Memorable Contacts with The Mother

XVI: SWEETNESS AND LIGHT

1971 - 1973

The Mother’s unexpected sanction and encouragement for writing Twelve Years with Sri Aurobindo, spurred me to action and I began working on the book. She seemed to have pumped a Force into me at the same time so that I had to be constantly busy and active which is against the grain of my nature. My personal contact with her had stopped owing to her illness. Now I felt that it should be renewed: then I might draw some inspiration directly from the contact. My prayer was granted and I started seeing her once a week. It was not quite the same Mother as I had seen in 1967 and 1968. Physically she had become frail, but her face was ever bright and her energy as dynamic as before. Every day a host of people - sadhaks and visitors — were pouring in to have her blessings; on some days the number shot up to a hundred or more. The visitors went in a line and returned after having her darshan, but without doing pranam.

My book took a tentatively final shape by the beginning of November. I wondered whether the Mother would like at least some parts of it read out to her. But even if she wished, she had no time, so crowded was her programme. I consulted Kumud who was attending on her and used to arrange her programme. Kumud said that Andre would be leaving for France before the November Darshan. His time of seeing the Mother—between 7 and 7.30 p.m.

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would fall vacant. That was the only occasion she could think of, provided, of course, the Mother consented to hear me read. But Kumud wished personally that the Mother should be left completely free during this short span, since after the whole day’s work, she badly needed some rest. On the other hand, she knew that there were persons waiting eagerly to grab this time as soon as André would leave and the Mother could not refuse them. So, between the alternatives, mine would be preferable and more pleasant. In this dilemma we decided to leave the issue to the Mother herself. Just on the eve of André’s departure, I went to see her. I placed my proposal before her. She at once "fell for it", to my utter surprise and said, "I would very much like to hear it, but when?" We were waiting with suppressed animation. Then she added herself, "Tomorrow André is leaving. We can use that time. You can start reading at 7 and stop at 7.30 when Pranab comes." How glad we were both for her consent and for our conjecture proving successful. I was also struck by the happy coincidence of all these circumstances as if a Force had been guiding them from behind.

The next day, before 7 p.m., I was on the terrace outside her room, with a thrilled expectation and some nervousness, as I had rarely felt before. To be so close to her and be able to read something of my own composition seemed, a dream come true. Of course, when I was attending on Sri Aurobindo, I used to read out to him and the Mother people’s writings, but there was Sri Aurobindo too and that made a big difference. I was called in: the Mother was seated in her chair, looking very fresh, a picture of sweetness and light. I did my pranam. She smiled very

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affably. "Maharaj" Champaklal gave me a low stool to sit on her right side while he sat on the floor in front of us. Kumud was silently busy with her work. The white glow, hushed silence, the shadowy branches of the Service tree outside waving against the window panes created an appropriate mystic ambience. As I started reading, the Mother closed her eyes to hear every word of it, as it were. At 7.30 I stopped and told her that it was time. She opened her eyes. As I was doing pranam before leaving, she caressed and patted my head, looked into my eyes steadily and then said with a gracious smile, "A domain’" (Tomorrow). My heart leaped in joy: I had passed with distinction, if not with honours! I leave my readers to imagine my feeling -1 had heaven in my very hand — to use a Bengali expression.

In this manner the reading continued from day to day and she listened with an unflagging interest till the end. Once she had even said to me, "I wait eagerly for you." What a soul-stirring compliment, and that too from the Mother! One day the reading had crossed the time-limit; still I could not stop since she seemed to be so intent on listening. Pranab arrived and waited, perhaps with a certain displeasure, for 7.30 had been fixed for her dinner at the doctor’s bidding. We knew that the Mother had very often to be irregular for her meals. So, Pranab saw to it that the rule was observed and he would not tolerate any breach on that score. Somewhat guiltily and in a hurry, I came away. But it was a sign that the Mother was gripped. I had thus won the first round. The reading went on apace; even the Darshan day evening (24th November, 1971) was not spared. I did not go for the March Past.

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It seems I read in such a loud and sonorous voice that people used to gather below in the courtyard to hear and that they could catch almost every word. Somebody said to me, "What you are reading is extremely interesting. Why don’t you read it to us in the Playground?" The suggestion appealed to me for spiritual, as well as practical reasons; the practical one being that it would mean a good sale of the book. I put the proposal before the Mother. "Oh, you want to read in the Playground? Very good. But read every word slowly and distinctly." Then she added with a sweet smile, "Don’t be in a hurry." From her remark, I conjectured that perhaps I was not reading to her in the manner she had suggested. Much later she herself pointed it out to me.

The reading in the Playground was a great success. The packed audience listened, as it were, to a tale of supernatural mystery, in breathless wonder.

