As mentioned, during this period of Baba’s seclusion, Bhau was keeping watch by Baba all night, and also had various daytime duties to attend to. Even when he tried to get some sleep for a few hours, the loud repetitions the other mandali were ordered to do would disturb him. When he would go for his tea at 9:00 A.M., he would get that which had been made at six o’clock. It was kept aside for him in a mug, and he had to drink it cold. After tea he would sit in the hall before Baba, and when Baba left, Bhau would go to His room to do correspondence or writing work. He could not have his lunch on time at eleven with the other men, because the errand boy from Ahmednagar would leave Meherazad at 4:00 P.M., by which hour he had to have all the outgoing mail ready. After completing his work, he would go for his meal. Baidul was the cook then, and after serving everyone he would keep Bhau’s rice and dal aside on an uncovered plate over which, as time went by, flies would hover and land. Such was the food he had to eat.
Once He asked Baidul to at least keep the food covered to avoid the flies landing on it, to which Baidul replied angrily, “This is your reward for not being on time for lunch! You should be regular, and that’s why I don’t cover your food.” Bhau said he could not help being late, as he had to finish work given to him by Baba. Baidul retorted, “For lack of time, would you also stop answering calls of nature? To take food is necessary. I don’t accept what you say. I do my duty by cooking and serving food at 11:00 A.M. I have not been given the duty of keeping food aside for anyone.” Such were the conditions under which the resident mandali had to pass their days — and it was exactly as Baba wished. This is how the Master, though loving all inwardly, was often ruthless outwardly.
Bhau’s eye problems persisted. Dadi Kerawala was present one day and suggested he apply mustard oil essence which was reputed to be beneficial. Baba told Dadi to procure it (from Bangalore). When it arrived, Baba himself applied it to Bhau’s eyes the first time and then told Bhau to apply it every day. It burned so badly that tears would pour forth from Bhau’s eyes. He would have to leave the hall, and people would observe his tears and whisper among themselves, thinking Baba was giving him an overwhelming experience of love. This went on for a few days, until Baba stopped him from applying it.
The mustard oil did not help. Bhau was on watch one night, his eyes still terribly painful, when at 1:00 A.M., Baba inquired, “Do your eyes hurt?”
“The pain is too much, Baba!”
Baba sent for the women, ordering Bhau to stand outside the door. He complained to the women, “Bhau is troubling Me a lot; he does not allow Me to rest. (Lord Meher-p-4480-1959)
He keeps complaining about the little pain in his eyes. He does nothing but harass me!”
Goher said, “His eyes really do hurt, Baba.”
“So? What can I do about it? Is he supposed to think of my comfort or his? It is his duty to see that I am comfortable.”
Baba added, “I am fed up with him! I am so disgusted that I want to send him away. These days he gives me a lot of trouble. Despite my ill health, I meet people all day long. I feel exhausted. Now, at night, he tortures me!”
Mani said, “Baba, don’t send Bhau away. Give him another chance to serve you.”
“What service will he do? He will kill me! He only thinks of himself.” Bhau was listening to every word. Baba sent the women away.
He called Bhau inside and asked if he still had pain in his eyes. Bhau, quite upset, replied, “No!” But Baba gave him some eye drops with his own hands. Bhau said, “It is not necessary.”
“Why not?”
“Before the women just now, you prescribed some very good medicine!”
“You fool! You have no idea the worth of this medicine. It is priceless and only good luck can obtain it. I have love for you, and because of that, I give it to you. But you don’t value my love. You should think that whatever Baba does is for the best. This medicine is being given to you to give you this understanding.”
Baba embraced Bhau, and Bhau calmed down. The next day, Baba sent him to a doctor in Poona and arranged for his treatment. But despite the best care, he had no relief. One day, however, after he stopped the treatment, the pain suddenly left him.
In 1959, on another occasion, Bhau’s body and head ached all over with fever. His eyes were inflamed, and his mouth and throat were dry. He was wondering how he would be able to do night watch by Baba’s side that night. When he went for his duty, Baba informed him, “My health is very bad today. My head feels as if it is going to burst open from the pain, and my whole body aches. I have a temperature, my mouth is dry and my eyes are burning. Be attentive tonight and press my feet.”
