Meher Baba's Love

De Simple Silence.

MEHER BABA’S LOVE — My Story

[modifier] The East-West Gathering

The American, English, European and Australian lovers were accommodated in several hotels in Poona, all some distance apart. Each day of the Sahavas, buses would call at the hotels soon after 8 AM to take all to Guruprasad, bring them back for lunch, collect them again for the afternoon session, and return them at the end of the day.

The bus carrying us from the Wellesley Hotel also used to call at a residential club occupied by some of the Americans. We were outnumbered by our co-passengers, and during the excitement of the first day or so, the short journey to Guruprasad seemed to be filled with American greetings and repartee, and their characteristic energy was somewhat overwhelming for us more reserved southerners from ‘down under’.

The first Sahavas morning, Thursday 1^st November, was already warm when about 8.30 the bus-loads of Westerners arrived at Guruprasad, hurried across the road and into the broad driveway. Each one was wearing the special East-West Gathering Baba Medallion which was the ‘pass’ to go through the gates, and began walking towards the big grey building with Baba’s flag fluttering on the flagpole in the light breeze.

Intent on reaching the house, most paid only cursory attention to the large awning on the left sheltering the Baba Stall displaying photographs, books and other material ; the first-aid tent on the right ; and the gardens filled with bright flowers along the drive and in front of the wide portico.

Excitement increased and footsteps quickened as the groups of Westerners neared the house. Everyone hurried up the steps, crossed the verandah, slipped off shoes, stepped through the wide-open glass doors and moved across the big main room straight towards Baba.

Quickly selecting a spot as close as possible to Him, all sat on the floor or on chairs near the wall or to the back — it did not matter where, as long as one could see Him clearly. I remember Bill [Le Page] telling me earlier not to hang back, but to move in quickly to make sure of getting near Baba.

‘The mornings were for Westerners alone’ on Baba’s instructions. It was a little before 9 AM and Baba was seated, with several cushions around Him, on the big couch where we had met Him the previous evening. While all were arriving Baba would often lift a hand and smile to one or another well-known figure.

He gestured for the children to come to the front, and for a passage to be kept so that certain ones could come through as He called them for His embrace, or to sit nearer to Him, or for some other particular purpose.

Eruch was ever-ready and watchful just in front of Baba and a little to our right. I don’t recall others of the mandali, but doubtless they were all close by.

I was sitting on a chair to the right of the room facing Baba. There were some in front of me, but I could see Him quite well, and could also turn to look at the various ones He spoke to.

The morning began with each one in turn going to Baba for His embrace, greeting Him in his or her own way : some leaned towards Him from a standing position ; some knelt before Him ; some, glancing up first for His approval, prostrated at His feet.

And to each one Baba gave and gave of His love. I still remember how much I wanted to kneel before Him, yet whether through self-consciousness, uncertainty, or the remains of a rather ‘stiff-necked’ upbringing, I did not manage to carry out this wish.

How often since then have I regretted losing such an opportunity! How often have I told myself, ‘Next time He comes there will be no holding back, I’ll come running to Him!’

Baba did not give particular discourses or talks that morning, but speaking to one, and then another, He asked about and commented on different aspects of their lives and work. These were just informal chats, as it were, of help to those primarily concerned, and of general interest to others.

Sometimes Baba would speak quickly and directly to a man or a woman, enquiring if they had slept well, asking about their health, or their families at home. He told one young American woman not to worry about her baby — ‘Give all your worries to Me,’ Baba said. ‘If you keep on doing the worrying I can’t take over the burden. Give everything to Me, and I look after everything.’

Sometimes He joked with someone ; sometimes with just a smile He seemed to convey a loving, deeply personal message to another.

I remember that while Baba was speaking to different ones, I could not help wishing that He would ask me something, or take notice of me in some way. But He did not do this.

Much later I realised that Baba often ignores such wishes, and then, when least expected, He does notice one. (This happened for me, and in its relevant sequence I have described the occasion at Guruprasad when our small Australian group was called to sing to Him several days later.)

Some of the Americans and English had produced and printed a new booklet called Sparks from Meher Baba. They presented a copy to Baba who touched it and gave it back. To the Australians Baba then entrusted the job of publishing and world-wide distribution of a new set of His discourses titled The Everything and The Nothing, a sizeable undertaking for the comparatively small group in Australia.

Dr Denis O’Brien from Melbourne was to give initial financial assistance to the project, and Bill Le Page’s responsibility was all the detailed work of carrying out the printing and distribution of the book. Baba called both men to come forward and handed the typescript to them with instructions for it to be published as soon as possible.