So far the Mother had been a silent admirer, if I may use the word. But as I was approaching the chapter on the Mother, I could not but feel uneasy and even abashed, for it was the poorest chapter in quality and quantity, almost like a farce or an anti-climax. I could not find sufficient material to write about her during that specific period of contact with Sri Aurobindo except what I had narrated in the previous chapters. When I spoke frankly about my embarrassment to her, "Maharaj", who was always seated in front of us listening or at times dozing, leaped up immediately and said, "Why don’t you ask Mother to give you inspiration?" I was hesitating. He pressed, "Ask, ask!" Then I did and she simply smiled. But what happened was nothing short of a miracle. From the next

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day, ideas began to flow in at a tremendous speed, as if a sluice-gate had been opened. The result was that it became one of the longest chapters of the book. Strangely enough, all the facts had been there but a veil seemed to have fallen upon them and covered them from my sight; the veil removed, all the hidden subliminal treasures were revealed at a glance. Here was a very tangible instance of the effect of the force of Inspiration. Of course I had the proof when I was writing poetry, but this was almost an immediate physical evidence. It was in the course of this chapter that I had spoken of her occult way of working with regard to our game of tennis with her. When she heard the part concerning myself, she observed, "I admire your understanding."

This was the first personal remark she had uttered since I commenced reading the book.

My reading went on in a happy canter; the pace was a bit too fast, a chapter was finished in about two days. Now a selfish fear caught hold of me. I thought if I proceeded at this speed, the book would be run out in a fortnight, after which my chance of going up would cease. I tried to slow down my tempo; even so, the terminus was not far off. I told of my concern to X. She used to see the Mother and had a close relation with her and was sympathetic to me. She came forward with a bright suggestion: ’Why don’t you read your Correspondence to her?" It is such a wonderful book! I don’t think she has read it. Sri Aurobindo could not have read out all the letters." This idea had never come to my head; woman’s brilliant intuition, indeed! But I hesitated to act upon it, for I thought the book was now pretty old; it had parts on

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literature in which the Mother would hardly find interest. Above all, the tone of the letters was so full of "jocund grace", that the Mother might disapprove. All these points apart, I could not pluck up courage to make this proposal to her. Then S gallantly said, "I will!" And she did, persuading her that she must hear the correspondence, so sparkling it was. The Mother agreed and herself proposed the plan to me. I was overjoyed to see my lease extended.

The reading of my book was finished sometime in December, I believe. She had kept a sustained interest throughout with eyes closed in rapt attention. Near about 7.30 p.m. I would signal to "Maharaj" that we should wind up. He would say, "Call out to her," and I would shout, "7.30, Mother!" which would bring her down to our world of reality. Then she would open her eyes and "give a broad smile", as "Maharaj" used to say. He himself would then get up, remove the table-lamp and leave me room for pranam, after which I would make my reluctant exit from the ethereal Presence.

This is the story of Twelve Years with Sri Aurobindo. She hardly made any verbal comment on the book at the time but, later on, accorded an unexpectedly magnificent tribute to it. When objections were raised against certain passages, for instance, the Mother’s kissing Sri Aurobindo’s hand or combing his hair, she said, "I find nothing objectionable." I was pacified.

Simultaneously with the reading, revisions, changes and corrections were proceeding, specially about the style, for as I have said, the book was completed in a rather rough form before I wanted the Mother to hear it, for reasons stated above. I cannot but mention Amal and Clair, his

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friend, offering their happy cooperation in revising the book and giving it a stylistic perfection. When after passing through many versions, it was almost ready to come out, I prayed to the Mother with hesitation, if she would write something. She at once asked Champaklal to give her a piece of paper. He rushed for the paper and her favourite felt pen. Then she wrote,

"Grâce à Nirod
nous avons la révélation
de tout un côté
inconnu de ce qu’ était
Sri Aurobindo.”¹²

Then she added in English:

"It is extremely interesting and very instructive."

As she could not see very well while writing, the lines would not keep straight. "Maharaj", Kumud and myself were watching her hand. Whenever she showed a tendency to break the line or the margin, "Maharaj" corrected her and guided her hand saying, "Mother, here, here! Now it is all right," and so on. Like a child she obeyed the directions. One could see from the copy how the lines had wavered and become unsteady. When she had finished, she asked, "All right?" We replied, "Yes, Mother." I wish I had been more expressive, for she wanted and cherished the heart’s sincere eloquence. What she had written was

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beyond my wildest imagination. I felt so grateful to Her and Him for having inspired me all through and enabled me to finish the work just in time for Sri Aurobindo’s Birth Centenary. My worshipful gratitude to them had behind it the feeling of the endless trouble they had taken to fashion my raw material into a writer and to mould it into a spiritual stability full of trust in their Grace. Talking about gratitude reminds me of a significant dream I had some years ago. One evening I was in a reminiscent mood asking myself why Sri Aurobindo had showered on me so much kindness of which I was not in the least worthy. I regretted that I could not make any return, even in a small degree, for his unaccountable magnanimity.

At about 2.45 a.m. as I had sat to meditate, I heard a voice speaking in Bengali. Rendered into English, it would mean: Man can only express his gratitude, he can do nothing more.

This seemed to be in answer to my evening musing.

