An account of Huta's sadhana & the grace showered on her by The Mother - especially how Mother prepared her for painting the series: 'Meditations on Savitri'.
The Mother : Contact On Savitri
This book tells the story of how Huta came to the Ashram and began her work with the Mother. It presents a detailed account of how the Mother prepared and encouraged her to learn painting and helped her to create two series of paintings: the 472 pictures comprising Meditations on Savitri and the 116 pictures that accompanied the Mother's comments titled About Savitri. During their meetings, where the Mother revealed her visions for each painting by drawing sketches and explaining which colours should be used, the unique importance of Savitri and the Mother's own experiences connected to the poem come clearly into view. The book is also a representation of Huta's sadhana, her struggles and her progress, and the solicitude and grace showered on her by the Mother.
THEME/S
On 20th February 1955 the Mother wrote a letter to my eldest brother Laljibhai, who was in East Africa with my parents and other family members:
20.2.55
Laljibhai,
Where is your faith in the Divine? Having faith in the Divine you ought to rejoice that Savita has received the inner call and decided to lead the divine life; you ought to be made happy by this sign of the Divine's Grace and feel grateful for it.
The offering that Savita has made of herself has been accepted and from now she is no more Savita but Huta.
Quietly face the social difficulties with equality and cheerfulness; then you will know that my love and blessings are with you.
I wished to know from the Mother about my coming to her in a mysterious way. She answered:
My dear little child,
From your childhood something in you was aspiring for a great realisation—and if you failed in the various worldly things you tried, it is because you were meant for a higher realisation, that of the Spirit. Now the Divine has brought you to the place where you can fulfil your highest aspiration—find the Divine and unite with the Divine consciously. This naturally takes time and needs perseverance, but it is worth all the efforts that have to be made for its realisation.
My help, my strength, my power and my love will always be with you to take you to the goal.
With my blessings
The Mother gave me the new name:
Huta the offered one With my blessings
I was given by the Mother work in her Private Stores where nobody was allowed to go except Dyuman, the Mother's personal attendant, who was in charge of the Stores.
On the morning of 1st April 1956, a Sunday, the Mother kindled a spark of hope within me by writing the following letter:
1.4.56
Bonjour To My dear little child Huta
With this month beginning let us have a new hope for a complete liberation.
My help, force, love and blessings are always with you.
For me this letter was very symbolic.
It was 3rd April. The Mother visited her Stores which were renovated. I was working in the Stores. I kept them clean and looked after numerous big and small cupboards packed with various precious and priceless things offered by the Mother's devotees. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure when she saw many idols in one of the glass cupboards. She said with enthusiasm:
We shall have the Dolls and Idols exhibition on 24th November 1956. I want these idols to be exhibited in a Temple which will have a separate mom, so it will be quite by itself You will take charge of the Temple, decorate the idols and arrange them in it.
The Mother got me the necessary things to adorn the images.
One fine morning I sent an idol to the Mother to find out from her what the image represented. She replied:
The idol you sent is Mahalakshmi—you can give her a pale green sari with roses painted on it.
According to the Mother, Mahalakshmi signifies:
Mahalakshmi with all her Kindness and Beauty
She not only instructed me how to decorate the idols but also explained in detail their symbols and powers.
The Mother asked me to make a garland of red Hibiscus for Mahakali. This was her first sketch with instructions:
12.5.56
To My dear little child, To my sweet Huta
Here is the promised Java flower which you can use as a model. Naturally you will have to do them quite small.
My love and blessings are always with you.
Yet another reassuring card from the Mother:
14.5.56
Bonjour To My dear little child* To my very sweet Huta*
Who does work with so much taste and skill.
I keep you in my arms with all my love and force and my blessings are always with you.
The Mother directed me through a letter how to paint tiny pink roses and buds on Mahalakshmi's sari. She also sent me a small painting box and brushes.
There! Painting! But I had never used oil colour before. Actually I knew nothing about oil painting. I did not even know how to hold brushes, nor did I have any colour sense. Everything started with the Grace of Mahalakshmi. She became the symbol of my spiritual life and artistic work.
First I tried to paint a blue bird—the bird of happiness—on a piece of red silk. I showed it to the Mother on 12th April in the evening in her room at the Playground. Her pleasure was instantly reflected in her luminous eyes and sweet smile. She took my hand and, after a pause, said:
Child, you have the capacity to paint and it is a splendid gift. I also did many paintings and exhibited them in Paris. I love to paint, but where is the time?
She went into a trance for a few moments. Then she asked me:
Will you paint blue birds on my white dress?
I was perplexed. But I said to her hesitatingly that I would try.
I received from the Mother a card depicting flowers—Butea monosperma—Flame-of-the-forest, and these promising words:
Beginning of Realisation in the physical
1.6.56
Bonjour To My dear little child To my very sweet Huta
This card will tell you that we have now started on the way and that I expect we shall go on nicely in our progress.
My love, help and strength are always with you and my blessings surround you.
Before I painted the Mother's dress I finished painting the pale green sari of Mahalakshmi, which the Mother liked.
On 2nd June 1956 I offered to the Mother the dress with blue birds which I had painted according to her wish. She opened her eyes wide in sheer surprise, pressed my hands and said with zeal:
My child, this is very good. If I teach you how to paint systematically, will you learn from me?
I answered:
Yes Mother, I will learn from you.
The Mother was pleased with my answer and said:
Very well, but first you must see my paintings in order to get certain ideas. I will call you one morning and then we shall see them together.
Later, I observed her wearing on several occasions the white dress with the blue birds painted on it.
While painting the birds I had felt that the work of painting was somehow familiar to me. I remember distinctly all that the Mother revealed to me of my past births one day after our meditation in her room in the Playground. One of the births, she said, was that of a well-known award-winning artist in France—this the Mother actually saw in her vision. It could be the portraitist Madame Vigee-Lebrun she saw, because as the painter in me developed I found myself extremely inclined to doing portraits. From 1957 I started doing imaginary portraits with crayon, and later I painted several people. The Mother remarked:
Child, you have the capacity to bring out souls when you do portraits of people.
I may quote a passage from Sri Aurobindo Birth Centenary Edition, Vol. 25, p. 370:
The Mother only speaks to people about their past births when she sees definitely same scene or memory of their past in concentration; ...
That night I was thinking about all that the Mother had said to me regarding painting. At that moment I did not in the least realise that the painting she intended to teach me was not on the ordinary level but something higher and occult.
On 8th June 1956 I received from the Mother a card along with these words:
My dear child, my very sweet Huta, I am sending you Savitri. With my love and blessings always
During that time I thought that it was absolutely impossible for me to understand and grasp the very essence of the great Epic written by Sri Aurobindo. A dreadful feeling of inferiority crept into my consciousness. The next day after my Stores-work and the daily activities, I was in my Golconde room thinking about my future. The volume of Savitri was just lying in front of me. I touched it and my eyes filled with tears, because to follow the Mantric Poem was beyond my capacity and comprehension. At once I felt strong vibrations in my head and started receiving all sorts of suggestions. I sat in a frozen silence, making no effort to sort them out. The chaotic indications wrought havoc in me. I felt I was good for nothing.
Then one night I had a concrete experience in my sleep that the Mother was reciting Savitri. I heard her sweet and soothing voice and felt strongly the warmth of her Presence. I related my experience to the Mother. She confirmed:
Yes, indeed, I recited Savitri to you. It was the passage from Book Eleven—The Everlasting Day.
At once my memory winged back to the day of 25th July 1954 when a few devotees of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother came to our Estate in Miwani (Kenya). Shivabhai Amin recited the same passage from Book Eleven and I felt as if the Mother herself was reciting.
Still my state of consciousness was ambiguous.
The Mother sent me a card which said:
Let the remembrance of the Truth be always with you.
My love, blessings and help are and will always be with you
Days rolled on. The more I tried to follow the path of Truth the more I got puzzled by various forces. Nevertheless, my work of decorating the idols continued. The Mother never failed to encourage me:
29.6.56
Bonjour To My dear little child To my sweet Huta
who is a true lover of Beauty, this Divine aspect of physical life.
With my love and blessings, The Grace is always with you.
The Mother sent me a card and these words of confirmation:
12.7.56
Bonjour To My dear little child, To my sweet Huta
Indeed I shall show you how to paint and I shall be glad if you learn well.
One day I shall call you and do a painting in front of you. With my love and blessings, always
I was extremely happy, because the Mother would teach me painting. Thus I would learn her technique from scratch.
In the depth of my heart, I felt that in spite of the crises in my life I would surely swim and not sink in the dark sea of unconsciousness. I expressed my feelings to the Mother. She answered:
22 7. 56
I have read your very nice letter which is quite true.
Indeed I am quite convinced that sincere love will overcome all obstacles, difficulties and deficiencies, that is why I am sure of the final Victory, because I know you love me and I love you.
In the evening the Mother explained to me at length about painting:
Oil painting is not an easy thing. It is quite different from water colour and pastel colour In oil painting you require oil colours, various sizes of oil colour brushes—hog hair, pure red sable—canvas boards, a palette, a palette knife, an easel, charcoal sticks or thick pencils,distilled turpentine and linseed oil and lots of rags to wipe the brushes and the palette.
First of all you can start painting on a small board which must be fixed properly on an easel. Also full light must be allowed to fall on the board. Then choose any object and place it nicely so that you can copy it as it is. Do not forget to put a coloured or white cloth behind the object as a background because it is essential to judge correctly the shadows and the lights of the object.
Before starting a painting, you must make the proper concentrated observation of an object in order to do perfect work. Here also three things are to be remembered: (1) colour—play of colour (2) light and shadow, (3) form—volume and outline. Now draw the outline of an object with the charcoal stick. If you want to rub it of you can use either the middle part—the soft part—of bread or a good eraser.
Squeeze out colours from the tubes on to the palette. White colour should be in the centre and the other colours on both sides. There are many whites: Flake White, Titanium White, Zinc White and so on. Never use two whites together; otherwise after some length of time the picture will become black
It is better to use only Flake White. For painting you will require more white than any other colour. So always keep a tube of I lb. I too used to keep a I lb. tube of white colour while I painted.
Now mix the colours required Then find out where the darkest shadow and brightest light are on the object you wish to paint. At once, then, put on the canvas board a stroke where there is the brightest light and another on the darkest shadow. Remember; colours should not be taken either thin or very thick but just moderate.
If you paint a picture fully—that is, from top to bottom—then it is excellent! For in oil painting you cannot possibly keep a vacant space as in water colour. Again, in oil painting, only a touch is required It cannot be done by rubbing brushes against a board as it is done in water colour; otherwise it ruins the charm of the painting.
If a painting is half done and is not completely dried, you cannot possibly resume work on it. Otherwise the beauty of the colours will be spoilt. Even if the work seems dried on the surface, it is always wet underneath. So make sure that a picture is completely dried, and if necessary, give the finishing touch to it to make it more vivid and attractive. It is not wise to use very much a medium like turpentine and linseed oil; otherwise after years a painting becomes dull and sometimes cracks show on the surface.
It is most important to take the best care of your painting materials. Colours must be squeezed out from the bottom and not from the top of the tubes. After finishing a painting, if any colours remain over, you can always take them carefully from the palette with a palette knife and put them in small glass pots, and whenever you start painting again, say after a few hours or so, you can use those colours once more. Do not let the tubes remain without their caps.
The palette must be cleaned thoroughly with turpentine, soap and lukewarm water. Wipe it with a soft cloth and make it shine like a mirror. Then hang it on a hook or stand it against a wall. Also great care must be taken of brushes. After finishing painting, wash the brushes with turpentine. Petrol is not good for them, because they get burnt and lose their hair.
Now pour turpentine into a glass pot, dip the brushes in it and turn them round and round rapidly, dry them with a smooth cloth, then take some soap and water in your palm and clean the brushes carefully. Finally, wash them in warm water and once again wipe them with a soft cloth. Let them dry in a big pot with tail down and head up.
Indeed, it takes time to learn oil painting perfectly well. It needs skill, patience and a steady mind. Also, hands and eyes must be trained. You can gradually learn painting—first from objects, then from Nature, after that from imagination; and lastly come portraits and visions.
Now something would always keep ringing in my ears about oil painting!
The following morning a lovely card of snow-clad mountains came from the Mother:
23.7.56
Bonjour To My dear little child* To my sweet Huta*
Yes, I shall teach you all I know about painting and feel sure you will learn well.
Here is one beauty site of Nature.
With my love and blessings always
The Mother's support kept me going on, because I felt that she would lead me to my goal through painting. She wrote:
31.7.56
I am sending you herewith the list of requirements for oil painting. The address of the company is on the top; it is from their catalogue that the list has been made and it [is] to them that your brother must go.
All these things have been carefully chosen and will be useful. So, it is better if he buys everything.
With my love and blessings always with you
At that time one of my brothers, Maganbhai, was going to England from East Africa. I sent the list to my family according to the Mother's wish. These painting materials would be coming from Windsor and Newton Company. My brother would arrange to get them through our Agent, Mr. I. Kundle, there.
The Mother saw and corrected my notes regarding spirituality and art in the diaries which she gave me every year.
On 24th August she sent me a painted card showing Snap-Dragons—Antirrhinum Majus—with these lines:
24.8.56
Here is the power of expression to help you in your writing. Yes, bring to the playground what is ready—it is better to see it little by little. With my love and blessings always in the Grace
I am taking the notebook to the playground today. Come at 5.45 and we shall see it together
The following day the Mother wrote:
25.8.56
Indeed, yesterday I was quite pleased with the way you remembered what I had told you and I will be glad to correct what you are writing—consequently it will be better to put it in a general way as you propose to do.
It is good that you have a good and correct memory—it can be made quite useful.
With my love and blessings in the Grace always with you
On 15th September 1956 the Mother called me to see her paintings as arranged by her previously. I went to the Meditation Hall upstairs. There, taking in the entire scene at one glance, I gasped in sheer wonderment. The Mother's many paintings lay all over the place—some were on chairs, some others on tiger skins, a few on a divan and the rest on small stools. This full display gave me the impression of a small exhibition.
The Mother entered the Hall with a bunch of white roses, which she gave me. Then with a smile she started introducing each of her paintings with eagerness and enthusiasm. I was fascinated by her descriptions.
Later, I recounted more fully the Mother's explanations regarding her paintings and sketches in my book The Story of a Soul Volume Two, 1956, Part Two, which was published by the Havyavahana Trust in 2009. Earlier, some of this information had been published in a long article in the Ashram review Mother India. Krishnalal and Vasudev—both artists—asked for off-prints of this article to keep in their record. Later Vasudev gave it to Jayantilal—artist—for certain references when the book The Mother: Paintings and Drawings was printed. In connection with that book, I gave a full statement which was published in Mother India of July 1993.
The Mother asked me to clean her two beautiful carved cupboards which stand opposite to her high-backed carved chair in the Meditation Hall upstairs. They are packed with objets d'art, old and new, from all over the world. She wanted my hands to be trained to handle the most delicate objects with full awareness and with great care. At that time I never knew that the Mother would send me rare objects from these cupboards as models to paint.
On 12th October 1956 I received from the Mother a card depicting a vase with flowers—Phlox—together with these words:
12.10.56
Here is "skill in work" which you deserve so well. Indeed you did your cleaning work as well as could be.
My love and blessings and the constant Presence of the Grace never leave you.
A big house, formerly called the "Gospel House", was bought by my whole family according to the Mother's wish. The Mother wanted me to stay in the apartment upstairs which is a part of the house. She intended to get it renovated and arranged properly.
A letter came from her with these words:
22.10.56
I am sending back your book corrected, it is all right.
This afternoon at 1/4 to 4 (3.45) I shall come at "Huta's House" because such will be its name henceforth.
With my love and blessings along with the constant Presence of the Grace
She came at the appointed time with a few people and went straight upstairs. Laljibhai too was there. He had come for a short visit. The Mother herself decided upon all the arrangements.
After that the Mother went to play tennis. Later we met in her room at the Playground. After a brief meditation the Mother said:
You are my adopted child, I have adopted you and I like to take care of you.
Tears of relief and happiness welled up in my eyes. I was quite aware that material things and outer comforts would never bring me everlasting peace and happiness and that I could only obtain these when I realise the Supreme. I expressed my feeling to the Mother and thanked her once again for taking so much care of me. The next morning she answered:
23.10.56
Bonjour To My dear little child, to my sweet Huta.
I have read your very nice letter and listened to your sincere prayer. The Grace always grants the sincere prayers—so be quite sure that you will reach your goal. I am happy to take care of you and do it always with all my love and blessings.
The work of decorating the idols was almost finished. Invariably the Mother encouraged me by sending cards. This is one of them:
12.11.56
Here is some 'skill in work' which expresses so nicely the special capacity of your nature. I send it with all my love and my blessings with the assurance of the constant Presence of the Divine's Grace.
I gave finishing touches to the idols. The Mother saw them in her Stores before they went to the Exhibition Hall. I arranged the images in the wooden Temple—especially made for them—as the Mother wanted.
She declared the Exhibition open on 24th November 1956 at 4 p.m. The following morning she sent me a card:
25.11.56
Bonjour To my very dear little child To my very sweet and loving Huta
I send this hand made picture as a token of my admiration for the truly excellent and remarkable work you have done in the "Doll 's exhibition". The "Temple" which is your work is indeed a piece of art and will be long remembered among the Ashram activities. I especially appreciated the quiet and concentrated atmosphere created by the "Temple" which gave a very fine impression.
With all my love and blessings I keep you in my arms, and the Divine Grace is always with you.
On 10th December 1956 I received from England the painting materials. I sent them to the Mother. In the evening when I saw her in her room at the Playground, she told me laughingly:
Eh! Now we shall soon start painting and play with colours as children do!
Once more a sweet laugh rang out. I was very much pleased at that time to hear all that she had said, but later on I found this special kind of painting was not at all child's play!
To paint was all right with me, but I did really want to live the Divine Life. I wondered how to make my whole being come round to join the ardent aspiration of my soul to lead the Divine Life in completeness. Once again I implored the Mother to accomplish my longing, because now my patience was wearing thin. She replied on a pretty card:
11.12.56
I have read your nice letter—yes, my dear child, I will explain to you all that is needed to live the Divine Life, the true life, and I will show you the way step by step.
My love and blessings and the Divine Grace are always present with you, night and day and for ever
On the morning of 12th December the Mother sent me a card:
12.12.56
It is on Friday morning at 10.30 that you will come to open together the box of painting materials—and I shall show you how to use these things.
My love and blessings along with the Presence of the Divine Grace never leave you and will never leave you.
It was a fine cool morning on 14th December 1956. I entered the Meditation Hall upstairs. I surveyed the whole setup at a single glance. There were a small easel, a stool, the painting materials, and a low table with a vase holding three white flowers—Hibiscus Mutabilis. The Mother gave the significance to this flower:
The Divine Grace—Thy goodness is infinite; I bow before Thee in gratitude!
These flowers were arranged against a background formed by a cloth hung over the back of a chair.
Jayantilal and Champaklal were present. We waited for the Mother. The minutes ticked by and I became impatient and nervous. I was shaken considerably by this trial, which had not been of my seeking.
The Mother came smiling—but, as she had a cold, she sneezed once or twice. She gave a fleeting smile to us and then sat on the small stool before the easel, and instructed Jayantilal to squeeze certain colours out from the tubes onto the palette. This done, in one hand she had the palette, with brushes of various sizes laid across her fingers. She picked up one brush with the other hand and started painting. Her hand moved artistically over the board. She was silent but time and again a smile touched her lips; it proved that she really enjoyed doing the painting in spite of her heavy cold. She made me sit on her left so that I might see every move of hers, the composition of flowers, the arrangement of light and shadow.
The Mother was so absorbed in this work that time flew by more quickly than we had anticipated. She sat for more than two hours, yet the painting remained unfinished, but it was truly unusually beautiful. In fact, the Mother only wanted me to learn how she had used different colours and strokes.
