Baba Loved Us Too

De Simple Silence.

Stories of Meher Baba and His pets

Baba Loved Us Too. Stories of Meher Baba and His Pets.
Author	Mehera
Country	USA
Language	English
Publisher	Sheriar Press
Publication date	1989

Contents 1 Bhooty Of The Himalayas 2 First Day In Charge Of The Birds 3 Choo.. Chum 4 Baba's Prasad 5 The White Donkey 6 The White Horse 7 Goats 8 Mittu

[modifier] Bhooty Of The Himalayas

Baba had heard of a mast living in the foothills of the Himalayas and He wanted to contact him. I can’t recall the exact region of the Himalayas, but Baba and five of the men mandali set out to contact this mast. It was an arduous journey as Baba and the men mandali had to hike for many miles in the hot sun and through rocky and steep hills along narrow paths.

We girls, of course, did not accompany Baba on these mast trips, but often when Baba returned, He would share stories of their adventures.

On this journey as they were walking through one of the valleys that connect the foothills of the Himalayas, Baba noticed a scattering of goats and sheep grazing in the distance and a darling black mountain puppy. The puppy was immediately drawn to Baba and came scampering over. Baba stopped for a minute to pet her and then turned toward the steep hill that He and the mandali were about to climb. The puppy continued to follow Baba. She would playfully frisk and jump at Baba’s feet. As they climbed higher and higher up the ridge of the mountain, the pup, undaunted, tagged along from behind. Now the path was getting dangerous, being barely wide enough for one or two people. On one side was a sheer drop and on the other side the wall of the mountain.

Suddenly, they heard a whimpering sound behind them. To their dismay, they saw that the puppy had slipped off the edge and was dangling from a rock below. The puppy was just managing to hold on to the ledge with its two front paws ! Baba rushed to the puppy and lifted her to safety. He gestured to the mandali, « This puppy is really brave and strong to have held on to the rock until I could save her. I like her very much. »

Baba and the men continued on, this time with one of the mandali carrying the puppy. When they reached the mast Baba met with him alone, while the mandali stood at a distance with their backs to Baba. As soon as Baba’s work was completed to His satisfaction, they began the journey home. When they crossed that same valley where Baba had first seen the puppy, He had one of the men mandali enquire if the owner would part with the dog. The man agreed, and so Baba brought the puppy all the way back to Ahmednagar...

When Baba returned from His mast trip, He told us the story of the puppy’s narrow escape from death, and how He had rescued her. Baba’s gestures were so perfect in their expression that we all listened spellbound. In silence, how eloquently Baba spoke. He made the story come alive.

When we saw the puppy we fell in love with her. She was fluffy and plump and really lovely to look at. Baba told us He had brought the puppy for Kaka as she would make a good watchdog, being a pure Tibetan Mastiff. These dogs are known for their fearlessness and are very strong.

Baba named the puppy Gol-Gol (round-round) because she was just that. Kaka called her Gul (flower), and we girls called her Bhooty because she looked like she was wearing booties or slippers. Her paws were white, then to her ankles she was brown, and the rest of her was black. Above each eye was a yellow spot giving her the appearance of having four eyes ! And, I’m not exaggerating, her coat was so thick that you couldn’t part it...

Baba wanted Bhooty to know that we girls belonged to the house. Baba one day told us to stand on the verandah of the house, as He was going to bring Bhooty over to meet us. We were to speak to her in our own voices so that she could get used to us. Baba brought Bhooty over on a short leash. Bhooty walked like a Parisian lady wearing high heels — each step measured daintily, not like an ordinary dog. She was a purebred and wanted us to know it...

When Bhooty had puppies we were with Baba in Poona. Baba sent word to Kaka that he wanted to see the puppy that looked most like its mother. Adi Senior arranged to drive Kaka — with the prized puppy held on Kaka’s lap — to Poona in his car. That puppy was Mastan, Baba’s most beloved pet.

[modifier] First Day In Charge Of The Birds

I don’t think you have salunkis in the West, but these birds are very common here. They are lovely little birds, biscuit coloured, with a little black cap on their heads and dark feathers. And they really have a sweet voice.