When the book came out, she received the news with her usual candid smile and blessed it with her touch and glance. Now I made two audacious prayers. I requested her, in the first place, to give her signature on a few copies which I could present to the friends who had been of inestimable help, and, in the second place, to receive three of them particularly and give them each a copy with her own hand; the three being Amal, Clair, and Sudha, my assistant. She granted both the prayers and asked me to bring them along with me one evening. When Amal heard about the proposal, he jumped up with joy and said, "Nothing can be better!" So they came and received her much-coveted signature and her personal touch which

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were so rare in those days. Thus is completed the story of the book - Twelve Years with Sri Aurobindo, a God-given gift.

CORRESPONDENCE

Then started the reading of Correspondence. It would take a longer time, I thought, since it was a bigger book than Twelve Years with Sri Aurobindo. But would she find it equally interesting? I wondered. Still I observed that she was showing a keen interest. When we had advanced a bit and touched upon the topic of Karma Yoga which has truly some of the finest letters, the Mother asked:

"When are these letters appearing in the Bulletin?”, (The Correspondence was being translated into French and published there at that time.)

"It will take time, Mother," I answered.

"Oh, if I had them by my side, I could ask people to read them. Sri Aurobindo has answered all the problems in your letters. C’est merveilleux.”

"We can give you copies, Mother.”

"Then it is all right."

This was on January 2nd, 1972. Three days later I told her, "Mother, I had a dream this morning. You were telling me that Sri Aurobindo had given me everything; you have nothing to give."

"It is true," she replied.

"But I want a lot of things from you," I rejoined. She smiled, caught hold of my hand and added, "I mean from the point of view of Yoga, he has said everything. It is marvellous, it is marvellous."

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She stroked gently my hand, looked into my eyes for a while, then closed her eyes and blessed me.

Our reading continued till the middle of May. I had skipped the parts on literature, poetry, style, etc., the main subjects being yoga and medicine. There was no further comment from her side. She enjoyed Sri Aurobindo’s humour a great deal, smiled and laughed quite often, to my surprise. For, I used to labour under a fear during my correspondence with Sri Aurobindo lest she should frown upon my levity and I should face her "rolling eyes" at Pranam. It was quite the reverse here that I found. When someone had remarked to Sri Aurobindo that the Mother lacked humour he replied that her humour was very subtle. Once during my twelve years with Sri Aurobindo, the Mother on entering his room had a vision of two children playing and gambolling with each other on his bed. The children were supposed to be Sri Aurobindo and myself. I believe it referred to our sallies and repartees of the Correspondence-period.

Here is what she said to S:

Nirod is reading out to me his correspondence with Sri Aurobindo, and it contains all the things (it’s amusing), the things I said long, long afterwards, and I didn’t know that he had written them! - exactly the same thing. I was very much interested.

In this correspondence, he told Nirod in a letter¹ (he said it several times): "I may take a fancy to leave my body before the supramental realisation..." He said that a few years before he died. He had felt it.

(Silence)

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But he spoke of a transformation that would come before the advent of the first supramental being ². And that was what he told me. He told me that his body was not capable of bearing this transformation, that mine was more capable - he repeated it.

But it is difficult, I told you so the other day.

Food, especially, is... it has become a labour.

19 January 1972

Have you read the whole "Correspondence with Nirod"?

I am translating it as I go along, so I haven’t read the whole thing.

There are extraordinary things in there. He seems to be joking all the time but... it’s extraordinary.

You see, I lived - how many years? Thirty years, I think, with Sri Aurobindo - thirty years from 1920 to 1950. I thought I knew him well, and then when I hear this, I realise that... (Mother makes a gesture as if to indicate a breaking of bounds.)

16 February 1972

According to what Nirod is reading out to me now of his correspondence with Sri Aurobindo, it seems to have been the same thing for Sri Aurobindo. Because, according to what he wrote (you will see when you read it), I am always the doer. He says: "Mother says, Mother does, Mother..." You see, as far as the organisation of the Ashram is concerned (relations with people and all that), it would

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seem that, quite naturally, all the time, it is all done through me.

And you know, from the point of view of humour, I have never read anything more wonderful, oh!... He had a way of looking at things... it’s incredible. Incredible. But it seems that for him, the outside world was something... absurd, you know.

(...)

Oh! it’s very strange. It’s very strange. Since my childhood all my effort has been to (how can I put it?) achieve a total indifference - neither annoying nor pleasant. Since my childhood, I remember a consciousness which tried... That was what Sri Aurobindo meant - an indifference. Oh! it’s strange. Now I realise why he said that I was the one who could attempt to effect the transition between the human and the supramental consciousness. He said so. He told me, and he says it, it is recorded in Nirod’s thing. And I understand why...

Ah! I understand.

Yes, I understand.

26 April 1972

I am hearing - through Nirod - things that Sri Aurobindo said, and he himself says that he contradicted himself a considerable number of times... (...) and that, of course, the two or three different ways are true ³. So we can be as... as wide as he!

In tact his understanding was very flexible - very flexible. While listening to the things he said, I felt that I had understood very little of what he meant. And now that

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I am more and more in touch with the supramental Consciousness, I can see that it is extremely flexible - flexible and complex - and that it is our narrow human consciousness that sees things... (Mother draws little squares in the air) fixed and definite.

(...)

And I can see that when one goes above the mind, it becomes... it is like waves on the sea.

