My Savitri work with the Mother

20 December 1957

Her blue-grey eyes glistened with laughter and joy. She said:

On 20th December I shall call you in the morning and show you all the reproductions of this lady's paintings.

At that time it did not occur to my mind that the Mother had been giving hints about expressing Savitri through paintings in the future. My head was full of hotchpotch. I lived too much in an egoistic and petty physical consciousness.

If the Mother was preparing and planning for a big work, I did not take it seriously. How was I to give any thought to such a notion when impossibility was stamped on my consciousness? Besides what knowledge did I have of Savitri? I gave no response to this fantastic idea, feeling sure that the Mother would try in vain.

On the 19th I painted the chrysanthemums and white dahlias sent by the Mother. I showed her the paintings in the evening. She held my hands and said eagerly:

Child, we shall express the Supramental Truth through paintings.

And she laughed.

At that very instant a prayer surged spontaneously from my heart. I urged:

"O, Mother, let your will be done."

The Mother pressed my hands and affirmed:

Yes.

I did not realise at that moment what I had babbled out. But later at night I became aware and chided myself:

"Fool, do you think that to express the Supramental Truth is an easy thing? Stupid, the Mother was talking about the higher and superior things. You have to live that Truth first."

Tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks. I knew, and knew it perfectly well, that it was impossible for me to express and create anything unique. I was incapable, helpless. Panic fluttered in my whole being like the beating of a thousand frenzied wings. A series of thoughts swarmed into my brain and vibrated intensely. Sleep was elusive.

But William Blake has said:

Great things are done when men and mountain meet.
This is not done by jostling in the street.

The succeeding morning of Friday 20th December 1957 I received a big professional easel from England. It was to be installed in my apartment in Huta House, which was still in the process of renovation. In the morning the easel was taken to the Meditation Hall upstairs. The Mother entered the Hall and met me, according to the previous arrangement. Her eyes widened when she saw the easel. She examined it very meticulously, and expressed her happiness. Then instead of sitting in her usual chair, she sat in one of the chairs which were against the wall on the right side of her high-backed carved chair. She asked me to sit on a chair beside her. I refused and sat near her feet.

The Mother showed me quite a number of reproductions of the German lady's paintings. They were indeed inspiring.

I exclaimed: "Mother, do you remember, you sent me one of these reproductions? It depicted a beautiful new-born baby sleeping in the heart of a luminous rose."

She smiled and nodded. Afterwards she took my hands into hers and went into a profound meditation. I thought it never-ending. It lasted more than an hour. I was completely indrawn, feeling within me a comforting peace and deep silence. But suddenly I was startled. The Mother slapped my hands very hard. Instantly I opened my eyes and looked at her inquiringly. She leaned from her chair, caressed my hands tenderly, joined them and said with a smile:

Do not be alarmed, my child, I have now filled your hands with consciousness, light, force and skill.

Then she gazed at my hands intently for a few seconds and patted them once again.

The wonderful boon she gave me was not fantasy or imagination, but reality. She made my hands conscious and receptive.

In the evening once more the Mother and I meditated together.

At night numerous questions arose in my head: "Why does the Mother take so much trouble? Why me and not others? What intention is in her mind?" There was a train of "Whys" without clear answers.