Somewhere about 11 :30 the morning session ended. Throughout these few hours Baba just radiated love to His lovers. As on all the other mornings, the big room seemed absolutely filled with the warmth and light of His love ; and the gathered love of all seated before Him seemed to well up and flow to Him — His love, first-given, being offered again in love to Him.

It was a deeply moving experience : entirely, indescribably, beautiful[... ] I have never known anything like it before or since, and even now, 37 years later, the memory of the power of that all-pervading love is still so fresh, so strong, so overwhelming for me that tears flow involuntarily whenever I think of it, or try to speak about it.

After lunch the truly East-West gathering began. The Easterners were already assembled in the huge pandal at the rear of Guruprasad when the Westerners arrived to take their seats in front of the wide platform with its small dais and deep armchair ready for Baba in the centre.

Baba Himself had said that because the Westerners had come such immense distances to be with Him they were to sit in the front rows to be close to Him. Several microphones were installed near the edge of the platform, and these were used frequently by Eruch and other mandali when messages and instructions from Baba were read out, always in English and also in translations, to the six and a half thousand lovers gathered there.

As is customary in such gatherings in India, the women sat on one side and the men on the other. Folding chairs arranged in wide rows were set up throughout the huge pandal, with an aisle on each outer side and in the middle. The floor was of packed earth and gravel.

Except for wide entrances on both sides near the platform, the cotton ‘walls’ of the pandal came low down. It was like an enormous tent. The top covering was of striped cotton material, thin enough to let plenty of light through, but the sides were of heavier fabric.

The whole was stretched over a huge framework of poles, the long colorful strips of the cotton awning material being lashed together with twine. The ceiling over the platform was solid to afford effective protection for Baba, and set into this were four fluorescent lights forming a square over His head.

All the poles on the platform and throughout the pandal were brightly decorated, and the general effect of light and colour was greatly enriched by the vivid shades of the women’s saris and dresses.

Baba came out onto the platform through the wide curtained doorway which led directly from the house, and steadied by the mandali, walked slowly forward to the front of the dais, stood for a moment while the joyous cries of ‘Avatar Meher Baba ki Jai!’ welled up from the crowd, then was helped gently into the big chair. Cushions were settled under His elbows and feet, and the afternoon began.

Baba’s message ‘MY DEAR CHILDREN’ was read over the microphone :

« Your coming to me from different places and from across oceans has pleased me. And although no sacrifice to be near me is too great I am touched by the sacrifice that some of you have made to come here.

« Those who have not been able to come to me should not feel disheartened, for my love is with them as always and specially so at this time. I know how they are longing to be near me even for an hour, and how helpless they are in their circumstances.

« You have come from great distances not for some convention or conference but to enjoy my company and feel afresh my love in your hearts. It is a coming together of children of East and West in the house of their Father.

« All religions of the world proclaim that there is but one God, the Father of all in creation. I am that Father.

« I have come to remind all people that they should live on earth as the children of the one Father until my Grace awakens them to the realisation that they are all one without a second, and that all divisions and conflict and hatred are but a shadow-play of their own ignorance.

« Although all are my children they ignore the simplicity and beauty of this Truth by indulging in hatreds, conflicts and wars that divide them in enmity, instead living as one family in their Father’s house. Even amongst you who love and accept me for what I am there is sometimes lack of understanding of one another’s hearts.

« Patiently I have suffered these things in silence for all my children. It is time that they become aware of the presence of their Father in their midst and of their responsibility towards Him and themselves. I shall break my Silence, and, with my Word of words, arouse my children to realise in their lives the indivisible Existence which is GOD.

« Throughout the years I have been giving many messages and discourses. Today I simply want to tell you who are gathered here in my love to shut the ears of your minds and open the ears of your hearts to hear my Word when I utter It.

« Do not seek my Blessing which is always with you, but long for the day when my Grace will descend on all who love me. Most blessed are they who do not even long for my Grace, but simply seek to do my Will. »

Arti was performed on the platform in front of Baba by several Eastern and Western women whose graceful movements were a lovely and moving sight as the platters of tiny lights were waved in devotion to Him.

The programme for the afternoon was very full. Baba seemed very happy listening to the qawwalis (songs of devotion to the Beloved), and He gave explanations of the meaning after each song.

The three well-known Andhra Players gave their unique performance of a story of Baba’s life in song and prose.