During those early cloistered years at Meherabad, Baba one day brought us some salunkis to keep as pets. Someone had given them to Baba and so He gave them to us.

Khorshed was told by Baba to take care of the birds. She was to change their water, feed them, and clean their cage. Everything was fine for a few days. Then Khorshed cut her finger while working in the kitchen. It was a tiny cut, hardly noticeable, but she didn’t take proper care of it and the cut became septic. In India, one has to be extremely careful about dirt. A small insignificant wound can become infected overnight. And this is exactly what happened to Khorshed.

Baba told Khorshed that she shouldn’t clean the cage of the salunkis until her cut had healed. Mani and I were now to be in charge of the birds. I have to laugh when I think of the two of us. We felt so proud to be in charge of those birds. Mani and I were determined to give the best care possible to the salunkis. We cleaned their cage until it sparkled, gave them sunbaths outside—everything we could think of we did for those birds. The whole morning passed by in making sure they had fresh water and enough lettuce and bird seed to eat.

Just as we were admiring our morning’s labour of love, we were called to the kitchen for lunch. It was early and Baba had not yet arrived. He was still with the men mandali. Mani and I went to the kitchen and sat down to eat.

While we were eating, one of the servant girls came into the kitchen and told Mani and me that the salunkis were on the roof ! We were used to seeing wild salunkis chirping away as they perched on our roof. So we thought she was referring to the wild birds. But the girl was insistent. She said, « No. They aren’t the wild birds, they are ours. The cage is empty ! Our birds are on the roof ! »

Mani and I looked at each other in shock ! Here we had done our very best for Baba to take care of those birds, and would you believe it, we forgot to shut the cage door. Such a simple thing and we both forgot.

Mani and I didn’t know what to do. Soon Baba came and we told Him what had happened. Baba certainly wasn’t pleased, He looked at us, gesturing, « You did everything so perfectly, how is it that you forgot to close the cage door ? » Mani and I didn’t say a word, but we each remembered how proud we had felt in doing such a good job—especially because it was our first day in charge of the birds. And we knew that whatever contact Baba had wanted with the birds was now broken. But Baba took it well. He just said, « Never mind, let them be free. »

[modifier] Choo.. Chum

One day Baba came into the kitchen looking very pleased. He had a naughty twinkle in His eye as He pointed at a stuffed fox He was holding in His hand. Baba signed, "Isn't it lovely?" and we agreed, for it was lovely indeed. The expression on its face really made you feel it was quite alive!

We all shared in the fun with Baba, admiring the stuffed fox and commenting on its unusual beauty. After a few minutes, we put it in the corner out of the way. Baba finished His meal, read a while, and then as usual told us He would rest for a few minutes. You know, Baba's sleep was very light. The slightest sound might disturb Him, so after finishing our chores, we would sit quietly while Baba rested, knowing that at any moment He might wake up.

Now what got into Naja's head, I don't know — perhaps Naja was just plain bored — but very softly she started calling "Choo... Chum" all the while pointing furtively at the stuffed fox lying in the corner. Chum, dozing nearby, at first ignored Naja's whispered call. But in India, dogs respond to the word "Choo". It excites their interest and when said with force, alerts them to danger.

We couldn't imagine what Naja was thinking; after all, she knew as well as we did that Baba shouldn't be disturbed while resting. But Naja was determined to find out Chum's reaction to the fox. We girls just sat there, wide-eyed and transfixed, not knowing what would happen next. Finally, the force of "Choo... Chum" penetrated, and Chum opened one bleary eye, and then the other, and then there was no stopping him. He lunged at that fox's throat, shredding it virtually in two!

With that, the spell was broken and we girls rose to action, trying our best to quiet Chum before Baba woke up. Poor Naja, having instigated the commotion, now wanted to stop it. She grabbed the fox from Chum and held it high above her head so he couldn't reach it. The fox was raining sawdust all over the kitchen floor, Chum was barking his head off, we girls had become a chorus of "No! Chum! No!" and in the midst of this storm of noise and confusion came Baba's thunderous clap!

