Remember that.”
Daily, Bhau began fetching Ismail and escorting him back to his house in the evenings. Again, after several days passed, Baba reprimanded, “You are not taking proper care of Ismail. It is so hot, and you are bringing him unprotected in this heat! If his health suffers, his studies will be ruined, and you won’t be able to help him pass his exam in one year — and that would be disobeying me! Bring him to Rosewood shielded by an umbrella, so that he won’t be affected by the sun. What help I am giving you! Do you ever think about it?”
Therefore, Bhau had to begin holding an umbrella over Ismail’s head, while the neighbors were wondering why so much honor and respect was being showered on a poor boy who used to collect cowdung! At first, Ismail was studying well, but the more he was pampered, the more careless he became toward his studies — and the more he began arrogantly troubling Bhau.
Several days later, Baba instructed Bhau, “Bring Ismail to Grafton every day. He needs some refreshments to maintain his health and he will also be more attentive to his studies!” So Bhau would take the boy to Grafton, with the umbrella over his head, and Baba would make him sit on the sofa in front of him, while Bhau remained standing. Such was the teacher’s condition: the pupil was sitting comfortably on the sofa, and the teacher had to stand before him. Goher would bring a tray full of eatables and a glass of sherbet, and Bhau would offer them to Ismail. And when the boy finished, Bhau had to wash his plate and glass.
This heaping of indulgences on Ismail made a dent in Bhau’s forbearance. The room in which Bhau was tutoring him contained a bed, and Ismail would lie down on it. When Bhau would tell him to read, he would say, “Just wait a minute. I am tired, let me rest. I will read afterwards.” At times, relaxing against some pillows, he would stretch out his legs, and when Bhau would ask him to be attentive to his studies, he would reply, “You read, I will listen. It is your duty to teach me; continue lecturing for two hours.”
The result of all this was that Ismail would not learn anything. Even after hours of persuasion, he would say, “What is there in your teaching?
If Baba’s nazar is there, I will learn everything in a second!” Baba would go on praising Ismail and castigating Bhau. This happened almost daily. But Ismail did do one good thing for Bhau. Once he told Baba, “I don’t like Bhau’s mustache. He accompanies me from my home every day, and people laugh at him!” So Baba immediately ordered Bhau to shave off his Chinese mustache, and that was just fine with Bhau.
Dealing with Ismail was a long lesson in tolerance for Bhau. Had he not been so mischievous, how else would Bhau have the chance to control his temper and learn to keep quiet? Baba had arranged matters with this end in mind, and Ismail played his part to perfection. Occasionally, he would taunt Bhau with such words: “You’d better learn how to teach better! You don’t know how to do it. How far have you yourself studied?”
Or, at times, he would say, “Your pulse is in my hands! If I mention one word of complaint to Baba, you will find yourself in an awful plight!”
Thus, during the stay at Satara, Bhau found himself saddled with this “worthy” pupil.
After returning from England, America and Australia, Baba resumed his seclusion work in Satara. He stayed at Grafton with the women, but worked at Judge’s Bungalow with Kaikobad. The men mandali at Rosewood were under orders not to speak to any woman. One day Baba sent Bhau to the town market to buy brooms, which were usually sold only by women. Bhau looked for but failed to find any brooms being sold by a man. As he was wondering whether to buy some or not, a woman stepped away from her stall or shop leaving her son in charge. Bhau immediately went to him and bought five brooms. He was about to hand over the money when the mother returned. Throwing the money on the ground, Bhau hurried off with the brooms, thus avoiding speaking to the woman. The woman looked at him, shaking her head at his peculiar behavior.
Bhau also had the duty of bringing flour from a nearby mill. One day Aloba complained to Baba that the flour from the mill was not of good quality. Baba told Bhau, “What Aloba says is true. Go to another mill to have the flour ground.” Aloba showed him another flour mill two miles away. Bhau had to walk there carrying the heavy sack of wheat on his shoulders.