Throughout the afternoon, at intervals between the singing Baba gave His embrace to the Easterners. The mandali, long accustomed to organising large numbers of people, had earlier given instructions for the lovers to form lines on both sides, and the separate groups of men and women by turns moved up the steps and across the platform to Baba for His embrace, then walked on round the back of His chair and down again to return to their seats.

The mandali and helpers stationed themselves at various spots to guide the lovers, and sometimes those near Baba had to give a gentle push to one or another to remind them they could not prolong their darshan but were to keep moving, otherwise there might not be time for others to come to Baba.

Many were those who brought a garland for Him, or an offering of fruit. Sometimes Baba allowed a garland to be put round His neck, and often He would touch gifts brought to Him and indicate He was returning them as prasad, or they would be placed in baskets to be distributed later.

When several garlands were round Baba’s neck, Eruch would lift them off carefully and place them in the basket behind Baba’s chair. Frequently, with most loving and gentle movements, Eruch would wipe the perspiration from Baba’s brow and face, for the afternoon was very warm and Baba was continually exerting Himself in embracing one after another in rhythmic succession.

Sometimes the flowing movement would be halted momentarily by Baba Himself when a well-known figure reached Him : Baba would smile lovingly, sometimes broadly, ask a question and embrace this one, then the line would move on again.

At other times a child would receive an extra embrace, and occasionally Baba would turn one around, the Westerners catching a glimpse of a bright little face or glowing large dark eyes. Often women with tiny babies in their arms received His embrace, then stooping swiftly would rest the infant’s head on Baba’s feet.

The very young, the very old, some very poor, some infirm, some large, some thin — men and women, boys and girls, all were there to enjoy the company of God, to receive His love and to give Him love.

It was the Easterners’ turn to come to Baba in the afternoons, but the Westerners, sitting watching Baba and the bright throngs filing past Him, were also sharing every moment.

Somewhere about 4 o’clock a most unexpected diversion occurred. It rained — very suddenly and very heavily. The thin cotton pandal was no protection and everyone was soon drenched.

The packed earth floor became a series of puddles and the bright decorations hung limp and bedraggled. Baba stopped proceedings for a while and there seemed to be some concern that the Westerners, being so wet, might catch colds.

Almost before they knew what was happening, the women were being beckoned up the steps to the platform and taken through the curtained doorway behind Baba’s chair to the women mandali’s quarters where many were given dresses, saris and other clothes to change into.

It was a happy occasion, for Mehera and the others had not expected to see anything of their Western sisters after the very brief meeting Baba had allowed them on the day of their arrival.

There was much talking and laughing together, the mandali kindness itself in making sure the visitors were well looked after, and handing out everything they had.

I still felt so shy and overwhelmed by meeting Baba and with all that was going on that although I too was wet, I didn’t feel it was bad enough to ask for anything but kept rather in the background watching it all.

Even so, it was a heart-warming experience to be there in the intimate ‘behind-the-curtain’ atmosphere of the women’s rooms. (I don’t know what happened with the Western men during this time — perhaps they just dried out gradually, for the afternoon was still warm.)

Before long all were called back to the platform, and Baba said He would embrace the Westerners as well as more of the Easterners. In India rain is thought of as a blessing, and so indeed it proved to be on this afternoon for the Westerners, as they had an extra embrace from their Beloved and enjoyed extra time in His presence.

It must have been nearly 6 o’clock when Baba signalled the close of the day. Arti was sung to Him, and the thousands dispersed.

Early that evening when some of us were sitting with Francis in his room at the Wellesley Hotel after dinner, Dr Donkin arrived bringing aspirin tablets with Baba’s instruction that all were to take one so as to ward off any possible ill-effects of the afternoon’s deluge. And each of the Westerners, wherever they were staying in Poona that night, were also sent this token of Baba’s loving care.

About 9 PM Francis and two or three of us walked to the railway station with Bill to see him onto the train for Bombay. Always with Baba it seems that an almost incredible number of things keep happening in all directions, and that invariably some people are involved much more than others.

This time of the East-West Gathering was no exception. An example of this was the trip back to Bombay for Bill — Baba had sent him to meet the rest of the party on the ship, help them to get quickly through Customs and formalities, and then bring them immediately to Poona by the 8 AM train so that they would arrive in time for the Friday afternoon session of the Gathering. (Bill gives a delightful description of this in his book The Turning of the Key, p.161.)

Friday 2^nd November found those of us who were already in Poona, once again walking happily up the wide marble steps to go inside for the morning session.

