One's coming to Meher Baba is His loving act of bringing one to Him.
Baba once conveyed that He rings the bell in the hearts of His dear
ones and the sound of it leads them to Him. One cannot be proud of
doing work in His name or even loving Baba, for it is Babašs grace
that allows us to live and work for Him. This reminds me of Rumišs
line: "I never knew that God, too, desires us." Here are two stories
that convinced me how Babašs wish can change situations around,
clearing the way for me to reach Him.
* * * * * * *
In mid-July, 1948, I learned that on the 23rd of that month, Meher
Baba was going to have a small darshan program at Meherabad for some
of His devotees from Sholapur. At that time I was working as a
teacher in Kurduwadi, which is in Sholapur district. I wrote to Adi
Sr. asking if I could avail myself of this glorious opportunity to be
in Babašs divine physical presence. Adi wrote back that I could
come, but that I should inform Shri Jaju, who was the head of the
Sholapur group, of my wish to attend. I did so by letter, informing
him of my intention to join the group at Kurduwadi when their train
stopped there. That same day I put in an application to the
headmaster for a dayšs leave, but he denied my request on the grounds
that a school inspection was due on any one of the coming days. He
was newly appointed and I was not well acquainted with him, so I did
not tell him that I wished to visit Meher Baba. I stated that I had
some urgent work and requested that he please grant my leave. My
last words ended on a pleading note, but he flatly refused.
Something inside me crumbled, and it was hard to pull myself
together. "Will I not have your darshan, Baba?" I implored inwardly.
I approached my headmaster on each of the next two days asking him to
reconsider my request. As he was in the habit of taking snuff, I
thought to myself, "Maybe if he is having his snuff and in a good
mood, he will change his mind." I was taking a chance in asking, but
he remained adamant in his decision, saying, "What! Did I not tell
you twice before? Join your class, sir!"
The passenger train carrying the Sholapur group was to pass through
Kurduwadi at midnight. Greatly disappointed, I went to the station
in my house clothes to inform my friends that I would not be able to
accompany them after all. With extremely low spirits I bid them
welcome and farewell. They sympathized with my ill luck in missing
this rare opportunity to have Baba's darshan, and I asked one of them
to convey in silence my salutations to Beloved Baba.
As the steam engine train was about to leave, an elderly member of
the group asked me, "Aren't you coming with us?" I said, "No." He
asked why, and I explained that my headmaster had not sanctioned my
leave. With a surprised look he remarked, "Has the headmaster any
right to deprive you of the darshan of a Perfect Master? Who is
greater, the headmaster or the Perfect Master?" And then
spontaneously, he ordered, "Get in the train, our Beloved Master will
see to your headmaster!" The driver had blown the steam whistle and
the engineer had shown the green flag and whistled that he was also
ready. As the train started, impulsively I jumped in. When the
train was moving out of the station I had the thought, "What will my
family members think about me? They wonšt know where I have gone."
Just then the train passed by the water column, and I noticed that
the man who turned the wheel to disengage it from the train was my
neighbor. I called out to him, "Please tell my brother that I have
gone to Ahmednagar, and not to worry about me." At the time I didnšt
even think about it, but the coincidence that I just happened to see
the one railway employee who lived next door to me and could easily
convey my message was typical of the hidden help Baba has always
given me. In my early years with Baba, His help came in such a
natural manner that I didnšt even recognize Baba's loving touch. Now
I have come to see such moments as Babašs personal way of conversing
with me.
Anyway, at the time I felt greatly relieved that I had been able to
deliver this message and sat back to enjoy my time with the others.
Although I had no ticket, no money, nor even a change of clothing, I
was not worried. Beloved Baba had become my refuge. Really in those
days, Baba blessed me with a freedom from anxiety which is completely
foreign to my nature.
By early morning we reached Dhond junction, where we had to change to
the train for Ahmednagar. I was able to send a telegram from there
to the headmaster regarding my absence. At Dhond we met the Baba
bhajan party from Poona, led by the late R.K. Gadekar. It was an
added joy to hear them singing with such devotion, even in the train
compartment.
One of the pilgrims knew a railway employee who arranged that the
train would stop at Meherabad for us to get down, even though there
was no station or manned crossing there. This was wonderful for me,
for now I did not have to face the ticket collector when
disembarking. With cheers of "Meher Baba ki Jai," we left the train.
Upon hearing the cheers, a few people from Babašs ashram came out to
receive us and give us the good news that Baba had already arrived at
Meherabad. The handshakes and embraces continued until we reached
the main building.
We were asked to assemble in the new hall at Lower Meherabad by 9:00
a.m. There were about 250 Baba lovers from Sholapur, Barsi, Poona,
Bombay, and Ahmednagar. Everyone stood up as Baba entered the hall
exactly at 9:30 a.m., and all called out, "Sadguru Meher Baba ki
Jai!" With divine decorum Baba took His seat in a corner, opposite
where His chair now stands in the hall today. To see Baba was to see
beauty enformed, and He looked radiant as He sat there. In His
vibrant presence, our senses, particularly seeing and hearing, were
made active and alert. Every eye was on Baba to catch His loving
glance or gesture. He had a handsome countenance, with delicately
chiseled lips. One may say that His form reflected a charming
Persian heritagea straight nose, thin and shining skin, and a broad
foreheadyet He appeared to belong to no race in particular. Baba
looked very gentle and radiantly graceful. His eyes sparkled with a
heavenly light which was piercing yet soothing. They reflected a
quality of timelessness. Hence, they seemed so knowing, yet so
oblivious of everything, as well.