There was not the least difference between the flour ground in the two mills, and Bhau soon brought this fact to Baba’s attention. Baba said, “What? There is as much difference between them as between the earth and the sky! It is my wish that you get the flour ground from this new mill. So why do you insist there is no difference? Why consider the flour? Have regard for my wish.”
Baba looked serious and asked, “I must send him an important telegram. How can it be sent?”From the time Krishna Nair joined Baba during the early 1940s in Bangalore, he had been doing night watch by Baba’s side. But from Satara, Baba had sent him back to his home in Kerala.
One day in March 1957, when Bhau went to Baba for his watch, Baba asked, “Do you know Krishna’s address?”
Bhau replied, “No, but I have heard he is in Bombay.”
Bhau replied, “Sorabji Siganporia (the secretary of the Bombay Center) may be aware of Krishna’s whereabouts. If a telegram is sent to him, he will inform Krishna.”
Baba then dictated this telegram: “Don’t worry. I am with you. I will never abandon you. Love, Baba.”
He instructed Bhau to send it at once. Coming out of Baba’s room, Bhau learned that the boy who daily carried messages and mail to Ahmednagar had already left for town. Bhau returned to Baba and informed him. Baba was extremely distraught and gestured, “If he has left, then another boy should have been sent. How can I trust you now? You are useless! You don’t understand the significance of my work. I said at once, and I meant at once!”
The fact was that the other servant boys were under Kaka Baria’s reign, and Kaka was the type of man who was so strict in his manner with the other mandali that they dared not even talk with these boys.
Baba tore the paper that the telegram was written on into pieces and continued to reproach Bhau. The barrage of rebukes lasted in one form or another until 5:00 P.M., when He dictated another telegram for Krishna: “You are dear to Me. Have courage. Everything will be all right.”
Bhau was ordered to send it immediately with another boy. So Bhau asked Kaka to tell another boy to take the telegram to town. “The other boy has gone to bring milk,” Kaka snapped. “Do you expect me to take the telegram? Why didn’t you send it with the errand boy this morning?”
Bhau returned to Baba and reported that the telegram remained unsent. This further upset him, and for two hours he ranted and raved at Bhau, who had to listen to Baba’s tirade of choice abuses. Evening Baba asked for sherbet, which Bhau handed Him in a glass. After taking two sips, he handed the glass to Bhau and motioned to him to drink the rest. Baba’s mood suddenly changed. He became jovial, chitchatting and joking.
Baba’s strange behavior that evening perplexed Bhau, and when he returned to his room, he made a note of the date and time. The mystery was cleared up a few weeks later when Baba visited the Saint Mira High School in Poona to give darshan. Krishna Nair attended the function, and Bhau spoke with him. Without telling him why he was inquiring, Bhau learned that on the same day Baba had caused such a storm in Meherazad, Krishna, out of desperation, had gone up a mountain to commit suicide.
In 1957, once, Baba asked Bhau to bring Gustadji a plate, and then instructed him to go to his room and write what Baba said was a very urgent letter. Just as Bhau was about to start writing, Baba clapped for him. Pointing to a few crumbs on the floor that had fallen from Gustadji’s plate, Baba gestured, “Clean this up or ants will come here.” Bhau did as he was instructed. “Now go, go!” Baba gestured. “Finish that letter; it is urgent and most important.”
Bhau returned to his room, but hardly had he finished two lines when Baba clapped again. “Gustadji wants a glass of water,” he told Bhau. “Bring it for him.”
The other mandali were seated in the hall, unoccupied, but Baba had called Bhau away from his work to perform this task. “That old man [Gustadji] is doing this on purpose to harass me,” Bhau thought. Nevertheless, once again he did as he was told.
Baba then motioned, “Finish that letter! Hurry! You must complete it before the boy leaves with the mail for Ahmednagar.”
Again, Bhau went to his room. But five minutes later, Baba called him to clean more crumbs from under Gustadji’s plate. Then he asked, “Have you finished that letter?”
Bhau was so irritated by this time that he blurted out, “How could I finish it, Baba? You keep calling me every two minutes — and Gustadji is just sitting here doing nothing but causing trouble!”