Guruprasad had for me such a gracious air. It was not a very big building, but was pleasing in design — the spacious verandah running the full width of the house and turning along each side with marble balustrades at the edges ; the beautiful pink marble columns rising to the lofty ceiling ; the black and white tiled floor ; the delicate engravings on the wide glass entrance doors, and the tall white statues on either side — all these gave the feeling that the house itself welcomed us with open arms as it were, extending an invitation, fresh and cool, to come in from the heat and noise of the busy highways of the outside world to spend a few precious hours in the company of the Host of Hosts who was waiting to give each one His overwhelming love.

This second morning had a different pattern from the previous one. First, of course, Baba greeted everyone and asked this one and that one had they eaten well, or slept well, were they in good health.

He also made humorous comments to Harry Kenmore who was taping on the small recorder which he called ‘my baby’, and to Ben Hayman, ‘Are you awake, Ben?’ Both these men were seated to Baba’s left near the mandali.

Then Baba told all present that He wanted each one, on returning home, to write one letter only to Him, but not to write after that.

Then Baba gave a quite detailed explanation of the Four Journeys of the soul, and to illustrate it there was a big chart on a stand, specially prepared for the purpose. Eruch read Baba’s gestures, and as the explanation progressed, Francis would point to the corresponding sections on the chart with a long stick.

The beautiful clarity of Eruch’s voice, the warmth and love in his eyes, added a further quality to the whole wonderful experience of having Baba Himself explain the journeys of the soul. This discourse and the chart were included in the manuscript of The Everything and The Nothing which had been given to Bill the day before to publish.

Another most moving experience for me during this Friday morning was the reading by Francis of an Ode of Hafiz, translated by Baba and versified by Francis :

Although you have not received love’s guerdon, One day this desert will become a garden — so be not grieved. Do not turn your heart away, nor expostulate Against the Beloved, but bear your present state — and be not grieved. Let this disgusted mind and troubled heart be stilled One day desire for union will be fulfilled — so be not grieved. Behind the curtain a secret game is being played That you know not, so don’t give up nor be dismayed — or grieved. Once you have set out for the Beloved’s abode Do not let mere stones and thorns turn you from the road — or be much grieved. Maya will do her best to thwart you from your labour, But when you have a captain like Noah you will reach safe harbour — so be not grieved. When this Friend is the same as God don’t plague him with petitions, But suffer gladly love’s rules, trials and conditions — and be not grieved.

May God not give to my enemies the hardship this friendship (with the Friend) has given me!

This Ode was for me like a personal message of love and understanding from Baba. As mentioned earlier, I did not weep at the moment of meeting Him that first afternoon, but the floodgates had opened during the Thursday night.

I could not sleep, thinking about Him, and wept because I felt I did not know how to love Him. As I listened to the Ode and its constant encouraging refrain ‘be not grieved’, I felt that Baba knew what I was feeling, and was telling me not to be concerned or unhappy.

Immediately the sun shone again for me, and I enjoyed being there with Him.

Baba closed the session around 11 AM, and on the way back to the hotel Francis took me to a teashop for a cup of tea and a chat. Little happenings such as this one, and being included in the small family get-togethers in the evenings at the hotel, all helped me to relax and absorb something of the wealth of love that Baba was giving out to all in every moment of those wonderful days of the East-West Gathering.

During this Friday morning the rest of the Australians who had had to stay on the ship were travelling from Bombay to Poona, escorted by Bill. Their train had arrived late, and we were already sitting under the pandal for the afternoon session when the tired little group appeared.

Baba immediately called them up to the platform, and it was a most moving sight to see each one come to Him for His most loving embrace, His interest in how they were feeling, his enquiries as to whether they had had lunch.

He seemed to give them extra and very special attention to make up for their missing His company for a day and a half, and kept them sitting on the floor near Him during the programme.

The Four journeys chart which had been placed to the rear of the stage on the right hand side, seemed to form a kind of backdrop to the little group. This whole touching episode is captured on one of the films.

Baba’s second message ‘MY DEAR WORKERS’ was read over the microphone :

« In spite of telling you very often that I will not give you any more messages or discourses, I find myself doing just this thing which is what I do not want to do. This is because most of you do things which I do not like you doing.

« I had to give you a message yesterday because you expected one ; and the theme of the message was on your being my children, because despite much talk about a Baba-Family there is more a semblance than a reality of kinship among you who are the children of One Father.