Baba had precisely listed all Bhau’s symptoms. So what was there to tell him?
Bhau quietly continued to massage Baba’s feet. After some time Bhau’s fever lessened and by midnight he felt quite well.
Once Baba was sitting in Guruprasad with the mandali. Also present were a few lovers from the Poona Center. Bal Natu had delivered a speech on Baba at the center, which all were praising. Baba commented, “Bal Natu is a gem, and see these two (pointing to Vishnu and Bhau), they are coal!”
Those who did night watch near Baba encountered many difficulties while doing their duty. The watchman had to press Baba’s legs, which in the summer heat was exhausting. That too, at a constant pressure. If one massaged Baba a bit harder, he would ask, “Are you angry with Me?” If done too softly, He would say, “Are you sleepy?” When not attending to Him, the watchman had to remain absolutely still like a statue. The slightest noise disturbed Baba’s rest. It is hard to imagine that even the swallowing of saliva would be enough sound to disturb Baba. To keep watch by Baba’s side at night was therefore among the hardest duties of all.
One time when Bhau was keeping watch near Baba, he was wearing a pair of thin pajamas. Baba was lying down snoring. He had reminded Bhau not to make any noise, and so Bhau was sitting quietly.
Suddenly, he saw that Baba’s mosquito net was not closed properly, and if it was left as it was, mosquitoes might enter it and bite him. Slowly Bhau stood up, very careful not to make any noise, and he began taking a step toward Baba’s bed.
Baba got up and asked, “Why did you move?”
Bhau said, “I did not make any noise, Baba.”
He replied, “I heard the rustling of your pajamas.” Bhau had a look of amazement on His face.
Seeing his expression, Baba lost His temper. He scolded Bhau harshly and motioned with a disgusted look, “Go back to your home. You can no longer stay with Me. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
Bhau pleaded, “Baba, trains are running nearby, buses, cars and trucks are running on the roads. They are making a lot of noise! Occasionally there are even loudspeakers blaring music outside. You do not complain about that noise, but you complain about the fluttering of my pajamas.”
Baba sternly asked him, “Tell Me whether I have chosen the trains, buses, trucks and cars to serve Me, or have I chosen you for this purpose? Whom have I chosen? I have concern with you because I allow you to serve me. What concern do I have with trains, trucks or anyone else?”
Bhau realized his mistake and felt touched by Baba’s concern for him and for the privilege he had been given by being allowed to be near Him.
Once Baba was sitting with the mandali and brought up the subject of the play he had asked Soman to write in Marathi when Baba was at Guruprasad. Interrupting the discussion, Meherdas exclaimed, “Baba, there should be a play in Hindi also.”
Baba agreed, “Yes, I want someone to write it in Hindi, but who will do it?” Remaining quiet for a few moments, he then addressed Bhau, “Why don’t you write it?”
I don’t know anything about plays,” Bhau protested. “I am not a writer.”
Baba replied, “This is not my order, but try.”
Bhau felt relieved, as Baba had said it was not his order; but in the evening, when he went to Baba’s room for night watch, Baba asked, “How many pages did you write?”
Surprised, Bhau replied, “Not a single one.”
“Why not?”
“It was not your order, Baba.”
“Yes, it was not My order — but I said to try? That was My order.”
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!”
During night watch at this time, two incidents occurred. Bhau’s health too had deteriorated. He was having terrible anal-fistula trouble and could not sit for long periods. There was constant throbbing pain and discharges of pus.
One night, the moment he entered Baba’s room, Baba asked him to massage his legs. Bhau sat on a stool by the bed, and Baba lay close to the side. Bhau began massaging Baba, even though the pressure on Bhau’s fistula was great. Gradually, Baba would shift to the other side of the bed, and Bhau had to continue pressing. The further away Baba moved the more pressure and pain Bhau felt.