14 February 1973

Now the question of reading the "Talks" was considered. She accepted the proposal, but since André had arrived and he had many private communications for the Mother, she proposed that I should read on alternate days, and if I had no objection André could join us and listen. This was the arrangement. When André heard about it, he graciously proposed to the Mother that I could come on his day as well, just do pranam and leave. Therefore my chance of seeing her every day continued. I was naturally very gratified and thanked André in my heart for this benevolent gesture. On my day of reading, André was given a stool with a cushion to sit on in front of the Mother, while I used to sit close to her on her right side so that she might hear me properly. She used to enquire if André was comfortably seated and could hear well. Now and then he used to bring Manoj and Sumitra with him, the former being in charge of the Copyright section and the latter his secretary. When I had finished reading the first Talk which ends with one of us stating that the Mother’s Prayers and Meditations contains many things identical with Sri Aurobindo’s philosophy and Yoga, she

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asked, "What did he say?" "He simply heard it, Mother," I answered.

The following day, I told the Mother that I had seen her in my dream at night, applying something on my head. She asked with a smile, "What’s the result?"

"I don’t know, Mother."

"You will know within a few days."

I am afraid, I did not - too obtuse perhaps!

The name of X had figured very often in the "Talks". The Mother had so far listened to it quietly without making any comments. But when the next time I read, "X says..." she burst out, "Why do you read about him? You have been doing it for so many days. I am not interested in him. Why do you give him so much importance? Don’t you know how nasty he has become and what he is doing? We have sent to the Press a statement that we have no connection with him."

This person had left the Ashram disregarding the Mother’s advice not to go and had spread the false news outside that she had permitted him. He was taking part in politics as a self-styled mouthpiece of Sri Aurobindo, though Sri Aurobindo had forbidden all his disciples to join politics. The Mother could not stand such insincerity and falsehood.

Another day, apropos of my reading a Talk on Jules Romain, a famous French writer, the Mother asked, "Those letters of Sri Aurobindo you once read out - were they on Jules Romain?"

"Yes, Mother," I answered.

"He who could see and hear without the use of eyes and ears? Not Remain Rolland?"

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"No, Mother; it is Jules Romain."

"I am asking because Romain might mean Romain Rolland."

"Yes, but it is Jules Romain all right, doctor and literary man; and it was not from Sri Aurobindo’s letters I was reading but from the talks we had had with him."

The Mother, to be fully sure, wrote also the name on a piece of paper and showed it to me. "Then it is all right," she said. "When my brother was the Governor of the Sudan," she added, "he met Jules Romain and asked him to come here. But he never came."

"You like his books very much, it seems?"

"Yes, I had a whole collection of his works. I don’t know where they are now. Have you read them?"

"Yes, Mother, I have read some. They are fine; some are about occult things."

When the Mother was taking a French class in the Playground with a selected few of us, she read out a drama called Dictateur by Jules Romain. The reading was superb. I think a picture was taken of her while reading it.

A disciple had sent through me a letter to the Mother saying that she had a strong double attraction, one for Sri Krishna and the other for the Mother. She could not leave either. What should she do?

The Mother answered, "Why double attraction? There is no opposition. When I used to walk in the verandah of Sri Aurobindo’s first house [the Guest House], Krishna used to walk with me. Sri Aurobindo would see us from his room, but nobody else could."

Months rolled on; we reached September. Andre was to leave for France and he had still many problems to discuss

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with the Mother. So she said to me one evening, "Andre will be going back. He will read his documents now every day till his departure, after which you will read your book every day. Is it all right?"

"Quite all right, Mother," I replied.

"But you can come every day as usual," she added and patted me,

Throughout the long period of my reading, André used to listen quietly without making any remark. Occasionally he would appreciate something with a smile, or the Mother would draw his attention to certain points Sri Aurobindo had made. The relation between the Mother and son was a subject of immense interest for me to observe. I remembered how she used to talk of André to Sri Aurobindo and, when he was to arrive for the first time, after a separation of over thirty years, how anxious she was to meet him, almost like a human mother. I was thus given an opportunity to see the Divine’s love expressed in the human way. It was simple, unostentatious and yet very sweet. Every day she would enquire about his health, if he was seated comfortably, etc. He, in his turn, would take hold of her hand and kiss it. That was all the expression I saw, so quiet yet so profound! I wonder how Buddha and his child greeted each other when they first met.

One thing I noticed about André’s reading was that the Mother could follow his natural intonation quite easily, while I had to shout at the top of my voice. I found two reasons for it. He sat at a right angle to the Mother on her right side so that the sound could enter straight into her ear, but in my case our faces being turned in the same

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direction, my voice could reach her sideways. Another reason was that he was reading or speaking mostly in French. Also, possibly his pronunciation was more clear and he had struck upon the exact pitch needed. Apart from all this there was a closer rapport, perhaps.