« True children of One Father do not greet one another with smiles and embraces and at the same time harbour grudges and ill-feeling, but they have an active concern in their hearts for the well-being of one another and make sacrifices for that well-being.

« If you make me your real Father, all differences and contentions between you, and all personal problems in connection with your lives, will become dissolved in the Ocean of my Love.

« You are all keen on spreading my message of Love and Truth and many of you in the East and West have laboured hard in this work : publishing magazines and other literature, organising meetings, sacrificing your vacations in travelling, building halls and having statues made of me. But I wonder how much of my love and truth has been in your work of spreading my Message of Love and Truth!

« Unless there is a brotherly feeling in your hearts, all the words that you speak or print in my name are hollow ; all the miles that you travel in my cause are zero ; all organisations for my work are but an appearance of activity ; all buildings to contain me are empty places and all statues that you make to embody me are of someone else.

« I have been patient and indulgent over the way you have been doing these things, because you have been very young children in my love, and children must have some sort of games to play. But now you are older and are beginning to realise that there is a greater work ahead of you than what you have been doing. And you have been searching your minds and hearts as to what this work might be.

« It is not a different work to what you have been already doing — it is the same work done in a different way. And that way is the way of effacement, which means the more you work for me the less important you feel in yourself.

« You must always remember that I alone do my work. Although only the one who has become One with God can serve and work for all, I allow you to work for me so that you are benefiting others, for by being instrumental in bringing others to me you are benefiting yourself.

« My work is your opportunity. But when you allow yourself to intervene between you and my work you are allowing the work to take you away from me. When you put my work before yourself the work will go right, although not necessarily smoothly. And when the work does not go right it means you have put yourself between it and its accomplishment.

« The Way of My Work is the way of effacement, which is the way of strength, not of weakness ; and through it you become mature in my love. At this stage you cannot know what real love is, but through working for me as you should work for me, you will arrive at that ripeness where, in a moment, I can give you That for which you have been millions of years seeking. »

The programme throughout the afternoon was similar to the previous one — groups singing bhajans and qawwalis, Baba listening intently, sometimes swaying or moving His fingers to keep time, sometimes explaining the words. Periodically He would stop the singing and call for the lines of lovers to come for His embrace.

At the end of the afternoon, as happened each day, Baba told all : ‘When you go from here, take Me with you.’

I still recall the impact these words had for me, and doubtless for all there.

Saturday 3^rd November began for us when we all arrived at about 8 :45 AM and came up the steps at Guruprasad to find that Baba was already seated there on the verandah, giving darshan to a small group of Indian lovers from a far-off village.

On the earlier days they had not been sitting near enough to be called into the lines coming to Baba, and as they had to return home early Saturday, they had sadly gone to the bus station without His embrace.

But Baba heard of this and had them called back to Him. Now on the verandah it was most moving for us to see and feel their love for their Beloved as they quickly but happily filed by for His embrace. Some carried framed photographs for Baba to touch, but it was His touching each of them that sent them home fulfilled.

The original conditions for those coming to the Gathering stipulated that no-one was to ask for personal interviews with Baba, nor expect any. But on Saturday morning Baba called the Western lovers, in the area-groups they belonged to, for brief interviews with Him.

I’m not sure how many American and European groups there were, but of course only one from Australia. In a small room leading off the front verandah Baba was seated in a big armchair, and we sat in two or three rows on the floor facing Him. Francis was on Baba’s right facing us, Bill sat with his family in the front row and I was just behind them.

Most of the group had already met Baba in Australia, but those of us who were ‘new ones’ were again introduced by Francis. I still remember how surprised I was to hear Francis saying : ‘And this is Judith, a new one. She is a first-class secretary who has been helping with the Baba work,’ and Baba said He was pleased I was helping Bill.

He spoke to the Le Page children, then to Joan, asking her was she happy. After a moment or two she broke into tears and Baba gestured a question, then called her to Him and said ‘She loves Me very much,’ and comforted her.

Baba also spoke with Hazel and Norman Shipway whose young daughter Julie had died not long before they came to India, and told them not to worry. There must have been some exchanges with others there too, but I was so bemused with all the momentous happenings since my arrival in Poona that nothing more of the interview remains in my memory, except that towards the end I seemed to feel I was almost the only one there, sitting at His feet.

But perhaps the same thing happens to each one in His presence. And this of course was the only personal interview, as it were, that I ever had with Baba, so it stays with me as a special time within the whole very special time of those four and a half days at the East-West Gathering.

