Baba had placed His Katie in an impenetrable prison and He alone held the key to her release.

Yet, for those of us who were blessed to care for her during these last months of her life, her humor, wit, courage and gracious acceptance of what Baba was giving her, never ceased to amaze and inspire us. In spite of her utter physical helplessness, and our utter feelings of helplessness to assuage her suffering, it was she who reminded us, “Why are you sorry I am suffering? It is what He wants.”

Even in our clumsy attempts to serve her, she would shed humor on the moment by raising an eyebrow at our imperfect endeavors, or laugh with us, even when she didn’t have the energy to talk, as we witnessed her belly shaking up and down with sheer joy and abandon at the joke someone had cracked when we thought she was asleep.

Yes, we shall miss our dear Katie, but we find joy in her release. No more “Good-bye Baba” for Katie; it is we, who stand here now saying, Goodbye, Katie.

Davana Brown
For Tavern Talk
29 June 2009


Jai Baba!

The following is a letter Meheru wrote to a Baba lover on her return to Meherazad from Katie’s interment. She has lovingly agreed to share it with the readers of Tavern Talk.
(from Meheru:)

Today, the 21st of June 2009, the summer solstice, we went to Meherabad around 9:30 am for Katie’s interment. Somehow Katie was very present and we felt her conducting the show as she would have liked. And there were crowds of people whom we had not expected to come to honour this day. We were happy that Katie’s sister and niece, Shera and Dinaz, were among them.

After visiting the East Room where we arranged the flowers, we went to Beloved Baba’s Samadhi and were surprised to see the crowd and feel how much Katie’s love for Baba had reached out to so many.

In Beloved Baba’s Samadhi we sang the Bujawe Naar Arti and said the Parvardigar Prayer, and took Baba’s darshan as we would do in Mehera’s time. Then we went out to garland Mehera and bow to her love for Beloved Baba, and in turn, greet Naja, Rano, Soonamasi (Khorshed’s mother) and Kitty, in the order that Baba had prescribed, showering them with flowers. And then we came to the east side of the Samadhi to garland Mani…and somehow passed Goher…but we started the program as we felt it was Katie’s day to hold the stage. Meanwhile Ted was playing “The Ocean of Love”, a song all of us love and enjoyed hearing him sing.

The crypt was ready to receive Katie’s urn which we had, on Friday evening, placed in Mandali Hall near Baba’s Chair. Falu later conveyed it to the Blus Bus which I felt was very appropriate as she was one of the inmates of the Blue Bus during its tours. I remember when my sister and I would come for our holidays from school to Baba, so many times traveling with them in the Bus. All the young ones like us in those days would be sitting in the aisle, balancing ourselves on moveable folding stools (as the seats which were double on one side and single on the other were occupied by the older women), and there was a strip of iron that would swing across the aisle and connect to the opposite seat against which we could rest our backs. No matter how long the journey or hot and tired and uncomfortable it was, we enjoyed it. I would certainly have liked to sit near at a window seat to be able to see out, but the ones who were not good travelers and got car-sick had to be near the windows and so whenever we looked out we would see one or two of them with their heads out getting sick. Katie would be OK on the straight roads, but once the roads began to wind their way uphill she would start feeling sickish, but like a trooper, controlled herself and tried to forget what was happening inside by singing away as much as she could. One of the songs I well remember was “John Brown’s body lies a-moldering in his grave but his soul goes marching on”. And that is exactly what we felt when Katie dropped her body to be reunited with her Beloved, that her soul goes marching on. It was a time we really felt she deserved, to be freed from all the pain and suffering she was going through at the end of her life.

It had become a practice every morning in Meherazad to put on the CD player some of the Baba songs that have been sent to us. In Katie’s last week or so, we often played her latest CD of Baba’s songs and felt that she was definitely listening and imbibing them and remembering the early times with Baba. For us, we couldn’t tell whether she was with us or in her world with Baba because she often saw Him, and Mehera, Mani, Goher, Arnavaz, and even Eruch, and we felt these experiences are what upheld her, for the Parkinson’s disease that she had was progressing rapidly and everyone had to help her to sit up, eat, wash, etc. It was something that Katie never thought would happen to her in her lifetime, for she was such an independent person. That is why I felt that for her to be reunited with Baba was the freedom she deserved.

