I Remember

granted that my body is not needed for the work to be achieved, and I will take all necessary measures for it to continue without my physical presence."

In this prayer when Mother says: "I have told to man ... ", the "man" in fact refers to me. Mother used to systematically use the word "man" while referring to me in her prayers.

(30)

It was the evening of 14th August in 1947. The local goondas attacked the Ashram and we faced up to it. During this period Udar and I set up a self-defence force made up of ashramites. In this work I often needed her advice or directions and so Mother permitted me to go and see her whenever I needed to. And from that time Udar and I started eating with her in the evenings. Later, Mother arranged for me to have lunch with her too. After some time, Udar asked Mother if his wife Mona and his daughter Gauri could also join us for lunch and she agreed.

During this period Ali and Alice used to occasionally prepare some dishes for Mother and they would be present here during lunch. Sometimes Ravindra-ji also used to be present.

Once, on my birthday (October 18th, 1949), Mother organised a little ceremony during lunch. She got a glass of red grape-juice prepared. Then she took a sip from it and passed it on to Ravindra-ji, Mona, Gauri and Udar to do the same. Then she gave the glass to me. She wrote down something on a piece of paper and signed it and then she asked Ravindra-ji, Mona, Gauri and Udar to sign below her signature and gave it to me. Here is what she had written:

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18.10.49

Pranab

You are our joy of every day

Our hope of today

Our victory of tomorrow.

Be yourself

and all will be well.

Let this wine of immortality

Be the wine of your complete victory.

Mother

And as for rest or sleep? She had very little time left for this. And I always felt that this was the cause of her occasional ill-health.

One day I told her: "Big government officers and dignitaries are very busy people too. But even they in the midst of a thousand things get time for food and rest. How come you don't?"

Mother answered: "I'm not a government officer or a dignitary. I'm Mother. How can you compare me with them?"

(33)

One day Mother told me: "There is a secret key to achieving success or to amassing wealth in life. If anyone followed this very carefully then he would never suffer any want in life. The secret is never to waste anything or never to misuse anything."

Mother also said: "Ganesh is the god of success in work and of wealth. His vehicle is the mouse. What does the mouse do? It picks up anything it finds and stores it in his hole. This capacity of collecting and giving everything its value, this is what helps us to succeed in work and to enrich us. From the mouse we also learn his tireless capacity for work. These are the qualities that make a human being successful."

(34)

One day Mother said: "One who is more enduring will always win. Endurance brings the final victory."

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(35)

On another occasion Mother said: "If you want to know the true nature of a man, give him plenty of money and plenty of power. Within a short time you will know what type of man he is."

(36)

One day, I was talking with Mother about miracles. Mother said that the play of miracles was possible only on the overmental plane and the overmental conscious­ ness. When Mother and Sri Aurobindo were acting on the overmental plane there were lots of different kinds of miracles.

Then they began working beyond the overmental on the supramental plane. There the question of miracles did not arise. There everything is simple, straight, normal and natural. In the working of the supermind everything seems to happen in a natural way. You hear what you need to hear, you meet the person you need to meet, the event that needs to happen takes place.

Mother said that if anyone wanted to see a miracle then the Ashram itself was a miracle. The Ashram has no fixed income and still arrangements for feeding, clothing and accommodating so many persons are carried on so smoothly. Is that not a miracle? You can build a golden temple by collecting a lot of money. But to be able to go on looking after all the needs of so many people in the Ashram, day after day, month after month, year after year, in such a beautiful way and at that standard! If anyone Was looking for a miracle then this itself should convince him. But in truth those who have a questioning mind refuse to believe a miracle even if it takes place under their very noses!

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(39)

In 1950, towards the beginning, a group of scouts came to the Ashram from Calcutta. They were to spend a few days in the Ashram.

The boys were very easygoing, simple, jovial and orderly. Every evening, in the Playground, they would play games with our children and sing scout-songs to them. Everyone was very happy. And Mother too was very pleased with this group and she too enjoyed their games and songs.

Their departure time drew near. They were to leave the following day. And on that day there was Lakshmi­ puja. Mother sent me to them with the message that as it was Lakshmi-puja the next day she wanted them to stay. They could leave the day after with Mother's blessings of Lakshmi-puja.

I conveyed the Mother's request to the group. And they agreed to stay back one more day. After receiving Mother's blessings of Lakshmi-puja they left the next day.

