Mother’s Agenda 1965

September 15, 1965

I spent my night in a... not a hurricane, not a cyclone, but... worse than any cyclone. I was in a dark room, with glass panes on all sides (that's symbolic), and through the glass panes, I saw... Everywhere I looked, there was wind blowing in all directions and carrying everything away: houses, trees, everything, but everything. Without letup.

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And an infernal noise. It was clear that it should also have carried away the place where I was, but that didn't move.

And an indication. The place where I was was very large (larger than a house), and I went about: I tried to rest somewhere, but the noise and din was so dreadful that it was impossible, so I got up. There were three people, two of whom have a body and the third doesn't have a body (I know them), and they weren't at the same place. The first person was with me, where I wanted to rest, but I said, "It's impossible," so I left that place and went to the other end, and there I found the person who doesn't have a body, watching intensely through those glass walls, like that, quite tense (which would tend to prove that it is also taking place in the subtle physical, or even in the most material vital). Oh, no one can ever imagine that.... There, I watched for a while, then I left to go back to the place where I was resting (with a slight inner work, saying to myself, "It's all right, I will still find the way to get some rest"). And on my way, I saw someone (N., not to name him) who was standing in a sort of corridor (but not narrow: a wide corridor), also watching intensely.

The hurricane didn't quite have the same color (how can I explain this?) in the large place where the person without a body was, and there, in that corridor; in the first place, it was very red, as if all the leaves were red, the trees were red (there were other colors, but red was the dominant color), while in the corridor, the color was muddier. But it was so strong! So strong that it was hard to get out of it.

And when I got out of it (it was 3 in the morning), I said to myself, "All right, let me look after something else now," and I made a special concentration to get out of it. And I found myself in a place I know very well, which is like a replica—a mental replica—of what I might call certain "Ashram rooms" (it's not exactly that, but it corresponds). And there was a gentleman there I knew very well, a Frenchman, who had come to see me. He had a big desk, he was sitting at the desk, waiting for you: you were expected (that's why I am telling you the story). But I myself wanted to see him before he saw you. There was something I wanted to tell him. Then, instead of going through the usual door, I went by another way and arrived before you. I saw him (we didn't speak to each other—I never speak to people), but he was very warm, very enthusiastic, very friendly and full of a sort of rather pleasant fervor—ignorant, but pleasant. A rather tall man, I think, dressed in an ordinary European suit. I can't describe him very

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well; if I saw him, I could say, "Yes, that's him." And he said two words to me that were like... that didn't mean anything at all, but that were like the expression of his feeling. I don't exactly recall the word, but it was nothing, it was "Oh!..." something. So I put my message into his head and left, and as I was leaving (Mother laughs), I almost bumped into you—you were rushing in! And I told you, "Don't worry, don't worry, everything is fine!" And I left.

Maybe it's one of the publishers, or maybe the man to whom you sent your article.¹

But I went there simply to get out of that hurricane: I didn't really intend to concern myself with all that, but I did; I told you, "Everything is fine, everything is fine, don't worry!"... I rarely see you so concretely: we almost bumped into each other! That was around 3:30 in the morning. You were fast asleep, no?

But it was your physical likeness: it means it is rather material. And it concerned your work, something you had written. It's not that I was preoccupied or specially occupied with it, no, I did it as a distraction.

But what's this hurricane? Is it going to come down on us?

(Silence)... It wasn't localized.... It could be a general war.

I have "received" many things.... I am beginning to attach importance to them because I have noticed that those "things" (which I always considered to be currents of thought going past that you catch as they go past) generally correspond to something that's going to happen, and they're like a way of letting me know in advance. So now I pay some attention to them. Well, I have received many things: for instance, the Chinese idea of taking advantage of the opportunity to become active; then this Indonesia business² that would also be used as an opportunity to make a move. And it appears, so I was told (I had seen it—lots of things come), it's a rumor (a rumor that spread up to the Government of India): the Prime Minister³ said we were threatened with a joining of China and Indonesia with Pakistan to give volume to the attack. He said it didn't matter.... But anyway, it's his duty to be optimistic.

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It impressed me as... as something global. It was awesome. Awesome—so much so that my body was shivering in my bed. It was awesome. I had to do a little sadhana to restore order.

(silence)

They say that the Americans have asked the Indians permission to evacuate their people (they have a lot of people in Lahore, there is a large American colony), they have asked for India's permission to send a fleet of planes to take all those people out, and India has authorized it.

Wait, I'll show you... (Mother gets up and goes to get a photo of General Chaudhuri.) A little over a month ago (I don't remember, it was about one week before S.M. came⁴)... I was looking for a man, I felt the need of a man in India, and then they proposed sending me the photo of the army chief. I said yes (he happens to be a cousin of K. here). The photo isn't good, but I see what I wanted to see; I saw it perhaps a month or a month and a half ago, and I have kept it under the accumulation of Forces, here (the photo is placed on a small table not far from Mother). He is the one who is now leading the armies.

The photo isn't good, but the man is good!

And long before there was anything active, he was with me. So I "charge" him with force.

(silence)

It seems, according to astrologers, that the combination of stars for the month of September is very bad for the earth. Naturally, this is always something to be cautious about, because it depends on people's intuition, on their capacity to interpret, whether their vision is broad enough and so on, but it seems that all the signs are undeniable and indicate that things are "bad" (that's vague, of course), "catastrophic." I was told this before, they said it in July. Only, I never attach too much importance to their conclusions, because they are always... And also, they say some very vague things that contradict each other. Personally, I don't know the first thing about all that, I am not trying to see—in fact I NEVER try to see (what came last night came very spontaneously, without my trying to see). The work, of course, is devoid of thought, of

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verbal expression, and constant; but it has been constant for a long time: the first time was at the beginning of the year, I think, at least six months ago. The second time, I told you I had one night an experience [the "pressure" of the Supreme] before anything really serious had taken place. Well, the first experience I had, of the consciousness hurling a fantastic power on the earth, which was necessarily going to shake things up, was at least six months before that second experience. And for those six months, it was constant: as soon as I came into contact with the earth consciousness, it was there, and constant, constant. Then came that indication: the pressure of the supreme Lord. And the third step was yesterday evening.

We'll see.

I am intentionally refusing to conjecture.

(Then Mother gathers the texts that will make up the next "Bulletin," among which is Sri Aurobindo's quotation from "Essays on the Gita": "...It is Rudra who still holds the world in the hollow of his hand...." See conversation of August 25)

You see, I told you! You asked me, "Do you see anything?" (Laughing) I told you, "We'll see."

Whatever happens, we must publish this text.