Afterwards she asked Jayantilal to clean the palette. Turning to me she said:
Now you must watch how the palette is cleaned. These remaining colours can be used on a canvas-board to make an interesting background for a new painting.
Then she gave me three flowers of Plumeria Obtusa to paint and asked me to show her the painting that same evening in her room at the Playground.
The Mother gave the following significance to these flowers:
Perfect Psychological Perfection—Psychological Perfection in all parts of the being.
I set up everything in my room in Golconde and started doing the painting in the very spirit the Mother had done in the morning. Unhappily, I could paint only one flower on a tiny board 14.2cm x 19.3cm.
In the evening she saw my painting for a few moments and said tenderly:
Child, it is your first attempt and it is quite good. You should only express the proper effect by showing the depth of the flower, so that it stands out and looks real. Use a little grey with white to give that impression. You see, there is always a play of light and shadow, and you should bring out the reality of the flowers by giving precise strokes with the exact colours required for the objects or flowers.
There and then thoughts started flashing into my brain. I questioned myself: "What kind of oil painting is this? What are these depths and strokes, light and shadow the Mother is talking about?" I went home in that touchy mood. I wrote a letter to the Mother that I wanted to go to the school to learn proper technique, because she had not enough time and she could not teach me everything in detail. The Mother answered on 15th December:
Indeed, it is very good that Jayanti will help you and I am sure you will progress very quickly and do very nice things.
My love and blessings and Presence of the Divine Grace are and will always be with you.
I cursed myself—I was certainly not such a blockhead as not to sense a touch of sarcasm in the letter. I really felt ashamed, and gave up the idea of learning from anybody. I went to the Mother in the evening and told her that I would learn painting only from her, from whatever she taught me. She smiled and looked into my eyes, and then, leaning back on her couch and folding her arms across her bosom, said:
Splendid! You see, nobody here in the Ashram has seriously and strictly taken up oil painting in a systematic and professional way. You are the first to do so. In the Ashram school the children paint only with water colours and they are amateurs. Our grown up artists also use water colours and pastel colours. So there you are!
After a pause the Mother said:
Oil painting is an art in which you can give only an impression. All the beauty and charm depends on how you develop your consciousness. With the growth of consciousness, hands and eyes become sharp and skilful, they recognise exactly what can be done in oil painting. Automatically and spontaneously the thing takes shape and becomes vivid and full of radiant vibrations.
If the hands are fully trained and they become full of consciousness, then everything becomes easier. For example, there are a certain number of sweets in a box. Now, you wish to pick out only five sweets from it. If your hands are full of consciousness and skill, surely the precise number of sweets will be in your hand. In painting too, you will gradually develop a similar capacity.
You will learn painting according to my will and vision.
This was the Mother's decision. This was the beginning of my learning and doing painting. I stepped into the domain of true Art.
During this time the Mother used to send me various picture-cards in order to give examples of paintings of great artists. Here is one of them:
16.12.56
This is again a painting from Turner showing the interior of a room. It is again a good example of how things must be simplified in a picture.
I am sending you back also your book for you to write down all what I told you yesterday on painting and I shall see it when it is written.
My love and blessings and help along with the Presence of the Divine Grace are always with you.
The Mother sent me a card showing a vase with lovely carnations of different colours. Her promising words were:
24.12.56
Here is a nice vase of "Collaboration" for indeed we shall collaborate to do nice things and express in painting a higher world and consciousness.
Truly the Divine Grace is over you to lead you to an exceptional realisation. Along with it my love and blessings never leave you.
The Mother has given this significance to the Carnation:
Collaboration, ever ready to help and knowing how to do it.
The year 1957 began. The Message distributed by the Mother ran:
A power greater than that of Evil can alone win the victory. It is not a crucified but a glorified body that will save the world
The Mother explained fully its meaning in [Questions and Answers 1957-58, pp. 3-5] (https://incarnateword.in/cwm/09/2-january-1957#p23-p26). The last passage is the most striking:
... It is neither sacrifice nor renunciation nor weakness which can bring the victory. It is only Delight, a delight which is strength, endurance, supreme courage. The delight brought by the supramental force. It is much more difficult than giving up everything and running away, it asks for an infinitely greater heroism—but that is the only means of conquering.
The Mother, Questions and Answers (1957 - 1958): 2 January 1957
The Mother sent me on 1st January 1957 a Japanese card in which there was a painting of an attractive landscape on a bamboo sheet. She wished me:
Bonne Année To My dear little child, to my sweet Huta With all my love
At 10 a.m. I went to the Ashram and sat in the corridor upstairs near the room of Pavitra with some people to listen to the music which the Mother was playing on her old organ.
The Mother has stated about her music in Mother India, May 1960, p. 42:
This music aims at awakening certain profound feelings. To hear it one should make oneself as silent and passive as possible. And if, in the mental silence, a part of the being can take the attitude of the witness who observes without reacting or participating, then one can take account of the effect which the music produces on the feelings and emotions; and if it produces a state of deep calm and semi-trance, then that is quite good
Sri Aurobindo has written about the Mother's music in the Centenary Edition, Vol. 25:
It is not necessary to have technical knowledge in order to feel what is behind the music. Mother, of course, does not play for the sake of a technical musical effect, but to bring down something from the higher planes and that anyone can receive who is open.
The Mother's music reminds me of these lines from Savitri:
Immortal harmonies filled her listening ear; A great spontaneous utterance of the heights. ||148.24||
On 12th January 1957 the Mother inscribed on a card:
I am sending the Goddess of Mercy. Paint it on a white background. Observe well and you will see that there are not two whites alike—there is bluish white, pinkish white, creamish white etc., etc... and if you copy well you can make a very interesting harmony in whites.
The image of the Buddhist Goddess Kwan-yin, called Kwan-yin in Japan, was made out of porcelain. It was milk-white and I was supposed to paint it on a white background! I thought that it was a master idea! I was confused. I went to the Mother that very morning and asked her: "Mother, how is it possible to paint white on white? It is really difficult." First she looked at me intently, then said sharply:
Nothing is difficult. First of all you must see the image with your open eyes.
She opened her own eyes wide and said:
Like this.
She continued:
Then you must find out how many colours there are in white—because Nature is full of iris hues. Concentrate properly, and paint by giving different shades of pale colours. If you wish to learn painting perfectly well, you must observe objects minutely and copy them accurately.
Then she smiled sweetly and gave a kiss on my forehead.
While going back to Golconde I thought: "These types of paintings are certainly not easy. I must give up painting." However, I finished the painting according to the Mother's instructions. I showed it to her in the evening. She looked at it for quite a long time. Then she said with a happy smile:
This painting is really full of light and vibrations—it is vivid; if you concentrate on the painting, you will surely see the light.
The Mother revealed to me about her way with paintings:
I enter into their consciousness and find out their meanings, the truth and beauty behind each painting.
Some paintings are indeed very nice to look at—they have pretty and gorgeous colours, but when there are no living vibrations and deep harmony, then obviously the paintings are lifeless and without value. But where there is a combination of the two—outward charm and inner vision—then they are real and can be considered as true art.
In your paintings I have felt the living vibrations and that is very good.
The Mother added:
A true artist never speaks of what he has done: "Oh! I have done a nice painting! " Instead he thinks and says, "Oh no. I could not do it nicely, it is not what I wanted to do."
In fact, he is never satisfied with his work and he continues his effort until he paints masterpieces. An artist puts the full power of his aspiration in his work to reach perfection.
Not only was the Mother teaching me painting, but also giving me lessons of life: how to be modest and persistent in my endeavour to reach perfection and develop into a true artist.
None can beat the Mother's vision, conception and knowledge. A pointer to her being and her ways may be found in Savitri, Book Four, Canto 1: p. 406:
And from her eyes she cast another look On all around her than man's ignorant view. ||94.35|| All objects were to her shapes of living selves And she perceived a message from her kin In each awakening touch of outward things. ||94.36|| Each was a symbol power, a vivid flash In the circuit of infinities half-known; Nothing was alien or inanimate, Nothing without its meaning or its call, ||94.37|| For with a greater Nature she was one.... ||94.38||
The art the Mother had been teaching me was not all roses and ribbons. I found the technique too hard to grasp. I did not have the sense of perspective and colour and scarcely knew how to observe properly. Above all I did not have patience. My fault was: I never looked at objects carefully while painting. It was annoying and irritating to move my head every now and then from the object to the board on which I was painting. I was quite at a loss to understand the meaning of this wonderful teaching. Once again the inferiority complex engulfed me. I went to the Mother in her apartment in the Ashram and told her: "Mother, I have decided to give up painting. It is beyond my capacity to follow your technique." She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked at my face and said forcefully:
I say, will you paint or not?
I just nodded meekly. She raised my face towards her and regarded my tear-filled eyes. Then she embraced me and said:
All right, my child.
After this she gave me the flower Hibiscus Mutabilis—"Divine Grace—Thy goodness is infinite. We bow before Thee in gratitude."
The Mother has explained about the Art-discipline in Words of the Mother:
The discipline of Art has at its centre the same principle as the discipline of Yoga. In both the aim is to become more and more conscious; in both you have to learn to see and feel something that is beyond the ordinary vision and feeling, to go within and bring out from there deeper things. Painters have to follow a discipline for the growth of the consciousness of their eyes, which in itself is almost a Yoga. If they are true artists and try to see beyond, and use their art for the expression of the inner world, they grow in consciousness by this concentration, which is not other than the consciousness given by Yoga.
Why then should not Yogic consciousness be a help to artistic creation?
After that the Mother started sending me numerous objects from her rare collections for painting, and also many varieties of exquisite flowers, along with her own sketches, in order to show me their right composition and perspective.
I received a letter from the Mother, dated 7th February 1957:
7.2.57
I have received your nice letter. Yes, we are going towards a painting that will be able to express the supramental truth of things.
My love and blessings and the Presence of the Divine Grace are always with you.
That same evening she explained to me:
I want you to do something new You must try to do the Future Painting in the New Light.
There is a reason why I always ask you to paint mostly on a white background. It is an attempt to express the Divine Light without shadow in the Future Painting. But everything will come in its own time.
In the Future Painting, you must not copy blindly the outer appearance without the inner vision. Never let people's ideas influence your mind and impose their advice about the Future Painting. Do not try to adopt the technique either of modern art or of old classical art. But always try to express the true inner vision of your soul and its deep impression behind everything to bring out the Eternal Truth and to express the glory of the Higher Worlds.
Truth is behind everything. For the Divine dwells in flowers, trees, animals, birds, and rivers as well as human beings—in fact, in every creation of Nature.
You must have the psychic touch to see and feel the vibrations, the sensations and the essence of the Truth in everything and that Truth is to be expressed in the Future Painting.
To paint perfectly is not an easy thing. It certainly takes time. But by the growth of consciousness you can have inspiration, intense vision, delicacy of colours, harmony and subtlety of true beauty. Then you can surely express wonderful things in painting. Otherwise painting will be a lifeless confusion.
The growth of consciousness is essential for doing marvellous paintings. I shall help you, I shall put my Force into you so that there will be a link between our two consciousnesses.
I asked the Mother: "Without seeing the Divine Light, how can I paint?" She laughed softly and said:
Child, it will come.
Now it was apparent that I had to learn numerous things from various angles in painting to step into the unknown domain of the secret and higher worlds where I could release lavishly, freely, my imaginations, reveries and inspirations to express exactly what the Mother wished me to do.
The play of colour—balanced distribution of light and shadow to bring out the perfect harmony of colour—the subtle infusion of light, the transcendent spontaneity, the magical changes of Nature—the Supreme Colourist's realism and visions—all these I had to put on canvases with vibrant, various strokes of brushes.
I was perfectly aware that it was not going to be easy, but life now beckoned me along strange paths which I must tread. There was no turning back since I had committed myself to the spiritual life and the higher artistic sphere.
The Mother has stated:
If you want art to be true and highest art, it must be the expression of a Divine World brought down into this material world.
She valued true feeling and right consciousness more than only precise and decorative work without vibrations and vividness. She put stress on "White Light without shadow". It is the vibration of Light which alone can give life and colour to every scene painted.
The Mother gave a proper training to my hands. In 1956 she asked me, as I have stated already, to clean the inside of her two carved cupboards which are in the Meditation Hall upstairs, so that I might learn to hold the most precious, delicate and fragile objects with steadiness, great care and concentration. She made my hands conscious, receptive and sensitive by putting her Force, Light and Consciousness into them. She also sent me thousands of the most exquisite picture-cards, so that I might perceive and grasp their beauties and obtain inspiration from Nature: trees, flowers, mountains, rivers, animals and so on. These cards were prepared by Champaklal. He used to paste the pictures on folders, on which the Mother wrote to me.
Surely the Mother did not take up the Savitri work abruptly. She educated me both outwardly and inwardly, knowing that these types of paintings were not of the common kind. This training went on for years with patience and perseverance. Nobody knew of it!
There was in me an overwhelming disappointment, a sense of disillusionment and bitterness. But my soul persisted to go on—no matter how many hideous phases and setbacks I had to face. I would not budge from this life and the work the Mother had entrusted to me. I sent a letter to her about my determination. She responded:
Indeed I am very glad of your resolution, the firmness with which you carried it out and the strength of your will.
I fully agree with your nice letter and appreciate the decision you have taken.
You can rely entirely on the Divine Grace as well as my love and my blessings that will lead you without fail to your goal.
On 15th February 1957 when the Mother saw my painting of the Chinese vase, she exclaimed:
It is excellent, you are getting on quite well with painting. By August, we shall have a good collection. Then there will be an exhibition of your paintings.
I cried: "Oh, but I have just started painting. Is it possible to exhibit my paintings which are hardly satisfactory?"
She consoled me:
I have already planned how to arrange the paintings in the exhibition. It is a happy progress—whatever people may say or think. It is a miraculous progress.
I received from the Mother a card with these words:
Here is a Japanese picture painted on a very thin sheet of bamboo. I am sending you also the pink dahlia for painting.
My love and blessings and the Presence of the Divine Grace are constantly with you.
Since she did not mention the background I painted the flower against a white background. When she saw the painting in the evening her eyes lit up with admiration. She said:
You are progressing steadily. It is good. The Consciousness and Force are there. They need the proper instrument through which they can act.
If the instrument is not receptive and good, then they cannot possibly express themselves.
For example, a great musician has a piano but owing to the bad tuning he cannot play on it in spite of his wonderful talent.
Similarly the Divine Force, the Divine Consciousness and the Divine Grace cannot work if the instruments are not proper
The Mother never failed to encourage me. On 19th February 1957 she sent me a beautiful card depicting her coloured photograph. Her words were:
19.2.57
This is to say to my sweet child, on the occasion of my birthday, how glad I am of the progress she is making both spiritually and in her painting—and to assure her of my constant and affectionate help so that this progress will increase without stop.
My love and blessings and the Presence of the Divine Grace never leave you.
The early paintings which I did under the direct guidance of the Mother were hung in the Darshan Room where Sri Aurobindo and the Mother gave Darshan four times a year: 21st February, 15th August, 24th April and 24th November. On Saturday, 27th July 1957 the Mother called me along with two other artists, Jayantilal and Krishnalal. Then she herself selected 15 paintings which she wanted to exhibit on 15th August together with the paintings of other artists. The Mother explained to the artists how my paintings should be displayed, especially the three paintings (1) Buddha, (2) Kwannon—the Japanese Goddess of Mercy and (3) White Dahlia. She said:
These three paintings must be kept separately from the rest of the paintings and underneath them must be written: "These are meant for concentration."
On 15th August 1957 in the afternoon the Mother declared open the exhibition of paintings and photography. She invited me along with other artists. When she saw my paintings, her eyes sparkled with joy and admiration. Her charming smile left me mute with profound gratitude. Then the Mother went to other rooms to see the Third Pondicherry International Salon of Photography which had been sponsored by the Sri Aurobindo Ashram photographers. I remember that the Mother had sent me several snaps of chosen photographs, as cards prepared by Champaklal, her personal attendant, on which she had written messages and her perpetual love and blessings.
The Mother's view of photography was:
Photography is an art when the photographer is an artist.
Later the Mother informed her doctor, Dr. Sanyal, who was professor of Clinical Surgery, Calcutta Medical College, regarding my painting:
You see, the paintings in the front Hall were of my own student, Huta.
My Divine Teacher was very proud of me. As a matter of fact, to have an exhibition of my paintings was incredible. I had just started painting. But there is nothing impossible for the Divine Grace!
O Nature, Material Mother, thou hast said that thou wilt collaborate and there is no limit to the splendour of this collaboration.
I recall this wonderful message very vividly:
On 8th October 1957, a Tuesday, the rain was pelting down and rivers of water were streaming along the sides of the lanes. The rain abated a little in the evening. I went to the Mother. I found her room full of warmth and soothing vibrations which were accentuated by the fragrance of the flowers.
The Mother and I meditated for quite some time. During the meditation I observed that she opened her shining eyes again and again. Her happy smile brightened her face. Now she closed her eyes and plunged into a deep contemplation.
She awoke and dreamily wrote something on a piece of paper. A cheerful and contented smile hovered on her lips when she said:
You are a lucky girl to be here. You know, Mother Nature came to me just now to give her full consent to collaborate with spirituality.
Instantly the whole picture of the Mother's gestures during her meditation came into the frame of my mind, and I understood why she felt happy.
Then she showed me her writing and said:
This will be the Message of the New Year Child, do not tell anybody.
I assured her that I would not breathe a word to anyone.
The Message was:
O Nature, material Mother, thou hast said that thou wilt collaborate and there is no limit to the splendour of this collaboration.
Then the Mother gave me a short explanation. After that, she clasped my hands and looked deeply into my eyes. Then she embraced me tenderly. After receiving flowers I made my way to Golconde.
The next morning the Mother sent me a huge card illustrating Shiva and Shakti. She had written on it:
This can be taken as one aspect of the collaboration between the Spiritual Power and the Material Nature.
I sent her the report of what she had said the previous evening. It ran:
Nature is always going on her own ways. Spiritual things also are going on their own ways. Nature and Spirituality do not go together. There has been no collaboration so far between them but always hostility towards each other.
When the New Year begins there will be an endless collaboration between them. There will be plenitude, joy, glory and magnificence. There will be the promise of the New World, because Mother Nature—the Material Mother—has said that she would collaborate. So everyone should love her.
She wrote under my report:
Yes, it is the essence of what I told you yesterday. With my blessings
I have kept silent about the whole incident all these years.
During the evening class in the Playground, the Mother explained the New Year Message to people:
There is nothing to explain. It is an experience, something that happened, and when it happened I noted it down, and as it turned out, it occurred just at the moment when I remembered that I had to write something for the year—which was next year at that time, that is, the year which begins today. When I remembered that I had to write something—not because of that, but simultaneously—this experience came, and when I noted it down, I realised that it was... it was the message for this year!
Days passed. It was 24th November 1957—The Realisation Day. The Mother sent me a card indicating two pretty Dahlias—mauve-pink and orange-yellow—together with these words:
To My dear little child Huta With all my love and protection. Àtout à l'heure.
Swarms of people went to the Meditation Hall upstairs to receive the Message and blessings from the Mother. I followed suit. The Message read:
Who is the superman? He who can rise above this matter-regarding broken mental human unit and possess himself universalised and deified in a divine force, a divine love and joy and a divine knowledge.
If thou keepest this limited human ego and thinkest thyself the superman, thou art but the fool of thy own pride, the plaything of thy own force and the instrument of thy own illusions.
In the afternoon the Mother declared open the exhibition of Indian handicrafts in the Ashram exhibition hall. She was very happy and expressed her satisfaction with the whole show. When she left I saw her blue-grey eyes sweep over me with a brief but all-embracing love.
