Moments Eternal

Our Father

Eleventh July, 1994 marks the centenary of our father, Narendranath Das Gupta. It is for this occasion that I have got down to writing these reminiscences. How many memories come to my mind!

Father was a distinguished worker in the revolutionary movement of that time even though his name never appeared in public. Sri Aurobindo was his guru on the path of sadhana. Bagha Jatin (Jatindranath Mukherjee) was his guide and mentor in the field of action. Studies, revolutionary work and sadhana all went hand in hand.

On Bagha Jatin’s instructions a group of young students stole a considerable amount of money from a vehicle. The Police launched a search to catch them. All that money was kept with father. As soon as the Police started on his trail he ran into his college hostel. Bagha Jatin had strictly instructed everybody that no one was to go straight back to his house after the mission. Father stayed for some time in a fellow-student’s room and then returned to his own room. He stashed all the money under his bed and acted as if nothing had happened.

However the Police were not ready to give up. They encircled the hostel. The hostel Superintendent then was an Irish man. The Police went to him to ask for permission to search the hostel. The Superintendent was furious.

“These boys are like my sons. These are my boys.”

After a lot of arguing when the Police expressed their desire to search the room father had first entered, the Superintendent acceded to their request. The reason was that father did not stay in that room. The Irish man knew about father’s involvement with the revolutionaries. And, moreover, he was very fond of him. In any case, the Police searched the room and found nothing. Good God! Had the Police discovered all the money under his bed…! “Who can touch whom Krishna protects?”

In the evening the hostel Superintendent called for father and said:

“Come Naren, let us go out for a while.”

He took him in his car to the Ganga. While they were walking along its bank, he remarked:

“I’m Irish and so I can fully understand the hatred and anger you feel towards the English. But what can you, a handful of young people, with a few pistols, hope to achieve against the might of this huge British Empire? You’d better become a deputy magistrate instead. The Governor of Bengal would be only too happy to accept you if I put in a word.”

But father was upset. He continued his studies along with the revolutionary work. He was awarded the Gold Medal twice for his M.A. examination. It needs to be mentioned that when Bagha Jatin decided to leave for Balasore with his group of young boys for some revolutionary work, father’s name was on that list. I am told that at the last moment Bagha Jatin told Meghnad Saha and father:

“I also need brilliant students. You will wake this country with the light of knowledge.”

And in this way on two occasions Sri Aurobindo saved father from the jaws of death.

After completing his university studies, father was offered the post of magistrate but he refused to take up any work allotted by foreign rulers. He was also offered the post of professor at Rangoon University. That too he rejected although the salary for that job was for those times a very handsome

1,700 rupees per month.

Finally, father and a few of Sri Aurobindo’s disciples came together and decided to set up the independent Arya Publishing House. The Life Divine was first published by this publishing house. Father was asked to write a review of The Life Divine. The review was sent to Sri Aurobindo for His opinion. Sri Aurobindo asked:

“Who has written this review?”

On hearing father’s name, Naren, Sri Aurobindo could not quite place him. Then suddenly He remembered him and enthusiastically exclaimed with joy:

“Oh! Naren! He is as firm as a rock.”

Let me tell you about another incident in this context. I had at that time settled here for good. I bought two copies of Sri Aurobindo’s Collected Poems and took them to Purani-ji. Very hesitatingly, I told him:

“If I could get Sri Aurobindo’s signature on these I would be so very grateful.”

Purani-ji replied:

“Why, certainly Sri Aurobindo will sign them. Why are you so doubtful?”

He took the two books the following day to Sri Aurobindo. In the evening when I went to get the books, Purani-ji, laughing as he handed me the books, said:

“See, open and see!”

On seeing my name written in Sri Aurobindo’s hand I was overjoyed. Sri Aurobindo had asked Purani-ji:

“Who is she? Whose daughter is she?” “Naren’s daughter,” Purani-ji replied.

Sri Aurobindo remained silent for a while then happily exclaimed:

“Oh! Naren’s daughter, that old Naren!” Purani-ji patted me on my back gleefully.