When Baba was completely on the other side of the bed, Bhau picked up his stool and moved to the other side. Baba did not like it and gradually He would move back across the bed. Again, Bhau took the stool to the first side. Finally, Baba positioned himself in the middle of the bed, and Bhau had to bend over and massage his body for a long time, causing the rectal pain to be felt more intensely.
Baba did not let up. He would often remind Bhau, “Use more pressure. Do it harder. Are you sleeping? Don’t you have any energy today? Didn’t you have supper?”
Thus it went on for four hours, with Baba adding fuel to the fire, and Bhau continuing to massage His legs. Not once did Baba sit up.
In this state, these thoughts came into Bhau’s mind: “People call Baba the Ocean of Mercy, but He is the Ocean of Cruelty!
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 in mandali hall Baba instructed Goher to give Bhau an anesthetic injection. The procedure was repeated four or five times, every week.
Another incident on night watch taught Bhau an equally valuable lesson. One night Baba said He felt hungry. This was not unusual, and chocolates or some other snacks to nibble on were always kept in his bedroom. Bhau brought a tin of chocolates, opened it, and put the lid on the edge of the bed next to the tin. It was dark inside the room, as there was no electricity in Meherazad at that time. The only light source (apart from the flashlight used to read Baba’s gestures) came from a kerosene lantern outside a window. The curtain was closed, so Bhau went to open it. As he was opening it, Baba reached for the chocolates without looking at the tin. As He put His hand in the box, the lid was accidentally knocked off the bed and fell on Baba’s shin.
Becoming furious, Baba berated Bhau, “Oh, how hard the lid landed on My foot. The pain is terrible! Have you come here to serve Me or to cause Me pain? How careless you are.”
Bhau felt frightened and realized his mistake. Baba continued, “I will not be able to sleep now with so much pain. I cannot bear it!”
Baba did not take any chocolates and continued to scold Bhau for half an hour, using such choice epithets for him as: “ill-omened fellow … madcap … fool … careless idiot … stupid blockhead,” ending with, “You are My enemy; you have come to kill Me!”
Baba then said, “I don’t think I will be able to sleep, but I will try.” He lay down to rest, but after five minutes sat up again, gesturing, “There is so much pain in My foot, I can’t bear it. I can’t sleep now. Why are you so careless? What sort of service are you rendering? You are really killing Me!”
Bhau felt repentant and kept quiet. Baba motioned, “I’ll try again, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” and he lay down.
But again, after five minutes Baba sat up and began complaining, “It is terrible, I tell you, terrible! My leg is aching so much, it is now unbearable. It is not possible for me to sleep!
“Have you come here to kill Me? Don’t you feel bad about my suffering? Don’t you at least repent for your carelessness? Is your heart made of stone? Do you do night watch only to harass Me? You are shameless!” He went on in this vein for about an hour.
Bhau felt miserable, but the lid was so thin it could not possibly have hurt much. Bhau’s mind began to work. He started thinking: “Baba says He bears the infinite burden of the world and suffers infinitely. How can He feel so much pain from such a small, practically insignificant injury? Even an ordinary man would hardly have felt it. It was nothing!”
Moments later, Baba sat up again. “What do you gain by tormenting Me?” He asked. “Just answer Me. I suffer so much, and you don’t feel it one iota. What a shameless man you are! Now I don’t even feel like seeing your face! You have come to kill Me!”
Baba lay down, and Bhau’s mind continued thinking: “If He cannot bear this much, how is he able to endure universal suffering, as He says he does?
It is all just words, mere philosophy!”
Bhau had seen Baba suffer continually. He had observed for Himself how, after the second automobile accident, even when grievously injured, not a single sound had passed from Baba’s lips. Yet, the human mind is like this: It wanders here and there on the slightest pretext. Bhau forgot everything and began to question Baba’s unendurable anguish.
Baba got up and gestured, “Come here, sit down.”
Bhau was standing and, because he was upset, he said, “I am all right here.”
“Obey me.”
Bhau sat near him, and Baba explained, “Listen to what I say. What were you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you take Me to be? Tell Me.”
“You are my Master.”
“And what are you?”
“Your slave.”
“What is the duty of the slave?”
“To please the Master.”