The next morning a lovely card came from the Mother, depicting various coloured flowers—Gazania—"Seeking for clarity—likes to say clearly what has to be said." She had written on it:
25.11.57
To My dear little child Huta
In appreciation of her so excellent work and artistic taste.
With all my love, steady cheerfulness, quiet strength and sweet compassion
In the Bulletin February 1958, p. 114 all about this exhibition was recounted thus:
On the 24th November there was an exhibition of Indian Handicrafts at our Exhibition House and an interesting selection of various kinds of handicrafts in bone, ivory, brass, cloth, etc. was put on show. India is a land of handicrafts and there is a great wealth of material from which to choose. But a feature of this exhibition was the very tasteful manner in which the pieces were presented. Even simple articles like brass pots acquired an interesting look when placed in an artistic arrangement. This exhibition was very largely attended on all the days it was open.
The Mother appreciated my work at the exhibition. My memory flew back to the letter of the previous year in which she had written:
I am with you in your work which is quite successful.
It was true that without her Grace and Force nothing was and is possible.
The exhibition was now over. It took quite some time for me to rearrange everything in the Mother's Stores where I used to work.
Now I started painting a variety of flowers sent by the Mother.
On 12th December 1957 in the morning I received from the Mother a flower Punica, the Mother gave this significance to it: "Divine Love—a flower reputed to bloom even in the desert." Also, chrysanthemums came along.
I painted both flowers with the new technique taught by the Mother. When she saw them, she remarked:
Oh! I like them. They are full of light and vibrations.
Then the Mother looked at me and said:
There is a German lady, Sulamith Wiilfing, who is an artist. She really does nice paintings and sends me their reproductions through Medhananda [a German Sadhak, who was in charge of the Sri Aurobindo Library]. They are mostly visions. One can similarly do the visions which are in Savitri.
And she laughed softly. She lapsed into silence for a moment or two, then spoke:
Do you know, one of your drawings on a tinted paper—a face with a white flame of aspiration—is similar to one of her paintings?
Her blue-grey eyes glistened with laughter and joy. She said:
On 20th December I shall call you in the morning and show you all the reproductions of this lady's paintings.
At that time it did not occur to my mind that the Mother had been giving hints about expressing Savitri through paintings in the future. My head was full of hotchpotch. I lived too much in an egoistic and petty physical consciousness.
If the Mother was preparing and planning for a big work, I did not take it seriously. How was I to give any thought to such a notion when impossibility was stamped on my consciousness? Besides what knowledge did I have of Savitri? I gave no response to this fantastic idea, feeling sure that the Mother would try in vain.
On the 19th I painted the chrysanthemums and white dahlias sent by the Mother. I showed her the paintings in the evening. She held my hands and said eagerly:
Child, we shall express the Supramental Truth through paintings.
And she laughed.
At that very instant a prayer surged spontaneously from my heart. I urged:
"O, Mother, let your will be done."
The Mother pressed my hands and affirmed:
Yes.
I did not realise at that moment what I had babbled out. But later at night I became aware and chided myself:
"Fool, do you think that to express the Supramental Truth is an easy thing? Stupid, the Mother was talking about the higher and superior things. You have to live that Truth first."
Tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks. I knew, and knew it perfectly well, that it was impossible for me to express and create anything unique. I was incapable, helpless. Panic fluttered in my whole being like the beating of a thousand frenzied wings. A series of thoughts swarmed into my brain and vibrated intensely. Sleep was elusive.
But William Blake has said:
Great things are done when men and mountain meet. This is not done by jostling in the street.
The succeeding morning of Friday 20th December 1957 I received a big professional easel from England. It was to be installed in my apartment in Huta House, which was still in the process of renovation. In the morning the easel was taken to the Meditation Hall upstairs. The Mother entered the Hall and met me, according to the previous arrangement. Her eyes widened when she saw the easel. She examined it very meticulously, and expressed her happiness. Then instead of sitting in her usual chair, she sat in one of the chairs which were against the wall on the right side of her high-backed carved chair. She asked me to sit on a chair beside her. I refused and sat near her feet.
The Mother showed me quite a number of reproductions of the German lady's paintings. They were indeed inspiring.
I exclaimed: "Mother, do you remember, you sent me one of these reproductions? It depicted a beautiful new-born baby sleeping in the heart of a luminous rose."
She smiled and nodded. Afterwards she took my hands into hers and went into a profound meditation. I thought it never-ending. It lasted more than an hour. I was completely indrawn, feeling within me a comforting peace and deep silence. But suddenly I was startled. The Mother slapped my hands very hard. Instantly I opened my eyes and looked at her inquiringly. She leaned from her chair, caressed my hands tenderly, joined them and said with a smile:
Do not be alarmed, my child, I have now filled your hands with consciousness, light, force and skill.
Then she gazed at my hands intently for a few seconds and patted them once again.
The wonderful boon she gave me was not fantasy or imagination, but reality. She made my hands conscious and receptive.
In the evening once more the Mother and I meditated together.
At night numerous questions arose in my head: "Why does the Mother take so much trouble? Why me and not others? What intention is in her mind?" There was a train of "Whys" without clear answers.
The year 1958 began. The New Year Message which the Mother gave was humming all around:
1958
On 9th February 1958 I received from the Mother a card showing a little girl lying on her stomach watching a teddy-bear leaned against a tree-trunk, with these words:
To My dear little child Huta With eternal love and constant compassion of the Divine's Grace
In the evening the Mother and I met in her room at the Playground. She looked at me for a few seconds and plunged into a deep concentration. I couldn't care less, didn't bother to respond, didn't contemplate. My vagrant thoughts rambled on. She was serenely peaceful, unruffled, untouched. She opened her eyes and spoke with great regret:
Just now I saw beautiful luminous beings from above bringing precious gifts for you. They wished to enter your whole being with these boons. But unhappily you were completely shut up and denied them. So they went back where they came from.
There were no tears in my eyes—only solid, unutterable despair. The Mother looked at me and smiled a sad smile. I had failed to collaborate, to receive, to assimilate. I was sick—very sick in my heart, in my mind, in my body. She leaned from her couch, patted my cheeks and affirmed:
The luminous beings will return one day and enter your whole being.
On 10th February 1958 I completed three years in the Ashram. The Mother had written on a Japanese card:
To My dear little child Huta With all my love and sweetest compassion. Pour une bonne fête.*
In the afternoon Nolini, Amrita, Champaklal, Dyuman, Udar and his wife Mona, Maniben, some others and myself were waiting for the Mother at the gate of Huta House. For at last the renovation of my apartment had been completed. Her car approached driven by Pavitra with Pranab beside him. The Mother asked Pranab to remain in the car.
Along with all of us she climbed the long red staircase. The key was in the Yale lock which she turned, declaring my apartment open. The door led to my studio. The Mother sat on a revolving chair and did my portrait on a canvas board, placed on the easel. Her skilful hand took no more than a few moments to finish it.
Underneath it she wrote:
Bienvenue dans la belle maison. Bonne Fête pour la 3e fois.
10.2.58
(Welcome to the beautiful house. Happy Birthday for the 3rd time.)
She regarded her work with an amused sparkle in her eyes, then said:
Ah! In this sketch your head looks like a philosopher's head.
Her pleasant laugh rang out and set us all laughing.
The Mother saw and examined each and every thing minutely, including the roof-garden of my apartment. She expressed her happiness at the whole set-up. Then the Mother asked everyone to leave the apartment and wait for her downstairs. Champaklal, who carried a crystal bowl of white roses, gave it to the Mother and left.
Now she and I were alone in my apartment. We went into the Meditation Room. Her glance fell on her own portrait which she had done the previous year and had asked me to keep in this room when my apartment would be ready. She smiled happily and placed the bowl on the altar where photographs of Sri Aurobindo and herself, chosen by her, had been installed. Her signature was visible on her picture. Then she took her seat on a chair specially made for her with light-blue velvet cushions. She put her feet on a foot-stool. First she looked intently at the photographs, and closed her eyes for a few minutes. Then with open eyes she meditated for half an hour. I sat near her chair, watching and thinking. She turned her face towards me and promised:
Child, Sri Aurobindo and I will be here for all twenty-four hours. Whenever you feel lonely, miserable and sad, just sit here and you will be all right.
She got up from the chair, held me close and kissed my forehead. Then she put her arm around my shoulders and we went down. I was silent. The Mother must have seen and felt my soul's gratitude in my eyes when on parting I waved her au revoir. The people who visited my apartment were all praise and admiration for my abode. I thanked them all.
After the Mother had played tennis, she went to the Playground. Before the Translation Class, she called me and said enthusiastically:
Child, I really like your house. It is so peaceful and quiet. I will come to your apartment every night in my subtle body.
With a smile she added:
When Yogis and Saints are disturbed, they at once meditate and find peace again. But there is also a special Grace: then you have concrete peace and nothing can affect you.
The mind and the vital give constant trouble and disturbance when they act under the impulse of Falsehood.
When you have inner strength, when there is no more ego, the Power and Light can come and fill your whole being. After that you can remain absolutely in peace and calm.
The next morning, as always, a card and white roses came from the Mother.
It was pretty difficult to leave Golconde, because in my apartment I would be all alone. I felt extremely dejected. But I could not help it—I decided to leave Golconde the very next day: 12th February. I got busy packing my belongings in a small case with tears in my eyes. In the evening I expressed my feeling to the Mother: "I feel awful to leave Golconde where I have stayed exactly three years. Mother, I do not really know how I will manage to run my apartment. I will certainly be lonely. What should I do?" My eyes glazed with sudden tears. She drifted into a trance. On waking she spoke soothingly:
Last night I went out in my subtle body. I took your consciousness from Golconde and brought it into your new apartment. It was so quiet and packed with a peaceful atmosphere. I sat on a divan in your sitting room as I had sat in reality when I had declared the apartment open yesterday.
You know, mon petit, the sitting room was filled with those beings whom you had drawn in your note-books on tinted papers. They came one by one from the books which are with me now, and assembled in the sitting mom. I wanted to be sure whether they were real. So I closed my eyes and saw with an occult eye that the books were absolutely blank, because the beings were sitting with us. We all meditated for half an hour. After that, I took back your consciousness to Golconde. When I came back to my apartment, I saw that those figures had returned to the books. Truly it was very nice.
I was amazed to learn all this from the Mother and wondered how the beings I had drawn could come out from the books. But I had heard many a time the Mother saying, after seeing the sketches and giving them meanings, that they were living. Spiritual occultism and its mysteries are incalculable. Much later, the Mother gave back to me all the note-books of drawings and asked me to keep them intact and preserve them preciously.
She held my hands and looked at me, her eyes shining like shimmering onyx. I raised my eyes to meet hers, and said: "Mother, I don't understand why in spite of my disbelief, scepticism, lack of faith, I pine for the Divine and that ardency brings tears to my eyes. It will definitely take ages for me to realise the truth of occult things and read the riddle of this life. Sometimes without rhyme or reason I weep. What is the cause? Am I mad?"
Her face broke into laughter when she answered:
No, my child. Tears sometimes fill your eyes when you have the intensity of Truth in you.
Everything was too much for me to grasp.
The following morning I received a card from the Mother, depicting a moonlit river; a number of deer stood on its bank. She had written on the card:
With a quiet and strong peace of eternal compassion
Alas! Peace? Where was it? It was not easy to obtain the divine peace. I had to pay a heavy price for that blissful peace. I had been desperate to get it back ever since I had lost it. The Mother had given me a unique experience in 1956 only for half an hour or so. I felt the pain of the loss almost beyond bearing and then the inability to achieve that state. Dull depression, anguished heart and restless mind had pinned me down for the past two weeks.
Indeed, with much regret I went to stay in my new house. I was totally at a loss in my big apartment. I did not really know where to start and where to end. I flung myself across my bed and lay there, too stunned by the swift passage of events and my own emotional turmoil even to cry.
I wanted to forget my difficulties, troubles and sufferings. So more and more I occupied myself in drawing pictures in my note-books. I sent some of them to the Mother. She remarked:
These pictures, as usual, are very good and full of promise for .future realisation.
Realisation? All these words seemed void, vain. How could I ever realise anything when I had lost peace of mind?
I started a new series of drawings. They were the expression of my psychic being. The Mother concentrated on them and wrote their significances which were too mystifying for me.
The following Message, given to me by the Mother, appealed to me very much:
The Next Step The Supramental world exists permanently and I am there permanently in a Supramental body. Now, I know that what is lacking for the two worlds to unite in a constant and conscious relation is an intermediate zone between the physical world as it is and the Supramental world as it is. It is this zone that remains to be built, simultaneously in the individual consciousness and the objective world, and is being built. When I used to speak formerly of the new world which is being created, it was of this intermediary zone that I was speaking. And in the same way when I am on this side, that is, in the field of the physical consciousness, and see the Supramental Power, the Supramental Light and substance penetrating continuously into Matter, I can say that this zone is being erected. 19.2.1958 The Mother
The Next Step
The Supramental world exists permanently and I am there permanently in a Supramental body. Now, I know that what is lacking for the two worlds to unite in a constant and conscious relation is an intermediate zone between the physical world as it is and the Supramental world as it is. It is this zone that remains to be built, simultaneously in the individual consciousness and the objective world, and is being built.
When I used to speak formerly of the new world which is being created, it was of this intermediary zone that I was speaking. And in the same way when I am on this side, that is, in the field of the physical consciousness, and see the Supramental Power, the Supramental Light and substance penetrating continuously into Matter, I can say that this zone is being erected.
19.2.1958
The Mother
My health became worse than ever. It was the nagging anxiety and persistent emotion that had sapped my strength. Now I could not eat at all. My body failed to stand even liquid food. The Mother knew my situation. I received a letter from her saying:
I have something to tell you and will see you this evening at the Playground—come at 6.20. I shall wait for you.
My love and blessings
I went to her. She gathered me tenderly into her arms and soothed me for quite a long time with compassionate words. She suggested to me:
Child, your health will improve and you will be all right if you will go to Africa for a few months for a change. You know I will always be with you. You must become absolutely well and I know that you will.
My fourth brother, Maganbhai, who had gone to London, came to the Ashram. The Mother gave him an interview and told him about my going with him to Africa. He was glad and said to her that since he had some work in Bombay I could join him there, then we would fly to Africa. So this was arranged. Meanwhile, on 21st April 1958 the Mother wrote a letter to Laljibhai:
To Laljibhai with blessings.
As you must know, Huta is going to Africa with Maganbhai. I am writing to tell you that I have not only allowed but approved of this travel. Her body needs a change of climate and I am sure that it will do her a lot of good to pass some time in Africa. I have told her to come back here as soon as she feels strong and fit.
Hoping that all is well with you and your family.
Love and blessings for all
Before I left for East Africa, the Mother saw me in the Meditation Hall upstairs. She gave me a variety of flowers in a small yellow-gold satin bag. Then she took from a small stool nearby an orange-coloured Kashmiri silken shawl and while handing it to me, said with a smile:
Tiens, mon petit, press it close to your heart when you go to sleep and you will feel my Presence.
After that the Mother went into a trance for a short while. On waking she affirmed:
Everything will be all right.
The Mother enfolded me more closely and kissed my forehead. The soothing strength of her fingers warmly clasped mine. The parting was unutterably painful.
Interested people thought I wanted to get married—I had many distractions—I had gone nuts —I had a loose character—so the Mother was sending me away. Some even thought that I was totally possessed by the devil and had fallen out of the Mother's Grace forever. Their nasty tongues kept wagging about me.
Maganbhai and I boarded the Air India plane on Thursday 8th May 1958. The next day we reached Miwani—our huge Estate in Kenya. My parents were very much concerned about my health and welfare. My treatment began, for I had a badly enlarged liver as a result of amoebiasis.
Every night I pressed the Kashmiri shawl which the Mother had given me against my heart and slept. This sacred shawl has a magnificent background. In Mother India February 21, 1958, pp. 7-8, it is stated:
The Mother's diary which comprised the Prayers and Meditations was started two years earlier. Every day at 5 a.m. she used to sit down to meditate near her window with a Kashmiri shawl wrapped round her. The meditation being over, she would note down her thoughts and experiences; but they were meant only for herself and she always used to lock up her diary. In 1916 she stopped writing, but on her arrival at Pondicherry in 1920 she took it up again. Later, it was only occasionally that she wrote.
During my stay in East Africa, from 11th May to 2nd September 1958, the Mother sent me three hundred and sixty hand-written quotations—her wonderful collections of sayings from various countries and times. Together with these scripts she sent me beautiful painted cards, all of them bearing her perpetual "Love and blessings". After many years these quotations were printed by me in book form under the title of Gems from the Mother to Huta.
I am presenting here the first and the last quotations in facsimile:
The Eternal Wisdom Introduction The Song of Wisdom We fight to win sublime Wisdom; therefore men call us warriors. (Book of Wisdom) This Wisdom is the principle of all things. (The Zohar)
The Eternal Wisdom
Introduction The Song of Wisdom
We fight to win sublime Wisdom; therefore men call us warriors. (Book of Wisdom)
This Wisdom is the principle of all things. (The Zohar)
That Intelligence is God within us; by that men are gods and their humanity neighbours divinity. (Hermes) Man is divine so long as he is in communion with the Eternal. (Ramakrishna) Deck thyself now with majesty and excellence and array thyself with glory and beauty. (Job) Thou belongest to the divine world. (Baha Ullah) The race of man is divine. (Pythagoras)
That Intelligence is God within us; by that men are gods and their humanity neighbours divinity. (Hermes)
Man is divine so long as he is in communion with the Eternal. (Ramakrishna)
Deck thyself now with majesty and excellence and array thyself with glory and beauty. (Job)
Thou belongest to the divine world. (Baha Ullah)
The race of man is divine. (Pythagoras)
I painted several pictures of flowers and vases, but they were not up to much, because I was unable to receive the Mother's Force and inspiration directly.
The days passed, piling themselves into weeks. At last I waved adieu to East Africa and came back to the Ashram in the middle of September 1958.
I was ready to receive the Mother at the gate of Huta House. Every nerve in my body sang a song when her car approached. She alighted from it with her heart-warming smile. After we entered my apartment she gave me a bouquet of white roses which she had brought with her. She kissed me lightly on my brow and said:
Child, I have come to greet you.
She appreciated the gifts I brought for her. When I offered to the Mother a gold ring depicting two joined hands and said that the Supreme Lord and the Soul would never separate, she admired the ring and was touched immensely.
After that we went into my Meditation Room. She made herself comfortable on her special chair which was always there, ready. I sat near it. We meditated for about half an hour. During the meditation she opened her eyes wide. They were full of lustre and power. She looked intently at the photographs of Sri Aurobindo and herself. I felt as if they were surcharged with her Force. Then we got up. She looked at me and reassured me:
Sri Aurobindo's and my Presence are here for all twenty-four hours.
Then we went down the long red staircase holding hands and with a smile of happiness. I will never forget this last visit of the Mother to my apartment. I will cherish it forever in my heart.
In my sombre thoughts I remembered those months I had spent among my people, whom I understood fairly well when I had been frequently surrounded by them. Now I was standing back as if regarding an oil painting. Everything fell into focus. What I had been scarcely aware of at that time became very
clear to me now. My attachment to them started losing its grip over me and the Mother became the breath of my life, the root of my very existence. I was convinced of this truth.
Some part in me was not satisfied with only physical fitness or with what I had been doing or had achieved. Drawing and painting were not my final aim. I wanted to get rid of the inferiority complex, I wanted to gain self-confidence, I wanted to be self-reliant and free. Above all, I wished to express myself in the New Creation. Prototype living simply bored me. My mind kept harping on these notions. As always I went to the Mother in the evening at the Playground. We usually meditated together.
Cards bearing her constant Grace, Love and blessings, white roses and "Prasad" were perpetual presents from the Mother.