"What is this?" Baba gestured. "Is this the time to play when I'm resting?" Baba scolded Naja and we did too! For years afterward, whenever Naja would start some playful mischief, we would remind her of "Choo Chum". Later we tried to sew the stuffed fox back together, but it never looked the same. Somehow even the fox's expression had changed from alert and ready, to bedraggled and limp.

[modifier] Baba's Prasad

In 1935, Baba was staying in the little cabin on the Hill next to The Samadhi. He was in seclusion in that room and on fast. We girls, though, were permitted to see Baba for a few minutes in the evening when we would bring piping hot bhakri (unleavened millet bread) to Him. Baba would feed this bread to Chum, and that reminds me of a very funny incident that happened at the time.

Chum would sit outside on the parapet surrounding the cabin. The day Baba broke His fast, a cow happened to be grazing outside. Baba threw some bread to the cow and when Chum saw this, he could not contain his jealousy! Baba's prasad should be for him, not this cow! It didn't matter to Chum in the least that Baba had given him his share — from Chum's point of view it should all be for him. Chum rushed at the cow and chased it round and round the cabin. The cow didn't want to give up its bread, and Chum didn't want to give up chasing the cow! Faster and faster they ran until dog and cow were a blur of motion. After awhile you couldn't tell who was chasing whom! So you see, Chum's possessive and jealous nature also provided us with some funny moments.

But really I tell you, Chum loved Baba so much and so deeply, he felt it was his sacred duty to protect Baba from everyone. When we left Meherabad to travel with Baba, Chum was kept at Lower Meherabad.

This is the story of Baba's pet dog, Chum. It is also the story of all of Baba's pets. Because Baba emanated love, this real love evoked in each of His pets a deep and unswerving loyalty and devotion to Him. Each pet yearned to be in Baba's proximity, just as we yearned to be with Baba. And just as we longed to give our all, so did each of Baba's pets — especially Chum, that big and valiant dog who loved Baba so much.

[modifier] The White Donkey

While we were staying on the Hill at Upper Meherabad someone gave Baba a beautiful snow-white donkey. She was named Champa and was very tall and stately, giving the impression of a pony rather than an ordinary donkey. Baba loved her very much. He would caress her and feed her with much care. Sometimes when Baba would hug Champa, He would hold her so close that His head would touch hers. In fact, there is a photo of Baba embracing this sweet animal.

In those early years, our life with Baba was very strict. We were not allowed outside rhe compound except when Baba, Himself, would come and take us outside for walks. Champa would be brought with us so that she too could have some exercise. We would lead her along as we walked with Baba over the hills behind the Samadhi.

After two days of going on these walks with Baba, the idea came to me that Champa was fully grown and could easily bear weight. One day as we returned from our walk, I told Baba that this donkey was strong enough to carry the weight of a man. "Baba, men ride these animals. Why don't You ride her? You could easily and it would not hurt her at all!" Baba took a moment to reflect on what I was suggesting and then said, "All right. Tomorrow you saddle her and I'll ride!"

We were so happy all we could think about was how sweet and lovely darling Baba would look riding that pure white donkey. The next morning as we cooked and attended to our other work, our thoughts were on Baba.

And when Baba did ride Champa, it reminded us of Biblical times when Jesus had also ridden a donkey. Now we were seeing our Beloved Baba, Christ come again, astride this same simple animal. What a blessing for dear Champa, and what a beautiful sight for our eyes to behold. After a short ride, Baba got down, and for some days after that, Baba would ride Champa for short distances across the hillsides.

It was on one of these occasions that Mani photographed Baba astride Champa. She had been given a little box camera, and luckily liked to bring it along on our walks.

Irene Billo, a Swiss girl, came to stay with us on the Hill. She loved animals very much and Baba, knowing this, put Champa in her care. Then after some time, Baba decided to travel and He gave Champa to one of His devotees.