When all had settled down, Baba allowed the visitors from Poona and
Sholapur to pay their individual respects to Him, though no one was
allowed to touch His feet. Some had brought beautiful garlands for
Baba, and others nicely wrapped boxes of sweets. Whatever was given
to Him, Baba accepted with great love. I had nothing tangible to
offer Him, so I was shy to approach Him. Without going closer to His
seat, I stood up and folded my hands to Baba and lowered my head.
Just at that time, Baba turned His head to someone else and remained
busy conversing with him. For a moment I felt hurt at being so
ignored, but quickly resigned myself to His will.
After these personal meetings and greetings, all were seated, and we
started singing The Seven Names of God: "Hari, Paramatma, Allah,
Ahuramazda, God, Yezdan, Hu." In the 1920šs Baba had told His close
ones to repeat these names for a certain length of time every day.
The chanting seemed to heighten the heartwarming atmosphere and
despite efforts of self-control, a few sobs escaped now and then from
some of His lovers, such as Gadekar. Subhadra Bundellu from Poona
sang bhajans, and Dr. Ghani gave a short speech commemorating the
occasion.
As this was only an hour-long darshan, at 10:30 a.m. Baba got up from
His seat, blessed all with a smile, returned to His cabin and later
proceeded to Rusišs bungalow, His residence at the time in Ahmednagar.
I returned back to Kurduwadi that night, and the next day I went back
to school as usual. With some trepidation I approached the
headmasteršs office. I felt duty bound to explain the circumstances
affecting my decision to be absent. As he had specifically denied me
leave on three separate occasions, I assumed that he would,
understandably, be quite angry with me and that I would find him in a
bitter fury. I gathered up my courage and went inside. But as I
entered the room, he was busy reading some official letters, and
before I could open my mouth, I was amazed to hear him say, "I
received your telegram. You were absent in spite of my explicit
refusal to grant leave." After a brief pause, he opened his snuff
box, inhaled a pinch and continued, "But now, as I look back, I think
you must have had a really strong reason to leave; otherwise you
would not have gone!" I could not believe my ears. My spirits rose
even higher as he concluded, "So I have officially sanctioned your
leave. Now, go and attend to your work." My fear and worry were
instantly replaced by high spirits. Baba had come to my rescue. The
fact that my headmaster didnšt know anything about Baba, or that I
had left to see Baba, and wouldnšt have approved if he had known,
only made Babašs hand in all this that much easier to see.
At Meherabad I had been a bit sad when Baba had not outwardly
acknowledged me. But now, as I came out of the headmasteršs office,
I felt that his willing sanctioning of my "unsanctioned" leave was
Babašs secret gift to me in response to my loving salutations to Him
the day before, which I wrongly felt He had ignored. Over the years
I have noticed that Baba seems to delight in humorously using those
who do not know Him as channels for His grace to flow to those who
try to love Him.
* * * * * * *
While Baba was staying in Satara in 1955, I was working as a teacher
in Kurduwadi. The academic year was to end by the last week of
April, and the school would then be closed for a six-week period of
summer vacation. Naturally, I was thinking about whether I would
have the opportunity to see Baba during this time. Baba was leading
a secluded life at Satara, but I was allowed to correspond with
Eruch. About this time, I received a letter from Eruch which showed
me that Baba knew the longing of my heart. He wrote, "Baba wants you
to be in Satara on 23rd April evening, if it is absolutely convenient
and if you can safely and easily get leave."
I was overjoyed to get this call, but there was a slight "catch" to
it. Eruch had underlined the word "if" each time he had used it, and
to reach Satara by the evening of the 23rd I would have to leave my
home that same morning, which happened to be the last working day of
the school year. According to school regulations, anyone absent on
the last day forfeited all of his six weeks of vacation pay.
Although I very much wanted to see Baba, the petty thought of losing
six weeksš salary weighed on my mind. Was it "absolutely convenient"
for me to forgo such a sum of money, given my meager finances? I
wasnšt sure what to do. Naturally, I turned to Baba internally and
called on Him for the right decision. But I never imagined that Baba
would arrange the situation so that I would see Him, without losing
"mammon" in the bargain!
I made up my mind to leave the morning of the 23rd, regardless of the
results, and went to see my headmaster to explain the situation. To
my utter astonishment, he told me that our particular school was
going to be on a special schedule and had been assigned the job by
the government of collecting census data, which happens only every
ten years. Consequently our summer vacation period had been
postponed for one week. This meant that the 23rd was no longer the
last working day of the school year!
So I had to seek the permission from my headmaster to get excused
from this census work. To my surprise he did grant me leave for that
day, graciously excusing me from having to work on the government
project. Isnšt it true that whenever Baba gives, He gives with both
hands!
I could not have imagined such a thing happening. It was only
because of Babašs wish, that I was able to attend one of the
important meetings at Satara where Baba clarified His Final
Declaration that He had given at Meherabad in September, 1954. Baba
blessed me with some very intimate moments with Him at that meeting,
which are etched on my heart even to this day. He is indeed the
All-Knowing One, the Avatar.
By Bal Natu

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