Purani-ji and father were very close friends. Needless to say I was delighted that Purani-ji had introduced me to Sri Aurobindo as ‘Naren’s daughter’.

Father and his other associates started a ghee-business (ghee being clarified butter). Both the activities went on together. The profits from the ghee-business were used partially for the basic maintenance of the partners and the rest was sent to Sri Aurobindo. The men were truly consecrated workers. They never worried about themselves. One day on opening a canister of ghee they found a snake-skin inside. At once Sri Aurobindo was informed. He sent them a telegram with the direction: Stop it. I will have nothing to do with it anymore. And so the ghee-business was discontinued from that very day.

In 1925 father came to Pondicherry for the first time. All his relatives and family had one fear in their minds: He was not going to return. He would join the Ashram.

Sri Aurobindo asked father to return after a few days’ stay. He asked Sri Aurobindo:

“On my return what should I do to earn my living?”

Sri Aurobindo did not say anything for some time then

He answered:

“Why not take some job in a mufossil college?” Just before leaving, father asked Sri Aurobindo: “Can I offer my pranam to the Mother?”

Sri Aurobindo looked at father, a little perplexed for a while, then exclaimed:

“Oh! You mean Mirra? Wait, I’ll go inside and inform

Her.”

After some time the Mother came out of Her room. She was wearing a very ordinary sari. Father bowed down to the Mother and with Her blessing he returned to his family. For many years after that father could not visit the Ashram. One day, on his return, while reading the newspaper his eyes fell on an advertisement. A professor was needed in a college at Feni to teach philosophy. Immediately father sent in an application to Feni College for the post. Feni College was delighted to have someone as qualified as father and immediately appointed him to the post.

A new life started for father. He maintained his family on an ordinary salary of 150 rupees a month. His guru, Sri Aurobindo, had never given much importance to money. To Him, ideals in life were the most important. Of His own accord He had given up the opportunity of joining the ICS. Embracing that same ideal whole-heartedly he took up the life of a college professor in a mufossil college. However, during the Second World War, when the Japanese bombed Chittagong, this college closed down and father was forced to move to Calcutta. Many opportunities of important jobs came his way. But he was a dedicated devotee and disciple of Sri Aurobindo and following His advice he had stayed on in a mufossil college.

Why not take some job in a mufossil college? These words of Sri Aurobindo kept father in Feni College and nothing could move him from there. From this ordinary salary father used to send an offering to Sri Aurobindo every month and send some money to his two younger brothers to help them finish their studies. Whatever money remained was used for his wife and children’s upkeep.

Our mother (Bibhavati) could stoically bear all worldly difficulties. No pain or sorrow ever touched her. Her father (Hemkumar Niyogi) was a District Judge then. Even though mother grew up in a well-to-do milieu, she, like my father, had turned towards the vision of Sri Aurobindo. She would, in fact, always encourage father to pursue this ideal.

During the revolutionary days father always carried a pistol. Whenever he would go out for some work he would leave his pistol with mother confident that it would be safe. Mother would tuck the pistol under her blouse and calmly go on with her household activities. At night father used to teach her how to shoot.

Our grandfather (Rasikchandra Das Gupta) was a very pious man. He never obstructed father in anything he did. Knowing that father was a wayfarer on Sri Aurobindo’s path of sadhana he never asked him any questions about this. However, grandmother could never accept father’s giving up good jobs and would blame Sri Aurobindo for it. Her dream was to see her son posted in an eminent job. Grandmother could then run the house with so much more respect and dignity. Which mother would not wish this for her son?

Father was a straightforward sincere man and often at college he would get into debates and arguments with the teachers, especially the junior teachers. Father could not tolerate any criticism of Sri Aurobindo and he would counter it very strongly. Once, a Muslim S.D.O. in Feni made some derogatory remarks about Sri Aurobindo. Father stood up thumping the table vigorously and opposed him with great verve. Father was quite aware what taking on an S.D.O. in this way meant but he could not budge an inch from his ideal or conviction.

