Moments Eternal

Learning French from the Mother

I had the privilege of being in class with the Mother all by myself. You cannot imagine my nervousness during these classes. At that time I did not know much French nor did I have any practice of it. I just did not feel like opening my mouth because I felt it would be greatly embarrassing. But with a gentle smile the Mother would go on talking in French. She, however, succeeded in planting the seed of selfconfidence in the mind of a novice. Everyday She would offer me the flower called Calm and modest self-confidence. In the beginning I couldn’t bring myself to speak in French but then slowly and most surprisingly that fear completely left me.

She would open the book and say: “Today we shall read this page.”

And She herself read it out. If She had difficulty in seeing a word She would tell me, indicating with Her finger, to get the magnifying glass from the cupboard:

“Look there.”

My mind would go completely blank and I would shrivel up with fear. I would open the cupboard but I just couldn’t find the magnifying glass!

The Mother would keep repeating: “There it is, there!”

And finally I did manage to find it.

I used to break out in a sweat. After the Mother’s reading, it was my turn! I would read on. If I raised my eyes to look at the Mother I would see Her in deep meditation, Her body totally immobile and Her hands placed together on Her lap. A profound stillness had enveloped and taken Her very far away. She would be sitting there, bent slightly forward. And just a few moments earlier She had been directing me to find the magnifying glass in the cupboard while reading out the text in French!

The door near Her chair, to the south, was kept open. That chair is still kept in the same place. When you go up to the Mother’s room on the second floor you go past this chair just before getting to the staircase. After bowing to Her in Her room we once again bow to Her by bowing to this chair. How long this chair has stood there carrying the blissful memories of the past! Let us come back to my class.

I would sit there and keep looking at the Mother silently. One of the Service tree branches stretched out onto the terrace. There was a festival of golden yellow flowers on it and the flowers kept falling on the terrace one after another, moved by the wind: clusters of flowers swaying gently and eyeing the Mother in that silence-wrapped form—as if greeting Her with “Bonjour, Douce Mère!” (Good Morning, Sweet Mother!)

Sitting there at the Mother’s Feet my eyes would fill with that solitary form of the Mother absorbed in meditation and my heart spilled over with pure bliss. A marvellous thrill coursed through my mind and body. Those enchanting days haven’t left me even today.

One day during the class the Mother asked me rather unexpectedly:

“Can you cook?”

I was quite flustered by Her question! And I’ll tell you why.

I was then thirteen or fourteen. One day my mother was to go somewhere in the evening so she called me and said:

“You’ll cook today. I have to go out on some important work.”

I was thrilled and got down to cooking. Alur dam! But I put too much water! It would take a long time for the vegetable to be ready. So what could I do while waiting? I decided to make use of that time to revise my lesson for the following day. Time just flew! Suddenly a smell of something burning wafted into my nostrils! I rushed to the kitchen only to find that everything had turned black. Just a few potatoes on top were looking at me as if laughing teasingly. The memory of that burnt vegetable flashed in my mind on hearing the Mother’s question. I nodded heavily:

“No, I cannot cook.”

The Mother remained silent for a while. Then She said: “If you can get me some eggs I can make you thirty different kinds of dishes with them.”

I was stunned! The Mother could also cook! And so many recipes as well! I was truly astonished and even more taken aback when She said:

“It was while cooking that I would study and write and prepare my work and reflect on important matters. Paroles d’autrefois was mostly written while I was cooking.”

I was flabbergasted. How can cooking and deep thinking happen at the same time? But for the Mother no work was big or small. She could be absorbed in deep thought even while cooking. Whereas we have difficulty in shifting our concentration from one work to the next! But with the Mother everything is possible.

On another occasion She asked me: “Can you sing?”

The sky seemed to fall on my head! Was I supposed to sing now? I remembered my childhood again. We two sisters used to often talk about singing. Our mother was very keen on our taking up music. A singing teacher was engaged who came every evening. He was more of a sadhak. A tulsi-garland around his neck, an ochre panjabi on his body. He taught us only devotional songs. One of these songs began with: Koruna tor jaani maago, aashbey shubhodin. (I know your Compassion well, Mother. Auspicious days will surely come.) He used to sing this song over and over again. And even as he sang tears would flow down his cheeks. He asked me very often to sing this song. And I enjoyed singing it. Dada often teased us:

“What kind of songs are you learning! Listen to all the songs that I have learnt.”