Baba replied, “Is he doing nothing? He is doing much more important work than you! The work Gustadji does by sitting by My side here is such that you can never do it even while working your utmost for Me. The reason is that he sees to My pleasure. You are obeying Me that is true. I asked you to write the letter, and you are complying, but your obedience does not give Me pleasure. He is doing this purposefully because he knows that it pleases Me. Gustadji’s obedience gives Me pleasure. He knows what I want and he does it in order to please Me.
“It is My pleasure that he should eat sweets, which he does. It is My wish that he should want something or other from you, which he does. While pleasing Me, he has never had a thought that you are disturbed in your work. If he did that, then he would be keeping your pleasure, not Mine.
From the time Krishna Nair joined Baba during the early 1940’s in Bangalore, he had been doing night watch by Baba’s side. But from Satara, Baba had sent him back to his home in Kerala.
One day in March 1957, when Bhau went to Baba for his watch, Baba asked, “Do you know Krishna’s address?”
Bhau replied, “No, but I have heard he is in Bombay.”
Baba looked serious and asked, “I must send him an important telegram. How can it be sent?”
Bhau replied, “Sorabji Siganporia (the secretary of the Bombay Center) may be aware of Krishna’s whereabouts. If a telegram is sent to him, he will inform Krishna.”
Baba then dictated this telegram: “Don’t worry. I am with you. I will never abandon you. Love, Baba.”
He instructed Bhau to send it at once. Coming out of Baba’s room, Bhau learned that the boy who daily carried messages and mail to Ahmednagar had already left for town. Bhau returned to Baba and informed him. Baba was extremely distraught and gestured, “If he has left, then another boy should have been sent. How can I trust you now? You are useless! You don’t understand the significance of my work. I said at once, and I meant at once!”
The fact was that the other servant boys were under Kaka Baria’s reign, and Kaka was the type of man who was so strict in his manner with the other mandali that they dared not even talk with these boys.
Baba tore the paper that the telegram was written on into pieces and continued to reproach Bhau. The barrage of rebukes lasted in one form or another until 5:00 P.M., when He dictated another telegram for Krishna: “You are dear to Me. Have courage. Everything will be all right.”
Bhau was ordered to send it immediately with another boy. So Bhau asked Kaka to tell another boy to take the telegram to town. “The other boy has gone to bring milk,” Kaka snapped. “Do you expect me to take the telegram? Why didn’t you send it with the errand boy this morning?”
Bhau returned to Baba and reported that the telegram remained unsent. This further upset him, and for two hours he ranted and raved at Bhau, who had to listen to Baba’s tirade of choice abuses. Evening Baba asked for sherbet, which Bhau handed Him in a glass. After taking two sips, he handed the glass to Bhau and motioned to him to drink the rest. Baba’s mood suddenly changed. He became jovial, chitchatting and joking.
Baba’s strange behavior that evening perplexed Bhau, and when he returned to his room, he made a note of the date and time. The mystery was cleared up a few weeks later when Baba visited the Saint Mira High School in Poona to give darshan. Krishna Nair attended the function, and Bhau spoke with him. Without telling him why he was inquiring, Bhau learned that on the same day Baba had caused such a storm in Meherazad, Krishna, out of desperation, had gone up a mountain to commit suicide.
In 1957, once, Baba asked Bhau to bring Gustadji a plate, and then instructed him to go to his room and write what Baba said was a very urgent letter. Just as Bhau was about to start writing, Baba clapped for him. Pointing to a few crumbs on the floor that had fallen from Gustadji’s plate, Baba gestured, “Clean this up or ants will come here.” Bhau did as he was instructed. “Now go, go!” Baba gestured. “Finish that letter; it is urgent and most important.”
Bhau returned to his room, but hardly had he finished two lines when Baba clapped again. “Gustadji wants a glass of water,” he told Bhau. “Bring it for him.”
The other mandali were seated in the hall, unoccupied, but Baba had called Bhau away from his work to perform this task. “That old man [Gustadji] is doing this on purpose to harass me,” Bhau thought. Nevertheless, once again he did as he was told.