Baba's love for these dear animals was always touching to witness for it emanated from the very source of love. We can never understand the ways of the Avatar, for His ways are unfathomable. But what we can understand is that God is love and love must love. All of these animals whose destiny brought them into His contact were immensely fortunate to receive His love.

[modifier] The White Horse

I was educated at the Convent of Jesus and Mary in Poona. One day, when I was about eleven years old, my friend Zeena came up to me at recess and said, "Mehera, let's go to Babajan. She is very great and whatever you ask for she will give you. So, come with me now."

I remember thinking, Babajan's tree is very far from here. I knew she sat under a neem tree on the roadside, and I also knew that it would not be possible for Zeena and me to go there and return before the school bell would ring. I was always very shy, not at all bold, and I told Zeena that we would miss the bell and would not get back in time. Zeena said, "No, Babajan is just close by."

Our school was surrounded by a high wall. I had no idea that Babajan was really sitting just on the other side of the school wall. But Zeena was insistent and again said, "Babajan is just close by." So we held hands and went together.

As we approached Babajan, Zeena said to me, "Think hard what you want to ask for, and you go first!" I said, "No, you go first!" You see, I was not prepared to ask for anything. I was just going along because my friend Zeena wanted me to come with her. You know, so many girls would know what to ask for — to be first in their class, or to have higher education. But I never cared for all that, and anyway it was not in my destiny.

Zeena knelt before Babajan and whispered something which I could not hear. Then it was my turn. I knelt before Babajan and she looked at me almost questioningly. I had nothing in my mind to ask for, so I started to glance around quickly. There was a tonga in the distance and suddenly my attention was drawn to the horse.

I have always loved horses. My father had taught me to ride when I was six years old, but after he died, my mother did not want to keep horses as they require a lot of work. You need to have a groom, proper food, and space to exercise them. Seeing the horse though, I said to Babajan, "I want a horse."

Babajan nodded her head and gazed at me with a very slight smile. How can I describe it? Well, "knowing." Then she looked upward toward the sky and started to speak very softly in Urdu. I could not catch most of what she said as her head was turned to the side away from me. But I did hear her say, "Yes, He will be very beautiful. All the world will love Him." Babajan spoke some more words under her breath, then turned toward me and said, "All right beta (beta means 'my child'), you may go." I got up and Zeena and I caught hands and ran back to school. Once in school, we were so busy that we promptly forgot about our visit to Babajan.

One day after school, I was playing with my cousins at home in the garden. It must have been about three months after my meeting with Babajan. We used to play in the evening together, and that day we were playing a game called gilli-danda. My aunt came up to me and said, "Mehera, your mother has bought you a horse!" I heard her, but did not really take in what she was saying as I was having too much fun playing, and felt sure that my mother would not buy a horse. So I continued our game. But my aunt came closer and said to me, "Go see for yourself. It is true!" Then my cousins and I stopped our game and we ran to the stable behind the house.

I could not believe my eyes! Standing in the stable was the most beautiful horse — all pink and white. It had one blue eye and one black eye, and was very spirited, too! The more spirited a horse, the more I loved it!

My mother had arranged for a groom to take care of the horse. A day or two passed by and then the thought crossed my mind — "Now, I've got a horse, why not go riding?" I did not tell anyone what I was thinking because I was afraid the adults would not let me ride a new horse. I went to the storeroom where my sister's and my saddles were kept. I found mine and ran back to the stable with it, asking the groom to help me saddle the horse. The horse was a bit tall for me so the groom gave me a lift up. I did not want anyone to stop me from riding, so instead of going out the front of the house, I went by the back across the fields. Some elders saw me and called to me to come back, shouting that I might be thrown and fall off. I signed to them that I was safe and kept riding.

I rode toward Bund Garden where I knew there was a lovely bridle path. I used to envy the British women I had seen riding their horses along the broad path and I thought, "I'll ride there too!" I had a nice long ride and came home safely. But after that, I rode only two or three times more.

After my mother found out about Baba, she would go and see Him whenever He was in Poona. Vishnu Master would come to tell my mother, "Baba has come to Poona and you can have His darshan."