And he would sing to us beautiful modern songs.

When the Mother asked me about singing I thought I would sing Koruna tor jaani maago, aashbey shubhodin. But then I began to feel shy. Moreover I did not have a very musical voice. My sister Tapati had an extremely sweet voice. Dada had a marvellous singing voice. My sister was part of Dilip Kumar Roy’s singing troupe. The Mother would often listen to their singing at the Playground. One day the Mother told Tapati:

“You have a lovely voice, indeed.”

She had been able to recognise her voice from the whole group. In any case, to come back to the story, I told the Mother:

“No, I cannot sing.”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. Suddenly the Mother began humming and then singing quite clearly. What an amazingly melodious voice She had! I had never imagined that someone could look so beautiful while singing. In rapt enchantment I went on gazing at the Mother. My inner being was filled with an unearthly experience…

This class with the Mother started in a strange way. The Mother had asked four or five of us to go to a lady for our French classes. We used to go to her in the evenings. One day because of a severe headache I could not go to this class even though I had revised my lesson. The lady would not believe that the headache was the real reason. She felt I had not done my homework.

“You’re lying,” she reproached me.

That was it! That night I could not sleep because I was upset. The following morning when I went to see the Mother, She at once looked at me and asked:

“What’s the matter?”

I started weeping! Then I told the Mother everything. The Mother replied:

“Is that all? Then from today I shall teach you.”

And this is how my class with Her started. An apparently insignificant incident in my life brought along a golden opportunity for me to be close to the Mother all alone.

After the first lessons were over, the Mother started reading out from Belles Histoires to me. When She was reading the story called ‘Patience et Persévérance’ I noticed that some lines from a Punjabi song were written at the beginning. I really wanted to learn the pronunciation of these Punjabi lyrics. What did the Mother do to satisfy my curiosity? She called Lakshmibai and asked her to read out the Punjabi song. Lakshmibai read out the song:

Sada na bageen bulbul boley

Sada na baag baharaan.

Sada na raaz khushi dey hondey

Sada na majlis yaaraan.

(Forever the bulbul sings not in the garden. Forever Spring blooms not midst flowers. Forever gladness stirs not in the kingdom Forever friends adorn not an assembly.)

It was the same Lakshmibai with whose dog I had had an amusing experience. I had always been terrified of dogs and so when I settled here for good and was walking on the street I would run onto the footpath every time I passed a dog. Dogs too would start growling for no reason the moment they caught sight of me. Probably they sensed my vibration of fear. A few days after my coming here I became very friendly with Pratima who had also just become a permanent member of the Ashram. We were of the same age and both of us worked in Sahana-di’s tailoring department. Pratima also shared my fear of dogs. And so we were always together, going to the Dining Room for our three meals or going to the seafront for a walk. One evening we had just come out when from the nearby mill two huge alsatians ran out. (This house was later bought by the Ashram. Dr. Sanyal-da used to live there. Today it is the building that houses the homoeopathy clinic, an allopathy section as well as the School for Perfect Eyesight for some time.) We bolted as soon as we saw these tiger-sized dogs. But how could we compete with the dogs? Pratima stumbled on the road while I managed to climb onto the footpath. The doorman of the house came running hearing our cries and reined in the dogs.

And then there was Goldy who manifested in the life of these brave heroines! Good heavens! There were dogs even on the way to the Mother! I was in a real fix!

When the Mother offered us flower-blessings at ten in the morning at the head of the stairs leading to the first floor, near the small room, Lakshmibai used to come with a huge tray on her head. This tray was full of all kinds of lovely roses. She had her own rose-garden in her house. She would come up the staircase, go past the Mother and go to the Mother’s inner room. And accompanying her would be this famous Goldy whom the Mother loved very much. In fact it was the Mother who had named him Goldy. It was indeed a most beautiful dog. His body was covered with shiny golden fur and that was probably why the Mother had named him so. Lakshmibai used to take a lot of care of her dog. Everyday Goldy would go straight to the Mother without bothering about anybody and lift his front paws and hug the Mother. The Mother showered a lot of affection on Goldy and talked to him. Looking at Goldy one would imagine he understood everything. He was delighted to show his love for the Mother. Then he would go to Sri Aurobindo’s room and get His darshan as well! I am told that Sri Aurobindo would gently stroke his head for a while.