I worked a little in the Mother's Private Stores. But that was not enough. I showed the Mother the paintings I had done in Africa, which I felt were not up to much. Nevertheless, the Mother liked two of them. I could not set my mind to any precise work. Days flashed by. At the end of November 1958 Laljibhai and his wife Mukta came to stay permanently in Pondicherry.
According to the Mother's decision, I was preparing to go to London. She discussed the matter with Laljibhai and my father, who was in Pondicherry at that time. I went to the Mother and expressed my feeling of doubt about whether to go abroad or not, owing to the cost of my maintenance in London. She patted my cheeks and said firmly:
Child, don't change your mind You will go to London.
For some time the Mother was not keeping well. She came down from her apartment on 9th December—Sri Aurobindo's mahasamadhi day—to contemplate at the Samadhi. The same night she had an acute attack of Herpes Zoster, which was extremely painful. The next day she was in bed, not seeing anybody except her attendants. That was the day of my departure for Africa with my father. I felt very sad. The gold locket which the Mother had wanted to give me personally, she sent through Dyuman. I went to Doctor Sanyal—the Mother's doctor—and expressed my deep shock and anxiety. I gave him a bottle of perfume for the Mother, Worth's ‘Je Reviens', and a flower of Victory—her victory in me. The name of the scent was also significant: `Je Reviens' means "I am coming back." As he took them from me the doctor said:
In spite of severe pain, the Mother remembered you and said to me: "Huta is going today."
He added:
She will soon be all right. I wish you a happy journey and success.
The Mother had asked me to go first to East Africa to get a British Passport, for that would be more helpful. I had also to sign certain papers connected with it.
The Mother sent me a card dated 22nd December 1958. She had written on it:
To My dear little child Huta with my blessings for a Happy New Year and my love for always.
Her consideration and remembrance touched my heart.
Later I was informed by Dyuman that all her activities in the Playground had been stopped for good. I had attended her French translation class on 6th December 1958—I did not know at that time that it was the last. The next day the Mother went to play tennis and to the Playground—that too was her final appearance. This phase in her life ended—and with that ended for people the easy approach to her. She was ill for over a month. But even afterwards she would not go out of the Ashram Building save on rare occasions.
Now my passport was ready. On 31st December 1958 my third brother, Paroobhai, and his wife Urmila waved me goodbye at Nairobi airport. I flew to London.
I reached London on 1st January 1959. Our Agent Mr. I. Kundle had arranged my accommodation in a convent which had a hostel where only Christian girls could stay. The nuns thought I was one of them, so they showed me their chapel which was in the basement and asked me to join the congregation early in the morning. Two nuns also took me round the place. I stood looking about me with an increasing sense of dismay and disagreement.
The occurrences of the day crowded in my head, filling my heart with despair. After a disturbed night, I woke up with a sad, sick feeling. Outside it was cloudy and cold. My spirits dropped to zero.
After my breakfast, I was called by the Rev. Mother. She was almost six feet tall and of ample proportions. She took my hand and asked me to sit in a sofa. I did. Then she inquired where I had come from and what my religion was. At once it flashed across my mind that those two nuns must have given a full account of me in advance. Moreover I had not gone to chapel. I respected Christianity but I could not be a hypocrite. I informed everything to the Rev. Mother. She was mystified but indeed had the grace to give an understanding smile. She told me that all the girls who resided in the convent had gone on holiday. When they would be back then there would be difficulty in accommodating me. I replied that I would certainly find another place.
Once again Rev. Mother called me and talked to me for quite a long time about religion. I listened to her attentively. But in my innermost heart I would not approve of anything. I gave her a few books of Sri Aurobindo along with some carved wood animals which I had brought from Africa. Finally she said with a smile: "Miss Hindocha, I like you. When you shift to another place, I do want you to come every Sunday to take tea with me." I agreed and thanked her. This was the beginning in London.
Mrs. Bee, whom some of my family members knew, was in charge of a big building in Marble Arch and she gave me one of the rooms. I had to open my account in Barclays Bank. I had received £100 from my father in Miwani (Kenya) to start with. I had to do everything by myself regarding my stay and study. Thus gradually I gained confidence.
Sudha Gokal from South Africa met me in the plane. We became very good friends. Both of us joined the Denson Secretarial College. Each and every moment I felt the Mother's Grace guiding and protecting me.
My letters were re-directed to my new residence by the nuns. Among other letters I found an envelope from Pondicherry. I opened it. It contained a lovely card from the Mother showing a gleaming golden-yellow figure of a lady and some heartening words.
1959
To My dear little child Huta Bonne annee!
At your arrival at London, I want you to find my best wishes for a happy stay and a good success in your studies.
Let this year bring to you the realisation of your highest hopes, and your most sincere aspirations.
With love
I was not satisfied with my studies. Distress, despondency and desolation nagged me day and night. It was not easy to put up with anything. There was a pain woven with doubts about my future. My dolorous mood matched the depressing weather.
Within my heart I knew that there was always the Mother and hope. I wrote a letter to her. She answered on 19th February:
19.2.59
My dear little child Huta
I have just received your letter in which you are asking my advice about your studies. Of course, you must follow your inspiration and do full-heartedly the work which you feel you must do. It goes without saying that whatever you choose you must do it steadily and persistently if you want to obtain a result.
In any case you can be sure that the Force will be with you to help and assist you.
With my love and blessings
She also sent the message which she would distribute to people on her birthday–21st February:
In the mind which is a creator of differential contradictions there is supposed to be a perpetual incompatibility between the transcendent and the cosmic states of the Divine—as also between the Personal and the Impersonal, the One and the Many. The supramental consciousness, on the other hand, does not raise these problems, for there the way of experience of the mental Ignorance is abolished and the basis of all things is an indefeasible unity—whatever expression is there cannot diminish or contradict this unity (which is essential and not numerical) but lives in it and by it, never losing the hold on the supracosmic Reality which it expresses. This difference between Supermind and mind is difficult to explain fully to the mind, for it contradicts the logic of the mind and substitutes a way of knowing which is SWAYAMPRAKASHA (self-revealing) and rooted in a knowledge by identity of which the mind at its best can only grasp a thin reflection or a shadow. But it makes an immense difference in the possibilities of consciousness, a difference which one can only realise, not by thought, but by experience.
Also, I received another message from the Mother:
In the eternity of becoming each Avatar is only the announcer, the forerunner of a more perfect future realisation.
And yet men have always the tendency to deify the Avatar of the past in opposition to the Avatar of the future.
Now again Sri Aurobindo has come announcing to the world the realisation of tomorrow; and again his message meets with the same opposition as of all those who preceded him.
But tomorrow will prove the truth of what he revealed and his work will be done.
21.2.59
It was amazing to get letters from India within four days!
I decided to change my college as well as my residence. Meanwhile I remembered to write to Miss Doris Tomlinson who was a devotee of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. She ran the Sri Aurobindo Study Circle in London at her place—42 Clarendon Road W.II. Promptly she telephoned me and came down to see me at Marble Arch. We were very happy to meet each other. Her voice was cultured, deep and pleasant. She invited me to be at the meeting on the 21st. I went. There were readings from Sri Aurobindo's and the Mother's books. Doris asked me to read from Prayers and Meditations this prayer:
O Divine Masten grant that this day may be for us an opening to a completer consecration to Thy law, a more integral self-giving to Thy work, grant that in a communion with Thee ever deeper and more constant, we may unite always more, so that we may be Thy worthy servitors. Remove from us all egoism and mean pride, all covetousness and obscurity, so that all aflame with Thy divine love, we may be Thy torches in this world.
O Lord, eternal Master, enlighten us, guide our steps, show us the way towards the realisation of Thy law, towards the accomplishment of Thy work
O Lord, become the sovereign Master of our lives and dispel all the darkness which can still prevent us from seeing and constantly communing with Thee.
Liberate us from all ignorance, liberate us from ourselves that we may open wide the doors of Thy glorious manifestation.
While I was reading, my soul stirred and my eyes filled with tears.
They admired my reading. But I knew that it would take me years to read and speak like English people.
There was a spiritual discussion followed by meditation. The meeting ended with tea, cakes, biscuits and sandwiches. Miss Partridge—a close friend of Doris—would speak about tea: "We English, where will we be without our tea?"
Every fortnight there was a meeting which I attended without fail, because I met some very interesting people and enjoyed exchanging views about ideals and spirituality. Moreover I got peace. Sudha never came. I did not know why.
After a few meetings, Doris arranged my reading and conversation classes with Miss Partridge so that I might improve my English and its accent. I kept going to her house for quite some time.
Winter's reign still prevailed. On two or three Sundays Sudha accompanied me to tea with the Rev. Mother of the Convent where I had first stayed. There we were introduced to many girls.
The Mother sent me an encouraging letter dated 10th March:
My dear little child Huta,
I have received all your letters. Do not be discouraged because of difficulties. Whenever one wants to achieve something in life, difficulties come. Take them as a discipline (tapasya) to make you strong and you will more easily overcome them.
My love, help and blessings are always with you.
Not a single day did I forget my goal. The flame of aspiration was burning steadily, softly, in the depth of my heart. The Mother had ways and means to develop my consciousness. So everything was shaping according to her Will. Her Force prepared me to face all kinds of experiences which were essential to make me strong and spirited.
I should like to quote Pythagoras on the vicissitudes of life:
It is all necessary for development of the soul. Whoever fathomed that truth fathomed the very heart of the Great Mystery.
I received from the Mother a painted card dated 23rd March, showing white roses, together with her words:
To My dear little child Huta,
I have received your letters and am always with you.
With all my love and blessings
She also sent me the following message of 29th March—the anniversary of her arrival in Pondicherry. It was a quotation from Sri Aurobindo:
It is not perhaps very useful to forecast by the mind what will be the precise results of the descent of a supramental consciousness into a world in which up to now the mental intelligence has been the highest evolutionary product and leading power. For the supermind is a consciousness which will work in a very different way from the mind and the lines laid down for it by the latter are not likely to be respected by a greater energy in its self-organisation and operation here.
The sun was out and the cold winds were replaced by the first breath of Spring. This was my happiest moment after the gloom. Moreover, the Mother sent me with her love and blessings the message of 4th April—the anniversary of Sri Aurobindo's arrival day in Pondicherry:
Let the new birth become manifest in your heart and radiate in calm and joy and take up all the parts of your being, mind and vision and will and feeling and life and body. Let each date in your life be a date of its growth and greater completeness till all in you is the child of the Mother. Let the Light and Power and Presence envelop you and protect and cherish and foster, till all your inner and outer existence is one movement and an expression of its peace and strength and Ananda.
My soul steeped itself in these luminous blessed words of Sri Aurobindo.
On 13th April 1959 the Mother sent me a painted card along with these words:
13.4.59
Yesterday I went to lay the first stone of the Sugar Mill.
Here is a painted view of the place. I am sending it to you with all my love and blessings.
Among other letters I found Dyuman's informative letter which said that the Mother had gone to the site of the Sugar Mill at Sacrur, twelve miles from Pondicherry and laid the foundation stone which was of pink granite. The Mother's message in her own hand was engraved on it.
Faithfulness is the sure basis of success.
The Mother sent me beforehand the message of 24th April with her love and blessings. It ran in Sri Aurobindo's words:
The divine perfection is always above us; but, for man to become divine in consciousness and act and to live inwardly and outwardly the divine life is what is meant by spirituality; all lesser meanings given to the word are inadequate, fumbling or impostures.
I pondered over the message. My soul must have understood but my mental being groped in vain.
My new college at Heath House opened on 28th April 1959. I also changed my residence to Mercury House in Swiss Cottage.
I loathed shorthand. The fifteen lessons had already been taught and soon there was to be a speed-test. This needed hard work. There was so much to do.
I was almost at the end of my resources. I penned a letter to the Mother about my trip and my studies.
Her answer came on a card showing daffodils. It was dated 29th May 1959:
To My dear little child,
I have received your pretty card and nice letter.
I can only say that stability and perseverance are indispensable for success — but in all cases the Divine Grace is there helping those who call with trust and faith.
Trust and faith in the Divine fluctuated. There were severe struggles and much tension which sometimes blotted out the memory of the Mother. Now dull depression settled on me.
The Mother never failed to send me cards, letters, Messages, the Bulletin and Mother India. She was in constant touch with me outwardly as well as inwardly. I received a card from her dated 21.6.1959. On it I found her own writing, with love and blessings:
Never forget that you are not alone. The Divine is with you helping and guiding you. He is the companion who never fails, the friend whose love comforts and strengthens. Have faith and He will do everything for you.
Now it was July—the month of rich blossoms. The Mother sent me a card dated 4th July 1959, which depicted a painted pigeon. She inscribed:
I have received all your nice letters and am glad that your studies are going on well. I was waiting for the arrival of your brother to tell you that I had got the things you sent me—but he has not yet come.
Doris took me to the Victoria and Albert Museum.
The Victoria and Albert Museum is a beautiful building in the Renaissance style which was first built in 1857. The present building was opened in 1909 by King Edward VII. It is the national museum of industrial art, illustrating the crafts of all nations at various periods—all kinds of metal work from gold to steel, pottery and glass, Gothic tapestry, wood-carving and antique furniture, drawings, paintings, miniatures of the Tudor age. I was lost in all this magnificent display of curios.
I liked the terracotta virgin with the laughing child and a Kuan-yin figure in painted and gilded wood which was Chinese, a lady holding a minor which was an earthenware Chinese figure, the Virgin of Sorrows in carved and painted wood, the Angel of the Annunciation and quite a number of other paintings by the Great Masters and their students. Raphael's cartoons were engaging. The oil painting of J.M.W. Turner depicting Venice was very attractive. My memory winged back to my trip to Venice in 1952. A gondola glided down the Grand Canal, a broad ribbon of silver before me, mirroring the blue sky. Night with the million stars, the moonlight and the music of the gondolier. It was a memorable experience. The beauty of Venetian glassware and the grandeur of the colossal Cathedral of St. Mark's and the Doge's Palace are still vivid in my mind. I also recollected how often the Mother used to send me reproductions of Turner's paintings in which he had fused glorious colours on canvas and lavished his wondrous, lively imagination.
On 24th July 1959 my College closed for two months. During that time I was planning to join several classes of my choice. Sudha was already off on a continental tour with her people, who came from South Africa.
One Saturday morning I asked Ramesh Panikar—an engineering student whom Sudha and I met at East Africa House—to join me to see the Tate Gallery, which had been opened in 1897. It is a branch of the National Gallery, and houses the most representative collection of modern paintings in Europe. The Gallery owes its existence to Sir Henry Tate, who not only presented his collection of pictures, valued at £75,000, to the nation, but also contributed £80,000 towards the cost of the building.
We were delighted to see masterpieces—especially the paintings of Joshua Reynolds, William Blake, William Turner, Auguste Renoir, Constable, Wilson, Sargent and Sickert. I was impressed by the painting Heads of Angels by Reynolds. As a matter of fact, he had painted his daughter in different poses. I told Ramesh, pointing to that painting: "The Mother sent me a reproduction of this painting when I was in Pondicherry. I have got a huge collection of various reproductions of paintings given to me by the Mother. Now I am seeing the original paintings. I am really happy."
The pictures of William Blake were mystically ethereal. He was a great well-known artist as well as a renowned poet in the English language. Not content to see his poems only in a written or printed form, he clothed them in design and colour so that each poem-picture formed an artistic whole.
Also there were rooms which displayed modern English paintings, and we saw a section on sculpture which included Rodin's work.
There was an exhibition of abstract and modern painting in one of the halls. After we had paid four shillings, we entered it and started looking around in sheer bewilderment, for we were left to our own devices to derive the meaning of what we saw. We racked our brains desperately—the more we tried to make out the significance, the more we got muddled. Finally we gave up for fear of a headache and left the room in total disappointment. The following jokes are to the point:
"And this, I suppose, is one of those hideous caricatures you call modern art."
"Nope, that's just a mirror." Critic: "Ah! And what is this? It is superb! What soul, what charm, what expression!" Artist: "Yeah! That's where I clean the paint off my brushes!"
"Nope, that's just a mirror."
Critic: "Ah! And what is this? It is superb! What soul, what charm, what expression!"
Artist: "Yeah! That's where I clean the paint off my brushes!"
In July 1959 I joined the evening classes at the Constance Spry School of Flower Arrangement. There were quite a number of young women and girls. Miss Simmons was our teacher, a nice person. After all the lessons, we had to do practicals. So we practiced in numberless ways. Each composition emphasised its proper place by its elegance and enchantment.
One fine evening Miss Simmons gave us different kinds of vases, masses of flowers and asked us to arrange them. This was our test and competition. We had to finish the decoration in record time.
I was given an urn with a crumpled mesh, which I filled with water. Then I started arranging. I kept in my mind the need, of good line, good colour-blending and satisfying balance. I felt that the right effect was achieved with comparatively few flowers and helped by the use of dark-coloured leaves.
Miss Simmons went to each of us and examined our compositions with keen eyes. Then she turned to the ladies, pointing to my vase and said: "Look at this arrangement. It is perfect." Then with a smile she congratulated me. I thanked her. All the ladies clustered round my arrangement and asked many questions. What was I to do except smile?
As a matter of fact, I did not realise how the whole thing had been done. But I knew how the Mother had taught me painting and led me to acquire colour-sense and made me understand the sensitivities of colour-combinations. Praise to Her...
One of the members in Mercury House was Mr. King, who was studying the History of Art in one of the best colleges. He talked about music and art. He also showed me beautiful rare books about the Great Masters and their lives, containing also reproductions of their paintings which entranced me. Occasionally he made me listen to the music of famous composers. I heard it absorbedly. My mind winged back to those days when I had listened to the music during the Mother's distribution of eatables at the Playground. I enjoyed music and art exceedingly. They were and are my favourite subjects. Music reminds me of a real-life joke in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram:
An English lady asked a foreigner to look at the Ashram notice board for her and tell her which music would be played that night in the Library Hall. He came and told her: "Hungarian Raspberry!" The lady gave a shout of laughter and corrected him: "Oh, no, it must be Hungarian Rhapsody."
The Mother sent a card dated 5th August 1959, with a quotation from her own writings:
It is only by remaining perfectly peaceful and calm, with an unshakable confidence and faith in the Divine Grace, that you will allow circumstances to be as good as they can be. The very best happens always to those who have put their entire trust in the Divine and in the Divine alone.
She had signed the card in red ink and added "P.T.O." I smiled. She had written on the back of the card:
I have received all your letters and the nice little tortoise which I have kept on my table near me.
Be quiet and confident and try to find me inside yourself it will help you to sleep.
In answer to my letter the Mother wrote on 12th August 1959:
Received your letter of the 7th and I am sending this at once as you were asking for news, instead of the 15th as I expected to do.
With love and blessings
She meant by "this" the message of 15th August, anniversary of Sri Aurobindo's birthday. It ran:
All is created by the Supreme Goddess; the Supreme and Original Mahashakti, all proceeds from her all lives by her all lives in her even as she lives in all. All wisdom and knowledge are her wisdom and knowledge, all power is her power, all will and force her will and force, all action is her action, all movement her movement. All beings are portions of her power of existence.
The message came just in time—on 15th August when I was to go to Doris's house for our special meeting and meditation. The scent of sandalwood incense-sticks pervaded the room faintly. There were many people including my friends. I made them all read the message. They appreciated it immensely. Doris introduced me to Aravinda Basu and his son Sudipta (Babi). He introduced me to Mrs. Margaret Fletcher who was also there. Suddenly I felt as if I had known her for ages. After the prayers and meditation we lingered on for tea.
Aravinda invited me to go to Durham with him and his son. Doris advised me to go out of London for a change. I told them that I would let them know as Aravinda was to stay up to 1st September. Mrs. Margaret Fletcher gave me her address—138 Harley Street, London W.I, and asked me to visit her whenever I felt like it. I thanked her and said that I would do so gladly.