Mother would sit by Baba's side or as near to Him as possible, and always would be the last one to leave. One day Baba asked her, "Is there anything you want?" My mother then told Baba that she would love to come and stay with Him and serve Him. Baba told her, "How can you serve Me? I'm not staying in one place. But when I am permanently staying in Meherabad, I'll call you." It happened just as Baba had promised. My mother and I were the first women Baba called to stay with Him at Meherabad.

We were living at No. 9 Todiwalla Road in Poona. My white horse was then about one year old and, during this time, my sister Freni was with us. She had come to stay with my mother and me because she was expecting her first baby. It is our custom that the daughter returns to her mother's place for the first pregnancy. Freni had just given birth to a baby boy when the telegram from Baba arrived telling my mother and me to come to Meherabad as soon as we could, and to bring with us one trunk each, full of clothing to last an entire year, and our bedding. My mother immediately began to make preparations. She started shopping for cotton saris and cloth to make blouses to last a year. Then all these necessary items had to be stitched by the tailor. Finally everything was ready. When my sister's baby was only ten days old, we boarded the train for Ahmednagar. We were all so happy and excited about going to Baba. None of the servants were to know that we were going away for good. I remember my mother put a big padlock on the door of our house and told the servants we were going to another place. The servants were told to feed our horse and pet dog, Peter.

All the valuables and furniture were just left behind. When we arrived at the Ahmednagar train station, Soonamai, who is Goher's aunt, and Sarosh were there to receive us along with Gulmai and Kaikushru who had come to see their grandchild. It was a warm welcome. Soonamai took my sister's baby in her arms and after we all greeted each other, we climbed into a waiting carriage and proceeded to Khushru Quarters. (Khushru Quarters is now known as "Meher Nazar" and is where the Avatar Meher Baba Trust is located.)

Baba had instructed Rustom, Freni's husband, to go to Poona after we had left and put everything in order at the house. Rustom was to sell the furniture, send our piano to Ahmednagar, and sell the horse and carriage.

However, when Rustom told Baba that the white horse was very beautiful, rather than sell him, Baba decided to have Rustom bring the horse to Ahmednagar.

Baba named the horse Sufi and he was the first pet to be brought to Meherabad. Sufi was very spirited and Baba fed him sweets to sweeten him up!

Baba also acquired an all-white bullock and a pure white dog. And typical of Baba's matchless sense of humour, he named the bull Sant (Saint) and the dog Sadhu. They certainly didn't seem to live up to their names as they were full of mischief and unmanageable. These animals kept the mandali's hands full, adding greatly to their already hectic schedules.

When we first came from Poona to join Baba, we stayed in Ahmednagar. We had not as yet come to stay in Meherabad. I heard later that shortly after Sufi's arrival in Meherabad, Baba had him honoured in a special Puja ceremony. Baba, Himself, did not worship the animal, but He did have those present pay homage to the white horse as representing the mount of the Kali Yuga Avatar.

Baba rode Sufi bareback for a minute and because Sufi had such a spirited nature, two members of the mandali had to stand on either side of him and hold his head by the bridle so that Baba could mount him!

Though I never thought about it then, I feel now it was indeed a significant action for Baba to mount the white horse and thus fulfill the prophesies of the ancient Hindu scriptures which depict the Avatar of this Age riding a white horse.

[modifier] Goats

When Baba returned to India after His trip to Canada, He was very ill. The cold climate had affected His health adversely. A goat had been given to Baba and it was suggested that Baba drink goat's milk as it is beneficial for colds and coughs. Goats eat many different herbs and grasses which give their milk healthful qualities.

This goat loved to follow Baba around and play with Him. Baba, in turn, enjoyed feeding the goat tasty pieces of toast and chapaties. Baba would raise His hand up high, out of the goat's reach, and the goat would stand on her hind legs, balancing her front legs on Baba's chest, so she could gobble up these delicious treats.

Have you ever heard of goats in the house? I remember an amusing incident that occurred in August of 1949. This was shortly before Baba announced His plans for the New Life.