Baba then motioned, “Finish that letter! Hurry! You must complete it before the boy leaves with the mail for Ahmednagar.”
Again, Bhau went to his room. But five minutes later, Baba called him to clean more crumbs from under Gustadji’s plate. Then he asked, “Have you finished that letter?”
Bhau was so irritated by this time that he blurted out, “How could I finish it, Baba? You keep calling me every two minutes — and Gustadji is just sitting here doing nothing but causing trouble!”
Baba replied, “Is he doing nothing? He is doing much more important work than you! The work Gustadji does by sitting by My side here is such that you can never do it even while working your utmost for Me. The reason is that he sees to My pleasure. You are obeying Me that is true. I asked you to write the letter, and you are complying, but your obedience does not give Me pleasure. He is doing this purposefully because he knows that it pleases Me. Gustadji’s obedience gives Me pleasure. He knows what I want and he does it in order to please Me.
“It is My pleasure that he should eat sweets, which he does. It is My wish that he should want something or other from you, which he does. While pleasing Me, he has never had a thought that you are disturbed in your work. If he did that, then he would be keeping your pleasure, not Mine.
“So, he is doing much more important work than you. Both of you are obeying Me 100 percent, but the difference is that his obedience is giving Me pleasure, yours is notHe knows what pleases Me, but you don’t! You know he is doing all this to please Me. Yet, without having any thought for My pleasure, you on the contrary become angry with him. And you think that you are working while Gustadji is doing nothing, but sitting here and eating sweets. He really works! Whatever work you do is useless. If I do not give any sweets to Gustadji and send them to you with him, he would do it willingly without thinking any other thoughts. This is called work!
“The mast never left before, how is it he wandered off today?”
“It is truly surprising,” Bhau said. “I looked for him on the road in all directions, but could not find him anywhere. I do not know where he was or how he happened to be coming back.”
Baba replied, “You did not pay proper attention to My warnings, and that is why he left. Let this be a lesson to you.”
In 1956, one day a mast-like man named Rambhau was brought to Satara from Poona by Baidul. He was not a full-fledged mast, but was somewhat spiritually intoxicated, having a “whiff” of the Path. Bhau was ordered to care for him — to serve him food, make his bed and generally see to all his requirements. In addition, Baba ordered Bhau to wash and lay his head on Rambhau’s feet seven times each day.
On one occasion, Baba instructed Bhau, “Today, I will cut Rambhau’s hair and bathe him, so have everything ready by 1:30 P.M.” Baba warned him three or four times to keep the mast ready and added, “I will cut his hair at exactly 1:30. Be alert and see that Rambhau does not leave the bungalow then.”
Rambhau would never go outside; he would always remain seated docilely in one place. Bhau made the necessary arrangements and kept Rambhau ready. But, while he was in the bathroom, Rambhau slipped out of his room and, for the first time, walked off.
Exactly at 1:30 P.M., Baba arrived at Rosewood from Grafton. Bhau left the bathroom and went to Rambhau’s room to fetch him. He was stunned to find the room vacant. Bhau had left him alone for only five minutes, never thinking he would behave like this. Terribly distraught, Bhau searched throughout the bungalow compound but could not find him. Baba sent for him and asked, “Didn’t I tell you to bring the mast? What were you doing? I am waiting here for you … Where is he?”
Bhau faltered, “The mast has gone somewhere.”
Baba was furious and scolded Bhau, “I warned you repeatedly to be attentive, be very attentive. Still, you did not listen to me. How careless you are! How can I trust you?
You have spoiled my work.”
He then ordered, “Find Rambhau and bring him within half an hour or else you will have to pack your things and leave!”
Bhau rode a bicycle and searched up and down the roads, but he could not find Rambhau. Frightened and dejected, he returned empty-handed. Baba was still fuming. Baba sent him out again with Pendu in the car, but they could not locate the mast.
Rambhau had disappeared. Bhau stood guiltily before Baba, feeling the ground slipping out from under his feet. At last, Baba ordered him, “Now, go out on foot. Find the mast and come back with him within five minutes. Otherwise, you will not be allowed to remain here.”