Then we all had to go in the bus to the bank to change money — a most tedious business taking nearly two hours! After a hasty lunch we returned to Guruprasad. I was not at all well that day and was told to see the Indian lady doctor on duty there (not Dr Goher), after which Mani came and told me to lie down for a while in the main room — everyone else of course was out under the pandal for the afternoon programme.

I don’t know how Mani had heard I was sick, but after a few minutes she brought a large chiffon scarf and with such a loving gesture spread it over me. When she came back a little later I was feeling better and said I would like to go and join the others.

While she led me through their rooms, that being the quickest way, she told me that I loved Baba, that she knew this from the photograph which Bill had sent over earlier. She said, ‘It is easy to love Baba when you meet Him, but you loved Him before you met Him, and that is why Mehera took your picture and kept it.’

I remember standing there with her, just shaking my head, unable to speak for the tears in my throat. She put her arms round me, and a few minutes later took me out to the pandal.

I became aware that Harry Kenmore was on the platform, reciting The Master’s Prayer in his booming voice. Then someone must have shown me where the Australian women were sitting and I went across to them.

It was on this afternoon, because it was so hot, all women present had been told to sit on the opposite side of the pandal from the first two afternoons ; the men changed over with us. It happened that I was now sitting on the aisle and could see straight up to Baba on the dais, a much better view than I had previously.

Some of the helpers came along the aisles with Baba’s prasad — the huge baskets of wrapped sweets had first been taken to Him, He touched them, and then they were carried round and given to everyone. I still have the wrappers from mine.

A little later a message was brought to some Americans sitting next to us to go and see Mehera and the women mandali, and although we were not entirely sure, it seemed as though we were included, so after a whispered consultation, Lorna Rouse, Joan Le Page and I quietly walked to the front.

But Baba saw us, and immediately looked at us in a questioning way as though asking where we were going. It transpired from helpers near the door that it wasn’t the time for us to see Mehera and so a little sheepishly we went back to our seats. Obviously, Baba knew!

Sunday was the Public Day. I heard years later that Baba began giving darshan at 6 AM to the Eastern lovers who had not yet had His embrace.

Before 9 AM, the Westerners happily gathered in the main room with Baba as usual, and to begin with there were various exchanges between Him and different ones. Then Baba gave us an explanation about God, using coloured metal drinking glasses which fitted into one another, the largest one with the word GOD printed on it in big letters. (They are now kept in the Blue Bus at Meherazad.)

Unfortunately I cannot remember the discourse, but just remember Baba seated there on the big couch, moving the glasses rhythmically with His beautiful hands, and looking round at us all, smiling.

Meanwhile, the great singer Patwardhan and the group of Indian musicians were ‘warming up’ in another room before their wonderful performance for Baba. There is a brief glimpse of this in one of the movies taken at the time, but not very much of the remarkable quality and personality of the singer and Baba’s enjoyment of it can be conveyed on film.

Because of the time factor, the performance was relatively short, perhaps an hour, and after that we all went outside into the grounds where group photographs were taken with Baba seated in a chair and someone holding an umbrella over Him. This is also shown in the movie, and it particularly focussed on Baba being helped to walk slowly out there.

Inside the main room, Baba had walked past me ; outside I was lucky to be among those fairly close to Him. (Some years ago at Meherabad an American pilgrim, Walter Overcarsh, one day produced a photograph of this same group round Baba. I told him about the occasion, pointing out different ones in the picture as well as myself. He offered to get a copy for me, but later most generously sent me the original print a special treasure. It is reproduced inside the front cover.)

In the afternoon the Westerners joined the Easterners under the pandal. As it was the Public Day thousands had already been standing for hours outside the gates of Guruprasad, in a long, long line stretching far down the road.

Baba was now seated in a big chair right at the front of the platform, so that the people could file by Him on the ground level immediately below Him.

But before they came in, Baba allowed His men mandali to file by Him there and bow down to Him. It was the first time in many, many years He had allowed this, and it was an extremely moving scene to witness.

The love and reverence each one had for Baba was paramount in every line of their bodies as they approached Him, bowed down at His feet, and moved on. It seemed to me as I watched that such a moment was His gift to each of them to give again to Him their all.

Then the Public Day darshan began in earnest, and hour after hour until evening the lines of men and women were called alternately to file by Baba ; hour after hour they offered their love and respect and He responded, continuously lifting His hands to His heart.

There are many sequences of this in the movies which recorded the crowds of people, including an entire village of gypsies, magnificent in the vivid colours of their dress and ornaments.