(40)

Let me tell you a story about Mother's sense of fun. It was round 1953-54. We were having our Athletics competitions in the Sports Ground. Mother had come there. Vishu-bhai had come in a multi-coloured track suit. And on top of that the track suit had numerous zips attached to it all over.

Mother laughed a great deal on seeing Vishu-bhai in that track suit. Seeing all those zips she remarked that perhaps if a zip was pulled on one side he would make a strange noise and if another zip was pulled on the other he would make another noise. And she burst into laughter once again.

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(41)

Mother used to take great care of her things of daily use. She never threw her old and torn clothes away. She would get them mended by Swarna-di and use them again. I remember once seeing Mother use a handkerchief that was stitched and mended like that.

Once she gave Swarna-di a dress to mend. It had become extremely worn out so Swarna-di suggested to Mother to discard it. Mother answered: "You're asking me to discard this? Do you know how well it has served me?"

(42)

In 1945, a physical education section was opened in the Ashram with 14 boys. Some time later another section was opened with 10-15 little boys and girls. After some time big girls also wanted to participate and so 32 of them joined a big girls' group. Their uniform was salwar­ kameez.

When the salwar-kameez was found to be inconvenient for doing sports, a new uniform was designed: pyjamas and sleeveless jacket. But that too did not prove very comfortable. And then Mother decided that girls too would wear shorts and half-sleeved shirts.

But girls were likely to feel ill at ease in shorts and shirts. So one day, Mother asked Milli-di to come to the Playground in that uniform. She wanted to make the other girls understand through Milli-di's example. On seeing her they would not feel uneasy wearing shorts and shirts.

Milli-di did exactly as Mother had told her. She came to the Playground wearing white shorts, white shirt, white shoes and socks and a white "kitty-cap". The "kitty-cap" was Mother's own invention and the name too was coined by her. Mother assembled the girls and with Milli-di in

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front she explained how convenient it would be to do sports in this uniform. The girls understood and adopted the uniform.

One day Mother told me that she had noticed that Indian girls did not have beautiful legs. By wearing shorts they would be exposing those legs. As everyone's attention would fall there they would become aware of the need for improving that part of their body and set about doing something. And in this way their legs would become more beautiful!

(43)

Now let me recount to you an amusing story about a mistake Mother once made.

There were a lot of complaints against Keshav-ji of the Dining Room. And this had been going on for quite some time. One day Mother went to visit the Dining 'Room. Among those who came forward to welcome her was Damodar too. All of a sudden Mother began scolding Damodar. We all knew Damodar to be a most gentle-natured and quiet person. What could he have done that had angered Mother so much?

When she got back to the Ashram she said: "I scolded Keshav-ji a lot today. I hope he won't repeat his mistake again."

It was then that the mystery got cleared. Mother had mistaken Damodar for Keshav-ji. One of us told Mother: "You didn't scold Keshav-ji, you scolded Damodar!"

"Oh goodness! I've made a big mistake then," Mother exclaimed and at once sent someone to say she had made a big mistake and that Damodar should not take it to heart.

When later Damodar came for the Mother's blessing, she was extremely affectionate to him.

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(44)

This was in 1948 or 1949.

During this time, after lunch, Mother used to rest a little in her chair. She would rest her feet on a cushion and I used to lay my head on one corner of this cushion to take a short nap.

That day Mother went into a trance. I was sitting quietly. After remaining in her trance for quite some time she came back to the normal consciousness. Then she told me: "You know what I saw? I saw something like a festival, a lot of people had assembled. An elephant was standing in their midst, decorated with flowers, red powder, cloth, etc. You were standing on one side. Then Mother Kali came and asked you to mount the elephant. But you politely refused. So she ordered you a little more firmly but you declined once again. She went on increasing the force of her order but you continued to refuse. Then she kept quiet.

"Kali loves you!"

(45)

It was on another day at the same time of the day.

We were all sitting quietly after lunch. I was looking at Mother's eyes. Then slowly everything melted. I completely forgot where I was, why I was. I was absorbed in a vast peace and Ananda.

I do not know how long I remained in this state, it must have been a long time. When I came back to normal consciousness, I noticed Mother was smiling gently. She said: "You know what happened? You, that is your soul, asked me something and I answered." Saying this she took a piece of paper and wrote down what I had said and her answer. Then she gave the paper to me. This is what was written:

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Iam yours for ever.

I shall lead you to your true action.

26.10.47

(46)

Let me now tell you how once in trying to spring a surprise on Mother I was overcome with embarrassment instead.