So during the program after Sarah Schall had said a few words, and I said a few words, Katie’s ashes were interred in the crypt prepared by Ted with the interior decorated by Sarah. Then everybody offered flowers and garlands. It was at this time I remembered that we had not offered flowers to Goher so I turned around desperately to see someone asking me to help her offer flowers to Katie. I felt Katie telling me to offer them to Goher. So I told the lady it would make Katie very happy and so we offered them to Goher and felt happy about it.

What was so great was that we’d had, after a long period of drought in early June, two to three good rains which had cooled down the atmosphere and we did not feel the uncomfortable heat that we had expected.

Back here in Meherazad I still have the feeling of how Katie was so present and had conducted the whole program. It is a joyous feeling to feel that she has gone to her well-earned rest.

Ever in Baba’s Love,

21 June 2009

KATIE’S FAREWELL (Posted on 19 June 2009)

Three weeks have passed since the 29th of May when Baba’s darling Katie returned to His embrace. Now, as we approach Sunday, the 21st of June, the day on which her ashes will be interred near the Samadhi according to Baba’s wish and we will say our final good-bye, we find ourselves missing her more and more. We miss her in the mornings when the bazaar is being ordered as we bumble around trying to do the job she performed flawlessly in Baba’s kitchen for so many years. And her absence is especially poignant at mealtimes for it was so like Katie to keep on attending her daily kitchen duties–cooking for the entire household–despite her pain and failing health, until the 11th of April when she could no longer manage.

Baba has talked about why His Mandali suffer. Certainly it is for His Work and the greater good of humanity, and Katie’s final days reminded us of that. Feeling humbled and helpless in the face of her suffering one of her caregivers said to Katie how sorry we were that she was in such pain and Katie responded by gently saying, “Why? Why should you be sorry? Don’t be – it’s Baba Who wants me to suffer, this is from Him. Don’t be sorry.” So for seven weeks we watched in stunned silence as He took from her every sense, every function, everything that had comprised the Katie-ness we knew and loved so much. By the end Katie couldn’t move and could barely speak, and when she did attempt a word our understanding was hampered by the Parkinsons which had robbed her of her beautiful voice, so expressing her needs was trying at best. She had great difficulty swallowing, so eating and drinking, something in which she had always taken great pleasure, became a torture. Katie’s body was so riddled with pain because of arthritis and prolonged bedrest that even slowly cranking the bed into sitting position or carefully turning her from side to side sometimes took two hours of constant adjustment to find a position of comfort for her. At one point she turned to us and said, “I’m all locked up, I’m trapped.”

But through all of this her great heart and love for God prevailed. Katie thought only of Baba and often saw Him, Mehera and the other Mandali before her. One morning when she awoke Katie had a joyful expression on her face as she happily informed me that Goher had come back to see her. Another time she told me Eruch was lovingly stroking her head as she sat in the wheelchair, and often Mehera, Naja, Mani, Rano and even Pendu, Aloba and Bal were gathered around her. It was a great comfort knowing that her old companions had joined in her caregiving. Although Katie could no longer attend arti in Baba’s Room she always participated from her bed outside His Room and afterwards, when Baba’s foot cushion was presented to her for darshan, her penetrating focus on Him silenced all activity around her, reflecting the depth of her inner experience.

When Katie’s family or old friends would visit we watched in awe and astonishment as she surfaced from the depths of her suffering to be fully present – to ask for her earrings and lipstick and pearl necklace, to sit up in bed and graciously hold court despite her weakness and pain. Katie did this for love, in her unfailing duty to Beloved Baba. And despite her condition she continued to think of others. She worried about her caregivers, constantly saying to us, “I’m giving you all so much trouble.” Although the loss of independence distressed her she was often more concerned about how this affected those around her; she worried about our backs when we moved her and about how much work she was giving to others. And her quick mind remained sharp to the end. She noticed everything and
everyone. Weeks into Katie’s illness someone teasingly asked Katie to cook a very special mango dish which requires a great deal of preparation. We all took no notice but Katie remembered and just three days before she passed away she called Saguna, the kitchen
servant who had worked with Katie for many years, to her bedside and with great effort asked her to make this delicious dish, am rus and buttermilk puris, for the household. And this was not only the last meal she ordered in Baba’s kitchen, it was the last meal she ate in Baba’s Home.