During the afternoon the Australian women and girls were called to see Mehera and the women mandali for a short time to say goodbye, and it was a happy time for us all with them in their rooms.

Mehera gave each a little gift, a small photo or a Baba button or some other keepsake. Mine is a tiny picture in late 1950 of Baba sitting on a couch at Mahabaleshwar smiling broadly and feeding the pony Begum with carrots.

And now the East-West Gathering was over for the Easterners, and almost so for the Westerners. On Monday morning, 5^th November, we all had to say goodbye to Beloved Baba in the big room there at Guruprasad, the room which had seen so many lovers gathered in the presence of Love.

To say goodbye, each one was to go to Baba for His embrace and then leave the room. I was sitting about half-way back, so could watch others go to Him for a while.

One I specially remember was Ruth White who was then over 90. She was usually carried in a special chair, but to say goodbye she managed slowly though stiffly to walk to Him — ‘Baba’s soldier’ : it was a wonderful sight.

Baba seemed to have a few words for different ones, and to May Lundquist who was near me He said ‘This is the last time you will see Me.’

May thought it must mean that she was going to die soon, but Baba of course knew otherwise, and that very, very few of the Westerners would see Him again.

Soon my turn came, and I stood there hesitating but Baba beckoned to me ‘Don’t hold back,’ and so I went to Him[... ] .

I thought I would not see Him again, but was to do so twice more. The following Wednesday afternoon some of the Australian group at the Wellesley Hotel who had been practising singing together in Sydney and on the ship coming over, were very quietly called again to Guruprasad at 3 PM.

By this time nearly everyone was sick in one way or another and Dr Donkin had been attending various ones. On this day Michael Le Page had a fever and Joan had stayed with him at the hotel.

Most of us had colds and coughs. So our singing to Baba in the small side room at Guruprasad was really not the best. Rather nervously we sang a group song because we had often hoped there would be an opportunity to sing together to Baba from Francis Brabazon’s newly-published Let Us The People Sing.

Then Robert and Lorna Rouse sang ‘Cradle Song for God’ which in that intimate setting had a special quality. We were told later that the women mandali were listening to us from behind the curtains over the doorway, and that they had wept at the beauty of this song.

Baba asked were Joan was, and hearing she had stayed with Michael, He then sent Bill back so that Joan could come for the rest of the time.

Baba had a word for this one and that one, and, to my surprise, even for me. I was sitting right at the back of the small room, and suddenly Baba gestured, ‘Are you happy?’

I immediately knew He was talking to me, and answered ‘Yes, Baba, very happy!’ It was a very sweet moment, entirely natural.

When we were to leave, Baba indicated that each was to come to Him for an embrace, but that we were to cover our noses with handkerchiefs so that He would not catch a cold from us.

Baba’s health at that time was far from good. Even so, throughout the Gathering to all outward appearances He had looked happy and bright : only at rare moments did His suffering show through, only occasionally did he seem withdrawn ; and only when the mandali were carefully helping Him to or from His chair was it apparent to all present how slowly He was still compelled to move although it was six years since the car accident at Satara.

It seems incredible to me, looking back, that the East-West Gathering took place in just four and a half days. It certainly felt much, much longer than that.

There was something going on all the time, yet one could sit there either in the intimate morning gatherings inside, or among the thousands under the huge pandal in the afternoons, just looking at Baba. One didn’t have to do anything — just be there with Him, be in His presence.

I should say that often I wished He would look at me, give me some sign, but of course this did not happen. Yet I felt He did know when I thought a lot about Him, as on the afternoon of the 31^st while waiting and longing to meet Him, and also on the morning when the Hafiz Ode was read, appeasing my desolation.

And quite simply, I knew I was His. There was no need to ponder over it or question it. It was so. And it matched up with the unusual and quite strong feeling of inevitability about going to India which had often come into my mind during the days on the ship.

The Gathering itself was now ended, but arrangements had previously been made for the Westerners to take two full-day trips, the first to Meherabad and Meherazad on Tuesday 6^th November, and to Panchgani and Mahabaleshwar on Thursday the 8^th.

Both these days were Baba-filled occasions for me, and ones which I will always remember vividly. I immediately loved all these places, and felt a connection with them which has broadened and deepened with the passage of years. On every one of my many visits to Meherabad and Meherazad since then, I always arrived feeling so strongly that I had come Home, and indeed that I had never really been away.