I am sure you all know that Sri Aurobindo had a dog. This was certainly long before the Mother arrived in Pondicherry. And who does not know about the Mother’s cats? One of Her cats would come everyday during the meditation and sit in a chair to meditate with all of us, sometimes even go into trance! Only when the Mother made a certain kind of noise would the cat come out of her trance. We were told later that this cat had been reborn as a human being! Certainly Goldy must have been reborn as a human too!

However I was terrified of this Goldy. I would go to the Mother fearlessly only when Goldy had gone away. I don’t know what happened one day. It was half past ten and thinking that Goldy must have certainly seen the Mother and gone home I headed for the Mother’s darshan. Hardly had I lowered my head after greeting Her with “Bonjour, Douce Mère” than I felt Goldy on my back! God knows from where he had materialised like a storm. I screamed, terrified! I jumped up and went behind the Mother and grabbed Her very tight. I was trembling and screaming at the same time! The Mother was unable to release Herself from my grip. Finally She brought me in front of Her by force. And what a scolding She gave me! A lot of people were waiting behind me. I was in a pitiable state then.

“You are terrified of a simple little dog! How will you ever do the sadhana? Remember that this path of sadhana is not easy. You will have to face all kinds of dangers and difficulties. It is a most arduous, most dangerous path. You need tremendous courage to walk on it.”

As soon as I heard this from the Mother I remembered something Nolini-da had told me. I used to go to see Nolinida every evening and open my heart out to him. After my parents’ departure it was Nolini-da who looked after me. I would even get my letters from him without having to go to the Post Office. One evening I went to Nolini-da as usual. After talking to me about all sorts of things, he said:

“Priti, this path of sadhana that you have chosen looks very simple but the moment you touch it you get such a shock!”

I kept looking at Nolini-da’s face in awe. I was nonplussed. It all sounded like a riddle to me. I had barely arrived and did not know anything about sadhana. As I could not live in Feni without the Mother, I had come away.

That day I came to know even more clearly from the Mother Herself how difficult this path was. How strewn with dangers! One needed to be vigilant at every moment.

Durgam giri, kantar maru, dustar parabar Langhite hobey ratri-nishithey, jatrira hushiyaar.

(Mountains impassable, deserts and dense forests, shoreless oceans— These must be crossed at the dead of the night. Be alert, O travellers!)

After accepting the flower-blessings from the Mother I came down. Everyone on the staircase was laughing. After this incident my fear of dogs was considerably reduced. I would still start calling out the Mother’s name every time I saw a dog from afar. I became frightened of fear itself.

And so in this way accepting the challenge right from the beginning and declaring war, I began walking on the path of progress.

One day while the Mother was teaching me I noticed that She was smiling. After a few moments of laughter, She told me:

“There was a person who had advanced a lot on this path of sadhana. I was describing to him the supramental beings, how they would be and what kind of life they would lead. When I told him once that supramental beings would not require food, they would be freed from the necessity of eating. He then had a vision of wonderful delicacies before him.

“‘Oh, no,’ he moaned, ‘I won’t be able to enjoy all these mouth-licking dishes!’

“He was overcome with gloom!”

And saying this the Mother burst out laughing!

This man lost such an incredible opportunity just for the petty pleasure of food! And so all of us, we keep losing the real aim of life because we get caught in some petty pleasure or the other.

The Mother is feeding us food that She has cooked but we refuse to take it. In a prayer from Prayers and Meditations the Mother says:

Since the man refused the meal I had prepared with so much love and care, I invoked the God to take it.

Nolini-da has written:

What food had the Mother prepared that man refused to accept? It was nothing other than a divine life here on the bosom of the earth prepared with supreme love and divine ananda by this Light and this Power beyond, something that only gods can enjoy.

To attain this divine life in our present state is still a distant reality for us. To convert this goal into a realisation is still beyond our reach.

Nolini-da says:

Man rejected it because for him this was too high and too great. He is an earth-bound creature and his confines are narrow. He can acquire only that, enjoy only that which is ordinary and petty, or just an atom of this gross earth....

The Mother asks mankind a simple question: “Are you ready?”

But we continue to live in the same darkness. Our arrogance, our revolt continues to strangle us. Who amongst us has escaped the grip of hurling criticisms against the Mother’s work. And besides, how full of ego we are. We humans have squandered this unsolicited Compassion of the Mother. We have been tarnished with our unrepentant nature. We have still not become worthy children of the Mother. That is why I say that we have squandered our inherited wealth.