Perhaps you have heard of Baba's Great Seclusion of forty days. During this intensive phase of His Universal Work, Baba remained confined in the Blue Bus at Meherazad, and instructed all of His lovers to keep silence. Those forty days of silence gave each of us an inkling of the immense restriction Baba had placed on Himself by not speaking.

A few days after Baba stepped out of His seclusion, He wanted to have a complete change. With one or two of the mandali, He took Mani, Goher, Meheru, and myself to Satara to get away from everything and relax.

Considering the heavy monsoon rains, the weather was beautiful with intervals of bright sunshine pushing away the dark and heavy clouds. We were happy that Baba seemed to be relaxed and was enjoying the change of scenery.

One afternoon, just after His lunch, Baba left the dining room table to go wash His hands. He had hardly stepped out of the room when we heard His imperative clap. Immediately we girls rushed to the adjoining room to see what Baba wanted. And there Baba stood — the Master Showman pointing dramatically at three goats standing on Goher's bed, nodding drowsily. Baba was acting as if He had conjured up those three goats out of a hat — just for our entertainment. It was too funny for words. Baba with a naughty gleam in His beautiful brown eyes, and with the flare of a magician, gestured, "What will Goher have on her bed next!" All of us had a good laugh and shooed the reluctant goats out of the room.

[modifier] Mittu

When Pilamai came to see Baba in Dehra Dun, she brought with her, from Karachi, a lovely pair of parrots. Though the male was the sweeter of the two, the female, Mittu, had the most personality. She never learned to talk, but she made up for it with her pranks.

We would place a vessel on the ground for the birds to bathe in. It was entertaining to watch what they would do as they each behaved so differently. The male would go first. He would hop daintily inside the vessel and wash himself thoroughly. When he was finished, he had a peculiar habit — with his beak rubbing against the ground, he would circle the bowl, walking round and round it several times.

When Mittu's turn came, the entertainment really began. She would watch the male, then strut toward the bath as though she was a regal lady. But, amusingly, Mittu never actually bathed! Once in a great while she would stand in the bowl demurely drinking a little water and then jump out. That was all! She just loved to make a show of everything. That is what I mean by personality.

Unfortunately, the male bird did not live for very long and we felt sad about that. But Mittu remained healthy and became part of our ashram life — even travelling with us.

From Dehra Dun Baba took us to Rishikesh, an area deeply revered by Hindus as a place of pilgrimage.

Baba had arranged for us to stay in a spacious bungalow overlooking the sparkling and swift-flowing waters of the sacred Ganges. Our bungalow was situated at a height, surrounded by forest and mountains. It was very picturesque there and so sweet of Baba to have found us such a beautiful location.

To reach our bungalow we had to cross the Ganges by boat, for in those days the only bridge spanning the river's expanse was the Lakshman Juhla suspension bridge. This bridge was much used by pilgrims beginning their climb into the Himalayas to the holy places of worship nestled in the high peaks.

I remember on one occasion Baba took us for a walk from our bungalow to the bridge. As we stood there with Baba, watching this seemingly endless procession of pilgrims go by, the elderly leaning on staffs, being helped by the young, those unable to walk being carried in make-shift sedan chairs or riding horses, the poor weighed down with huge bundles on their heads, many of us had the same thought: all these people are undertaking such a strenuous journey, little knowing that God is here at the roadside watching them as they begin their ascent.

For us, the best part of the day came when we would walk down to the river and wash our clothes. It was summer-time and very hot and steamy. Washing our clothes was a welcome relief as we would dip our feet in the cool Ganges water and feel nice and refreshed. The Ganges is sacred to Hindus, and everyday as we washed our clothes we would see the many sadhus and pilgrims bathing in the holy waters or standing waist deep absorbed in prayer. But the real reason I am sharing this with you is because it reminds me of one special day in Rishikesh when our Mittu did the pilgrims one better!