Once, a senior professor wrote to Sri Aurobindo telling Him about father’s conduct in this regard. Sri Aurobindo wrote back:

Whatever he is doing and whatever he is saying, it is all right. I am always behind him.

The Second World War was assuming fearful proportions as time went by. We could not even dream of supporting the Allies. Sri Aurobindo, who had started the revolution against the British and always striven for the liberation of India, announced that the Allies needed to be helped in every possible way. Everyone was dumbstruck. The political leaders did not concur with Him at all. During the college recess we could hear from our classroom the tremendous debate going on in the teachers’ room. Father was on one side and the junior professors on the other and they were hotly debating. The latter would not agree with Sri Aurobindo’s announcement. Hitler was their hero. The world had not yet seen the real nature of the Axis Powers. Every day father would try valiantly to make these junior professors understand Sri Aurobindo’s political vision and wisdom. In the meantime the Japanese began bombing Chittagong and Cox Bazaar. At once Feni turned into a deserted town. Our life took a different turn. One by one all the families left Feni.

Every professor or gentleman, while leaving Feni, requested father to send at least his children and their mother to some safe place. After hearing this request from so many people, father became a little worried. He wrote to Sri Aurobindo to get His opinion. Sri Aurobindo answered:

Stay there with the family. Don’t run away.

Nolini-da also wrote something:

Fear will follow you wherever you go.

Father was reassured. He had an iron nerve, infinite courage and extreme reso-luteness. Every evening our parents used to meditate with the children. It was marvellous to focus on Sri Aurobindo and the Mother’s ideal in that uninhabited, tranquil atmosphere. At that time in the town of Feni, only our family had stayed back. What an astonishing act of courage that was on father’s part, really! Mother would calmly go on with her household activities, untouched by the slightest worry. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother were around us, that was our certitude.

In a few days the British soldiers occupied the school and college and every room in the hostel was taken. Our house was very close to the college. We were the only ones living there and there were no neighbours around. At evenfall a strange feeling would overtake us. The whole day was spent in silence and with great caution.

Father believed in safe bind safe find. And so with great effort he dug a large trench next to the courtyard, large enough to fit us all in. As soon as father would blow the conch everyone was supposed to rush into the trench from wherever we were. We rehearsed this for several days. I can still picture father standing erect and blowing that big conch. The sound of that conch would infuse courage into us. However, in the end, the Japanese did not bomb Feni, and we firmly believed that it was the Mother and Sri Aurobindo’s unlimited Grace that had protected Feni.

For many years father could not go to Pondicherry. With a heart longing for Sri Aurobindo, every night father loudly called out to Him. Hearing him give that longing call I used to feel that father was undergoing a lot of pain. But for whom? My heart would be overwhelmed. One day I asked mother:

“Ma, why is father so sad? Who does he call with so much longing?”

“Your father is calling his Guru, Sri Aurobindo. Don’t worry about him.”

As a result, naturally my curiosity to know Sri Aurobindo slowly increased as I grew up. When father used to go away to work I would slip into his ‘puja-room’ and look with deep love and devotion at Sri Aurobindo’s and the Mother’s pictures on father’s table. The photo was the one where she is wearing a gown. Two pieces of cloth always used to cover the photos. At that time followers of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother used to do everything in secret and so in our house too nobody was allowed to enter father’s ‘puja-room’.

When father came to Pondicherry in 1941, Tapati and I came with him. Our photos had been sent to the Mother on Nolini-da’s instructions. During that time anybody wishing to come to the Ashram had to send a photo to the Mother. The Mother used to look at the picture and then give Her permission for the person to come. And so both of us were greatly worried for several days about whether we would pass this test. But then finally Nolini-da’s letter arrived: the Mother had allowed us to come to the Ashram after seeing our photos. It would be difficult to translate the inexpressible joy that we experienced on receiving this news.

On the very day of our arrival we were fortunate to go and see the Mother in the evening. Nolini-da had been waiting for us at the entrance of his room. Father was a very dear friend of his. We had hardly bowed down to him that he gave us some flowers saying:

“Offer these to the Mother.”