It was a beautiful summer evening with the long day not yet passed. I stood by the French window and gazed enraptured at the lovely garden. The air was perfumed with flowers. Doris remarked that after seventeen years or so they had the warmest nicest summer. Then we all parted with amicable goodbyes.
Days rolled on. The course in flower arrangement was over.
It was a fine sunny day, 2nd September 1959. Aravinda Basu, his son Sudipta (Sabi) and I left London for Durham. We started from King's Cross station. Aravinda and Babi took me round. What I learnt about Durham was as follows:
The Bishop of Durham used to be Prince Bishop, because he was responsible for the political, military and religious affairs of the County Palatinate. Durham used to be a stronghold of the English against the invading Scots. It is two and a half hours from Edinburgh. The Bishop had a castle in the city which is the capital of County Durham. His See is the third most important in the Church of England—that is, after the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Archbishop of York. His castle has been given over to the University of Durham, which is now renamed University College. He has now a castle which is his residence in Bishop Auckland, about twenty miles from Durham. Durham University is the third oldest in England after Oxford and Cambridge, and like them it is residential. As is to be expected, this University has a very good and strong School of Theology.
The University of Durham at the time I visited it in September 1959 had two branches—one in Durham and the other in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. In fact, the Durham division was called Durham College. Both divisions were autonomous and the head of one was called The Warden and the head of the other, the Provost. Each became Vice-Chancellor by rotation. Newcastle-Upon-Tyne is now a separate University.
The then Warden of the Durham section, Sir James Duff, a very well-known educationist in Great Britain, was a member of the University Education Commission appointed by the Government of India, of which Prof. S. Radhakrishnan was the Chairman.
Aravinda Basu had been there since 1953 as Spalding Lecturer in Indian Philosophy and Religion in the School of Oriental Studies in the Durham College. He organised the Section of Indian Studies there. He had gone there with the Mother's approval and blessings. While I was visiting the School of Oriental Studies in Durham, Aravinda took me to the Indian Section of the Library in the School, showed me around and pointed out many valuable and rare Sanskrit books including the first printed Edition of the Rigveda published by Max Muller. The Indian Section was quite well-equipped and was expanding, I was fascinated to see the books in the Section of Egyptology—some of them were so huge that they could only be lifted by four persons!
Babi took me to several places. The most striking were the Castle and the Cathedral.
On the morning of 10th September 1959, I telephoned Doris and informed her that I had enjoyed my stay at Durham. She was very pleased and invited me to lunch. She added that we would visit the National Gallery. I accepted her proposal with thanks. Doris said about the National Gallery:
The present building was begun in 1832, and completed six years later. It was actually the home of both the Royal Academy and the National Collection until 1869. Two eminent collectors, Sir George Beaumont and W. Holwell Carre, presented their exclusive collections to the nation.
It was interesting to know how it coincided with the sale of the collection of a city broker Julius Angerstain. Lord Liverpool's Government purchased in April 1824 thirty-eight paintings worth £56,0001/- to start with. This was the beginning of the National Gallery.
We entered the hall. I had a very strong feeling of warmth—something living—as if some spirit hovered like a guardian angel. I was spellbound to see the works of Leonardo da Vinci—especially "The Virgin of the Rocks" and "The Virgin and Child with St. Anne and John the Baptist." His self-portrait expressed his extraordinary personality and profoundness. Doris told me:
There are approximately nine hundred pictures by Leonardo da Vinci in the world—out of them some six hundred are in the possession of the Queen of England including a huge collection of his drawings.
When I visited the National Gallery it contained about two thousand pictures, of which only a portion were exhibited. I watched an artist copy a painting of a woman in one of the halls. He imitated it amazingly well.
The paintings of Velazquez—"The Toilet of Venus (Rokeby Venus)" and "The Immaculate Conception"—were charming. Then there was an attractive painting by Botticelli—"Venus and Mars". Matteo di Giovanni expressed in painting "The Assumption of the Virgin", which was ethereal. I viewed minutely the various portraits of great, noble ladies, who had placid faces—so content with their pearls, diamonds, laces and satin gowns.
My eyes could not escape the enchanting pictures by Rembrandt, Carlo Crivelli, Paul Cezanne, William Hogarth, Titian, Correggio, Anthony Van Dyck, Edouard Manet, Raphael, Watteau, Turner, Reynolds, Auguste Renoir and so forth. I was totally enthralled by the grandeur of the Great Masters; I ran out of all adjectives and accurate exclamations of praise and surprise.
Michelangelo's half-finished painting "Madonna and Child with St. John and Angels" was very expressive. But I was bored by the repeating themes: Virgin and Child, Madonna and Child, Crucifixion of Christ. Perhaps during that era the mental vision and imagination were set to a certain level of consciousness.
It was fascinating to see the portrait of Doge Leonardo Lorendan done by Giovanni Bellini. The artist brought out the Doge's true characteristic force of determination such as his native city Venice had great need of at the time; all Europe was plotting and conspiring against Venice in the years of his reign (1501-1521). His son was in love with his cousin Cluet, daughter of the Doge's power-hungry brother who turned against the Doge and grabbed the throne. The Doge's brother was terribly annoyed and furious when he learnt of his daughter's affair. Cluet stood her ground—refused to desert her cousin. So he imprisoned Cluet and her cousin. Finally he got them thrown out of a high window into the river. Thus he ended their lives.
The Mother had once said that Cluet had been one of her incarnations. Further she explained in one of her talks all about her birth as Cluet. When she was in Venice and visited the Doge's palace and the prison she at once recognised the scrawl made by her on the walls of the jail.
She had so many births—so many experiences which are beyond our comprehension.
I rang up and apprised Mrs. Margaret Fletcher of my return from Durham. She was glad and asked me to tea. I went to her apartment which was very cosy and compact. I called her Aunt Margaret. Her husband Peter was there. He was a psychiatrist in his sixties. Aunt gave a word-picture of me to him. We instantly became friends. She had prepared an assortment of sandwiches, cakes, scones and almond biscuits—followed by the inevitable English tea which I simply relished. She and Uncle Peter asked me a hundred and one questions about my excursion to Durham.
It was an advantage to hear perfect cultured King's English when they talked to each other and to me. Whenever I informed Aunt that I had received a letter from the Mother, she would say: "Have you? How lovely!" Her way of speaking impressed me very much. She asked me to watch out for the words starting with "O" and "Sh". She gave me a cute card on which she had inscribed: "I wash my sash in the Irish Sea." This was for me to practise so as to improve my pronunciation.
In my spontaneous letter dated 21st September 1959 I wrote to Mrs. Sarala Shah of Bombay:
"...During the summer I could not paint, although I have all the painting materials. As a matter of fact, this work needs a lot of time and concentration. But in my heart of hearts I know very well and feel sure that in the near future I shall have to spend several years in this vocation. For I will express the whole of Savitri through paintings."
My God, how could I write such a thing when I had not the vaguest idea as to what I would do in the future? Now I am really amazed! Who made me do so? Sri Aurobindo wrote in Savitri:
All was the working of an ancient plan, A way prepared by an unerring Guide. ||99.14||
Miss Doris Tomlinson reached Pondicherry on 24th October 1959. I got a letter dated 26th October from the Mother:
I have just received all the nice things you have sent through Doris with your love and I am very glad to have them.
Also there was a quotation from her own writings:
Always do the best you can and leave the result to the Supreme. Then your heart will be in peace.
At the same time I had a letter from Doris advising me to wear warm clothes and be very careful during the winter. She added:
I was so happy to see the Mother. She inquired all about your welfare and thanked me for assisting you in London. I felt really embarrassed. Did you write to the Mother? The Mother affirmed: 'Now London has come under my Consciousness.' Huta, isn't it wonderful?
October drifted into November. Raw, cold, wet weather gripped London in its remorseless fingers. Days of anxiety and uncertainty lay ahead of me. My restored confidence ebbed away. The adverse forces invariably found their means to destroy my peace. How could I ever win, with the dice so heavily loaded against me? God, if I were capable I would choke the life out of the devil. I felt unhappy and full of unrest.
I stood near my window and watched the sky darken, the ashen clouds scurry across in the wild wind. Gingerly I got ready to leave for college. Meanwhile the Mother's envelope waited for me in the pigeon-hole. I opened it and found a card which depicted frosted snow on the trunk of a big tall tree and on its branches, near a Church. Her words conveyed sweet warmth to my heart:
Bonne Fete!
Cheer up! 'All is well that ends well and the end will be all right. My love and blessings
Her assurance brought a sense of relief. My mind started clearing, the mist of depression receding. I felt that the Mother was my sole anchor in this dangerous and insecure world. Grace a toi!
I tried to open my eyes heavy with sleep, but eventually they closed firmly.
To my relief the rain ceased at the soft sunrise. The grey clouds dispersed with the first glimmer of light—with that the feeling of desolation was gone. I soaked myself in a scented hot bath, emerged refreshed, dressed leisurely, and went downstairs to eat breakfast. Then I peeped into the pigeon-hole marked H where all my post used to be kept. To my sheer joy I found a thick envelope from the Mother. I took it and rushed to my room, opened it and saw a folder—in front there was the reproduction of a sketch "Ascent to the Truth" done by her, inside on the right her own photograph in which she was clad in a sari. Her words on the left were:
To My dear little child Huta Special blessings during these days of Puja. With love
The Mother sent beforehand four messages which she was to distribute to people in the Ashram. Each of them brought me inner peace and happiness. I would like to quote them all, because they were exalting. The first was for the Durga A sthami:
The seed of Godhead sleeps in mortal hearts, The flower of Godhead grows on the world-tree: All shall discover God in self and things, But when God's messenger comes to help the world And lead the soul of earth to higher things, He too must carry the yoke he came to unloose; He too must bear the pang that he would heal; Exempt and unafflicted by earth's fate How shall he cure the ills he never felt? ||108.43||
The next was for Vijaya Dashami:
Misery shall pass abolished from the earth; The world shall be freed from the anger of the Beast, From the cruelty of the Titan and his pain. ||122.43|| There shall be peace and joy for ever more. ||122.44||
The following was for the Mahalakshmi Puja:
Thou shalt be one with God's bare reality And the miraculous world he has become And the diviner miracle still to be When Nature who is now unconscious God Translucent grows to the Eternal 's light, Her seeing his sight, her walk his steps of power And life is filled with a spiritual joy And Matter is the Spirit's willing bride. ||128.48||
Then finally there was a small enclosure for 31st October 1959—for the Mahakali Puja. A special blessing packet of Pomegranate flower-petals was attached inside. Beneath it the Mother had written:
To My dear little child Huta. With love and blessings
The message for the occasion was in Sri Aurobindo's words:
There is nothing that is impossible to Her who is the conscious Power and universal Goddess all-creative from eternity and armed with the Spirit's omnipotence.
The Shakti in her workings will strike ruthlessly at all forms of ignorance and blindness and all even that trusts wrongly and superstitiously in her and we must be prepared to abandon a too persistent attachment to forms of faith and cling to the saving reality alone.
Tears of gratitude sprang to my eyes when I finished reading all the messages.
1st November was my spiritual birthday. I completed five years in the Yogic field. Still I had a long, long way to go to achieve my goal.
I received Mr. Jaykissen Bahety and Mr. Narottam Mehra—both devotees of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother—at Mercury House. We greeted one another. They were on a business trip. Apart from that they wanted to purchase a wonderful gift to offer to the Mother on the golden occasion—the 1st recurrence of the Supramental Manifestation, which would fall on 29 February, 1960.
Mr. Bahety gave me a packet from the Mother and apprised me of all news concerning the Ashram. Though the Mother had withdrawn from outer activities, her spiritual and occult work continued. In fact, it increased considerably.
Mr. Bahety remarked: "Huta, you have changed a lot. In the Ashram I always saw you so tense—there was no smile on your face—your brows had a frown all the time." I laughed.
We had tea together in my room. I was so glad to meet them and hear them talk enthusiastically about the Mother, her Grace and affection. Their devotion and love for the Mother showed in their eyes.
After thanking them and bidding them Au revoir I sat quietly on a sofa and opened the packet. I found the Bulletin and the message of 24th November with the Mother's love and blessings. I was charmed to see a card: a lovely pink rose painted on cloth on the left side and on the right she had written: "Love."
The message of the Victory Day was:
How can the immortal Gods and Nature change? All changes in a world that is the same As man from childhood grows, yet is the same. Man most must change who is a soul of Time And the gods alter too who rule his mind. Out of their Chthonian darkness they arise And are in their new birth the Suns of Light. Man then shall change into a Soul of Light. And be the likeness of his gods.
The next day I saw big clumps of snow-flakes drifting down through the frigid air. It was snowing incessantly. My only moment of real ease was watching the snow. It soothed my nerves. There was peace and a curious impression of timelessness. Everything looked marvellously white and pure. The snow brought an entrancing beauty which gave a sense of serenity. The whole panorama reminded me of the cards the Mother had sent me when I had been in the Ashram. They had illustrated landscapes covered with snow, snow-capped mountains, snow in fairy fronds on trees. One of them was still vivid to me. It pictured a snow-wrapped landscape clustered with a thousand sharp-tipped stalactites like a fantastic array of icy chandeliers. All this was reflected in the glassy surface of a vast lake. Now I remembered the Mother and missed her so much. She too loved snow.
Mr. Bahety and Mr. Mehra came once again before they left for Pondicherry. They told me that they had bought exquisite golden glassware from Harrods. I sent a card and a letter for the Mother through them. How much I envied them, because soon they would meet the Mother.
My principal, Miss Darvall, came back from India. She had lost her best friend during their attempted ascent of Mount Everest. I went to her and conveyed my condolences. She was touched. Then she inquired about my studies. I explained to her my difficulties, and my dislike of boring subjects. I told her also that I wanted to gain self-confidence and experience in the big city. That was the reason why I was in London. After that she suggested to me that I should go to the London Training Centre, where I could choose my own subjects to study.
I entered the huge building of the LTC and met its authorised people. They saw the recommendation paper given by my principal and arranged for my study from January to July 1960. I chose English literature, poetry, business management and typing.
Sudha and I had also chosen to join one of the educational institutions run by the London County Council. We went to the office of the institution and filled in the forms. Sudha was younger, so she only had to pay half fees. I paid half as well, since they refused to believe my age. Our college was in Barrett Street W.I. There we decided to learn how to make flowers from silk and other materials—also how to do bead-work on a tambour frame. In addition I intended to learn drawing and painting in St. Martin's School of Art. Sudha had no inclination to do so. I thought that now my life would be heading somewhere.
Londoners were in a festive mood, because Christmas was approaching in its grand pomp. Snow heaped up in unblemished charm all around Mercury House. The garden was a bright blanket. The white show weighed down on the bare branches of trees like a canopy of frosted sugar. Miss Jarret and Miss Snowdon decked themselves in long white aprons and were busy making the traditional Christmas pudding. While beating a big volume of it, they asked residents to stir once and express their wishes. When my turn came, Miss Jarret joked: "Well, Miss Hindocha, what is your wish—'for Luck'? Have you dreamed of a wealthy and handsome husband?" I was amused and said with a quizzical smile: "Yes, indeed, I have wished so. He is everything: Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omnipresent—my beloved Eternal Companion who will accompany me life after life." She remarked: "Ati, an extraordinary idea!"
Christmas reminds me of a talk by the Mother on Christ:
Christ came into the world to purify, not to fulfil. He himself foreknew the failure of his mission and the necessity of his return with the sword of God into a world that had rejected him.
Are not Sri Aurobindo's verses in Savitri Book One, Canto 1, telling us of Earth's antipathetic response, appropriate here?
Inflicting on the heights the abysm's law, It sullies with its mire heaven's messengers: Its thorns of fallen nature are the defence It turns against the saviour hands of Grace; It meets the sons of God with death and pain. ||2.12||
Days passed rapidly. It was the last day of the year 1959. I stood near my window in a melancholy mood watching the vast vista of the snow. My heart was filled with a longing to return to those days when the Mother and I meditated in her room. I aspired for Light to make my future bright and successful.
The arrival of the New Year 1960 brought a spell of poignant chill weather. The Mother's New Year message came like a wave of cheer:
1960
To know is good, to live is better, to be, that is perfect.
On the 5th a folder arrived from the Mother. There was a picture of Mahasaraswati on the right side—beneath it, the Mother had written:
To my dear child Huta With blessings
On the left I read a message from Sri Aurobindo in Sanskrit reproduced in his own handwriting:
(Tat savitur varam rūpam jyotiḥ parasya dhīmahi, yannaḥ satyena dīpayet)
Let us meditate on the most auspicious (best) form of Savitri, on the Light of the Supreme which shall illumine us with the Truth.
This is Sri Aurobindo's own "Gayatri" modifying the traditional Gayatri of the Rigveda to express the new realisation of his Integral Yoga of Supermind or Divine Truth-Consciousness. His comment on the Gayatri is:
The power of Gayatri is the Light of the Divine Truth. It is a mantra of Knowledge. The Gayatri mantra is the mantra for bringing the Light of Truth into all the planes of the being.
I came across these lines in Mother India—Monthly Review of Culture:
The most sacred Mantra of the Rigveda (111.62.10), the Gayatri of Rishi Vishvamitra directs us to the Solar Godhead of Truth—Surya-Savitri.
She also remembered to send me the message of the Epiphany Day—the 6th January. I was charmed by the passage from The Life Divine by Sri Aurobindo:
To be or become something, to bring something into being is the whole labour of the force of Nature; to know, feel, do are subordinate energies that have a value because they help the being in its partial self realisation to express what it is and help it too in its urge to express the still more not yet realised that it has to be.
Miss Doris Tomlinson had already returned from the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. She gave me an attractive card from the Mother. It displayed a reproduction of a boy's portrait by Murillo. The Mother had written on the card:
To My dear little child with love and blessings
Doris gave me news of the Ashram and the Mother. Despite her longing to stay on, she had to come back because of her ill-health. She inquired how I was and how I got on with my studies. My answer was: "Now everything seems all right."
The lowering sky threatened snow—a cold wind swept over my body. The iciness in the air made me shiver uncontrollably. I drew my coat close about me and entered the Palace Hotel in Marble Arch for my accommodation. It was reputable and run by two English ladies. Though the name was high sounding, the place in fact was small, cosy and comfortable. It had central heating which suited me fine. The ladies were kind enough to give me a special rate because I was a student.
After bidding adios to Mrs. English, Mrs. Snowdon and Miss Jarret at Mercury House, I went to the Palace Hotel, which was not far from LTC, the London Training Centre, where I had already started going. Mercury House was pretty far from LTC and I had to change two tube-trains. Often when I got too late to catch the tube-train, I rushed and ran disregarding my 3-inch high-heel shoes and the heavy coat. Now it really gives me a nightmare to think of those shoes and my running in them!
The Mother distributed on 2nd February 1960—the day of Mahasaraswati Puja—the message she had sent me in advance.
Sri Aurobindo throws more light on the Gayatri:
The Sun is the symbol of the divine Light that is coming down and Gayatri gives expression to the aspiration asking the divine Light to come down and give impulsion to all the activities of the mind.
In this Yoga also, we want to bring down the divine Sun to govern not only the mind but the vital and physical being also. It is a very difficult effort. All cannot bear the Light of the Sun when it comes down. Gayatri chooses the Divine Light of the Truth asking it to come down and govern the mind. It is the capacity to bear the Light that constitutes the fitness for the Yoga.
It was interesting to read the Mother's book, Words of Long Ago, in which she had stated about the "Sun of Truth", before she knew about Sri Aurobindo:
My wish is that we may take the resolution to elevate ourselves daily in all sincerity and goodwill, in an ardent aspiration towards the Sun of Truth, the Supreme Light, the intelligent source of life of the universe, so that it may penetrate us entirely and illumine with its great brilliance our mind and heart, all our thoughts and all our actions.