The last weeks of Katie’s life were ones of continual change. Daily she was declining and we found ourselves scrambling to keep up with her deterioration. Disbelief haunted us; we just couldn’t fathom how rapidly she was moving towards her destination. March 21st is the Irani New Year called Jamshed-e-Nav Roz, a day which is celebrated with family, friends and of course lots of good food. At Meherazad Alan Wagner and his staff cooked a wonderful meal which we ate on the veranda of the old clinic. There were about twenty-five attendees and Katie in her full splendour presided. As she approached decked out in her beautiful turquoise dress, her earrings to match and her pearls, Meherwan commented that Katie always added glamour to any table. And it was so true. But just three weeks later Katie was wheelchair bound, unable to walk or even to feed herself because of the tremors that confounded her every attempt. And seven weeks after that Katie fell into her Beloved’s arms, no longer needing to say “Good-bye Baba” for she was safely Home at last.

On the 27th of May Katie’s pain escalated to a point unbearable both for her and her caregivers. We could not touch her without eliciting pain; she was unable to eat or drink and no longer could we find even a single position of comfort for our darling. It was time to step up the pain medication and relieve her suffering. At night I would set my alarm so Katie received pain medication around the clock, and finally we saw peace on her face for the first time in weeks. Katie remained in a deep sleep and comfortable till the end.

The 28th night I lay on my trundle bed, pushed right up against Katie’s so that she and I slept side by side, reading my book and fully intending to set my alarm for the midnight pain shot before I went to sleep. Suddenly at 4:10 in the morning I shot out of bed, practically whip-lashing my neck as I turned to look at Katie, and saw she was gone. I couldn’t believe it. We all felt that she would go soon, but not then, not now. I reached over to touch her, to make sure she was no longer there and her skin was warm and soft and she was almost still alive. I realized then that Katie had just departed, that she had quietly slipped away. And later I learned from another resident that she too suddenly awoke in the early morning to find Katie’s beautiful image hovering in her room. Upon seeing this she spontaneously said aloud, “Katie is gone” and when she looked at the clock it read 4:10 am.

Later when things settled down and the caregivers had a chance to talk together, I learned that Katie had told more than one person she didn’t want a lot of fuss and fanfare over her when she went to Baba. She wished to go quietly and without a lot of attention, and so Baba fulfilled Katie’s last wish. In the end it was just Katie and her Beloved alone in their final embrace.

The Meherazad household members gathered around Katie to sing the arti and recite Baba’s prayers. Manu sat vigil at her side singing and remembering her life in Baba with dearest Katie. She was joined by many Meherabad and Ahmednagar residents who began arriving early to pay their respects to our darling girl. Enwrapped in turquoise and pink scarves with her pearls and lipstick on, Katie looked stunning: so beautiful, so regal and poised in her Beloved. This was not Katie the cook, or Katie the mistress of comedy and drama; lying in state Katie looked every inch a queen in her Beloved’s heart.

At 3 p.m. everyone present at Meherazad gathered around Katie as she was transferred from her bed onto a stretcher for her last journey to Meherabad. First she was placed at Baba’s feet in His Room where we said the prayers and arti. Then to Baba’s “Jai”, Katie was carried into Mandali Hall and placed by her Beloved’s foot cushion at His chair. Once again we recited the prayers, sang the arti and also some of her favorite songs while the nearby villagers came to pay their final respects.

Katie, along with Meherazad family and caregivers, traveled in the ambulance to Meherabad where the first stop was Baba’s Samadhi. Katie’s head rested at Baba’s feet as the prayers and arti were performed; then she was taken down the Hill to Mandali Hall where she was greeted by hundreds of Baba’s lovers who came from as far away as Mumbai to meet her one last time. And then to the cremation ground. Because of the heat we could not linger with dearest Katie any longer so the pyre was built and we had one last glance at her serene beauty before a handkerchief of Goher’s was placed over her face. The completed pyre was lit and Baba’s Katie was surrendered unto Him.

At the beginning of Katie’s final illness she sent a message to Manu who also was feeling unwell. With her inimitable sense of humor Katie said to Meherwan, “Tell Manu that she will get absolutely 100% when she goes to Baba.” Katie further told Manu to take care of
herself, to eat well, be happy and that Baba is there to look after her. And then suddenly, with great seriousness Katie added, “Actually Baba is giving us an opportunity to suffer a little – an iota of a dot of the suffering of what He went through. Get well, be happy, Jai Baba dear.” It was as if while speaking she saw on the horizon the suffering that lay in wait for her.

