The Spirit of Auroville

Piero and Gloria wrote to me on 30.8.91.

Dearest Huta,

Your visit to the Inner Chamber in the most significant moment of its realization has been a joy and an honour for us. Again thank you to have come. If we remember right, the 1st Sept, is your physical Birthday. All our best wishes to you in the Love and Light of Mother.

Gloria and Piero

The crystal globe reminds me of the Mother's prayer to the Divine Master on May 25, 1914. It is simply charming:

O Divine Master of love and purity, grant that in its stages, its smallest activities, this instrument which wants to serve Thee worthily may be purified of all egoism, all error, all obscurity, so that nothing in it may impair, deform or stop Thy action. How many little recesses lie yet in shadow, far from the full light of Thy illumination; for these I ask the supreme happiness of this illumination.

Oh, to be the pure flawless crystal which lets Thy Divine Ray pass without obscuring, colouring, or distorting it!—not from a desire for perfection but so that Thy work may be done as perfectly as possible.

And when I ask Thee this, that which speaks to Thee is the entire Earth, aspiring to be this pure diamond, a perfect reflector of Thy Supreme Light. All the hearts of men beat within my heart, all their thoughts vibrate in my thought, the slightest aspiration of a docile animal or a modest plant unite with my formidable aspiration, and all this rises towards Thee, for the conquest of Thy Love and Light, scaling the summits of Being to attain Thee, ravish Thee from Thy motionless beatitude and make Thee penetrate the darkness of suffering to transform it into Divine Joy, into sovereign Peace. And this violence is made of an infinite love which gives itself and trustful security which smiles with the certitude of Thy Perfect Unity.

O my sweet Master, Thou art the Triumpher and the Triumph, the Victor and the Victory.

The Inner Chamber and Crystal globe recalls to my memory these charming verses from Savitri:

In the passion of its solitary dream
It lay like a closed soundless oratory
Where sleeps a consecrated argent floor
Lit by a single and untrembling ray
And an invisible Presence kneels in prayer. ||88.12||