It must have been on Wednesday morning the 7^th, that Francis, having been to Guruprasad, brought back a parcel of gifts from Mehera for the Australian women. I do not now remember what each one received but there was quite a variety of items, and being sent specially and with such thought for us, we found this very touching and heart-warming. A silk scarf, a crocheted cloth and a handkerchief were my share, and I still have them.

But even more precious were two quite large garlands made from fresh flowers and leaves which Baba had worn or touched on one of the Gathering days, sent specially to be shared among all of us at the Wellesley Hotel. Francis asked me to cut them into small sections and give everyone a piece of each garland.

I remember sitting there with them in front of me, the scissors in my hand, hesitating at first to cut the string and touch the flowers which had perhaps been round Baba’s neck but eventually did so. The pieces which became mine are among my special Baba treasures, and the flowers though long-since faded or brown still retain their shape, two having a faint pink tinge.

There was another pleasant occasion in Poona that week — the whole large Dadachanji family had rented the Mobo Hotel near Guruprasad for their accommodation over the Gathering period, and they invited the Westerners to afternoon tea with them on Friday the 9^th.

It was quite a sumptuous affair and they all, from the very oldest to the youngest members of this great family, made us so welcome. Indian hospitality is indeed heart-warming.

Then finally Saturday morning 10^th November arrived. Baba and all the mandali were to leave Poona by car around 8 AM for Meherazad. But Beloved Baba gave us one more chance to see Him and say goodbye.

By 7 :30 all were assembled at the big neem tree at Bund Gardens where Babajan often used to sit. A big chair was placed for Baba and a large rug spread on the earth in front of it. We gathered quickly round Him, and He called for the children to come to the front and sit on the rug. Everyone else crowded close together, straining to get a good glimpse of Him.

Eruch was absorbed in attending Baba. Arti was sung, then all too soon Baba was helped into His car. Again everyone surged forward to be near Him, and then very slowly the car began to move, inching its way towards the road between the lines of lovers trying to keep near Him till the very last. Everyone was waving to Baba, He was waving and smiling to everyone.

The moment of leaving came, the car gradually gathered a little more speed and moved away from all the outstretched arms, the words of farewell, the smiles, the tears. The car accelerated, and was soon gone, merged with distance, while eyes strained to catch the last glimpse of it, heart scarcely able to bear the final wrench of parting from the Beloved.

I felt as though something of me had gone with Him. Even now I can still feel that aching ; still see the car diminishing to a speck and disappearing ; remember turning to walk slowly back to the hotel with the others.

Over the next four days there was time to relax a little. We took walks in the area near the hotel, went to the shopping centre, enjoyed a rickshaw ride, watched the people going about their daily lives ; and spent time together over afternoon teas on the balconies of our rooms, talking of the wonderful days with Baba, one or another at times suddenly silent, far away with personal recollections.

The weather was still quite hot, and at night the heady perfume from the starry white flowers on the trees close to the hotel building would drift across to us on the warm air. We were seemingly in a little world of our own there, separated by these tall trees from the movement and traffic and noise of the city which went on ceaselessly, day and night.

One morning we were all taken to see the Baba places in Poona : Sassoon Hospital where He was born, Pumpkin House, Baba House with the well and Baba’s Room, St Vincent’s School and Deccan College, Babajan’s Shrine, Bund Gardens and the Racecourse where Baba often walked with the mandali in later years.

We also went to a talk given by Adi K Irani at one of the hotels where a few Americans still stayed, and were taken into the almost-finished Avatar Meher Baba Poona Centre.

Bill, Reg and Craig left to fly back to Australia on the 12^th because of their jobs, so it was arranged for Francis to escort the rest of our group by the morning train to Bombay on 15^th November, and thence aboard the Arcadia in the late afternoon.

Kishore Mistry, one of the helpers specially assigned to our group in Poona, was also there to farewell us. On the ship after dinner he sang the Arti to Baba’s photograph in the lounge room with all of us there, and then went ashore.

Francis also said goodbye on the ship and left to catch the late train back to Ahmednagar. We sailed at 1 AM on 16^th November and reached Sydney on 3^rd December.

And so the great event I had travelled halfway across the world to attend was over. But a new life had begun for me, with an entirely new significance and purpose.

God-Man had so quietly and gently drawn me to Him, had embraced me, had awakened my heart to His love, and had begun to make me aware of the sweet gift of His Companionship, a gift which He continues to add to as the years go by, helping me to be with Him and to leave everything to Him.

Judith Garbett. © 1999 AMBPPCT