It happened in 1953. On my birthday Vidyavrata presented me with a Kodak-Brawny 8mm movie camera. I was thrilled and decided to make my first experiment, a film on the little children of the Ashram. I decided not to let Mother know. When the work was completely over and the film finished, I would show it to her. It would be a surprise and we would have fun.

And so accordingly, I got the scenario ready. It would include the Ashram children's studies, sports, dance, singing, acting, drawing, picnics, prayers and samadhi­pranam, etc. After completing the entire shooting I sat down with my assistant Vishwajit to do the editing. Then I asked Vishwanath-da to select some nice music and he

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chose a wonderful piece from Tchaikovsky. The film was otherwise silent. And so I also introduced some captions at the appropriate places. The film was about 30 minutes long. And I called the film "Children in Sri Aurobindo Ashram".

When everything was ready, I told Mother one evening after dinner: "Mother, I've made a film. I'll show it to you tomorrow evening after you've finished your work in the Playground." Mother was taken aback. She said: "You? You've made a film? Where did you get a camera?" Then I told her everything: "I worked during the last few months to prepare it. I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you." Mother agreed to see the film the following evening after her Playground work.

The next evening I showed the film to Mother. I felt that on the whole, in spite of my clumsy, inexperienced hands, in spite of using a small camera, the result was not too bad.

Mother praised the film very much and encouraged me a lot. But somehow I had the impression that Mother was withholding herself, she had become a little too serious. I could not understand why this was so. What had I done now, I wondered.

However, a few days later I chanced upon a rough draft of a writing by Mother. Only then did I realise what had actually happened. In order to give Mother a surprise I had made the film without letting her know. I had not told her anything, I had not sought her advice. And she felt quite hurt about it. This then, was the reason. I felt terribly embarrassed. And from then I never tried to give Mother any surprises.

Here is what Mother wrote:

This experience followed conclusively the one I had last night whilst seeing Pranab’s film. I felt very strongly that my children were emancipated and they no longer need

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my physical intervention to do their work well. It is enough that my presence among them is an inspiration and guide for them to keep a clear vision of the goal and not to go astray on the way. This leads quite naturally to a physical withdrawal into oneself so as to concentrate materially upon the work of transformation of the body. I can now leave them externally to do things according to their own ideas of execution, reducing my presence to a more or less invisible role of creative inspiration and consciousness.

I noticed Mother was a little indrawn for a few days. But then everything returned to as before. Mother did not withdraw and I heaved a huge sigh of relief.

(47)

There was another incident of almost the same sort.

My body has a tendency of putting on weight. This is why from 1954, once every year for three months I used to go on. a strict diet and did those exercises that would help me reduce my weight. When my body-weight came down to normal I would go back to my usual eating habits. Mother used to encourage me in this.

After having done this regularly for several years, Mother once told me during my dieting period: "There's no doubt that what you're doing is beneficial. But there must be a better way. It isn't necessary to put yourself to so much trouble." As you know, I used to eat with Mother. Even my restricted diet. She could not feed me all the good, delicious things for three months. And she used to feel pretty bad about it.

I said to Mother: "Yes, Mother, what you're saying is true. But only if I was independent. Then I could have made the necessary arrangements to eat only those things

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that are not fattening and my whole life I would have eaten that. Then I would not have had to do this dieting for three months. I would have avoided all this trouble. But I'm not independent and so I can't make arrangements to suit my needs. I eat whatever comes from your kitchen. As a child, I was under my father's guardianship, then under my Kaka's and now I'm under yours. I could not somehow be independent in my life."

I could see Mother was extremely displeased but she just said: "You do not want that somebody should love you?"

A few days later at the Playground, during the red group's class, she suddenly started talking about man's need to be independent and not to depend on the person who loves him. And I felt that she was indirectly pointing

at me.

(48)

In 1962, once while Mother was busy with all kinds of work in her third-floor room, I took many photographs of her in different moods. I used to go to her at 8 in the morning. Mother used to sit on her bed with her legs outstretched and with a back-rest. I would place a low table over her legs that did not touch her in any way. This enabled her to do a lot of reading and writing work on it. Leaving Mother to work like this I too would sit down in a corner and read something.

give something to her and I would take that photo as well. Mother agreed.

At that moment Dyuman-bhai did not have anything with him. So he rushed downstairs and came back with some 100-rupee notes. As Dyuman-bhai was giving those notes to Mother I took a picture. When the shooting was over Mother told Dyuman-bhai: "Mind you, I'm not giving you these notes back!" Dyuman-bhai answered with a laugh: "No, Mother, you needn't return that to me. It's yours." And we all had a good laugh together.