With our father we went up to the Mother’s room. Roni-kaka (Ranjit Sen), Suniti-kakima and Chhoto-mama (Himangshu Niyogi) were also with us.

As soon as we reached the top of the stairs we saw that the Mother was standing in front of the door and blessing each one with flowers. So splendid She looked! It was impossible to take my eyes off Her. Hardly did I find myself in Her presence than I felt it was Mother Durga standing in front of me. A crown adorning Her head, there were anklets on Her feet. Everything was filled and aglow with a golden light. A beautiful sari enveloped Her body. A golden Light radiated from Her eyes. Her touch brought about a huge change in me....

I did not feel the slightest urge to go back to Feni. However, it seemed that finishing college was a good idea. If for some reason I could not stay here then at least I would have something to help me stand on my own feet.

I returned to Feni. Time stood still.… All my friends were taken aback to see me unhappy and worried.

“What’s wrong with you?” they kept asking. “I am kind of missing the Mother,” I said.

They could not believe their ears! How could I explain it to them? And in this way, the days plodded on. And then it was time for the B.A. examination. I wrote to Nolini-da to let him know: “I would like to come to the Ashram for good as soon as my examination is over. Please arrange that I get the Mother’s permission.”

Nolini-da replied: “First finish your studies, then we’ll see.”

We all came back with father in 1944 for the April Darshan. I noticed that Nolini-da did not mention anything about my staying here. What was I to do? One day when I went to the Mother, She greeted me very tenderly with a “Bonjour”. Hearing that tender “Bonjour” from the Mother a huge turmoil rocked my being. I felt that I could not stay anywhere else without the Mother. And I blurted out:

“Mother! I want to stay here with You.”

At once I wondered if I had said the right thing and not made a mistake. In fact, at school or college we never used to speak in English. It was difficult to forget that the British had fettered us. And so we studied English only when it was absolutely unavoidable.

No sooner had the Mother heard my prayer that She pulled me behind Her with both Her hands. “Come in,” She said, just as my father got into the room. I was terrified. I had not taken my parents’ permission to decide about staying here. It was therefore natural for me to be scared.

The Mother told my father:

“I am keeping Priti here with me.”

Father looked at the Mother, quite stupefied.

“But, Mother, Bibhavati [Priti’s mother] will be saddened.”

The Mother took father’s hands in Hers and told him with exceeding tenderness:

“Next year you will all come here for good.”

Father’s eyes filled with tears of joy. In deep gratitude he kissed the Mother’s hands. Finally father’s deepest wish was fulfilled. The Mother had herself made the arrangements for our stay here. I often remember that day.

Whenever I told my father, “Why is it that we never get any experiences? Sahana-di speaks of so many of her experiences.”

Father would reply:

“During our times we all used to have all kinds of experiences. We have all gone through all kinds of beautiful experiences. This was not because of anybody’s merit. At that time Sri Aurobindo and the Mother were working on a higher plane. It was easy to meditate. The Mother used to get even the gods down in our midst. Now the Mother and Sri Aurobindo are working with the lower nature. Now everyone has to go through the various problems of the lower nature. If one can open to Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, They will solve our problems with the lower nature for us. This path of sadhana is most interesting, even though it is hard. The Mother has stretched out Her hand to help us.”

Father used to explain to me so many things in this way towards the end of his life. One day I asked father:

“Father, why do so many people here suffer because of depression?”

Father said:

“Beware! Depression is a terrible trap of the asuric power. From time to time it takes you away from the Mother and Sri Aurobindo’s protection. At first the being is overwhelmed with ordinary despair. Then slowly all kinds of bad suggestions start invading the sadhak’s mind. You have to be very careful. Let me tell you of an experience of mine. I was once meditating. I felt a little uneasy, as if from somewhere an asuric force was trying to swallow me up. I began meditating more consciously. I noticed a black, ugly shape standing behind me. His eyes were sharply fixed on me. But I did not feel frightened and was absorbed in deep meditation. Thanks to Sri Aurobindo and the Mother’s infinite Grace I realised that this being was the devil of depression. You need to be most careful. Be most conscious right from the beginning. Never let depression approach you, even a little.”