Bhau left and saw Rambhau walking on the road back to the bungalow! Bhau felt a profound relief at seeing him. He took him to Baba immediately, who asked, “Where did you find him?”
“On the road.”
“The mast never left before, how is it he wandered off today?”
“It is truly surprising,” Bhau said. “I looked for him on the road in all directions, but could not find him anywhere. I do not know where he was or how he happened to be coming back.”
Baba replied, “You did not pay proper attention to My warnings, and that is why he left. Let this be a lesson to you.”
It was later learned that Rambhau had hidden himself in a public urinal, and when Baba had sent Bhau out again to search for him, Rambhau had just stepped back onto the road.
Once,
Baba reached Ashiana He told Bhau, “Despite whatever I may tell you, eat your meals to the fullest.” Bhau did not completely understand what Baba meant, but he said he would. He was only eating one meal a day, as he had to be on watch near Baba from early in the evening until midnight. Eruch, too, would eat only once a day.
The first night, Baba remarked, “Plenty of good food will be available at Ashiana during our stay, so drink only one cup of tea in the morning (at Rupamai’s) and then come here to eat.” At midnight, Bhau had to trudge almost a mile and a half to Rupamai’s, and then return to Ashiana by seven o’clock in the morning.
The next afternoon, when everyone was seated for lunch, Baba sat next to Bhau and asked, “How much are you eating? Your plate is overflowing! Are you a giant? If you eat all this, what will be left for the others?”
Addressing the mandali he continued, “Look how much Bhau eats! What kind of manners does he have?” Baba went on belittling Bhau in front of the others until lunch was over, and Bhau felt very upset about it. Baba’s taunts about Bhau’s gargantuan appetite became a daily ritual at lunchtime, so Bhau began taking only one slice of bread. Twenty days passed like this, but Baba did not let up for a single day, teasing and harassing Bhau whenever he sat down for lunch. Each day, Baba would come and sit next to him, and unleash a string of comments and criticisms about him and his appetite.
As lunchtime would approach each day, Bhau began to feel nervous, and would while away some time by pretending to have to go to the toilet, coming back to the table only long enough to consume his solitary piece of bread. But Baba would not leave him alone.
Finally, one day Bhau got exasperated. He said to Baba, “From tomorrow, I will not come for food. Give me only eight annas [50 paisa] a day and I will make my own [food] arrangements outside. For the past three weeks, I have been living on one piece of bread, and still you do not leave me alone and keep taunting me that I eat like a giant!”
Baba replied, “What a fool you are! The very first day, I told you that despite what I say, you should have your fill. Isn’t that so? But you disobeyed me. You broke my order. And every day, when you were breaking my order by not eating, you were breaking my heart! How hurt I felt when you would not eat well.”
Bhau realized his mistake and started eating regularly. Baba continued to taunt him, but was pleased that Bhau now ate in spite of it.
The story does not end here. Six months later, when Baba was again staying at Ganeshkhind in Poona, several Bombay and Poona lovers were called. At lunch, everyone sat down to eat and Baba also took a chair opposite Bhau. In the presence of all, he asked Bhau, “How is it that you eat like a giant? If you do so, others will go hungry!” Bhau acted as if he did not hear him and continued eating, whereupon, Baba commented, “See how shameless this fellow is! I tell him he takes too much food, yet he goes on stuffing his mouth. This is the height of brazenness.”
Those present glared at Bhau, but in obedience to Baba, he kept on eating. Baba kept criticizing him, and Sorabji Siganporia looked at Bhau, puzzled by his actions. What could Bhau say? The fact was that by eating once a day, his intake was comparatively less than the others.
Baba left after the meal was over, and the guests asked Bhau, “You are one of the mandali; how can you disobey Baba?”
“I was very hungry,” Bhau replied.
“But it was Baba’s wish that you should not eat. Would it have killed you to miss one meal? When you cannot do such a small thing, how can you serve Baba properly?”