One incident is worth recording as an illustration of the Divine’s way of action. Arabinda Basu (alias Arindam) had gone to Delhi as the Director of an international Seminar on Sri Aurobindo and Human Unity. It was being sponsored by the National Committee for Sri Aurobindo’s Birth Centenary which was set up by the Government of India with the then President as its President and the then Prime Minister as its Chairman. Arabinda in his capacity as the Director was in charge of organising the Seminar in all its aspects. He prayed to the Mother, through me, for a message to be read at the inauguration of the Seminar. The Mother told me that she would not give a message but would give her blessings. She said she would write out "Blessings" on a card which could be sent to Arabinda. On being informed of this by me, Arabinda wrote back that he accepted the Mother’s decision and was looking forward to receiving the card. The Seminar was to be held from December 5th to 9th, 1972. Arabinda rather unexpectedly came to the Ashram for the Darshan on 24th November. And almost as soon as he arrived he wrote to the Mother repeating his prayer for a message on the following grounds: first, the Seminar was the last function in connection with the Centenary; secondly, 60 delegates were coming from 26 countries of 4 continents; lastly, the Prime Minister who had not attended any of the functions had agreed to come to the inaugural session. I had to take the letter up to the Mother though I reasoned with him

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that perhaps he should not insist on having a message. He said he was not insisting on it, that he had accepted the Mother’s decision but on reaching the Ashram he felt very strongly that the Seminar should start with a message from the Mother. When I took the letter up to the Mother one or two people present there remarked that she should not be asked to give a message since she had already refused to do so. I, however, felt it my duty to read Arabinda’s submission to the Mother. What followed was quite unexpected.

The Mother kept quiet for a short while, then began to concentrate. I do not know how Champaklal read the situation but he kept paper and a pen ready at hand. The Mother was in a trance. When she came to, she started writing on the paper. After a moment she stopped and closed her eyes again. She seemed to be somewhat hesitant. But it later transpired that the message was first coming in French though she meant to give it in English. Anyway she began to write and penned the word "hommage". André and I looked at each other but did not say anything. The Mother, however, caught the vibration immediately and asked, "What is the matter?" We both said that it was nothing. But she asked again and I pointed out that "homage" in English is written with one m. When she asked what she should do, André suggested that she could strike out one m. She simply replied, "No, it has to be done perfectly. I will write it tomorrow." She did it the next day.

The message was: "The best homage we can pay to Sri Aurobindo is to prepare for the advent of the Supramental race."

Champaklal told me later that as soon as the Mother

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started concentrating, he felt that she would write a message and that is why he kept the paper and pen handy; he also added that he knew that the Mother did not refuse Arindam anything.

I was very happy indeed to receive the message, but I did not express it in words. "What? You don’t like it?" She asked in a rather sharp tone. "It is splendid, Mother," I replied quite startled. "Then why don’t you say so? It is as if you didn’t like it!"

I smiled. That is the Mother and that is myself. She wanted just and full expression whereas, like myself, I acted reticently. Mine was not a vocal appreciation. Her nature always invited forwardness; we should come forward and not wait to be called. Once, I remember, we had assembled for Pranam. Someone had offered a big spray of the flower "Disinterested Work" having many small twigs. The Mother came, saw the branch and was very pleased. Then looking at all of us, she asked, "Who wants it?" Nobody stirred. A little piqued, she said, "Oh, nobody wants it? Very well!" Then one of us rushed to her and said, "Mother, I want." Others followed.

The first item on the programme of the inaugural meeting of the Seminar was the reading out of the message by Arabinda who later told me that it had given a flying start to the proceedings and that the distinguished audience had heard it with rapt attention in the atmosphere at once calm and powerful which it had created.

Another message of the Mother on Sri Aurobindo gave rise to a question which she herself answered. It was given for a collection of original essays by several writers on Sri Aurobindo, which Arabinda edited.¹³ It was published by

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the Sri Aurobindo Research Institute of which the Mother was the President and he was the Director. The message was:

"Sri Aurobindo is an emanation of the Supreme who came on earth to announce the manifestation of a new race and a new world: the Supramental.

Let us prepare for it in sincerity and eagerness."

A sadhak asked Arabinda about the phrase "an emanation of the Lord", "Was not Sri Aurobindo the Lord himself?" Arabinda referred the sadhak to me and I took his question to the Mother. She replied, "There is no essential difference, but the Lord is all and Sri Aurobindo is a part but conscious of the Supreme of whom he is an emanation."

"Then, is he not all?" I queried.

"Voyons,” she replied, a bit testily, "the Lord is every- where. Is Sri Aurobindo everywhere? He has a body by which he is confined to a place, but his consciousness is everywhere."¹⁴

I am reminded of my own question to Sri Aurobindo in a somewhat different context. I had asked him what the difference was between the embodied Mother and her emanations. Was an emanation of hers a deputy of the Mother? He answered, "The Emanation is not a deputy, but the Mother herself. She is not bound to her body, but can put herself out (emanate) in any way she likes..."

This clarifies, in its own way, the identity of consciousness between the Supreme Lord and his emanation.

After André had left for Paris, I fell ill in the beginning of November, the first illness that made me take to bed for

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about two weeks. What a misfortune! I thought. I had to lose the Beatific Vision and the nectar-touch of the Mother. "Maharaj" used to come and visit me every day bringing a flower from the Mother. He would not enter the room for fear of carrying the infection to her, but pop his head in from the door and bawl out, "How are you, Doctor?" and leaving a sunshine-smile in my dark room he would go .back and report to the Mother. One day he said that my birthday was approaching and that I must be up on my feet and present myself before the Mother. Well, his wish was fulfilled. I became quite well even before the date. She gave me a warm reception and we resumed our reading.