We girls were getting everything ready for Baba's bath, and that entailed a lot of work. There were no conveniences like we have today. Baba's water had to be heated on a wood fire and the pails carried to the bathing room. And I'm not talking about one pail of water — Baba wanted four pails of water and the temperature of the water had to be just right — not too hot and not too cold — lukewarm. So you can understand that it took some time to arrange everything perfectly for Baba.

Mittu was with us in the house and she would walk about freely here and there. We knew that Mittu meant mischief — her beak was always busy nibbling at something, but we were preoccupied with our task at hand. No one was thinking of Mittu, our thoughts were on Baba and getting His bath ready.

Baba arrived and went inside the bathing room. He took off His sadra and tossed it on the little table nearby. A few moments later a very strange thing happened. Baba's sadra began to move by itself! None of us had accidently touched it, it just started moving! Really, if we hadn't seen it with our own eyes, we would have thought we were imagining it. The sadra continued to twist and sway until Baba lifted it up. There underneath was Mittu! We had forgotten about Mittu with all our concentration on Baba. No one had even noticed her enter the bathing room, let alone wrap herself in Baba's sadra.

Baba laughed silently, His eyes sparkling and His cheeks turning pink. He was really tickled. "Mittu," Baba gestured, "is very naughty! She is a real mavali!" Mavali means rascal in Gujerati, and Baba certainly was right!

Mittu liked fruit, seeds, and nuts, but she was also fond of rice, dal, and chutney! Mani and I would eat together in our room. Our meals would be sent to us on a small tray. Mittu of course had her own food, but she was more interested in ours! She would waddle over to our tray and impatiently knock on the vessel lids... tap... tap... tap... announcing to us her presence. She wanted to make sure we understood that even if we had no interest in the food, she did!

Mani would then mix together a little rice, dal, and chutney and feed it to her. If Mani was busy with something else, then I would feed her. And sometimes Baba, too, would feed her rice and dal from His own hand.

Life with Mittu was never boring, and sometimes it could be quite exasperating, because you never did know what might happen next!

This brings to my mind an incident that occurred in Mahabaleshwar. Mahabaleshwar is a beautiful hill station a few hours' drive from Poona. There are many paths meandering through the woods and we would often go on long walks with Baba. It was especially wonderful when we would reach a clearing and Baba would stop with us for a few minutes under the shady trees, enjoying the breathtaking beauty of His own creation.

Now, we were getting ready for a walk. I put my jacket on Mani's bed while I attended to some last minute chores. Mittu was sitting quietly on Mani's bed, and I remember thinking to myself, "I'll just be five minutes, then I'll pick up my jacket." But you know how it is when you are getting ready to go out. There is always some distraction — something that diverts your attention. I couldn't have left my jacket on Mani's bed for more than five minutes, but it was more than enough time for Mittu! That naughty parrot had chewed up all the press buttons (snaps) on my jacket! And how do you punish a parrot? I tried to admonish her shaking my finger and telling her how naughty she was to spoil my jacket, but Mittu boldly returned my scolding with a loud squawk! And that squawk became louder and more indignant! It was clear that Mittu thought, "Why should you scold me? I was just enjoying myself!" In the end, I wondered who was scolding whom!

When we stayed on the Hill at Meherabad, our room was what is known today as the East Room. Mani and I shared this room and when I look back on those days, I think it was good that we were so young and eager to serve Baba.

That room had originally been a water storage tank in the time of the British. It has no windows and only small ventilators up at the top. We had no furniture other than our beds and a small stool. We lived out of our trunks with no cupboards in which to store our clothes. In fact, we hung our clothes across a string. Having no tables, we used our beds for everything — sewing, writing — they were our all-purpose furniture.

Now what happened was this. Mani was standing in front of her bed measuring some cloth she wanted to make into a blouse. Lying on her bed were many pins with brightly coloured glass heads. Mittu was perched on top of Mani's bedpost watching her as she measured and cut the cloth. Someone called Mani and she left the room for a few minutes. I was preoccupied with my own work. Then a funny sound caught my ear — a cracking sound as though someone nearby was cracking nuts. Once, twice, three times I heard the sound. I couldn't figure it out. I looked up from my work wondering where that noise could be coming from. Should I give you a guess? Mittu had climbed down from the bedpost and was sitting on Mani's bed, intently cracking the glass bead on the head of each pin! That mischievous bird had been waiting for her chance and when Mani left the room, she got it!