Father had given such a vivid description of this devil of depression that it was impossible to let myself slip into despair or gloom.

I would always feel that this asura was going to grab me. This was in April 1945. Father brought mother, my brothers and sisters to the Ashram for good. The Mother Herself enrolled Arati and Manoj in the school. The Mother had already told Manoj:

“I am going to open a school. You will come and study here.”

Father was given work as the head of the publishing department. Then he was given work as the head of our Ashram press. When the Sri Aurobindo International University Centre (now Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education) was established, the Mother made my father professor of philosophy. Father continued to teach even while managing the Ashram press. At night he would attentively go through the final proofs. After finishing the general marching and receiving groundnuts or sweets from the Mother, he would slowly walk down the sea front to the press. And he would get deeply absorbed in all kinds of work. How much he worked all on his own! The press would be totally deserted by then.

Father had offered himself completely to the Mother’s work. The Mother and Sri Aurobindo’s work was part of father’s sadhana.

So much so that even on the day our mother left her body father did not skip his work at the press. He took his bag and slowly, quietly went down the steps.

Our mother left her body on 12th October 1953. About one year later, on 21st December 1954 our elder brother, Saroj, passed away.

What an incredible happening! Dada (Saroj) was to go to Calcutta. He was very eager to get the Mother’s blessings but unfortunately the Mother was not seeing anyone on that day. Dada was obstinate. On entering the playground upon my return from the tennis-ground, I noticed that Dada was standing against a wall, waiting for the Mother. I said:

“Dada, the Mother will not see anyone today.”

Dada kept standing. The Mother then came out of Her room to go to the interview-room. The Mother went straight to Dada. I was quite scared thinking that the Mother was certainly going to scold Dada. But what happened was just the opposite. Very affectionately the Mother asked Dada:

“Are you leaving today?”

Dada was thrilled and answered enthusiastically:

“Yes, Mother I’m leaving today. I want you to bless me.” “When will you come back?” the Mother asked.

Dada said:

“I will return before the November Darshan.”

I was greatly astonished to see and hear the Mother being so loving and caring.

“You know, Mother, Priti thinks that you love only her.”

I felt deeply embarrassed. The Mother looked at us and smiled. These little fights between brother and sister are common. The Mother turned to Dada and said:

“Au revoir, mon enfant.”

Dada caught typhoid on arriving in Calcutta. Every day he sent a letter. He urged father to come to Calcutta. Slowly Dada became so weak that it became impossible to read his handwriting. Towards the end we received postcards filled with shaky lines. Many of our relatives and close friends wrote to father urging him to come to Calcutta. Dada was in a very critical condition. Every day a telegram would arrive informing us of his state. I would go and give it to Nolini-da for him to read it out to the Mother. The Mother would listen and remain silent. I just could not figure out what exactly was going on. The Mother forbade father to go to Calcutta. All the relatives and close friends were extremely upset with him. The Mother asked that Dada be brought back to Pondicherry in that very condition. Everyone was perplexed. In any case, the eldest son of our youngest aunt, Keta-da, sejo-mashima and mejo-mashima most courageously covered that long distance and brought Dada back to Pondicherry. Dada could not stay a moment without Keta-da. From their very childhood the two had developed a deep friendship. Talking of friendship Satyavrata (Dr. Sen) too comes to mind. After Keta-da went back to Calcutta it was Satyavrata who used to give Dada a sponge bath, feed him while telling him all sorts of stories and keep his mind distracted. And he went on doing this happily day after day. Dada flatly refused to go to the Mother even after much persuasion. The Mother would listen to all this and remain silent. I did not understand anything at all.

Dada would lie on his bed and listen to songs all day. He himself used to sing very well. What a marvellous voice he had! He had come back from Calcutta with a lot of records. One of these records was his favourite. I remember a couple of lines from a song:

My worldly play now its end has reached,

My boat I shall row out to the other shore,

And change into new clothes discarding the old.