In the course of it I read out to her an account by X of the early Ashram-days. It had come out in a journal. Since it seemed a very good picture, I thought of reading it to her. The article was about the Mother’s dealing with the said person. The account conveyed the impression that she was very strict with him, stern like a school-teacher, ready to use the cane or rod for any slight infringement of his duty or any little false step, — no doubt, for the good of the person. We know that the Mother bestowed a great deal of personal attention on him. When I had finished reading, she remarked, "Je suis étonnée que j’ étais comme Ça; tout Ça est si loin!”¹⁵ Then I asked her if the report was not correct. She simply made a gesture with her hands to imply, "I don’t know." After a while she added, "Now I am another person."

"Yes, Mother," I affirmed with emphasis. I am afraid our impression, at least mine, was something near to what

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the article had depicted of the early days, and when I had audaciously written to Sri Aurobindo about her seeming sternness, I came in for a good dose of chastisement. For instance I wrote:

"I felt that the Mother was serious with me at Pranam, because perhaps she did not like my complaining about some sadhaks in the way I did." Sri Aurobindo’s reply was: "Rubbish! Mother did not think anything about it at all. Why the hell or heaven or why on earth or why the unearthly should she be displeased? You all seem to think of the Mother as living in a sort of daylong and nightlong simmering cauldron of displeasure about nothing and anything and everything under the sun. Lord! what a queer idea!"

Now all that had changed. Probably the change was brought about by the invasion of the children or by Sri Aurobindo’s withdrawal. That is what she meant perhaps when she said, "Now I am another person."

The next day I went with another instalment of the same account and was on the point of reading it, when "Maharaj" asked Kumud to tell me what the Mother had said regarding the previous article. Kumud said, "Mother doesn’t like it. It must not be published." "But it has been published!" I replied. "What shall I do now?" As I had not taken anything else for reading, the Mother said, . "Meditate then." We meditated for about ten minutes. It was a new experience indeed. We meditated on later occasions also when there was nothing to read. Sometimes she would go into a deep trance and the time-limit would be crossed. She had to be gently called, "Mother, it is time." This also failing, "Maharaj" would say, "Touch

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her." I would gently touch her and then she would open her eyes.

After a few days "Maharaj" gave me a copy of Madhav’s "Bulletin"¹⁶ dated 1.2.73 to read to the Mother. He had found it to be very well written. At some place she was not able to follow my reading. I therefore started explaining. "No, no! it is not that," she said with force, "I want to know the word; I don’t want an explanation. I can’t hear properly. You must read slowly and clearly. You don’t need to read loudly but read lentement et clairement." The word she failed to catch was "grip". I repeated it twice; still, she failed. Then I caught hold of her hand and said, "This, Mother." It was a bold demonstration on my part, a la "Maharaj". "Oh, grip, grip!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, Mother," I said, smiling.

Then she, on her part, took hold of my hand, by way of a second demonstration perhaps, pressed it and asked, "Is it strong?"

"Yes, Mother, very strong!" I replied enthusiastically.

At this moment Pranab arrived and it was our signal to go. I had to stop reading. She found the piece very interesting and wanted to hear more of it. But as I had pronounced that the time was up, she exclaimed, "C’esf dommage." (It is a pity.) I added, "Champaklal says, I have taken five minutes more."

"Cela ne fait nen!” (It doesn’t matter!) she replied defiantly.

I quote here the passage she found interesting:

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"A couple of friends from the United States have just arrived. They were last here some 2-3 years before. They had the surprise of their lives when they met the Mother last week. ’My!’ one of them said, ’Mother is much better in health than two years ago. She is younger, brighter and stronger.’ ’This time I knew what a beautiful smile is,’ said the other. ’Yes, indeed. She is beautiful. Her blue captivating eyes are bright as the sun; her rosy complexion has acquired a fresh tone. Her grip is as strong as that of a 20- year old.’ "

Here is the word "grip" mentioned in the talk above.

I cite now from the same "Bulletin" those portions of the article "After Mother, what?" on which the Mother made comments. The article is, by the way, very relevant today. Madhav writes, "... We are convinced that the Ashram has come into being, because it has a part to play in the Divine Scheme for humanity. It is not running on the lines of any public institution..,. As long as it has a role to play, the Divine will see to its continuance. If a time comes when its role is over, there is no reason why it should continue. It is the Divine’s look-out. We have plunged ourselves in the Divine Service and have no care. This is the simple truth..."

Against the last sentence, the Mother remarked, "This is good." Madhav continues:

"Way back in 1951, when the Mother first announced the idea to build up a Centre of Education as the best memorial to the ideal of Sri Aurobindo, she observed to a group of devotees who had gathered to know about the project, that it would take some thirty years for the centre to take full shape.