Parrots love to crack seeds, especially chilis, and those bright red and green beads must have attracted Mittu's attention and curiosity. She couldn't resist finding out if they were edible.

Quickly I admonished Mittu and just as quickly she ran up the bedpost, perching at the top with the most innocent expression on her face. But as soon as I turned my back, there was that cracking noise again. Mittu had climbed down again to get at the pins!

Mani returned and I told her what had happened. "Mani," I said, "you better hurry up and finish your blouse or you won't have any pins left!"

Mittu was also with us in Lahore. It was in Lahore that Baba separated the women into two groups. Mani, Meheru, Valu, Rano, Margaret, and Kitty were with me in one bungalow and, a short distance away, there was another bungalow which housed the rest of the women. The second group came to our bungalow once a week when Baba would call them for a visit. They would cook rice and dal and chutney and bring it with them. We would eat together on the porch of our house.

Lahore was a beautiful well-planned city, and where we stayed on its outskirts it was called Garden Town. Though there was very little rainfall, the water supply was amply provided by an extensive canal system which also irrigated the gardens in different areas of the city.

One day Margaret asked Mani if she could take Mittu for a walk in the garden. Mittu was friendly with everyone, so Mani agreed. Mani perched Mittu on Margaret's shoulder and the happy pair strolled through the compound garden.

A short while later, Margaret returned and remarked to Mani that Mittu had been no trouble at all. Mani removed Mittu from Margaret's shoulder and found out exactly why Mittu had been so quiet. All this time Mittu had been chewing on Margaret's blouse, nicely making a huge hole in the shoulder. Margaret didn't praise Mittu now. Instead she told us, "That Mittu, she ruined my very best and favourite blouse!" Margaret never dared to take Mittu on her shoulder again.

Lahore could be very hot, but it was pleasant to sit on the porch overlooking the garden which even had a fountain in it. It was toward the end of our stay in Lahore that Mittu almost lost her life. We were busy packing up our belongings and had left Mittu outside in her cage on the porch. We knew she would be safe there, so we didn't bother about her and continued our packing.

Suddenly we heard a loud cry for help from Mittu. We knew from the sound of her call that she was in danger. We ran out of the house to see what had happened and, horrified, we found Mittu's cage empty. It had all happened very fast. One minute Mittu had been in her cage and the next she had disappeared! Our eyes scanned the porch and garden and then we saw her. Mittu was being dragged away by a mongoose!

We all started shouting at once, trying to scare the mongoose. Our porch had a wall and steps into the garden and Meheru, quick-thinking, jumped over the wall to try to catch the mongoose. We kept shouting as this was our only weapon to scare the mongoose. In his fright, he finally dropped Mittu and scurried away under the thick hedge.

We picked Mittu up and carried her into the house. She was in shock. Really, I tell you, Mittu was a brave parrot. Any other bird would most certainly have died from the shock.

We wrapped her in warm cloths and tried to soothe her as best we could. But you could see how absolutely terrified she was. Her eyes were huge and the pupils were dilated.

In a few days, Mittu was fine. You must be wondering how the mongoose got hold of Mittu. Well, ironically, it was Mittu's own mischief that caused her close call with death. You see, her cage had fine brass wire. Mittu had pressed the wires out and wriggled herself free. Then, feeling grand, she boldly perched on the top of her cage, surveyed the porch and garden, and flew down. Little did she know that the mongoose had cleverly hidden himself behind the hedge and was watching her every movement. That moment of freedom had almost cost Mittu her life! It was only Baba's Grace that saved her.

Baba really was fond of Mittu. He would often feed her and gesture to us, "I like her very much." And we could understand why. Mittu's daring personality contributed to many amusing moments. Truly, you never knew what she might do next!

by Mehera J. Irani. Published by Sheriar Press. © 1989 AMBPPCT