“And do you please Me? If you are My slave, it is your duty to serve Me. You should treat Me as you would a tender flower. Have you any idea what happened to this flower when the lid struck it? Its petals were crushed, not from the injury but because of your carelessness.
“Because you have accepted Me as your Master and I have accepted you as My slave, it is the duty of the Master to see that the slave does his duty properly. And because I have accepted you as My slave, I am duty-bound to see that you serve and please Me correctly.
“If the Himalayas fell on My head, what would that be to Me? Nothing. If someone threw a stone at Me, it would not have hurt as much as what happened here tonight. Why do I have this pain? Because of the carelessness of My slave. Because I have accepted you as My slave, I cannot bear the slightest carelessness on your part.
“But instead of thinking that you have displeased Me, you thought only: ‘How can he bear infinite suffering?’ Have you the least idea of My suffering? Your duty is to serve and please me at any cost, not to think about My infinite burden. It does not behoove you to think like this. By pondering such things, you cannot really call yourself My slave.
“So remember: Your negligence makes Me suffer much more than untold suffering, as I cannot tolerate the slightest carelessness on the part of My slave. And since you are My slave, treat Me as you would a flower.”
Bhau cooled down at once, and he repented greatly for his thoughts. To make this lesson penetrate his heart, Baba had spent four hours over this matter. It was a lesson Bhau would never forget. The Avatar’s mercy is unimaginable. He is Mercy Personified, and He dispenses only that.
Bhau had never written devotional songs in his life (he had studied chemistry, agriculture and law in college), and his abilities in these literary pursuits were all due to Baba’s encouragement, inspiration and inner help.
In 1960, one day, however, when Baba asked him to write something else, Bhau protested, “Baba, I am neither a writer nor a poet. I don’t know the use of language properly. Why do you give me such work? There are many good writers and poets in India, and if they come to you they would write sublime things.”
Baba considered this for a moment and then asked, “Do you know any of these writers and poets?”
“Yes, I have heard of them,” Bhau said. “They are very popular in India.”
“All right,” Baba acquiesced. “Write to them about Me, and if they are interested, I may call them.”
Bhau wrote to several well-known poets and writers, and Baba appeared anxious to bring them in his contact. Bhau thought that they would definitely come, because Baba was showing so much interest in them. After a few days, polite letters were received from a few of them. They were read out to Baba and He felt happy to hear them, but He did not give any instructions to be conveyed to them, which disappointed Bhau. Bhau wrote to them on his own and sent them some of Baba’s messages.
Again, he informed Baba, “Some of these famous persons will definitely come to you, and if they come they will write sublimely about you.”
Baba asked, “Have you got any of their writings?” Bhau said he had a few copies of some of them. Baba asked him to bring them and read them out to him. After he did so, Baba commented, “What is there in these writings? It is most dry! Only the language is good, nothing else. Is there any flow of love? Tell Me the truth, isn’t it just words? Never write to them again. They will not come to Me.”
He then said, “Do you think I ask you to write in vain? Have you got any idea about your writings? There is a flow of love in it. It flows and flows. Remember that I like your writings. What more do you want?” Bhau kept quiet and continued writing when Baba requested.
Bhau’s anal fistula had become severe. Baba dropped him off at Booth Hospital in Ahmednagar where he was to have surgery two days later. Don attended the operation and looked after him, assisted by Sidhu. Baba also visited the Satha family at Akbar Press at 8:15 A.M. on the 6th, and again at 8:30 A.M. on the 15th, when He also visited Bhau in his room at Booth Hospital.
In another event, Bhau was keeping watch in Baba’s room as usual. A taxicab suddenly pulled up outside. Hearing it, Baba sent Bhau to find out who had come. From it stepped Dr. R. P. Asthana, the principal of Nagpur College where Bhau had gone to school. But neither recognized the other until they introduced themselves. Asthana asked, “Kalchuri, what are you doing here?”
“I am a night watchman,” Bhau said.
Surprised, Principal Asthana declared, “A night watchman? What do you mean?” Bhau just smiled and inquired where he was staying. Asthana said, “I am staying at the Agha Khan’s bungalow,” which was a grand residence.