I guess Dada must have felt that it was now time for him to leave. He would become strangely silent while listening to this song. For father and us a great ordeal began. The Mother used to send some juhi flowers for Dada every evening. As soon as Manoj had handed these flowers to him, Dada would pull his emaciated weak body up and leaning against the wall sit and start weaving a garland for the Mother. And Manoj would take this garland to give to the Mother. Father would silently bear all his suffering. Sri Aurobindo’s remark, “He is as firm as a rock” was confirmed in his everyday conduct. That gentle, affectionate human being had become hard like stone. Very solemn. As if he had had a presentiment of something.

The day Dada left his body, father was taking his philosophy class at school. On getting the news from Tapati, very quietly he walked back home, as if nothing had happened. Leaning against the wall and sitting in the lotus position, Dada held his hands together in salutation. Like a great yogi. How amazing, really! This is how he breathed his last. Father came and embraced Dada close to his chest. Then a little later he very carefully stretched him out on his bed and covered his legs with a chaddar. He sat still on a chair for the whole day staring at Dada’s face. As firm as a rock, without the hint of a tear in his eyes.

The Mother told me later:

“I forbade your father to go to Calcutta for some reason. You surely remember the day Saroj was to leave for Calcutta I saw him standing and waiting for me as I was going to the interview-room. I went straight to him. Because Saroj’s soul came out to me and said: ‘Mother, this is our last meeting. I shall not see you again in this mortal body.’ And I blessed Saroj.”

Memories of that day come back to me. The ground was empty. Pranab was busy with the children’s group. The Mother kept talking with Dada. I was the only one standing a little further away.

The Mother said:

“Saroj’s soul was very developed. In comparison, his body was extremely weak. He was so incredibly mature within that he considered everything in this outer world as trivial. He would make light of everything. He took this world lightly. His soul needed just a few years of experience. As soon that experience was over his soul took leave.”

After listening to the Mother I finally understood why Dada did not wish to go to see the Mother despite repeated attempts at persuasion. He would just repeat: “I will not go to see the Mother with this bag of bones.”

Father had understood that it was time for his life’s lamp to be extinguished. He was always sort of absent-minded and sad. He would often tell us:

“When you go to the Ashram in the evening, sit there for a while. Do not forget to bow at the samadhi. Even if you cannot meditate all the time, remember the air that has touched the Mother comes and caresses our body and that air is immensely beneficial to us. This divine prasad is the Mother’s blessing. That is why you should go and sit in the Ashram.”

I was awe-struck. I had never seen things this way.

Before he died I had been observing that father on returning from the Playground remained in the Meditation Hall, at the same spot where the bronze bust of Sri Aurobindo stands today. He would sit there for a long time. After father left his body I missed him terribly and I felt an emptiness in that spot. One evening I was sitting in the Meditation Hall when Nolini-da came down from “upstairs”. He did not see me. While entering his room, this empty spot struck him and he at once exclaimed: “What a terrible void he has left there!” Nolini-da had a very deep affection for father.

After sitting in the Meditation Hall father would kneel at the Samadhi where he would stay for a long time. Sometimes I felt very worried about him. At times we had to call him back from the Samadhi.

“It is very late in the night. Don’t you want to go home?”

Slowly, quietly, he would get up and come away. On his way home he recounted to us all kinds of experiences.

Father would often say at home:

“This body has become old. It is time to discard it.”

An absent-minded, empty look was always there. He never told us that he often had chest pains.

On the evening of 21st May I was rather busy with some work. Suddenly Tapati came running:

“Didi! Father is feeling very unwell.”

I rushed to father’s room and saw him sitting on the floor. He had placed a photograph of the Mother on a chair and was holding it with both his hands, his head touching the Mother in obeisance. His body had turned blue and he was sweating profusely. I touched him and found his body completely cold. I rushed to the Ashram and informed the Mother that father was in a very critical state. The Mother sent word to Dr. Sanyal to go at once and examine him. I stood on the second-floor staircase and waited. When I reached the house with Sanyal-da I noticed father was sitting cheerfully on the cot outside in the verandah! Unbelievable! He even joked with Sanyal-da about various things. Sanyal-da went back quite relieved.

