Others too had to understand Her secret - her own disciples, Nations. Will she be heard? Will she be allowed to pursue her experience? '... The body knows that the work will go on and on and on...'
The last turning point of Mother's yoga, and she comes out of it with this cry: "I have walked a long, long time. There was nothing but a constant cry, as if everything were torn away from me. It was the whole problem of the world." And this Agenda is more and more strewn with heartrending little cries. It was not enough to have found the secret for herself, the others too had to understand, her own disciples, Nations locked in their egoistic power: "They have no faith! 'She is old, she is old', an atmosphere of resistance to the change; 'it is impossible, impossible' from all sides.... Not a single minute should be wasted - I am in a hurry.... The reign of the Divine must, oh, must come!.... If the entire Russian block were to turn to the right side, that would be an enormous support! The victory is certain, but I don't know which path will be followed to reach it.... We must cling, cling so tightly to Truth.... They don't listen to me any more." She is 93, groping her way into the unknown: "I see more clearly with eyes closed than with eyes open, and it is a physical vision, purely physical, but a kind of physical that seems more complete. The consciousness of the cells is what has to change, all the rest will follow naturally! I have the feeling I am on my way to discovering the illusion that must be destroyed so that physical life may go on uninterrupted - death is the result of a distortion of consciousness." Will she be heard? Will she be allowed to pursue her experience? "Only a violent death could halt the transformation; otherwise the body knows that the work will go on and on and on...." And this cry again: "There will be a miracle! But what, I don't know."
(Satprem reads to Mother some passages from yesterday's conversation that will be published in the "Bulletin." Mother's voice is like a long moan, but her laugh is still ready to break out, as if laughter were the only true physical thing remaining.)
It's good, you've done just what was needed. It's just right, you've said it just perfectly.
It really wasn't useless.1
(silence)
I have such an impression—such a vivid and clear impression that the contact (with Satprem) was CONSCIOUS the whole time. It was a conscious contact. As if we were making an effort together to try to understand things—circumstances are there to help you and further your understanding.
Even when outwardly I was in pain and people thought I was entirely lost in my suffering, it didn't concern me. I don't know how to explain it.... I saw very well that my poor body was not brilliant, but it didn't concern me. There was always the impression of that... that Truth which has to be understood and manifested.
I wondered, I thought, "How come I didn't see you for so many days?" And I had the impression that I was constantly with you. It was vivid—absolutely vivid and strong, very strong.... Quite a natural impression—not sought for, not the result of an effort, nothing: absolutely natural; the impression that we were together there (gesture above the head), just above the head—just, just above the head together. And what you've just read is exactly what I would have said.
It is what you said.
It's very good. I am happy.
It served some purpose.
(Mother takes Satprem's hands)
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So... I don't know, I can see you some morning, if necessary—just let me know.
You have to let me know! You tell me when you think....
Me.... You know, in appearance (in appearance, to all appearances!), I've become a poor little creature full of pain. It's not over. There are still hours; for hours on end it still hurts. It's not over. So.... The appearance is quite accurate: a kind of painful little creature. But it's irrelevant, if you tell me, "I need to see you" or "I have something to ask you," or... then I will say yes and I'll call you. It would be more convenient for me.
I wouldn't dare.
I can't plan anything because....
Yes, Mother, yes.
Because I am still a... a quarter of a person!
Mother, whenever you want, you'll call me yourself.
In any case, when the Bulletin is ready, you'll come and show it to me.
Au revoir.
(Satprem leaves, Mother takes Sujata's hands)
(Laughing) I gave your flowers to Satprem, so you don't have any!
I have your hands, Mother!
Are you all right, mon petit?
Yes, Mother.
You had some trouble here (pointing to the chest), is it over?
It's almost over.
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Only almost.... Are you coughing?
No, Mother.
(Mother sits concentrated)
Would you like to have a small photo to keep with you, or do you have one?
I would, Mother.
(To the assistant:) Bring me the box of photos.
Something you can put like this (next to the chest).
Do you know this one?
You don't know it!
(Mother holds the photo between her hands)
I am giving it to you with special intention that you get COMPLETELY well. Completely, so there's no more trouble.
Au revoir, mon petit.
So then, give me a sign or let me know (laughing): "It would be good if you saw Satprem!" All right? (laughter)
When you really feel like seeing me.
I always feel like seeing you, so...!
(Laughing) You can come by [every day] and say, "Good morning, Mother! Good morning, Mother! Good morning...." (Mother makes a little gesture with her hand.)
Fine, Mother.
That's always possible. Now it's not like before. I have time.
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I never leave you.
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