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" ’Would you be there with us then?’ was the impertinent question asked by one who used to look upon himself as the indispensable pillar of the Ashram. I will not say what the Mother replied. But know it that within a few years he himself passed away with a heart-attack."

The Mother then asked me, "Do you know my reply?"

I had already heard about it but I asked her, "Will you tell us, Mother?"

"No!" she answered. "But who was he?" she asked, because she used to forget many things, specially names of people. I told the name and asked, "Can your reply be inserted?" "No!" she protested. Now I can disclose the reply. She had said, "You will pass away long before me."

Lastly, Madhav writes:

"We know that if the Mother were to exert her personal will, things could be entirely different with her body and all around her. But she has chosen not to exercise her will. She has left everything to the Will of the Supreme Lord.

" ’Am I right, Mother?’ I asked the Mother this morning as I was speaking to her on the subject.

" ’Yes, you are right. I do not even ask to stay,’ she replied."

"She confirmed her answer by saying to me also, ’Quite right, quite right.’ "

Here ends the episode of Madhav’s "Bulletin".

"Maharaj" made me read out to the Mother a booklet called "What a sadhak must always remember" and a letter. The booklet was published in 1951. Both of them were letters written by Sri Aurobindo. The first letter has the date 1928. The second letter has been entitled by the

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Mother "Conditions to live in the Ashram and to become a disciple." She gave me a few copies to distribute to my friends.

About the booklet "Maharaj" said that he found it very interesting and very appropriate for the prevailing situation in the Ashram. Therefore he asked me to read it to the Mother. She also found it excellent and said that people should read it every day. I think it formed part of a general distribution by the Prosperity.

Somewhere by the middle of February T and K started coming to the Mother with a view to discuss various important matters regarding the School organisation. The Mother said to me, "They will come on alternate days. You can also remain at that time." On my days I read the "Talks" or any writing by others that was likely to be interesting to her. It was her act of grace to allow me to be present and listen to the others’ conversation, for I had no part in it at all. I would sit quietly near the Mother’s feet, observe, hear them and watch the Mother’s movements. I need not mention here all the topics they discussed except that when K started reading some selections he had made from Sri Aurobindo in order to compile a book meant for the young, the Mother was very interested to hear whatever related to the Supermind. She appreciated the selections a great deal and asked where they were going to appear. Her intention was that the youth of today should have a good grasp of Sri Aurobindo’s vision of the future. She said further that at Auroville there were some people who believed that they were on the way to manifest the Supermind and when they were told that it could not be, they would not believe. They should be made to read this

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book. It should be read by everybody.

This remark was made apropos of the citation K read about the Supermind: "The Supermind is in its very essence a true consciousness... a march to Light, to Ananda."

The Mother said, "It is very, very, very important. All the people who pretend to manifest the Supramental will be quietened down."

One evening T and K brought a few young teachers of the School with them. They were to introduce a new system of education in the School. They had been here from their childhood and were close to the Mother. A very practical question was posed by T which led to a long elevating talk by the Mother. There was such a fine homey atmosphere and it was so sweet to hear her at length after months, even years. The question was: "What is the best way to prepare ourselves so that we may be able to put in place the new structures?"

The Mother replied: "Naturally you have to enlarge and enlighten your consciousness. But how to do it? If each one of you could find your psychic being and unite with it, all the problems would be solved. The psychic is the representative of the Divine in the human being, isn’t it? The Divine is not something far off and inaccessible. The Divine is in you, but you are not altogether conscious of it. It acts now as an influence rather than as a Presence. It has to be a conscious Presence so that at all moments you can ask yourself how the Divine sees, and then how the Divine wills and how the Divine acts. And it does not mean going off into some inaccessible regions, it is here itself. Only at present all the old habits and the general consciousness

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put a cover which makes us unable to see and feel. This has to be removed. In fact, you have to be conscious instruments of the Divine. Usually it takes a whole life, at times for some people many lives. Here, in the present conditions, you can do it in a few months... those who have an ardent aspiration can do it..."

After a long silence, she asked, "Have you felt anything? Be quite sincere; say if you have felt anything or if it has made any difference to you. No answer?" The Mother asked each one in turn and each told his or her reaction. Then K asked, "Was there a special descent, Mother?"

The Mother: There is no descent... it is again a wrong idea. It is something that i§ always there, but which you don’t feel. There is no descent.... Do you know what is the fourth dimension?

K: It has been spoken of.

Mother: Have you experienced it?

K: No, Mother.

Mother: Ah! but this indeed is the best approach of modern science. The Divine for us is the fourth dimension.... It is everywhere, everywhere all the time. It doesn’t come and go, it is always there. It is we, who, with our imbecility, prevent ourselves from feeling it. There is no need for it to go away, not at all, not at all.

To be able to become conscious of your psychic being, you have to be capable once of feeling the fourth dimension. Otherwise you won’t be able to know what it is.

(After a silence) My God! It is 60 years since I knew what the fourth dimension is.... Indispensable! indispensable! life starts with it. Otherwise we are in falsehood, in a jumble, in disorder, in obscurity. The mind! mind!

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Otherwise to be aware of your own consciousness, you have to mentalise it. It is horrible, horrible!