Laughing, Bhau replied, “I serve only my stomach, and despite how it appears, it really is not against Baba’s wish.”
In the evening when he went to Baba, Baba embraced him and said, “Today, I am very happy with you.
Baba’s night watchman had to sit outside his room at Grafton and go in when Baba clapped. One evening Bhau went to Baba’s room for night watch, and as always Baba warned him: “Don’t make any noise; don’t make any movement; and keep awake!” Baba would repeat these same three instructions daily. After this, Baba asked Bhau to go out and take his seat. Before leaving the room, Baba’s door was to be closed, and then Bhau sat outside on the chair.
Usually, every 20 or 30 minutes, Baba would invariably clap; but that night he did not clap for two hours. Bhau’s legs grew stiff from sitting rigidly in one position and the mosquitoes were biting — but Bhau did not move at all. After two hours, Bhau heard Baba snoring loudly. Thinking that it was now his chance, he began lifting his leg very slowly, without making the slightest noise. But the instant he started to raise his leg, Baba clapped.
Bhau went in, and Baba asked, “Why did you move?”
Stunned, Bhau replied, “My legs had fallen asleep and I was trying to straighten them out.”
Gesturing, Baba said, “You moved thinking I was asleep. But remember, even in sleep, My eyes roam over the entire universe. When I can see so far, can I not see you who are so near to me? Don’t ever think that because you are outside, I cannot see you! Even in sleep, I see everything, and I hear even the breathing of a stone! My sleep is conscious sleep.”
Another night, the mosquitoes were particularly thick and pestering Bhau terribly. Slowly, he raised his hand to swish them away. Baba clapped just at that moment and rebuked him for moving. While on watch, one had to sit like a statue, and even check the urge to urinate. It was next to impossible to be on watch near Baba; and when, after the accident, the watchman had to sit inside Baba’s room, it became even more difficult.
Once Bhau quietly sat on the chair in Baba’s bedroom, but after a while he felt a tickle in his throat and wanted to cough. Suppressing it, he covered his mouth with both hands, but the harder he tried to subdue it, the more forcefully the urge came. So he took his handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it in his mouth. It did not help and finally the sound “ummh, umh, uumh,” came from his throat.
Baba opened his eyes and acted upset, indicating that Bhau had disturbed his rest. He lambasted Bhau severely. But as soon as he began scolding him, Bhau’s chest constricted and in a fit of coughing the handkerchief was spit out of his mouth. Baba taunted him, “Have you come to serve me, or to harass me? I repeatedly told you not to make the slightest sound, but you disturbed my sleep, and now I will not be able to rest the whole night.”
Baba went on rebuking him every half hour and then, calling Goher, he complained about Bhau to her. The matter did not end there. Baba sent for Mehera, Mani, Meheru, Naja and Rano, and told Bhau to leave the room and stand outside by the door. This was something new, because whenever Baba spoke with the women, he would always send the watchman far away. This time he had purposely kept Bhau nearby so that Bhau could listen to everything going on inside the room.
“Then why did you make that noise?” “What can I say, Baba? I was about to die!” A look of absolute innocence came over Baba’s face. With loving concern he asked what had happened, and Bhau told him how he was trying not to cough but was about to choke. Really?” Baba asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” “You didn’t ask me and gave me no chance to explain.”
“Still you should have told Me,” Baba insisted. “Don’t you know? You put on this whole show on purpose!” Bhau declared. Baba touched his Adam’s apple and gestured, “I swear I did not know anything about it.” While swearing, Baba looked most innocent, and Bhau’s anger was swept away and he laughed. Baba embraced Bhau and caressed his face. Then Baba added, “Because I love you so much, I harass you so much. This harassment is my prasad for you.”
Another incident on night watch taught Bhau an equally valuable lesson
We are all servants of Baba,” Bhau said. “It is our good fortune that Baba assigns us such work.”
Clapping one night at Satara, Baba summoned Bhau inside, whereupon He made some hand signs. He raised both arms widely, and Bhau thought Baba wanted to embrace him. Overjoyed, Bhau spread his arms to receive the hug. Baba looked puzzled and asked, “What are you doing? I told you to pull the covering over me, and here you want to sit on my chest!” Bhau suppressed his laughter, and after adjusting the blanket walked out of the room.
