Living in The Presence

My Education

In 1951, on the day after I had offered the box of ornaments, when I returned to the Mother, She asked me,

    "You were studying there, weren't you?"

    "Yes, Mother."

    "You must continue your studies here. Do you know Sisir?"

    "Yes, Mother."

    "Go to Sisir. Ask him to make arrangements for your English class. Since we are in the middle of the year, Sisir will have to find a special person to teach you English. From next year, you will join the regular classes. There's a French lady named Suzanne Karpelès. I will ask her to teach you French if she has the time. This year you focus on these two subjects. In the afternoon, you will work with Prithwisingh. Do you know Prithwisingh?"

    "No, Mother."

    "Ask Nolini to introduce you to him. You will work with him in the afternoons."

    Prithwisingh Nahar was in charge of the Publication department then. Books are sold from that same section inside the Ashram even today. Prithwisingh-da sat in that room and his younger daughter Suprabha and I used to work with him in the afternoon.

    After telling me about my afternoon work with Prithwisingh-da, She began to select the flowers to give me as She did every day. Then She spoke again,

    "Before going to bed at night, read a few lines from Savitri. Do you have a copy of Savitri? Nolini will give you a copy, otherwise. Shall we stop here, then? For the rest we will see next year. Is there something you would like?"

    "What, Mother?"

    "Things of daily use. We don't give 'Prosperity' before one year." ('Prosperity' is a service of the Ashram from where the inmates receive the basic things they need.)

    "No, Mother. I don't need anything."

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    So for that year (1951), Sisir-da made the necessary arrangements for my English classes and I started learning French from Suzanne Karpeles (Bharati-di). In the afternoons, I used to work in the Publication department with Prithwisingh-da. My mother began working in the flower-service in the mornings and in the afternoons, she would make the flower-arrangements on the Samadhi. In the flower-service, flower vases and trays were prepared with the flowers that came from the Ashram gardens. These flower vases and trays were then sent to Sri Aurobindo's room, the Mother's room, the Meditation Hall downstairs, etc. This work was given to Ma and a few other ladies. Jatin-da was then in charge. Ma used to go to work at about 7.30 in the morning and return at around 10.30-11. The Samadhi was decorated with flowers twice a day: very early in the morning when all the old flowers were replaced with fresh ones and a new design was made and then in the afternoon around 2 o'clock when the flowers that had dried up or wilted were replaced on the same design. This too Was done by Ma along with some other sadhikas. This work was done both in the morning or in the afternoon, in absolute silence. After the flower-arrangement work was over, the sadhikas lit some incense, bowed at the Samadhi and returned home. Sometimes, after finishing my work with Prithwisingh-da I would stand for a while at the Samadhi before going back home. How utterly pure and serene the air felt in this hallowed space!

    And thus my new life of sadhana began. Apart from Nolini-da and Rajen-da (my brothers' close friend) we did not know anybody else. To be very honest, I did think at times of Baba and my brothers and our Calcutta house. My life had seen a sea-change so suddenly! The Mother had pulled me out of that atmosphere of Calcutta, out of those bonds of deep affection, and thrown me in the midst of this intensely

    Spiritual life. All of us who lived in the Ashram in those days were connected with the Mother both in our inner as well as outer life. The Mother saw everything and knew everything about us. We seemed to dwell in Her consciousness. I used to feel from time to time in my daily routine a great sense of aloneness. I experienced moments of profound loneliness. It was not possible to run up to the Mother or go and spend some time with Nolini-da whenever I felt like. Probably that increased my sense of loneliness. Those who were of my age and had come to the Ashram before me had built beautiful links of friendship but I was isolated. I used to hover around Nolini-da's room in the hope of catching a few moments in his company, or to catch hold of Rajen-da to do the same. In Rajen-da I used to get a waft of that Calcutta air, our Calcutta house and the Calcutta atmosphere.

    The Mother, of course, knew everything. Slowly, step by step, I began walking on the path of this new life at the Ashram. The Mother was my guide. I remember some lines I had penned:

O Mother, you are my ferry
To take me across the shores of the world,
You are, indeed, my ferry, Mother.
O Mother, you are my ferry
Therefore, have I abandoned all,
And arrived today at your door!

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