T: Mother, the new life is not a continuation of the old, is it? It is a gushing out from within.

Mother: Yes, yes!

T: There is no common point between....

Mother: There is, but you are not conscious of it. But you have to be. It is the mind which prevents you from feeling it. You mentalise everything. What you call consciousness is the thought of things; it is not at all consciousness. Consciousness should be able to be lucid and without words. Altogether luminous, warm and strong and the true peace that is neither inertia nor immobility.

T: Mother, can this be given as an objective to all the children?

Mother: All, no! They are not of the same age, even when physically they are. There are children who are primary. If you were fully conscious of your psychic being, you would have known the children who have a developed psychic being.... There are children whose psychic being is only an embryo. The age of the psychic is not the same. Usually the psychic takes several lives to form completely, and it is that which goes from one body to another. That is why we are not aware of our past lives. But at times there is a moment when the psychic being participates in an event, it becomes conscious and it remembers. We have sometimes a partial recollection of a circumstance or of an event, of a thought, even of an action, because the psychic was conscious.

Now I am nearing a hundred, only five years more. I began the effort for becoming conscious at the age of five,

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my child, and I continue and it continues. Only recently I have taken up the work on the cells of the body, but it is a long time since the general work began.

It is not for discouraging you, but only to tell you that it is not done in this way.

The body is still matter which is very heavy and it is matter itself that must change so that the Supramental can manifest.

---

There were many other talks on different subjects concerning mainly the School. My reading continued on alternate days. When we used to read or talk the Mother would listen with her eyes closed. She would speak too in that way. Only when we were leaving, she would open them. We would then do pranam and receive her blessings. She could not make out distinctly the different persons. One day, as we bowed down one by one, she asked the name of each one with her eyes closed. After K, came T’s turn. When the Mother took hold of his hand, K said, "It is T." "Oh, I know," the Mother replied, "It is the hand of a European. I know the difference by the manner of holding." When another person came, she uttered, "It is the hand of an Indian."

As I was leaving last, after the others had left, she suddenly asked me, "Why didn’t you bow down?" I was so taken aback by her abrupt question that I did not know what to answer. I simply mumbled, "Mother, it is to spare you the trouble." "Trouble?" she rejoined, "What a funny idea! Is it trouble for me to put my hand on your head?"

"Mother," I replied quickly and apologetically, "sometimes,

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you are pressed for time; all of us are in a hurry to go lest you become late for your dinner. That is the reason." This explanation appeased her. Shaking her head she now said, "Then it is all right."

I was so moved by her sweet query and the intimate tone in which she had expressed her love and solicitude for me that I felt as if a veil had been lifted from my heart. These sudden touches were like stars gleaming out on a cloud- laden night.

The next day it was my turn to read, so I was alone. As soon as I had sat down, the Mother said, "I want to complete yesterday’s topic. The Indians believe or have the experience that the Divine lives in the human being. The Europeans don’t believe it. For them, he is some- where above. He has incarnated only in Jesus Christ. So they don’t bow down to any human person. But if one bows down to a person who has embodied the Divine Consciousness — of course with faith — then that person can more easily transmit his consciousness or experience to the other."

The day after the next, I read this statement out to her and asked her if I had reported correctly. She replied, "Yes, it is correct."

The next time, I started reading a talk on Y and wanted to know if she would approve of its publication. She asked, "Is he alive?" "No, Mother; he is dead," was my reply. "Then it is all right," she said.

Two or three days later, the Mother explained in French to T, a Frenchman, the significance of the pranam, when he was receiving her blessings before our departure. He

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did not usually do pranam; he would hold her hand only. Rendered into free English the significance would be explained somewhat as follows:

"This experience, when one has it in all sincerity, is the consecration to the Divine... in the entire creation. And this is the origin of the gesture... it is like a recognition... a surrender to Him in the creation.

"This is the true meaning. Naturally, there is not one in a thousand who does it in this way,... but it is the true meaning of this gesture."

What a deep meaning she revealed in the pranam, something truly wonderful! The French is like this:

Cette expérience-là, quand. on la fait en toute sincérité , c’est la consécration au Divin... dans toute la création. Ça, c’est l’origine de la chose... comme une reconnaissance— recognition en anglais-une reconnaissance... et une soumission au Divin dans la création.

Ça, c’est Ie vrai sens... naturellement... il n’y en a pas un sur un millier qui’le fait... mais c’est Ie vrai sens de ce geste.

When, after T and K had left, my turn came for pranam, the Mother placed her hand gently on my head and began to utter something very softly and musically. I could not catch it at first, then made it out. It was "Om namo bhagavaté . ”

It was a delightfully soothing experience, indeed. "Maharaj" also heard and asked me smiling, "Did you hear it? ”

"Yes, I did.”

"What was it?" he asked. He wanted always to verify.

"Om namo bhagavaté."

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The Mother had explained in one of our previous talks what this mantra meant for her. She had said, "These three words, for me they mean:

Om — I implore the Supreme Lord

namo — pranam (obéissance) to him

bhagavaté — make me ’divine’.

This is the translation... it has, for me, the power to make everything calm."¹⁷

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