Tavern Talk - Two Tasty Nuggets from Mandali Hall

Last week in Mandali Hall, Meherazad, pilgrims and residents were regaled by Dorab Satha, cousin to Eruch and longtime Baba lover from Mumbai. Dorab had been blessed with many opportunities for Meher Baba's darshan in the 1950s and 60s; and the reminiscences he shared were surcharged with the feeling and fragrance of those wonderful times with the Beloved.

Unfortunately I missed the first session; but here are two anecdotes from the Hall as recounted by Dorab a week ago Thursday.

One of Dorab's stories concerns Hafiz, Meher Baba's favorite poet, whose poetry Dorab too knew intimately, having been ordered by Baba to write out one of the Master-poet's ghazals each time he wrote a letter to Him.

On one occasion with Baba the subject of a certain couplet of Hafiz's arose. The couplet reads thus:
Gunah agar che nabood be ikhtiyare maa Hafiz
Tu dar tarike adabkoosh wo goo gunahe manast.

This translates:

Though the fault be not of your own choosing, O Hafiz,
Strive in the way of manners and say, The fault is mine.

Now this couplet is not on the face of it particularly easy to understand. But Baba explained that it had a background that only He knew. And He proceeded to narrate the following story.

It seems that Hafiz had recently spent a morning alone with His Master, Mohammed Attar, who had been telling him to perform various foolish and odd actions. Without questioning, Hafiz did as he was ordered. But that evening, a crowd of disciples and followers came for the Master's darshan. Attar availed himself of the opportunity to belittle and ridicule Hafiz, telling the people, "This morning, do you know what this man did? What a dolt! What a donkey!" And he proceeded to relate all of Hafiz's odd behavior without mentioning that Hafiz had done these things in obedience to his own instructions!

At this time many of the Master's followers were feeling great jealousy toward Hafiz, and the Master's ridicule was like music to their ears. And Hafiz, for his part, was unable to defend himself, for to do so, he would have to have shown his own Master in an unfavorable light. What a trap! Concerned for his Master's dignity and not wanting to let him down, Hafiz had to swallow his pride and take all of this humiliation upon his own head.

The path to God is constantly beset with trials such as this. Indeed, as the great Urdu poet Jigar has said in another line that Dorab cited:
Yeh ishq nahin aasaan, itnaa to samajh lijiye,
Ek aag kaa daryaa hai, aur doob ke jaanaa hai!

This love is not so easy try to understand this much:
It is an ocean of fire, and one passes through by drowning in it.

The second story was a personal one on Dorab's part, and very touching. It concerned the meeting at Meherazad on October 13th 1968 to which Baba invited a small number of workers from Pune, Mumbai, and other places. The participants were under strict orders not to ask Baba for anything, not to give Him anything, and not to convey any messages.

Dorab's cousin Burjor had been called to attend, but Dorab himself had not been invited. Nonetheless, Dorab felt prompted to ask Burjor to carry with him a bottle of Yardley Lavender perfume, Baba's favorite. Naturally Burjor refused, citing Baba's order. But Dorab appealed to him: "I'm not asking you actually to give it to Baba. I'm just asking you to take it with you in your bag, and when you return, to bring it back again."

Eventually Burjor yielded. The October 13th meeting went well, and at its conclusion, the attendees were all dismissed from Mandali Hall. But immediately Burjor was summoned back inside. "Have you brought anything for Me?" Baba asked him. "No, no!" Burjor answered. "Don't try to deceive Me!" Baba said. "If you have brought something, you should give it to Me." So Burjor handed over the bottle of perfume; and before he even had time to return to Mumbai, Dorab received a telegram from Baba saying that the perfume which he had sent with so much love had been received by Him, and that He sent His love blessings to Dorab and his wife Roshan and child Percis.

This story has a sequel. Over that final year of Baba's physical lifetime, for reasons no doubt known to Him alone, Baba had refused to take a bath. The women mandali were becoming extremely anxious over Baba's skin condition and sent an S.O.S. to Eruch, asking for his help.

After at least one failure (and Eruch's account of this is worth retelling in its own right), at last he prevailed through a ruse. For after Baba had still another time refused to take a bath, Eruch pleaded with Him,"At least let me wash Your feet!" For the delicate skin on Baba's feet had become extremely dry and would peal off with the slightest rubbing.

Finally Baba agreed, and Eruch brought into Baba's room the basin of scented warm water that he had prepared for this contingency. At first he bathed Baba's feet, then His ankles, and then, with more coaxing, His legs, and so on, until he had given Him a complete bath despite protests from Baba all along! When he was finished, Baba said to Eruch, "You learned this trick from Me." For Baba had done the same thing Himself during His mast tours of the 1940s when He was trying to give baths to reluctant masts!

The perfume with which Eruch had scented the water was from Dorab's bottle of Yardley Lavender. As it happened, this was the last bath that Baba ever took. He dropped His body a week or two later.

Thus in His own unique way Baba arranged that the perfume used in His final bath would have been given to Him with love by one of His own lovers.

Such was the fare that Beloved Baba provided to us last week at Mandali Hall, Meherazad.

=Ward Parks, for Tavern Talk
6th November 2002

Tavern Talk is the electronic newsletter of the Avatar Meher Baba Trust.

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