(49)

As I told you earlier, towards the beginning of my Ashram-life, I used to occasionally go on pretty long cy­ cling-trips with some boys and girls on Sundays. Now let me tell you about an incident in which thanks to Mother's Grace and to the courage, intelligence and presence of mind of the children, I was saved from an accident.

Our destination that morning was what we used to call the. "Gingee-bridge". After crossing Vilianur on the way to the lake, there's a path going to the left after the level-crossing along the rail-track. Half a mile further along that path you come to a beautiful bridge. The path was good enough to cycle on. The bridge is over the Gingee river. There is no place to walk on either side of the track.

We went over the Gingee bridge. There were about 10-15 children with us. We let them walk around and play. Tejen-da also was with us that day. Tejen-da and I went down from the bridge to the river bank. One of the children went onto one of the girders of the bridge to have a bird's eye view. The other children were walking over the railway sleepers on the bridge in order to go over to the other side. There was a wonderful silence all

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round and the thought of an accident was farthest from our minds.

Suddenly we heard a loud whistle and a train appeared. It was soon on the bridge. The children had not got to the other side yet. They were somewhere at the mid-point. It was impossible to warn the children from so far below by shouting. Neither was there any possibility of stopping the train from there. Everything happened so suddenly. I began dreading the worst. There was nothing left for me to do except call for Mother's help.

I kept looking upward in fear. The boy who had climbed onto the girder was sitting on it like a monkey. The train went right under him emitting smoke from the engine. I was just hoping the boy's grip would not loosen out of fear and he fall on the passing train. As the other children were on the bridge, I could not see them. Tejen­ da and I rushed to get on top of the bridge. We had barely stepped onto the bridge that the last coach too entered the bridge. Once the train had crossed the boy who was sitting atop the girder like a monkey came down laughing. In a short time the train crossed the bridge and we were extremely glad and relieved to see our children walking over the railway sleepers towards us talking and laughing and jumping. And we all were delivered from that dreadful fear.

When I asked the children, they said that each one of them had run to a girder on hearing the train come and they clung to it very tight, keeping themselves as far from the railway-track as possible. The train almost grazed past them. What an experience that was!

We returned with a song of gratitude to Mother on our lips. I recounted the incident to Mother and she heard it quietly.

After this, whenever a group wanted to go to Ginge bridge, I would warn them about the train.

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(50)

Quite some time back Vishwanath-da, who used to work with us, came to the office one day and said: "I heard an interesting thing today. Unlike our Bengali or English poetry where the rhyme comes at the end of the line, in Tamil poetry, the rhyme comes at the beginning."

"Could you write such a poem in Bengali?" he asked me.

I felt the task should not be so difficult so I accepted the challenge. Two days later I composed a doggerel in Tamil style. He was very happy. Perhaps the readers may want to enjoy the fun:

Aaj ami khabo na,

Kaj jodi thakey.

Makey boley dio na,

Pakey podey jabo.

Kajey jabo shaukaley,

Majhey chhuti nai.

Tai kheley shanjhey tey,

Nai kono dosh.

Kaurey kaj maujatey,

Bhorey thaki ami.

Kajey dosh dio na,

Lajey morey jabo.

Koro jodi chalaki,

Phor phor korey.

Chanti debo mathatey,

Khanti kautha bolL

(51)

(52)

One day Mother told me: ''I'm not saying that I'll leave my body. But if some day I do then I shall diffuse myself with you."

(53)

Mother used to enjoy eating plain bread and butter the most. She also liked lychee-juice very much. She did not like milk or mangoes. She could not bear the smell of jack-fruit or guavas. What she liked very much was: common fruits, vegetables, greens, vegetable soup, mushrooms.

(54)

When Mother went with her husband to Japan she met Rabindranath there. She said about Rabindranath that he was "a man of high culture and very refined taste."

Rabindranath wanted Mother to go with him to Shantiniketan in order to take up his work. But Mother knew that her work was at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. That is why she did not go to Shantiniketan.

She once recounted that she sat for meditation with Rabindranath. They were both meditating. Mother kept rising and Rabindranath also rose with her. They had both risen quite high. Then Rabindranath decided to settle there and did not wish to go any higher.

Once Mother sat down to eat with her husband and Rabindranath. Rabindranath was served some little fried birds and he was eating them with great relish. Mother and her husband were vegetarians and so they did not take the fried birds.

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