One day I found father in deep thought. Very pensive. We were sitting near him. After a while he remarked:

“Tomorrow is Manu’s (Arati’s) birthday. I will not leave on her birthday. I will stay on till her birthday.”

Then he looked at Manoj and said:

“You will stay in this room with Nebu (Tapati).”

He said these things in such a way that we were taken aback.

“Why are you saying these things? Where will you go leaving us behind?” I asked.

Father did not answer. I felt that he was plunged in thought. As night deepened, his chest pain returned. Sanyalda came a few times to give him an injection. The next day was the 22nd of May. The pain did not subside. Even with that tremendous pain he had not forgotten Arati’s birthday. He asked repeatedly:

“Manu has not yet returned from the Mother?”

It seemed that he was restless. That evening the Mother’s work ended very late. So Arati returned home only around six. On seeing her, father felt better at once. He came and sat in a chair.

“Come to me, Manu.”

And he hugged her tightly and asked her all kinds of questions about her birthday. He enquired about the Mother again and again.

Then he went and lay down on his bed. He was a different man now. The pain went on increasing and his suffering became unbearable. It was difficult to watch him in that state. He seemed to have been waiting for Arati to come back from the Mother. And all that time he was battling with death. Meanwhile the pain went on increasing. Father signalled to us to bring him some paper. There was a little bleeding from his mouth. Not wanting us to know, he kept spitting into the paper and throwing it in a bin. He avoided looking at us. Amazing! The night was well advanced and he signalled to us to go to sleep. I switched off the lights and began rubbing father’s back with my hand. And I kept calling the Mother.… Silent tears welled up uncontrollably. Suddenly father exclaimed in a loud voice:

“You should be quiet in a sick man’s room. Don’t spoil the atmosphere.”

And I had not even cried audibly! How did father come to know! From the night of 22nd May father’s condition deteriorated very fast. Early in the morning when Manoj rushed to the Ashram to inform the Mother about his condition, She told him:

“Tell your father that if he wishes to continue in this body he will have to bear this pain.”

And the Mother gave Manoj her “Blessing” for father. Manoj came back home and told father what the Mother had said. He touched the Mother’s “Blessing” on his forehead first and then kept it on his chest. A mysterious smile dawned on his lips. Then suddenly the pain increased even more. Manoj was holding father in his arms when he breathed his last. Father was clutching the Mother’s picture and Her “Blessing”, holding it close to his heart.

We kept staring at father’s face and remained still. It was difficult to understand what had happened. News of father’s departure spread in the Ashram. Ranju-da came home and said:

“Baba (Nolini-da) has asked all of you to go to the Ashram at once. The Mother is waiting for you. Baba is waiting for you near the door next to his room. Go quickly.”

We just looked at him quite nonplussed.

“How can we leave father at this moment and go?” I said to myself.

Ranju-da understood at once. “Don’t worry. We’re here.”

I noticed a lot of Ashramites had gathered quietly in the verandah and the courtyard outside. We left for the Ashram. Nolini-da was indeed waiting for us. He looked at us with great tenderness and said very gently:

“Go upstairs. The Mother is waiting for you in the Meditation Hall.”

We saw that the Mother was sitting upstairs in the same chair where She sat for the Darshans and on the 5th of December. This chair is still kept in the same spot and we still bow down to the chair on Darshan days and on 5th December. It is in front of this chair that on 5th December we all gather and meditate between 10 and 10.30 in the morning.

We entered the room and sat down in front of the Mother. The Mother looked at us and said:

“You will go back to your father’s body and sit around it. Meditate for an hour.”

Then She turned to me and said:

“Don’t cry. Meditate for one full hour. Don’t worry about the flowers. I will give the flowers to Nolini, Amrita and Pavitra. They will also sit and meditate with you.”