Doris and Aunt Margaret came to meet me separately at the Palace Hotel. They found my room exceedingly small. I told them: "I intend to go to Mrs. Bee's House as soon as the room I want is vacated".
Sudha and I, after college, went twice a week in the late evening to one of the Educational Institutions run by the LCC—London County Council—where we were learning how to make flowers from silk, satin, velvet and cambric. We were also learning bead-work on a tambour-frame twice a week as previously arranged. There were two lady-teachers—one ample in proportions, rather strict and glum, the other slim, smiling and sympathetic. We were introduced to several sizes and shapes of tools named goffer, curter and marker. Besides these, our requirements were: forceps, gloves, scissors, a small electric hot-plate, gelatine powder, tissue-paper, a tiny cushion and so on. We made quite a number of flowers—roses, carnations, buttercups, daisies, love-in-a-mist, chrysanthemums, pansies and poppies. I loved making roses, which when finished looked like real roses, and I made them even more attractive by spraying them with rose-perfume.
The slim teacher called me "Butterfly". This reminds me of a letter by the Mother to me:
Do not be confused. All this is to teach you to be like a butterfly without care for the future—leaving all to the care of the Supreme in full trust and confidence.
On the third floor two teachers were teaching us head-work on a tambour-frame. There were two stands supporting the frame. Each student had her own frame. We had to sit on a chair to do the work. First we passed a long thread through beads and stabbed the special hooked needle through the respective designs on the material which was fixed in the frame. The real pattern took shape automatically under the frame. We did many specimens on diverse coloured cloths. Then we made white satin evening-handbags with bugle-beading and pearls. Finally we sewed on them elegant handles with chains. Our teacher informed us: "Girls, do you know at what price these types of evening-bags are sold in big shops? Not less than 50 guineas!"
The teacher examined my work and said: "Miss Hindocha, would you like to take a job in our college? We do admire your efficiency in work and it will be a great help." I said: "Madam, I am very thankful to you for offering the job, but I can't stay on in London, for my home is in India." She tut-tutted.
In that class when there was no bead-work, the teachers taught some ladies how to make hats. They showed us several hats, also a beautiful satin gown
which was heavily encrusted with pale rubies, pearls and bugle-beading. They said with pride: "Occasionally we make gowns for the Royal Family."
The Mother sent a folder. On the right side there was a reproduction of a painting by Pramodkumar. It depicted two golden swans gliding in a vast sky. Underneath the picture the Mother had inscribed:
"Les annonciateurs du monde Supramental."
("The announcers of the Supramental world")
On the right she had written:
To My dear little child Huta With my love and blessings
After her signature she had added:
This is the picture I shall distribute on the 21st of February.
Tears of gratitude dimmed my eyes. Invariably she sent me messages in advance, which moved me so much. I hastened to buy some gifts for the Mother and send them by air-mail so that they might reach her on her birthday.
On the 21st there was a gathering at Doris's place, because that day was the Mother's birthday. As always there were readings and meditation ending with high tea and exchanges of pleasantries and good will. The devotees of the Mother liked the folder I showed them.
It was a great joy to receive yet another folder from the Mother on 29th February—the first recurrence of the date of the Supramental Manifestation in the leap year 1956.
29.2.60
THE GOLDEN DAY
Dorinavant, le 29 fevrier sera le jour du Seigneur. Henceforth the 29th of February will be the day of the Lord.
On the outside of the folder she had written:
27.2.60
To My dear little child Huta with love and blessings
This is what I shall distribute on the 29th February.
Your parcel has just arrived bringing all the nice things for my birthday. They have been fully appreciated.
Inside the folder there was a message in French on the left side and its translation , in English on the right:
During the Common Meditation on Wednesday the 29th February 1956
This evening the Divine Presence, concrete and material, was there present amongst you. I had a form of living gold, bigger than the universe, and I was facing a huge and massive golden door which separated the world from the Divine.
As I looked at the door, I knew and willed, in a single movement of consciousness, that the time has come,' and lifting with both hands a mighty golden hammer I struck one blow, one single blow on the door and the door was shattered to pieces.
Then the supramental Light and Force and Consciousness rushed down upon earth in an uninterrupted flow
29.2.1960
Here I recall the following verses from Savitri, Book One, Canto 2:
The great World-Mother now in her arose: A living choice reversed fate's cold dead turn, Affirmed the spirit's tread on Circumstance, Pressed back the senseless dire revolving Wheel And stopped the mute march of Necessity. ||4.47|| A flaming warrior from the eternal peaks Empowered to force the door denied and closed Smote from Death's visage its dumb absolute And burst the bounds of consciousness and time. ||4.48||
The Mother has emphasised in her writing:
The manifestation of the Supramental upon earth is no more a promise but a living fact, a reality.
It is at work here, and one day will come when the most blind, the most unconscious, even the most unwilling shall be obliged to recognise it.
There was a meeting at Doris's. All the people present read the message the Mother had sent me. They were highly appreciative. It was a luminous day for us. That very night I wrote a letter to the Mother.
“My dearest Mother,
Pranam.
Please accept my gratitude for sending me messages and Bulletins unfailingly.
I am extremely happy you liked the things I had sent you.
In the depth of my heart there is always a stream of love for you, flowing serenely, sweetly.
Outwardly I am meeting with hideous difficulties and setbacks.
Harrowing experiences, confusions and sufferings have besieged me.
Now gradually I am waking up to the fact that I cannot sail along in a smooth and tranquil sea expecting everything to be marvellous.
Ma, I feel empty—as if I have forgotten my goal. I do await the new page of my life to be turned by the Supreme.
Believe me, I am far from doing worthwhile things. My heart grieves with sorrow.
Your Force, Grace and Love make me go on—and I live. Again and again I thank you for loving me.
Yours, Huta”
February gave way to a wild and windy March. The chilliness increased in the air. Everything was freezing—these were the days of solitude and silence. Snow whirled and spattered against my windows. Often I longed to curl up on my couch with many blankets over me. Now I was at Mrs. Bee's House. My room was big and centrally heated. I telephoned Aunt Margaret asking her to accompany me and help in my enrolment at St. Martin's School of Art.
We stood in the queue together. Then after paying the fees and filling the form we went to the school canteen for a cup of tea. I told Aunt that if I could get accommodation in the YWCA—Young Women's Christian Association—at Great Russell Street it would be convenient for me because it was close to my colleges. She promised me that she would inquire and let me know.
Three times a week in the evening I started going to St. Martin's School of Art, which was a huge place. I came across a few interesting professors. One of them was very short—hardly five feet tall—and was extremely humorous. I entered his class which was ice-cold. There were quite a number of students busy with their work. He welcomed me and gave me a place near a nude who was reclining luxuriously on a couch. I was asked to sketch her. I felt awkward and uneasy, because I did not know how to draw a human figure properly. After several attempts, at last I sketched her. The professor saw my work and remarked: "Why, Miss Hindocha, do you think that eyes must be on the forehead?" The whole class was in a roar of laughter, along with the model. I was taken aback but soon regained my composure. Now it was up to me to show the professor my skill in conveying my vision of her. He then altered it a little and advised me: "You should practise drawing human figures more and more. You must join the exclusive drawing class. Here you are doing drawing and painting both. You see, all artists must learn the human figure accurately."
After I had finished the painting the model got up and examined it. She also went around to peep at everybody else's painting. It was the intermission. We were still fumbling with our painting materials. Meanwhile the model wore her dressing gown and left for a cup of tea.
I joined another class. Here an old man came and sat beside me. He taught me how to draw holding my hand, which I disliked. As a matter of fact, he did all the sketches. I learnt nothing. I left the class.
I found yet another class of life drawing. It was a big hall with a dais, chairs, benches, stands and stools. I saw a nude model seated on a narrow stool. She was pregnant, in her last months. I felt uncomfortable when I drew her, because I had to look at her constantly in order to capture her in my sketch book.
There were men models whose physiques were superb. They were tall, with broad shoulders and muscular chests, tapering down to lean hips and long legs. Young women nudes were symmetrically charming and beautiful. I marvelled at the seriousness of the young students who never raised their voices or passed any vulgar remarks. There was always a total hush save for muffled instructions by professors to the pupils.
"Miss Hindocha, how does it go, eh?" The tall professor asked, filling his pipe with a fine aromatic tobacco. Fishing in his pocket for a lighter, he thumbed it into flame and lit the pipe and drew deeply on it. He came and stood beside my bench, studying my work and offering comments: "Let your drawings flow, use your eyes. There is an art in seeing. To see well is rather difficult — it requires keenness of eyes. Also you should develop skill in your hands."
One day the female nude stood posing near a stand. The students formed a thick semi-circle near her and began sketching. An aged man who was sitting by me told me in his bass-tone: "Miss, hasn't she got a fabulous figure?" I smiled and nodded. This reminds me of Rodin's words on a nude:
"The beauty of a naked woman is the beauty of God."
I was amazed to see old men and women above sixty or seventy coming to learn art so enthusiastically. I believe that in Western countries people go on progressing regardless of their age. They never waste their time.
Apart from the life drawing and portrait paintings, I wished to learn still life painting. I went to the inquiry office and followed one of the queues. Everyone stared at me curiously. I was perplexed. Soon I summoned my common sense and asked a girl who was in front of me whether I was in the right line. She said: "Well, this queue is for models." My God! I slipped out quietly to join the right one. After paying the fees and filling the form, I entered a very big room. There were two sections, so the students could paint whatever they liked: still-life or portrait. As I approached two gentlemen, their attention swerved from their deep discussion to me. I spoke to one of them and showed the form that entitled me to attend his class. The other, a young man, was listening to me intently. When he had heard my account, the person I was addressing chuckled and said: "Sorry, Miss, I am not the professor, but a student." Then he pointed to the young man beside him and informed me: "He is the professor." We three looked at one another and burst out laughing. In fact, the man whom I had taken to be the professor was well suited for the role. He had an elegant trimmed beard, his attire of fine English worsted was dark blue and well cut, the jacket fitted nicely across his shoulders, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a book. He wore the perfect expression of a professor. That was why I had poured out my story to him. I was really struck by his patience as well as the patience of the real professor. They both were typical Englishmen relishing fully the piquant situation. Then I talked to the real one and wished them both good night.
The following evening, I joined the class. Both of them smiled and greeted me. To my disgust, I had to paint dead pigeons. However, I painted them. But most of the painting was done by the professor to show me the true technique. He said: "You must give long and short brush strokes with sensitiveness in your eyes and skill in your hands. Your eyes must act as an intermediary between you and the object and your hands must accomplish what is felt and seen by the eyes." So original and practical! But nothing like what the Mother had taught me. In her Collected Works Vol. 3, pp. 104-107 & 110, she has written about authentic art and answered questions on the relation between art and yoga:
...If you want art to be the true and highest art, it must be the expression of a divine world brought down into this material world. All true artists have some feeling of this kind, some sense that they are intermediaries between a higher world and this physical existence. If you consider it in this light, Art is not very different from Yoga. The discipline of Art has at its centre the same principle as the discipline of Yoga. In both the aim is to become more and more conscious; in both you have to learn to see and feel something that is beyond the ordinary vision and feeling, to go within and bring out from there deeper things. Painters have to follow a discipline for the growth of the consciousness of their eyes, which in itself is almost Yoga. If they are true artists and try to see beyond and use their art for the expression of the inner world, they grow in consciousness by this concentration, which is not other than the consciousness given by Yoga. Why then should not Yogic consciousness be a help to artistic creation?... There is one way in which Yoga may stop the artist's productive impulse. If the origin of his art is in the vital world, once he becomes a Yogi he will lose his inspiration or rather, the source from which his inspiration used to come will inspire him no more, for then the vital world appears in its true light; it puts on its true value, and that value is very relative. Most of those who call themselves artists draw their inspiration from the vital world only; and it carries in it no high or great significance. But when a true artist, one who looks for his creative source to a higher world, turns to Yoga, he will find that his inspiration becomes more direct and powerful and his expression clear and deeper. Of those who possess a true value the power of Yoga will increase the value, but from one who has only some false appearance of art even that appearance will vanish or else lose its appeal. To one earnest in Yoga, the first simple truth that strikes his opening vision is that what he does is a very relative thing in comparison with the universal manifestation, the universal movement. But an artist is usually vain and looks on himself as a highly important personage, a kind of demigod in the human world. Many artists say that if they did not believe what they do to be of a supreme importance, they would not be able to do it. But I have known some whose inspiration was from a higher world and yet they did not believe that what they did was of so immense an importance. That is nearer the spirit of true art. If a man is truly led to express himself in art, it is the way the Divine has chosen to manifest in him, and then by Yoga his art will gain and not lose. But there is all the question: is the artist appointed by the Divine or self-appointed?... Art is nothing less in its fundamental truth than the aspect of beauty of the Divine manifestation. Perhaps, looking from this standpoint, there will be found very few true artists; but still there are some and these can very well be considered as Yogis. For like a Yogi an artist goes into deep contemplation to await and receive his inspiration. To create something truly beautiful he has first to see it within, to realise it as a whole in his inner consciousness; only when so found, seen, held within, can he execute it outwardly; he creates according to this greater inner vision. This too is a kind of yogic discipline, for by it he enters into intimate communion with the inner worlds.
...If you want art to be the true and highest art, it must be the expression of a divine world brought down into this material world. All true artists have some feeling of this kind, some sense that they are intermediaries between a higher world and this physical existence. If you consider it in this light, Art is not very different from Yoga.
The discipline of Art has at its centre the same principle as the discipline of Yoga. In both the aim is to become more and more conscious; in both you have to learn to see and feel something that is beyond the ordinary vision and feeling, to go within and bring out from there deeper things. Painters have to follow a discipline for the growth of the consciousness of their eyes, which in itself is almost Yoga. If they are true artists and try to see beyond and use their art for the expression of the inner world, they grow in consciousness by this concentration, which is not other than the consciousness given by Yoga. Why then should not Yogic consciousness be a help to artistic creation?...
There is one way in which Yoga may stop the artist's productive impulse. If the origin of his art is in the vital world, once he becomes a Yogi he will lose his inspiration or rather, the source from which his inspiration used to come will inspire him no more, for then the vital world appears in its true light; it puts on its true value, and that value is very relative. Most of those who call themselves artists draw their inspiration from the vital world only; and it carries in it no high or great significance. But when a true artist, one who looks for his creative source to a higher world, turns to Yoga, he will find that his inspiration becomes more direct and powerful and his expression clear and deeper. Of those who possess a true value the power of Yoga will increase the value, but from one who has only some false appearance of art even that appearance will vanish or else lose its appeal. To one earnest in Yoga, the first simple truth that strikes his opening vision is that what he does is a very relative thing in comparison with the universal manifestation, the universal movement. But an artist is usually vain and looks on himself as a highly important personage, a kind of demigod in the human world. Many artists say that if they did not believe what they do to be of a supreme importance, they would not be able to do it. But I have known some whose inspiration was from a higher world and yet they did not believe that what they did was of so immense an importance. That is nearer the spirit of true art. If a man is truly led to express himself in art, it is the way the Divine has chosen to manifest in him, and then by Yoga his art will gain and not lose. But there is all the question: is the artist appointed by the Divine or self-appointed?...
Art is nothing less in its fundamental truth than the aspect of beauty of the Divine manifestation. Perhaps, looking from this standpoint, there will be found very few true artists; but still there are some and these can very well be considered as Yogis. For like a Yogi an artist goes into deep contemplation to await and receive his inspiration. To create something truly beautiful he has first to see it within, to realise it as a whole in his inner consciousness; only when so found, seen, held within, can he execute it outwardly; he creates according to this greater inner vision. This too is a kind of yogic discipline, for by it he enters into intimate communion with the inner worlds.
In our class the majority of the students did abstract and modem paintings.
A few days later I painted a portrait of a pretty girl, not nude this time for a change. When I had finished it and shown it to the professor, he exclaimed: "Well, Miss Hindocha, don't you think the eyes are rather huge? They look like an Indian's eyes." I smiled and said: "Sir, if seen by Indian eyes, how could they be otherwise?" He laughed and affirmed: "You are absolutely right." Then I spoke to him of the "Future Painting" about which the Mother had told me. But I did not know how much he could grasp. A girl was doing a corner of the room in abstract art. The professor appreciated and praised her work a lot. As regards higher painting none in this world had any idea of the Mother's vision.
While observing and examining numerous drawings and paintings done by students I could discriminate between two opposites—truth and falsehood. I felt that a large number of the students derived their inspiration from the wrong source and the result seemed to me flat and lifeless. Within me I knew that whatever I had learnt in my colleges I would make the most of it in my future work in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram.
I got accommodation in the YWCA. I had a good number of things to carry from one place to another. I changed places far too often. It was trying and tiring. But now my colleges were within walking distance, which was very convenient.
I happened to meet an English woman at the YWCA. She seemed to be a bundle of nerves. She came into my room, which I did not approve. She did not budge. As I felt it was impolite to be rude to an elderly woman, I let her stay. Meanwhile I went to take my bath.
It struck me in a flash of illumination that I must take my gold chain with a large shining gold locket suspended from it. It had been given to me by the Mother. In the locket nestled a sacred gold-chain the Mother had worn on one of her ankles for several years. She put it round my neck when I met her for the first time in November 1954. Now it was completely worn out, so she got it secured in a gold locket. On one side of the locket there was her symbol and on the other Sri Aurobindo's symbol. The locket was on the table near my bed. It was quite heavy, so every night before going to bed I took it off my neck and slipped it under my pillow. But unhappily that day I had set it on the table. I advanced my steps to take it, but my innermost self or perhaps the Supreme Power which protects us all unfailingly in the worst moments of danger and catastrophe, whispered to me: "Do not take the locket from the table."
I retraced my steps and went to take my bath. The time was 11.45 a.m. Exactly at 12 o'clock my heart gave a jerk while I was still in my bath. I felt as if my pulse had lost its regularity. A catch of uneasiness, vague and indefinable, seemed to suggest a lurking danger of which I was totally unaware. After finishing the bath at 12.15 I entered the room. My stomach turned an abrupt somersault. A sick feeling coiled in it. I caught my breath. The woman had disappeared with the locket and some £20/- from my handbag leaving behind her a ghastly, sinister atmosphere. The incident stunned me into silence for a few minutes.
Later I reported to the warden who then rushed to the lady in charge of the YWCA. She called me. I was shaken to the core. My legs gave way under me. I plumped down into a chair. Despite the state of my mind, I found my voice sounding clear. She heard me out, then asked me severely: "Miss Hindocha, in the first place, why did you allow the woman into your room?" I felt emotionally too washed out to make any proper reply except that the woman was insistent and I could not help it. She said: "Such a thing has never happened here all these years. This is the first time it occurred." Afterwards she phoned to the CID—Criminal Investigation Department.
I was perilously close to tears, but managed to hold them back. The nauseating sensation of deep unease returned acutely as I went back to my room. Each second that passed was like a shaft piercing my heart. I longed for a sympathetic response which none gave. I felt as though I had lived years in a few hours. This was a crushing blow.
I had an unhappy, unendurable restless night. My violent urge to leave the hostel became imperative. The dawn broke—pale light shone through the side of the curtain covering the window. I threw aside the quilt and rose from my bed, exhausted. My spirit sank still lower—but with a great effort I set my feeling aside, approached the table and started writing to the Mother. The memory of the Mother enshrined in my heart was more intense than ever. I knew that when everything in my life failed me I should bear in my mind that the Mother loved me and that love would save me from all evils.
At about 11.30 a.m. a man from the CID came over and asked me several questions. I endeavoured to maintain my calm as I answered him, but my nerves were frazzled. Besides, I showed him my photograph with Aunt Margaret in which I had worn the locket.
He left saying he would make investigations and would let me know. I thanked him. It was a fragile hope, but all I could cling to.
