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An account of Huta's sadhana & the grace showered on her by The Mother - especially how Mother prepared her for painting the series: 'Meditations on Savitri'.

My Savitri work with the Mother

  The Mother : Contact   On Savitri

Huta
Huta

This book tells the story of how Huta came to the Ashram and began her work with the Mother. It presents a detailed account of how the Mother prepared and encouraged her to learn painting and helped her to create two series of paintings: the 472 pictures comprising Meditations on Savitri and the 116 pictures that accompanied the Mother's comments titled About Savitri. During their meetings, where the Mother revealed her visions for each painting by drawing sketches and explaining which colours should be used, the unique importance of Savitri and the Mother's own experiences connected to the poem come clearly into view. The book is also a representation of Huta's sadhana, her struggles and her progress, and the solicitude and grace showered on her by the Mother.

My Savitri work with the Mother
English
 The Mother : Contact  On Savitri

February 1961

Now it was February 1961. I was busy making a beaded hand-bag and a gown for the Mother. Every day the Mother sent me white roses and Prasad. She told me that she had put a special force in it. Every day in the afternoon I went to see her. Savitri-reading with Ambalal Purani was going on well. All other subjects seemed flat in comparison with this wonderful subject. Still there was no indication from the Mother about commencing the work of Savitri-paintings. The Mother kept quiet about her direct guidance to this project. Perhaps she was testing me and preparing me for the task, I thought.

My main trouble was an inferiority complex which seemed a chronic disease—an endless nightmare. I had gone to London to gain confidence. True.

Yet I felt that I was nobody in front of "intelligent" and "wise" people. I was hypersensitive and ultra-emotional. I thought that it was too late for me to do anything worthwhile. It would take an eternity to find the Divine Life. Time and age could not wait. They slipped by too rapidly.









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