Moments Eternal

The Darshan

For Thee O Lord, my eyes sleep not,

But where art thou, O where?

They pine for thee, O still uncaught,

So sweet this pining, ah, blessed is my lot!

How we longed for even a moment’s darshan of the Mother, to get from Her divine hands a flower-blessing. Day after day, hour after hour we would wait in silence on Her path. In the evening we sat on the staircase that the Mother used to go to Her room. And we would keep sitting there waiting for Her to pass. It was almost ten o’clock. All of a sudden the door would open and to each one of us She would give a flower-blessing on Her way down. People were waiting for Her down at the Meditation Hall.

And thus years went by. Sometimes the Mother did not open Her door because She had gone into a trance. So everybody would quietly go back home. Such a joy we got, simply waiting for the Mother! But it was a little painful too!

But where art thou, O where?

They pine for thee, O still uncaught,

So sweet this pining, ah, blessed is my lot!

And thus the years flowed on. Who could have imagined that all this would one day come to an end?

Sitting in the dust by thy door,

This beggar-heart doth thee implore

Compassion-alms of thy Grace outpour.

The Mother was talking to us in the Playground one day about different things. She told us:

“I used to go almost every evening for a drive some distance away. Pavitra would drive and when we reached the chosen place he would stop the car, open the door of the car and go out to walk by himself. On one such occasion I was sitting in the car. The air was very peaceful and I could see many beautiful scenes from the car. Suddenly from somewhere a huge cobra got into the car. He came straight towards me and swaying his large hood stood near my lap. I watched him for some time. Then I told him:

‘All right, now you can go.’

At once the cobra lowered his hood and slithered out.”

I did not like the Mother’s playing with the snake in this way. I blurted out:

“You really should not have encouraged that snake like that. You should have killed it straight away.”

The Mother was taken aback and said:

“No, that can’t be. How can I kill? I am the Mother.”

The way the Mother said “I am the Mother”, I could not say anything more. I just sat there speechless. “I am the Mother” kept echoing in the universe. Isn’t it amazing how from a little incident I got to hear from the Mother’s own lips this tremendously significant utterance “I am the Mother”.

Let me tell you about another incident. The Mother had come to the Playground after finishing Her game of tennis. Mota-kaka, Charuchandra Bhattacharya (Pranab’s uncle), walked into the Playground with a group of miserable looking boys. They were students of a primary school and looked extremely poor. They all wore dirty shorts and torn shirts. Their hair was unwashed and dishevelled. God knows how long they hadn’t applied oil to it. Mota-kaka accompanied this group of children to the Mother. I was standing near the Mother. The Mother lovingly gave to each one of the boys a toffee. Suddenly Mota-kaka exclaimed:

“Mother, I think Priti is feeling a little disgusted seeing these poorly-dressed children.”

The Mother threw a glance at me. I felt slightly ill at ease. I had no feeling of disgust at all for these poor children but Mota-kaka enjoyed embarrassing me in this way. After She had finished distributing the toffees to the children the Mother got up and started walking towards Her room. I followed Her. The Mother walked a few steps and stopped. Turning towards me She said:

“Never forget that they too are my children. I am their

Mother too.”

From the Mother’s heart an inexhaustible infinite love poured out for each and every child of hers. “I am their Mother too”, hearing these words from the Mother Herself I became speechless. Quite enchanted.

I suddenly remembered what Sri Aurobindo had written in The Mother:

In her vision they are all her children, an integral part of her.

But what an unforeseen joy to have heard this divine declaration “I am the Mother” from the Mother’s own lips. These words uttered with so much tenderness often return to me and oh, how unbelievably enchanting She looked at that moment!

Bearing the burden of universal love,

A wonderful mother of unnumbered souls.

(Savitri)