And so began Katie’s conscious journey along the path of her God-given opportunity to suffer the “iota of a dot”. And she did so with great courage and forbearance. We witnessed the graciousness of her silent suffering; we watched as the Beloved broke her into the pieces that would soon be resurrected in His Love. Baba has returned His darling Katie into His fold and left behind the spectacular memories we have of His truly unique and peerless Katie Rustom Irani. We miss her terribly but take comfort in knowing that she is at Baba’s side, where she has always longed to be. So now, there is nothing left to say but “Get well, be happy, Jai Baba dear!” We know that Baba is looking after you!

In Baba’s sweet, sweet Love,

Shelley Marrich
19 June 2009


Katie Irani

Born to a family of close Baba followers in Quetta, (India) Katie and her older sister Goher fell in love with Meher Baba as small children. From the time she joined Him on the Blue Bus tours in 1937, Baba gave Katie plenty of scope for her talents. She made Him laugh in funny skits and with amusing stories, entertained Him with her rich and beautiful singing, cooked for His women’s ashram. Even after Baba sent her to stay in Bombay to live with Arnavaz and Nariman Dadachanji at the start of the New Life, she lived under His direct orders always — and did so till the end of her life. Katie worked at the Japanese Embassy in Bombay for 28 years and during this time she often visited Baba and the women mandali in Meherazad and at Gurupreasad, Pune where she would regale Baba with the most recent comical events from her life in which the starring role always fell to her. In 1978 when Goher opened the new building for Meher Free Dispensary, she called Katie to stay at Meherazad permanently to assist her in the clinic. And eventually Katie helped in Baba’s kitchen — a job which she diligently performed despite her failing health till the very end.

Katie’s vivacious and outgoing personality, wonderful sense of humour (showcased in her hilarious ashram stories), sharing her delicious recipes both personally and through her book, COOKING WITH KATIE, and heart-stirring singing of Baba’s Name and songs have delighted generations of pilgrims at Meherazad ever since.

We, her Meherazad family, salute our dear Katie’s total dedication to her Beloved Avatar, and her untiring service to Him and His close ones.


Meherazad family


From Bhau Kalchuri

I received the message from Shiva that my dearest Administrator Katie passed away in order to join Beloved Baba permanently. Though her physical absence will be felt by everyone in the world, still what fortune she has that she has joined Baba permanently. May Beloved Baba keep her in peace and make her again Administrator if it is His Wish. Then, whether Baba gives her duty depends on His Wish.

She remained happy and cheerful, and she did not give any trouble to anyone.On the contrary, pilgrims liked to be in her company. If she comes back, she will come back for her duty to Beloved Baba, and she will do Beloved Baba’s work. She will give joy to others and remain an example for the world.

With all love and Jai Baba to you all, dear Meheru, dear Manu, dear Merwan,dear Falu and all those who were serving her directly and all those who are working there at Meherazad and connected with her indirectly.

From Rick and Sheryl Chapman

Katie Rustom Irani

Whenever the Avatar comes, He brings with Him His Circle, His most intimate and closest disciples. Katie Irani, with her sister, Goher, was one of those most special souls, in Beloved Avatar Meher Baba’s contact since earliest childhood and throughout her life. Perhaps the most fascinating thing about Katie, however, is not her once-in-a-hundred-million-lifetimes opportunity to live as one of the closest members of the Avatar’s “family,” but that she was, from all outer appearances, perhaps the least likely candidate for that most privileged position. Katie was every person, any person, full of fun and full of foibles. She was personable in the extreme, so very easy to talk to and to laugh with, and she was equally as unmystical as a pot of dhansak dal. Absolutely nobody would have guessed that, behind those “everyday” appearances, Katie Irani was an intimate disciple of the Highest Spiritual Authority of the Age, the Eternal Beloved of every heart. But that she was, because she was His. All His. That’s all that ever mattered, and all that matters now and forevermore.

Katie, dear, we’ll truly miss you. But we know that you have rejoined your Beloved Baba with an immediate charge, that is, to stand with dearest Naja in the Heavenly Kitchens in serving Beloved Baba, Darling Mehera, and all the close ones who have gotten there before you. All our love, always, in His Love Divine!


Sheryl and Rick Chapman
29 May 2009


His Will, His Pleasure By Katie Irani


[More Images of Katie Irani]