I went out to post my letter to the Mother. Now to crown it all, I received a letter from the Manager of Barclays Bank Ltd., informing me that my account was overdrawn. I was shocked. Immediately I telephoned Aunt Margaret to come with £50/-. She was a haven—always dependable. I could count on her to stand by me. She arrived with the money and told me: "Huta, I have been in terrible anxiety about you these past few hours. You really had me all a twitter with worry. Now tell me what happened and why you wish to leave this place." I said: "Aunt, I take a very grim view of this episode, because the chain along with the locket were not ordinary. They held the Mother's marvellous Force." And my eyes filled with irresistible tears. I continued: "I have the strong impression that the woman was not only a thief but a desperate character. If I had taken the locket from the table, she would not have hesitated to use violence on me in order to get possession of it. She might have murdered me. From this I can conceive that the hostile forces are everywhere out in the lists. They are actively present—bent upon mischief and how they always wait to pounce on unwary beings! Yet what possible harm can they do to me when the divine forces also are present? You see, the instinct I had of not picking up the locket proved to me that the Divine too was everywhere vigilant and victorious. Nevertheless, there have been too many shocks in my young life. Aunt, I really want to leave this place. I feel disgusted. Thank you for the money which I will credit in my account. When I get the money from my father I will repay the sum to you." Suddenly I closed my eyes against the weariness—against the problems and conflicts all around me.
Aunt Margaret said with solicitude: "How earnestly you wanted to get into the YWCA hostel and what a bad experience you had when we finally found you a place here! I know, you are not the sort of person to say things for no reason. I sympathise with you. We shall certainly find another place. Don't worry."
Later we went to the lady in charge. I told her that I wished to leave the hostel and that I would be much obliged if she would give me the refund. She consented. Then she disclosed: "The wretched woman has vanished without paying her heavy bills. She is a great thief. Moreover, I telephoned the office in the West End where she was supposed to start her new work. They said that the woman had not turned up. She took a handsome amount from the office in advance. I also found that she had borrowed money from some girls here and never returned it." Now the pieces began to fall into place when we heard the lady. We thanked her and came out of her office. In the meantime, the Bank Manager telephoned me that it was a mistake on the part of his staff—somebody had drawn the money and they thought it had been I! I told him that his letter to me was like a bolt from the blue. I requested him to be very careful. He apologised and assured me that he would not commit the mistake again. I gave the money back to Aunt Margaret with gratitude and appreciation.
I drifted aimlessly through the days. The atmosphere of the hostel was unbearable. Aunt Margaret found another accommodation in Holland Park, which was not very far from Doris's fiat. But unfortunately I still had a few more days to spend in the YWCA.
When I had no classes in the afternoon, I visited the British Museum in Bloomsbury, which was very near to the hostel. It had originated with the purchase of Sir Hans Sloane's library and collection in 1753, and of the manuscripts collected by the famous antiquarian Sir Robert Cotton. The funds were raised by public lottery. The Museum was first opened in 1759 in Montague House but a large building becoming necessary to house the new and growing acquisitions, the present one was erected on the Montague House site. It was finished in 1847, at a cost of £1,000,000. The King Edward VII Extension was built between 1908 and 1914. The reading room, with its great dome, the second largest in the world, was built in 1857, and the Museum Library contains over six million volumes.
Apart from the huge library, there was an enormous museum section. It displayed original antiquities—illustrating the histories, arts, crafts of numerous civilisations. I was fascinated to see ancient paintings, Greek sculptures, Assyrian winged bulls about forty feet high. There were priceless objects which had been excavated and now exhibited with informative notes. There were also Egyptian mummies and Sarcophaguses. I saw the mummies—some still packed, some half-opened—lying in rows with different poses. One among them was of Katebet which was striking. The whole scene gave the impression as if living spirits were still hovering over the mummies. The air was eerie and made me shudder. The Mother has revealed several things about Egyptian mummies.
There were many valuable manuscripts which owing to the passage of centuries had become brittle. I admired the countless objects of the past. The bronze statue of Tara—Nepalese 14th century A.D. or earlier—was charming. I came to know much later that Sri Aurobindo had once lived in Great Russell Street. He must have visited the library at the British Museum—the greatest, oldest and finest library in the British Commonwealth.
The lady in charge at the YWCA informed me that the man from the CID could not locate either the locket or the woman. She gave me the refund and wished me good luck.
The Mother sent me a card dated 31st March 1960 in answer to my letter. On the top of the card were her soothing words:
Be grateful for all ordeals, they are the shortest way to the Divine.
She had written under this:
Do not be worried. Since a few days I knew that you were in difficulties and my love and force were with you more intimately than ever.
Money and ajewel can be replaced, the Divine's love is unreplaceable. With love and blessings
Relief flooded through me temporarily. I knew that everything passed with time—but some things leave scars. I had loved the feeling of the sacred chain around my neck. It had given me a sense of security. But now? Tears ran down my face, the slow, painful tears of utter despair.
Gaizmore Hotel was a big building with rooms converted into bed-sitters. It had a good number of tenants. My bed-sitter with cooking facilities was on the ground floor. A large window faced a small garden which was now gloomy without blooms.
The Mother sent me the message of 4th April 1960—the day of Sri Aurobindo's first arrival at Pondicherry. It had his own handwriting and a printed copy of it. The writing ran:
An eye that visualised the viewless planes Exposed the depths concealed by Nature's fronts Till all seemed known.
My brothers number three and four, who had come from East Africa, telephoned me from their hotel. When we met, they gave all the news of our family.
As always I did some chores in my room and went to college. There I learnt I had passed my speed test in typing. It was ninety words per minute!
The Mother sent me the message of the 24th April which I took to our spiritual meeting at Doris's flat. She read it out to us:
The Formless and the Formed were joined in her:
Immensity was exceeded by a look, A Face revealed the crowded Infinite. ||81.19|| Incarnating inexpressibly in her limbs The boundless joy the blind world-forces seek, Her body of beauty mooned the seas of bliss. ||81.20|| At the head she stands of birth and toil and fate, In their slow round the cycles turn to her call; Alone her hands can change Time's dragon base. ||81.21|| Hers is the mystery the Night conceals; The spirit's alchemist energy is hers; She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire. ||81.22|| The luminous heart of the Unknown is she, A power of silence in the depths of God; She is the Force, the inevitable Word, The magnet of our difficult ascent, The Sun from which we kindle all our suns, The Light that leans from the unrealised Pasts, The joy that beckons from the impossible, The Might of all that never yet came down. ||81.23|| All Nature dumbly calls to her alone To heal with her feet the aching throb of life And break the seals on the dim soul of man And kindle her fire in the closed heart of things. ||81.24|| All here shall be one day her sweetness' home, All contraries prepare her harmony; Towards her our knowledge climbs, our passion gropes, In her miraculous rapture we shall dwell, Her clasp shall turn to ecstasy our pain. ||81.25||
Now came 1St May 1960. It was a Sunday. Sudha and I headed for Hyde Park. A profusion of flowers greeted us: tulips, ablaze with colours ranging from deepest scarlet to pure white. There were Rhododendrons, Azaleas, Lupins, Snow¬drops, Daffodils, Crocuses white and mauve. They stirred in the gentle breeze. Primroses spilled their luscious beauty. Butterflies of every hue and shape clung to the blooms sucking their nectar. The larks sang joyously. Nature awoke to a new life. I lost my heart to this enchantment. Everything seemed hopeful. Now, recalling that lovely scene, these verses from Savitri Book Four cross my mind:
Then Spring, an ardent lover, leaped through leaves And caught the earth-bride in his eager clasp; His advent was a fire of irised hues, His arms were a circle of the arrival of joy. ||93.23||
Sudha and I sat on a bench near a pond, and tossed pieces of biscuits we had brought with us into the water, watching the charming swans and other water-birds snap at them. Then suddenly we remembered our teachers who had taught us flower-making. They had asked us to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum to see the Seventeenth-Century silk flowers and an Eighteenth-Century French posy; also a Victorian flower necklet, from 1870. We went there. It took some time to locate them. Meanwhile we saw many interesting things.
The Seventeenth-Century spray of silk violets and snow-drops was a piece of art. We wondered who had worn it! Then there was the Eighteenth-Century French posy which was made in a complicated and intricate way. It was meant to be worn on a wedding-dress. Finally we saw the charming necklet. The white satin ribbon forming the necklet was a perfect background for the cloth flowers in their exquisite colours of fuchsias, sunflowers, daisies and pansies.
We emerged from the museum and looked up. Dusk had just fallen—everything was misty blue, mysterious, yet glowing. The twilight was entrancing when the sky was still undarkened and the street lights were lit. We wished each other good night and parted.
The following morning once again I picked up the threads of my life's pattern—colleges, lessons, errands and my bed-sitter. I took the Central Line from Holland Park to reach my college. There was no need to change the tube train. Moreover I had bought the pass, so it was easy to travel to and from the colleges. After our classes Ursula, my German friend, and I peeped into shop-windows as we walked. We admired the gay spring and summer garments —displayed tastefully, artistically. Ursula said that she was going to get us two tickets for the play My Fair Lady the following Saturday. I thanked her. We took our tube trains to reach home.
Days ran out like sand. Now it was Saturday. Along with Ursula I entered a big theatre to see the play. From nowhere a dais rose slowly and was level with the huge stage. On it there were musicians with various instruments playing the tunes of the songs: "I could have danced all night...", "Lots of chocolate for me to eat..." and so on. The music was intoxicating. Then the lights went dim, the dais disappeared as the play began. We were terribly disappointed, because Rex Harrison and Julie Andrews were not taking part: others were playing their roles. Nevertheless, I was thrilled to hear the King's English with a perfect accent. This expressive language was and is my favourite. I was extremely eager to learn it more and more so that I might easily read and understand Sri Aurobindo's books—especially Savitri.
The sun had already disappeared, and the sky assumed a soft purple sheen and steadily grew darker. Before going to bed I turned the pages of the Bulletin of April 1960 which the Mother had sent me. I came across this very interesting comment the Mother had given on one of the Thoughts and Aphorisms written by Sri Aurobindo.
Hallucination is the term of Science for those irregular glimpses we still have of truths shut out from us by our preoccupation with matter; coincidence for the curious touches of the artist, in the work of that supreme and universal Intelligence which in its conscious being, as on a canvas, has planned and executed the world.
Sweet Mother, what does "artist" represent here?
Sri Aurobindo here compares the work of the Supreme Lord, creator of the universe, to the work of an artist who would paint, with great strokes of brush, the picture of the world in his conscious being as on a canvas. And when by the fact of a 'curious technique' he superimposes two strokes of brush, that makes a 'coincidence. '
Generally the word 'coincidence 'suggests the idea of an unconscious meaningless chance. Sri Aurobindo wants to make us understand that chance and unconsciousness have nothing to do with this phenomenon; on the contrary, it is the result of a refined taste and consciousness such as artists possess and it can reveal a deep intention.
I rose from my chair, opened the window and looked at the garden strangely lit by the crescent moon. The sky was cloudless and star-spangled. There was a warm breath of spring air. Indeed the Supreme Lord was the perfect Artist who had created the whole Universe. I fell into a dreamy contemplative mood when I pulled the covers of my bed over me and switched off the table-lamp. A few minutes later I slid into a welcome oblivion.
Spring merged into summer, but still there was crispness in the air. The days were slowly growing longer, warmer and brighter. I was longing to get back to India. My studies folded up sooner than expected. The courses of flower-making, bead-work, drawing and painting were about to close. The examinations in LTC were near. I was busy with my work. Days flew quickly. I started preparing to leave England.
One day an Indian gentleman from Nairobi whom I had met at East Africa House ran into me. He greeted me and insisted that I should take coffee with him. We entered one of the coffee bars and sat in a far corner. He ordered Espressos. We sipped the beverage. Meanwhile he asked me: "Where did you disappear? Of late I haven't seen you around Marble Arch with your friends." I said: "I changed far too many places—that is why." Then he asked me about my studies and about my leaving England. I satisfied his queries, and inquired about his studies. He laughed and said: "Oh, in Lincoln's Inn we eat and talk!" He sent me into a soft ripple of laughter. "What is your future plan?" he asked. I said: "As a matter of fact, I don't have any. But first I will go to East Africa to visit my parents and then to the Sri Aurobindo Ashram where I belong." He leaned forward and questioned me: "Wouldn't you like to get married and settle nicely? Will you be my companion if I propose to you? I am prepared to do my practice anywhere you prefer—here, America, East Africa, except India." His astounding proposition robbed me of speech. I was terribly embarrassed. Still I was silent. A wave of desire to say "Yes" to the gentleman was rising higher and still higher and just about to sink me. In the meantime I felt in the depths of my heart the flame of aspiration steady and sweetly warm which gave me comfort and courage, reminding me of my supreme goal: the Divine.
"Have you nothing to say?" he asked, his voice deep, vibrant and caressing. His dark brown eyes held mine steadily, searchingly. Eventually I answered: "No, I am honoured by your offer. Thank you so much. But I cannot accept it, because I have given my heart and soul to the Supreme Lord who is my Companion and will be so life after life." His eyebrows rose as he remarked: "Don't be crazy. You are young—full of vitality, hopes and enthusiasm. Why do you want to waste your precious time in this fantasy and unrealisable reverie?" A sad smile hovered on my lips. I said: "You don't know my life. Now that I have made my choice I'll stick to it. Life is too complicated when one is young. But, thank God, I don't own my life." He said: "You amaze me. I like your innocence and ignorance." I said: "Thank you."
He smiled charmingly and said: "Please tell me all about the Ashram." I told him in a nutshell. He seemed impressed. I said: "When I was in my early teens I knew that I was not seeking transient sensations—momentary desires—I believed in an ideal, true and pure love that was service, devotion, unselfishness. But, alas, my mad dream never came true. I could not find my match, because my life was meant to receive the divine love which is incomparable, priceless." He said: "You give me quite a turn—you do fascinate me. You see, I wish to marry a girl for her inner quality and refined culture. I don't go in for flamboyance. You have made a deep impression on me."
I rose from the chair expressing my thanks for the coffee. He fell into step beside me after paying the bill. He said when he saw me off to the nearby tube station: "Here is my visiting card. In case you change your mind, please let me know." I took it and said: "Thank you once again. Please do come to the Ashram and meet our Divine Mother, will you?" He nodded. We parted, perhaps never to meet again.
On my way home countless thoughts whirled dizzily through my mind. Then from nowhere a small silly voice whispered: "You fool, how awful to let the first bright flame of romance flicker down to cold grey ashes!" Indeed, physical attractions were a snare. But they had no real base. Human love could never be sincere, one-pointed, true and pure.
That very night I wrote a letter to the Mother regarding the proposal and my refusal. I also wrote a letter to my friend Mrs. Saralaben Shah of Bombay:
“Never do I want to get married, never do I want to fall into that delusion. The Divine Mother wrote to me in 1956: "You are born for the Divine and you will find the Divine." This was true and will always remain true. Let the Mother's Will be done. I will make the most of my life. I know my loyalty was put to the test. But Huta will always remain Huta—the offered one.”
During my stay in the Ashram for almost four years I met with hideous difficulties both outward and inward. I was aware of hardships in the Ashram. Besides, my parents were anxious about my life as I was young. They had permitted me to get married to a person of my own choice. If any girl would have been in my place she might have succumbed to this irresistible offer from such a wonderful person, full of vivacity, versatility, virile, devastatingly attractive, rich, intelligent and so forth. He deserves these adjectives and many more. Indeed, some men are most attractive. They are well dressed, well mannered and there is something dashing and jaunty about them. I might have easily accepted the gentleman's proposal, got married and settled in London. But my soul stood its ground.
It was cool and windy, not very pleasant for July. I received a letter dated 7th July 1960 from the Mother:
As far as I know I have answered your letters, but both ways some may have been lost. This one also I do not know if it will reach you in time before you leave England.
I have received the nice things you have sent through Laljibhai ‘s son, and was hesitating to write as he told me that you would soon leave London. But now I have your letter in which you say you have received nothing from me since a long time, so I venture to send this letter.
I know nothing about the pin. I did not send you any.
I am glad that you are all right and coming back soon.
A wave of relief washed over me.
My father wished me to visit the continent. But now I was eager to be back home. I requested our Agent Mr. I. Kundle to help me send my extra luggage to India by ship. I had come to London with one suitcase. Now I had three, apart from a big trunk which I had stuffed with my paintings, sketches, colour-tubes, brushes and heavy garments. I gave away many things to Aunt Margaret for churches from where warm clothes would be distributed to poor people.
Aunt Margaret and Uncle Peter asked me to tea at their place. After the enjoyable refreshments we set off to St. Martin's Theatre to see the play The Mousetrap—the play with the world's longest run—by Agatha Christie. I sat between Uncle Peter and Aunt Margaret with a big box of assorted chocolates on my knees. They really pampered me like their own daughter. How many thousands of people must have sat in those same seats seeing that same play since then! Uncle Peter guessed during the first act who the murderer was, but we did not know till the very end. After thirty-six years the play is still running. Numerous different actors and actresses have played their roles, but the authorities have kept two things intact as a mark of respect—the old chair and the time-piece.
I was caught up in a whirlwind of frantic activities—booking a ticket, last minute shopping, final packing, saying goodbyes to friends.
On 15th July 1960 I bade adieu to London in the morning. The flight to Entebbe (Uganda) was tolerable. The next morning we reached our destination. My second brother Vasantbhai and his wife Manju received me cordially. Then we headed for Jinja, their house, fifty miles from Kampala.
On the 17th Maganbhai, my fourth brother, came from Miwani (Kenya) to fetch me. The following day we left for Miwani. My parents were pleased to meet me. They inquired all about my studies and stay in London. I never told them my difficulties, setbacks and sufferings. I gave them the impression that I was the happiest person in the world! I gave to my family members the gifts which I had brought from London.
Days passed with monotonous slowness. I felt bored. My only refuge was Nature which conveyed so much to me in her silent, secret, sweet way.
The Mother sent me a lovely card depicting the painting of a mauve Iris on white satin. Her words were:
The Aristocracy of Beauty— With love and blessings
She remembered me—my soul responded to her unchanging love. The Mother has given this significance to the Iris:
Aristocracy of Beauty—of so perfect a form that it compels admiration.
She has also described the flower:
Aristocracy of Beauty. It is a noble flower which stands upright on its stalk. Its form has been stylised in the fleur-de-lis the emblem of the Kings of France.
My fortnight's stay in East Africa was filled with parties, picnics, movies and social gatherings: so much entertainment, so many diversions, yet I could not set my heart on anything. My parents were worried and suggested to me several times to consider marriage. How to explain myself to them? Our house was surrounded by huge mountains. I wanted to climb the peak of one of them and shout and scream at the top of my voice: "I DO NOT WANT TO GET MARRIED—LEAVE ME ALONE." But I was silent and refused to answer any questions. More and more I felt suffocated among my own people. I was aloof, because within me I was absolutely conscious that I never belonged to them. Nonetheless, I appreciated their good will with a thankful heart.
On 1st August 1960 I left Miwani at night by train to catch a plane from Nairobi for Bombay. My father, who came along with others to see me off at Miwani station, whispered privately: "Please don't go anywhere—stay at Pondicherry." I was perplexed, but assured him: "Father. I promise you. I will respect your wish." Then at once I understood what he really meant.
Maganbhai accompanied me to Nairobi. The whole night I could not sleep. My vagrant thoughts mingled with the tedious sound of the fast-moving train. The darkness of the night matched my gloomy heart. The only solace in the whole world was THE MOTHER. Suddenly I felt very strongly that it was my last visit to Miwani—I would never be able to go there again—to the small paradise. For now, unfortunately, our beautiful place does not exist—the Government of Kenya took it over in 1988. The following morning we arrived at Nairobi. In the evening I flew to Bombay. The time was anxiously awaited to unfold the next phase of my life. These words of Sri Aurobindo were really encouraging:
So the Light grows always. As for the shadow, it is only a shadow and will disappear in the growing Light.