Bhau asked him to be seated and went to inform Baba, who said, “Tell him to come tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. But since he was your principal, send him to the Agha Khan’s bungalow in our car. He will feel pleased that his former student takes such good care of him. Instruct the driver to come back immediately after dropping him there.”
Bhau went and told Principal Asthana, who protested, “No, no, that is not necessary.
Bhau would keep watch until midnight, and afterwards. During these days, Bhau felt as if a thunderstorm were bursting over his head. Baba showed His aversion to him and would not allow him to come near Him. At night, Bhau would be on watch, and during the day he would remain in His room writing. He was working on Hindi ghazals at the time (later titled Meher Geet Sudha (Songs of Meher’s Wine), but Baba was totally indifferent toward his efforts. Bhau felt as if Baba’s days were numbered and His life was coming to an end. All the mandali felt similarly.
Becoming indifferent to all, Baba made them interested in His disinterestedness. The more passive He was, the more attentive they were to Him. On account of His indifferent attitude, the mandali were more determined and cautious than ever in following His behests to avoid the least cause of annoyance to Him.
In 1965, because of the impending sahavas, the mandali’s work was increasing. Moreover, due to Baba’s constant scoldings, Bhau felt terribly harassed. At night, he was to be on duty by Baba, but even during the daytime he had to be present most of the time in Baba’s room. As a result, Bhau had no time in which to do either correspondence or the writing of speeches. Baba was sending Sarosh, Viloo and Chhagan to Uttar Pradesh and other places, to participate in important public functions, and one of Bhau’s assignments was to write their various speeches in Hindi.
One day Baba gave Bhau some urgent work to do, but, because he was with Baba in His room the entire day, there was simply no time to finish it. When Baba asked if Bhau had done the work, he replied, “No, I did not have time.”
Baba scolded him and later that night, as he was pressing Baba’s legs, Bhau was so distressed he thought: “It would be better if I die. I cannot leave Baba because I know I could never be happy without him, but I cannot serve him, either. I don’t do anything right, and he gets annoyed with me. It is best I die!”
While Bhau was thinking these thoughts, suddenly Baba sat up and gestured to him, “Show Me how you will walk when you are 70.”
Bhau blurted out, “But I don’t want to live to be 70! I want to die!”
“But just show Me how you will walk.”
So Bhau had to walk back and forth across the bedroom hunched over like an old man.
Baba made him go from one corner to another about four times. After the third time, Bhau began laughing and his depression lifted. Baba remarked, “You still have lots of work to do. You have no idea about it now.”
In another incident in his room at Meherazad that afternoon at about 4:00 P.M., Baba remarked to Bhau, “Today, the Ahmednagar people are going to celebrate My birthday publicly. This evening, they are having a big parade through the town. I know they have all worked very hard, and this makes Me happy. I, in turn, want them to feel pleased that the celebrations come off well. But if it rains, then everything will be spoiled! Do you think it will rain?”
Bhau said, “No, Baba, it won’t rain! The sky is clear.”
“But if it rains, what will happen? Sarosh will be the most upset, because he has worked day and night for the procession. Do you think it will rain? Go and look at the sky.”
Bhau went outside to look and came back and repeated the same thing, “It won’t rain, Baba”.The sky is very clear. There is no sign of rain. Don’t worry, Baba. Just rest now.”
Baba lay down and did not reply, but after five minutes he sat up again and asked Bhau to look outside to see if there were any clouds. Bhau looked and reported that there were no clouds. “This is not even the monsoon season,” Bhau pointed out.
Baba continued to send him outside every fifteen minutes or so, and when he went to look at five o’clock, dark rain clouds filled the sky. Bhau hurried to tell Baba, who exclaimed, “See! I warned you! Now, what will happen?” and as soon as Baba gestured this, rain started pouring down.
Bhau was stunned. Baba gestured, “Go right now and tell Aloba to ride [on his bicycle] to the pumping station and phone Adi and ask if it is raining in Ahmednagar.” Since it was pouring outside, Bhau asked Goher to bring him an umbrella, but Baba gestured impatiently, “Hurry! Go right now!” So, Bhau ran across the compound to the men’s side without an umbrella, getting soaking wet. He gave Aloba the message and returned to Baba.