The next morning, Baba informed the mandali, “Last night, I was feeling cold and called this man inside to spread my blanket — and he comes to embrace me! I felt so frightened my heart was palpitating!” Baba and everyone had a hearty laugh at Bhau’s mistake.
In 1956, after returning from England, America and Australia, Baba resumed his seclusion work in Satara. He stayed at Grafton with the women, but worked at Judge’s Bungalow with Kaikobad. The men mandali at Rosewood were under orders not to speak to any woman. One day Baba sent Bhau to the town market to buy brooms, which were usually sold only by women. Bhau looked for but failed to find any brooms being sold by a man. As he was wondering whether to buy some or not, a woman stepped away from her stall or shop leaving her son in charge. Bhau immediately went to him and bought five brooms. He was about to hand over the money when the mother returned. Throwing the money on the ground, Bhau hurried off with the brooms, thus avoiding speaking to the woman. The woman looked at him, shaking her head at his peculiar behavior.
In second incident, Baba sent Bhau to post office to send a cable. Bhau was under strict order of Baba not to speak to women. At post office counter one lady asked for pen. Bhau gave his pen to her. Coming back to Meherabad Bhau did not take back the pen from the lady afraid of speaking her by mistake though the lady kept calling to return pen.
So Bhau began to write. He would write in the daytime, and Baba would come to his room and ask him to read aloud a few pages. Baba had given the title as Divya Leela (Divine Game). As it was being read, although it was not very good, Baba would gesture, “Wonderful! Wonderful!”
Once Bhau thought however cruel a man may be, He can’t possibly be crueler than Him! Baba knows that I have this trouble, and yet, He is doing this deliberately to cause me more pain. Even an ordinary man would have taken pity on me, but He, being God, has no such consideration.”
At that moment, Baba clapped, and asked, “What are you thinking?” “Nothing,” Bhau said.
Baba scolded him, “Are you obliging Me by doing this? On the contrary, I am obliging you by giving you this opportunity to serve Me. You frighten easily. This is nothing! Even if I were to cut you into pieces, you should bear it without a word of complaint. Not even a whimper should escape your lips. “This is love. This is service. My real mercy lies in making mincemeat out of you! “This is nothing, not even the beginning!” he continued, “And even then, you complain. You think: ‘What service I am rendering!’
“What is there in your service? It has not even begun, I tell you. Were you really to serve me, there would not be any thought of self. How will you serve me when you are having thoughts about your small trouble? You are serving your affliction, not me! This is not my cruelty, but my kindness.”
Baba’s words convinced Bhau of the meaning of real service, and he could only regret his misplaced thoughts. Baba then sat up and gave Bhau a painkiller tablet. The next day he instructed Goher to give Bhau an anesthetic injection in mandali hall. The procedure was repeated four or five times, every week.
Besides night watch, one day, Baba asked Bhau to write a play and explained its theme. Baba titled it Prem Mahima (The Glory of Love). He gave certain points to be included which Bhau expanded upon. The play was finished while Baba was still at Guruprasad and was read out to him. Baba composed two ghazals to be included in it and these were sent to Rustom Kaka, who was told to begin the meeting at the Ahmednagar Center with the songs.
Once Bhau was with Baba during night watch, Baba would ask about the letters received. One day Bhau answered, “All of the letters seek just one thing — your darshan, and you do not give it!”
Explaining, Baba replied, “My work is different. It is not My work to travel continuously and hold darshan programs simply to allow people to bow down at My feet. It is not my work to give long discourses, to perform miracles, or to attract crowds to Me. I do not come for this. I come for all; I come to awaken all!
“Never before in any age have I given as much darshan to people as I have given during this advent. And still you and others complain! My darshan is something quite distinct.”