We returned from the Mother and came back home and sat before father’s body. We began meditating. But what was this! I kept seeing father, with that happy carefree radiant face! A silk kurta adorned his body, the same that father used to wear for special occasions. A silk chaddar around his neck. His beautiful face was aglow. Father was sitting a little above his body. And he called us all by our names. Slowly he went on rising upward. How wonderful his face looked! I just could not meditate any more. I went on looking at father and could not take my eyes off him.

After the meditation Minu told me:

“I was bowing down at the Samadhi when suddenly I noticed that the Service tree above was covered with flowers. The flowers were arranged in the form of uncle’s (my father’s) body and they were slowly going up. After this celestial vision was over I quickly ran to your house. And there I saw that uncle had indeed left his body!”

On 24th May, the day after father’s passing, we went back once again to the Mother. The Mother was waiting for us in the Meditation Hall, in Her chair. Hardly had we sat down around Her that She began talking to us about death.

“This body is nothing,” She repeated again and again touching Her own hand. “As you change an old sari with a new one, in the same way when the body becomes old and sick, we give up the old body and take up a new one. It is like leaving one room and entering another.”

And even as She was telling us this, suddenly She exclaimed:

“There! There in that corner near the Darshan room, your father is standing full of joy. He is telling you ‘I am extremely happy. Coming over to this side is not difficult at all. Very easy indeed! I am very happy’.”

We turned around to look at that corner but we could not see father.

After father’s departure, why had the Mother asked us to meditate for an hour? This question was troubling me. Was it because something unforeseen had happened to father after his death? I therefore asked the Mother:

“Mother, why did you call us as soon as father had left his body? Why did you ask us to meditate for an hour?”

The Mother answered:

“I asked you to meditate near your father’s bed for an hour because I performed the last rites for him during that time.”

The Mother understood that I was not able to derive much consolation from Her words. I still harboured negative fears for my father. The Mother suddenly asked me:

“Didn’t you see anything during the meditation?” I replied:

“I saw that father was seated a little above his body. His face was aglow with joy. He called us all by our names and then slowly he started moving upward.”

“You’ve seen what truly happened,” the Mother answered. “After his death, his whole being rose upward but his paternal affection kept him tied down as with a slender thread. What will become of my children? How will they be without me? These worries were holding him down. I decided to perform the shraddha for him and free him totally from this bond of paternal love. Your father will not return any more as a human being. He will come down straight as a supramental being upon the earth.”

As soon as the Mother uttered that father would come down as a supramental being upon the earth we cried out joyfully. Hearing our cries of joy Champaklal-ji came running to the door. He also had a smile on his face.

Then I told the Mother about Minu’s vision after father’s death.

The Mother listened to everything and remarked:

“Minu has seen clearly. Your father spent all his life in the service of Sri Aurobindo, to surrender himself. He organised every part of his being around his psychic being. He was an extremely conscious human being. I saw him rise straight upward, gathering every part of his being, straight to that plane where Sri Aurobindo is at work. That’s where he has gone.”

The Mother told Satprem many things about death. While talking about this, She described father’s journey after his death in great detail to him. I include that description below. If man lives his life consciously then his soul progresses. Father’s life is proof of that. The Mother observed:

“Take N.D. for example, a man who lived his whole life with the idea of serving Sri Aurobindo; he died clasping my photo to his breast. This was a consecrated man, very conscious, with an unfailing dedication, and all the parts of his being well organised around the psychic. The day he was going to leave his body, little M was meditating next to the Samadhi when suddenly she had a vision. She saw all the flowers of the tree next to the Samadhi gathering themselves together to form a big bouquet, and rising, rising straight up. And in her vision these flowers were linked with the image of N.D. She ran quickly to their house and she found him dead.

“I only knew about this vision later but on my side, when he left, I saw his whole being gathered together, well united, thoroughly homogenous, in a great aspiration and rising, rising without dispersing, without deviating, straight up to the frontier of what Sri Aurobindo has called ‘the higher hemisphere’, there where Sri Aurobindo in his supramental action presides over earth. And he melted into that light.

“Some time before his heart attack he said to his children:

‘The coat is old, it must be thrown away.’ ”