Baba immediately asked him, “Did you tell Aloba to bring the message to Me here after he phones Adi?”
“No, Baba. How could I tell him that? No one is allowed to come to your room unless you call them.”
“Go! Go and tell him,” Baba said. “I have never seen such an idiot like you!” Again, Bhau had to dash out into the rain and give Aloba the instructions to bring the news about the phone call to Baba’s room. Aloba had already left, so Bhau told Meherwan to tell him when he returned.
When Bhau returned to Baba’s room, he was drenched and quite irritated, thinking: “What is the hurry about phoning Adi? If it is raining in Ahmednagar, it is raining! What will Baba do about it? Here I am, soaking wet, and I have to sit with Baba until midnight in these wet clothes!”
As Bhau entered Baba’s room, Baba gestured, “If there is rain in Ahmednagar, everything will be ruined!”
Bhau replied, “Whether the program there gets ruined or not, My program here is completely spoiled! I am drenched!”
Baba just smiled and gestured to him, “Come here,” and taking His own handkerchief, he tenderly and lovingly began to wipe Bhau’s face.
Bhau said, “I can do it.”
Jim Mistry and Khorshed had been invited to Meherazad from Bombay for the birthday celebration. One afternoon in the hall, while Bhau was massaging Baba’s legs with powder, Jim Mistry said, “Baba, I have brought a special bottle of oil which is very good for massaging.”
Baba told him to bring it, and Jim handed it to Bhau. Because Bhau knew that Baba did not like anything greasy, he took just a little of the oil and began rubbing it into Baba’s legs. Jim joked, “You miser! Why do you take so little? Use more!”
It was very warm that day, and Bhau was perspiring as he massaged Baba’s leg. Jim kept teasing him to use more oil. Eventually, Baba motioned for Jim to come over and instructed, “Now, you massage one leg and Bhau will massage the other.” Jim was caught in his own trickery! He was not used to such exertion, and after more than an hour, he was completely worn out. Bhau was accustomed to it, but Jim had never massaged Baba before. Afterwards, he had a good laugh at himself for the lesson Baba taught him.
During this period, an entire week passed by, during which Bhau had no opportunity to read aloud those letters forwarded to him. On the morning of the eighth day, Bhau took the considerable stack of letters with him into the hall, thinking that that day Baba would hear them and dictate suitable replies.
Baba looked at him and gestured, “Today, I have got a headache; you reply to them.”
As soon as he conveyed this, a thought came into Bhau’s mind: “What sort of God is He? His lovers are really great.
Baba lovers do not want anything spiritual or material from Him; they only want His darshan. And He says, ‘No darshan!’ Then they expect a few loving words from Him directly, and He says, ‘You reply!’ ”
But Bhau did not say anything, and Baba also did not ask him anything. When Baba retired to His room that afternoon at three o’clock, Bhau followed Him. At one point, Baba asked, “How many letters did you write today?”
Irritated, Bhau replied, “Not a single letter, Baba!”
“Why not?”
“Where was the time? I was with you in the hall and when you came here I followed you.”
“Yes, you are right. But tell Me, what were you thinking back in the hall?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell Me the truth!” So Bhau repeated what had passed through his mind — about Baba’s lovers being great and only wishing for His darshan. Baba replied, “Yes, you are right. My lovers are really great. But what do you mean by thinking this? You have been with Me for so many years, yet you still don’t understand what I am doing for them! If they come to Me, what will they see? This physical form. This is nothing!”
Baba hit His thigh with His fist, the sign He would make for His seclusion work, and gestured, “This is the real thing I am giving them, and you will witness with your own eyes what will happen to those who have not seen Me physically. Although they have not seen Me physically — they are with Me and I am working for them. They are present here.”
During these final months, Baba had also been dictating lines to Bhau to be incorporated into ghazals. On the evening of the 29th, he dictated this line in Hindi, and told Bhau to write a ghazal based on its theme: “What will we live for now, when you have gone away?”