He continued to explain, “You have no idea what I am really doing. The more you stretch a bow, the greater the distance the arrow will fly and the harder it will hit the target. I am in seclusion now, yes, but I am drawing back my bow farther and farther so that when I release the arrow of my love, it will strike deep and wound the hearts of all. The wounds will make them have My darshan continuously. They will have that longing for Me, and that is My real darshan.”
Baba concluded, “I am working in seclusion to give the world my darshan. It is this darshan that will have meaning for those who love and know Me.”
In 1969, Baba went on giving him instructions. When He got the jolts, He would stop and lie quiet for a few moments; then He began again. Watching see the Beloved suffering so was the most painful sight of Bhau’s life.
Baba instructed: “Write 800 pages. Write in a simple and engaging way. Make it interesting. Make it instructive. Use four types of meters. Include the lives of the five Perfect Masters at the beginning, and also my father’s life.
“Save 100 pages for My manifestation. I will give you the meters and also tell you about My manifestation later.
Don’t worry. I will explain everything to you.”
Bhau listened and did not interrupt. To ask Baba anything at such a crucial moment would only have added to his suffering. Besides, Bhau thought, he would ask Baba for clarification when Baba improved.
It took nearly one hour for Baba to convey what he wished Bhau to write, and in the end Baba added, referring to Bhau’s writing in Hindi, “Always remember that I like your writing very much. Even if the world finds fault with it, you should not mind. I tell you honestly, remember it, I like your writing very much. And when I like it, what more do you want?”
In 1958, Bhau came into the pandal and introducing him. Baba complimented him, “He is a hard-working and sincere worker. He is with Mein Meherazad and does many various duties. He works year round and is now in Meherabad to help management.
Baba spent the first 40 days of His seclusion in strenuous activity. Bhau would do night watch.
Bhau was required to be with Baba from 6:30 P.M. to 6:30 A.M.; and he was not allowed to leave the room even once to urinate or any other purpose. He had to remain with Baba behind closed doors for the full twelve hours. In addition, during the day Bhau had other duties; so during this particular seclusion period of Baba’s, Bhau too had practically no sleep. Yet, the marvelous thing was that Bhau would not feel sleepy or in the least tired after keeping awake the whole night.
In morning, Baba would come to the hall to be with the mandali, and if Bhau happened to be in the toilet, Baba would send Pukar to call him. While he was using the toilet, Pukar would deliver this message from Baba: “Baba has come to the hall, but you need not hurry. Take your time.” After three minutes, Baba would send someone else with the same message. Bhau would then hurry up, wash and run to Baba. On one occasion, Baba asked, “Did you finish so soon? Didn’t I tell you to take your own time?”
“You were sending the same message repeatedly,” Bhau replied, “and therefore I came.”
Baba gestured, “I did not mean that you should hurry. Now remember, take your time.”
The next day, when Bhau was in the toilet, Baba sent the message three separate times and Bhau took his time. After finishing, when he came into the hall, Baba scolded him, “I was waiting for you, and you made me wait a long time! I had some urgent work for you.”
Bhau said, “Yesterday you told me to take My time.”
Baba replied, “I asked you to take your own time, but you should take your time according to My wish. Honestly, I had some urgent work for you to do today, but now I have forgotten what it was.”
Occasionally, Baba would come to mandali hall at 9:00 A.M. when all, including Bhau, had to be up and ready. This was Baba’s way: “Take your time, don’t hurry — but come soon! Don’t rush, but come immediately!” That too while one was on the toilet!
One day Baba came to the hall in morning. He asked whether Bhau was up yet. Bhau was still sleeping and Baba was informed. He gestured to the other men, “Do not make any noise; otherwise, Bhau will wake up.
He keeps watch near Mme the whole night and he should not be disturbed.” Everyone kept quiet and Baba also sat quietly for some time.
After fifteen minutes, Bhau woke up and came out of his room. Baba called him and asked, “Why did you wake up? Were you disturbed?” Bhau told him that he wasn’t. Baba then remarked, “Do you know, I was on watch and did not allow anyone to make noise. You keep watch near Me, so I kept watch near you today.” (Lord Meher-p- 4457-1958)