On 3rd August 1960 the aircraft touched down, after some terrible bumps, at Bombay airport. I had a splitting headache which became sharper as each moment passed. It had been impossible for me to sleep in the plane. There was nothing glaring to declare at the customs. Two Officers after checking my British Passport asked me whether I wished to exchange pounds for rupees. I said "No". Mrs. Saralaben Shah welcomed me at the aerodrome and took me to her house where I stayed overnight. The next morning I flew to Madras where I was received by Laljibhai, his son Suresh and his Manager Mr. Pathak.
Nobody informed me that I was to meet the Mother that very afternoon. I was longing to see her. But everything was amazingly changed. I felt as if I were a stranger. My apartment also appeared alien to me. The whole night I passed wondering what world I had landed in. The Mother must have observed and tested my consciousness during the night in order to tune it up. The following morning, the 5th August, I took out from my suitcase a number of gifts for the Mother and kept them ready to offer her at 4 p.m.
I entered her Dressing Room and stood in front of her. She studied my face for a long moment, her eyes full of warmth and compassion for what seemed to me almost an eternity of time without words. Our eyes spoke to each other. Then slowly I knelt down at her feet. She folded me into her arms. The sweetness of relief filled my heart. My soul whispered: "Oh, at last to my true home!" I looked at her. Tears of joy streamed down at the sight of her. Time still lay suspended. Then finally she spoke:
You were pretty and now you are prettier.
My cheeks flushed, a slight smile touched my lips. The Mother said:
Didn't anybody inform you that I had been waiting for you yesterday?
I said: "Unfortunately, no." Then she saw all the things I had brought for her. She expressed her pleasure by touching and feeling them. She told me:
Child, come to me every day at 4 p.m.
I thanked her and took my leave. Thus I resumed my journey on the spiritual path.
The heat was enervating. I remembered desperately the most wonderful weather of London at that time of summer. I transported myself back in my thoughts to those days when I felt frozen in shivering waves of cold and recalled the heat of Pondicherry. Indeed, the human mind is so complicated. It doesn't get adjusted easily to the changing moods of seasons and situations. My only solace was to meet the Mother and talk to her. On 9th August she gave me the book, The Eternal Wisdom, to finish typing the quotations of the Second Part. The quotations of the First Part she had written to me when I had gone to East Africa in May 1958. She cautioned me that I should be very careful with the book, for she had only one copy. Then suddenly she asked me:
What perfume have you worn?
I said: "Apple-Blossom. Mother, do you like it? Tomorrow I'll bring the bottle for you. But, I am afraid, it has been used. Do you mind?" She smiled and said:
No, my child
So I brought her the perfume the succeeding day. There and then she sprayed it on herself and enjoyed its fragrance. She got up, opened her cupboard and took out a cut-glass bottle of rose-perfume and gave it to me saying:
Ah, my child, we exchange perfumes!
Those days I was often clad in slacks which she liked very much—she especially admired my butterfly white glasses. I was wearing lipstick. Some people remarked: "You have become fashionable." I said: "Why not?" People see only the outer appearance. If they were in the right consciousness, they would have a deeper impression of the way the Mother did her work in her children. Often interested people are led away by superficial observations. Some people thought that I had gone to London to get married and settle there. Some thought that I had gone for study, to take a job and earn money. They could not think otherwise. Their notions were petty, limited and meaningless. Their only intention was to hurt my feelings. But I did not care, because the Mother approved of my "fashion".
During my stay abroad I experienced many outer struggles, difficulties, troubles and setbacks. Nonetheless, all the experiences, good or bad, made me strong, steady and confident.
A few days later I showed the Mother the flowers and the bead-bag I had made in London. She regarded them with enthusiasm. She was amused to see the tools used for the flowers. Some flowers had become askew; she straightened them. I told her that I intended to make a rose-spray for her gold-silk dress which I would stitch and embroider with beads. She gave me a smile. Her eyes shone with delight.
Vasudha, who was present there, expressed her wish to learn the art of flower-making from me. Later the tools were made in Harpagon for Vasudha's Embroidery Department, and soon she would start her lessons.
Now it was Sri Aurobindo's birthday. The Mother distributed the following message to everyone:
The Mother of God A conscious and eternal Power is here Behind unhappiness and mortal birth And the error of Thought and blundering trudge of Time. The Mother of God, his sister and his spouse, Daughter of his wisdom, of his might the mate, She has leapt from the Transcendent secret breast To build her rainbow worlds of mind and life. Between the superconscient absolute Light And the Inconscient's vast unthinking toil In the rolling and routine of Matter's sleep And the somnambulist motion of the stars She forces on the cold unwilling Void Her adventure of Life, the passionate dreams of her lust. Amid the work of darker Powers she is here To heal the evils and mistakes of Space And change the tragedy of the ignorant world Into a Divine Comedy of joy And the laughter and the rapture of God's bliss. The Mother of God is master of our souls; We are the partners of his birth in Time, Inheritors we share his eternity.
The Mother of God
A conscious and eternal Power is here Behind unhappiness and mortal birth And the error of Thought and blundering trudge of Time. The Mother of God, his sister and his spouse, Daughter of his wisdom, of his might the mate, She has leapt from the Transcendent secret breast To build her rainbow worlds of mind and life. Between the superconscient absolute Light And the Inconscient's vast unthinking toil In the rolling and routine of Matter's sleep And the somnambulist motion of the stars She forces on the cold unwilling Void Her adventure of Life, the passionate dreams of her lust. Amid the work of darker Powers she is here To heal the evils and mistakes of Space And change the tragedy of the ignorant world Into a Divine Comedy of joy And the laughter and the rapture of God's bliss. The Mother of God is master of our souls; We are the partners of his birth in Time, Inheritors we share his eternity.
I finished typing the Second Part of The Eternal Wisdom. The Mother asked me to keep the scripts, which I still have with me. I asked the Mother what work I should do. She said: "I don't know." Then after a pause she asked:
Would you like to work in HEC? (Honesty Engineers and Contractors)
I answered: "No, Mother, I am sorry." Both of us remained quiet for a few minutes. She went into a trance. When she awoke, she stretched her hand towards the stool nearby and picked up a toy-rabbit with ruby eyes. While giving it to me she said:
This is from Paris. Isn't it cute? Child, take this rabbit with you when you go to sleep.
I said: "Eh, no, Mother, if I do so, it will turn into a distorted ball of wool. I'll cherish it as your sweet memento." She smiled and nodded. According to the Mother, a rabbit signifies Surrender. Wasn't she hinting to me to surrender exclusively to the Supreme Lord?
August came to a close. I painted the face of a woman and showed it to the Mother. She encouraged me:
I like it. I am very happy that you still remember the Truth. The beauty of the soul must come out.
Vasudha and two girls started learning to make artificial flowers from silk and other fabrics at my place. I made for the Mother a spray. which she admired and kept in her dressing room. But there was no precise work. Everything seemed unsettled and precarious. The joy of life was often eclipsed by depression and despondency. I tried to move away from the dark aura of recurrent distress and unhappiness. The hostile forces were worming their way up to possess my consciousness. I felt a sharp pang at the thought of how to reach my goal. My inner struggle began.
Unfailingly the Mother sent me white roses and "Prasad". I wanted very much to unburden my heart to her. A card dated 23rd August 1960 came from the Mother, depicting the picture-stamps of Mount Fuji and the Imperial Palace, Tokyo, and her words were:
Huta, My dear little child,
On the 12th September, I shall give you some time in the morning at 10 o'clock.
The clock pinged ten delicate notes as I walked into the Meditation Hall upstairs. There the Mother was sitting on her high-backed carved chair. She received me with flowers and a smile. I went down on my knees before her. She looked into my eyes deeply, searchingly. Countless questions welled up in me and passed unvoiced. Her eyes never broke contact with mine. Then slowly she closed them and slid into a trance for quite some time. Finally she spoke—her words seemed to quiver in the air like sudden music:
Child, do painting and the things you have learnt in London. Continue your French lessons at the Alliance Frangaise.
The Mother added with appreciation:
When you were in London I was watching all your movements from here. (Pointing at the centre of subtle vision between the eye-brows) In whatever situation you were, whatever difficulties you went through, your aspiration for the Divine was straight like a sword (gesture) I congratulate you.
When you came from London and met me, I was really amazed to see the flame of the aspiration grown more luminous, very high and steady.
I saw the vision of your aspiration in 1957 after our meditation in my room at the Playground But just now I saw the flame—erect—rising high up and then it merged into the golden Light above. As the huge sea-waves splash against rocks, and their glittering spray sprinkles all over, so this flame which merged into the Infinity of golden Light sent sprays of sparks flying on all sides and when they came down they showered on the world and enveloped it with Light.
Child, this was the beauty of your soul. This beauty is now established firmly in you and will never perish.
Paint the vision I have seen this morning.
The Mother paid me lavish compliments. I sat and stared with rapt attention. I said: "Mother, now I am getting old—there is so much to do in this life but time is running out. I am nowhere near my goal." Hot tears scalded my eyes. She held my hands and said with solicitude:
You are very young. Do you know that Yogis live for 125 years?
"Oh, but, Mother, I am not a Yogi and it is doubtful whether I shall ever be one." Tears refilled my eyes. She leaned down and regarded me more closely, her blue-grey eyes growing warm with an exquisite expression of compassion I had never witnessed before. Our love had stood the test of time.
That night I was musing over the time I had spent with the Mother in the morning. Her words about the Divine Beauty and the Higher Worlds kept ringing in my ears.
The Mother has written in Art—Revelation of Beauty:
In the physical world, of all things it is beauty that expresses best the Divine. The physical world is the world of form and the perfection of form is beauty. Beauty interprets, expresses, manifests the Eternal. Its role is to put all manifested nature in contact with the Eternal through the perfection of form, through harmony and a sense of the Ideal which uplifts and leads towards something higher
Sri Aurobindo's words are apt here:
Art can express eternal Truth, it is not limited to the expression of form and appearance.
The highest aim of the aesthetic being is to find the Divine through beauty; the highest Art is that which by an inspired use of significant and interpretative form unseals the door of the spirit.
My parents and all the family members were now in Pondicherry, because on 15th September 1960 the Mother was to inaugurate The New Horizon Sugar Mills Ltd. at Sacrur, about twelve miles from the town. She came there in the afternoon and pressed the button—the siren lifted its banshee voice. Then she saw the whole process of sugar-making. The huge rollers squeezed out the sugar-cane juice which was then pumped into large tanks to be heated, clarified with certain chemicals and then allowed to settle and dry. Finally the sugar was packed in big bags. The smell of heavy sweet molasses diffused everywhere.
There was a shower of rain which indicated the Divine's Grace. Afterwards the Mother went into the office and sat on the chair specially made for her. My father offered the Mother Rs. 51,000/-. All my family was photographed with her except me. One last snap was to be taken. I managed to come closer so that I too might come into the picture. Meanwhile Mr. Surendra Mohan Ghosh (M.P.) entered the room. I rose from my place at the sign of command in the Mother's eyes. I was disappointed—I had been left out.
The next morning I went to the Mother. She was with Vasudha in the small passage leading to Sri Aurobindo's room. She looked at me and started telling Vasudha something in French which I failed to comprehend. Her eyes twinkled for one instant as they met mine. She then disclosed:
Yesterday I saw you among your family members. You are quite different from them. You don't belong to them—you have come from another sphere (gesture lifting her index finger up).
Later Vasudha told me that the Mother had said the same thing to her in French. I laughed at my stupidity and thought: "I should not have been disturbed when I was not photographed."
To mark the occasion, a sweetmeat was prepared in the Ashram dining room from sugar given by my people.
On 17th September Mr. Manubhai Shah, the then Minister of Commerce and Industries, came from Delhi to attend the grand function given in his honour at The New Horizon Sugar Mills Ltd. The atmosphere was totally different from the earlier one—more material than spiritual.
On 19th September my parents and other family members left for their various destinations. I felt desolate and full of despair despite the Mother's words regarding my relationship with them. But I observed that she worked to break the attachment completely. Yet unfortunately it took me a pretty long time to become absolutely detached.
In spite of the unbearable heat I went to Vasudha's Embroidery Department at 2 p.m. to make on a special tambour-frame the Mother's golden-silk dress using the golden beads I had brought from London. There was also a plan in my mind to make a golden rose which would be stitched on the dress, and a small bead-bag the Mother might carry when she went for her outing in a car.
Apart from this work I attended in the morning for a short time the English literature and poetry class taken by Norman Dowsett. The most touching and amusing thing he told us in the class was: "Savitri is so absorbing that one day during the recess I started reading it and forgot all about the classes I was supposed to take, till the school closed."
The Mother asked me to work in The World Union Organisation. I began my work. It was raining heavily when I attended the first meeting. The Mother gave me leaves of Sweet Marjoram, "New Birth", and said with certitude:
Today is the new Birth of the World Union. Distribute these leaves to people present there.
I handed the leaves to the organisers with the Mother's message.
I worked for some time in the office of World Union according to the Mother's wish. During the work she encouraged me. But I never felt easy with my work, because it was not my real work. I was given numerous clippings from newspapers and psalms from the Bible—in extremely small print. I had to type forty to fifty pages, whose sense I could hardly understand. The idea of the organisers was to adopt the theory of Vinoba Bhave to go from place to place and preach. I thought his method was not in tune with Sri Aurobindo's Consciousness. My soul disagreed. I informed the Mother. Yet she insisted that I should continue my work. Then I went to her and gave concrete reasons why I wanted to leave the work. I showed her the Bible and told her:
Mother, first unity is to be formed in one's being, then among co¬workers: after that in the Ashram and in the town, gradually in India and finally in the world.
The Mother understood my point and set me free with these words:
Child, you are free. You have a glimpse of the Eternal Truth in your heart and this Truth must unite with the Supreme Truth.
One of the organisers came to persuade me to resume the work. I politely refused, and that was the end. However, the following message given to World Union by the Mother appealed to me very much:
The World is a unity—it has always been, and it is always so, even now it is so—it is not that it has not got the unity and the unity has to be brought in from outside and imposed upon it.
Only the world is not conscious of its unity. It has to be made conscious.
We consider now is the time most propitious for the endeavour.
For a new Force or Consciousness or Light—whatever you call the new element—has manifested into the world and the world now has the capacity to become conscious of its own unity.
Some quotations from Sri Aurobindo make us understand his position towards life:
My truth is one that rejects ignorance and falsehood and moves to the knowledge, rejects darkness and moves to the light, rejects egoism and moves to the Divine Self, rejects imperfections and moves to perfections.
My truth is not only the truth of Bhakti or of psychic development but also of knowledge, purity, divine strength and calm and of the raising of all these things from their mental, emotional and vital forms to their supramental reality.
I don 't believe in advertisement except for books, etc. and in propaganda except for politics and patent medicines. But for serious work it is a poison. It means either a stunt or a boom and stunts or booms exhaust the thing they carry on their crest and leave it lifeless and broken high and dry on the shores of nowhere—or it means a movement. A movement in the case of a work like mine means the founding of a school or a sect or some other damned nonsense. It means that hundreds or thousands of useless people join in and corrupt the work or reduce it to a pompous farce from which the Truth that was coming down recedes into a secrecy and silence. It is what has happened to the 'religions 'and is the reason for their failure.
Not the blind round of the material existence alone and not a retreat from the difficulty of life in the world into the silence of the Ineffable, but the bringing down of the peace and light and power of a greater divine Truth and Consciousness to transform Life is the endeavour today of the greatest spiritual seekers in India. Here in the heart of such an endeavour pursued through many years with a single-hearted purpose, living constantly in that all-founding peace and feeling the near and greatening descent of that light and power, the way becomes increasingly clear. One sees the soul of India ready to enter into the fullness of her heritage and the hour of an unparalleled greatness approaching when from her soil shall go forth the call and the leading to the highest destinies of the race.
I am not here to convert anyone; I do not preach to the world to come to me and I call no one. I am here to establish the divine life and the divine consciousness in those who of themselves feel the call to come to me and cleave to it and in no others.
On 24th November 1960—Realisation Day—the Mother handed this message, written by Sri Aurobindo, to all of us in the Meditation Hall upstairs:
Forsaking my godhead I have come down Here on the sordid earth, Ignorant, labouring, human grown Twixt the veils of death and birth. I have been digging deep and long In a horror of mud and mire A bed for the golden river's song, A home for the deathless fire.
I painted several paintings for the sake of study, but the Mother gave a meaning to each of them. I used to receive the endless flow of inspiration, but many a time I suppressed it. I should not have done this.
I felt that I must make the most of what I had learnt in London. Vasudha learnt to make a few flowers for her Embroidery Department, but owing to her heavy work she could not continue. A few ladies came but I felt that there was not enough response or enthusiasm. Later I realised that the Mother had altogether another plan for my future life, and I was harping on my own plan! Indeed, the human plans usually do not work except when we get true inspiration from the higher source and not from our material vital!
The inner churning was constant. After the darkest night of the past, there came the dawn of the future. At last I met my beloved Savitri! I was strangely and strongly inspired to express Savitri through paintings. I disclosed the matter to the Mother on 26th September when she met me at 4 p.m. She held my hands, a happy smile touched her mouth at my words. She responded:
You know, my child, I had a great wish to express through paintings the visions I had seen from 1904 onwards, but I had no time.
Here in the Ashram I encouraged several people before you were born, but without avail. Now you will fulfil my wish.
Much later I came across some writings of the old sadhaks regarding the painting that the Mother tried to teach them. They were Sanjiban, Anil Kumar, Jayantilal, Krishnalal and Nishi Kanto in the 1930s. All the hints direct and indirect about the spiritual paintings she had been giving me since 1956 came rushing back to me. After a deep contemplation she resumed:
I will help you constantly. I will take you to higher worlds and show you the Truth. You must remember the Truth and express it through painting.
I recalled the most revealing letters she had written to me about the higher worlds and about spiritual and occult painting. They proved to be a wonderful promise. Now my inner mind saw clearly that not only myself but the whole of humanity would benefit by this project. My life suddenly assumed a new purpose—a new meaning.
The following morning the Mother sent through Dyuman a Souvenir Book, The Mother. She had placed a lovely marker on page 49 and drawn attention to these lines from Sri Aurobindo with a red pencil:
What I am trying to do everywhere in the poem is to express exactly something seen, something felt or experienced.... Savitri is the record of a seeing, of an experience which is not of the common kind and is often very far from what the general human mind sees and experiences.
In the afternoon the Mother received me affectionately. Our eyes met—hers held the supreme promise. I smiled in acknowledgment. I knew within me that she would not sway once she had made up her mind. The Mother explained:
First you must do a painting on a small board with various colours—different blues, pinks, yellows, greens and reds. I will certainly help you. I will put my Force into you so there will be a link between two consciousnesses. Go ahead.
I said hesitatingly: "But, Mother, I am not very good at drawing, perspective and landscape. I have shown you the sketches I did in London. They are awful. How is it possible for me to express the Epic?" She shed light on the subject:
You see, these things are not necessary, because the Epic is full of visions and they can be expressed by giving only an impression. The most important thing is that in painting you must bring vibrations, feelings, liveliness and consciousness.
I said: "Mother, how can I paint until I read Savitri word by word? First I must understand the Epic intellectually." She lapsed into a trance for a few minutes. She opened her eyes and said in a thoughtful voice:
I'll see to it.
I could not help the surge of pleasure when I saw the Mother the following afternoon. She looked at me. Her eyes held a fathomless expression. A radiant smile on her face brightened the room. She spoke:
Do you know Purani? I am arranging your reading Savitri with him.
My Consciousness and Force will be present during your study.
She laid her hands over mine—with a light, firm pressure that was reassuring. Out of some far vacancy I heard myself avowing to her:
"Nothing can ever satisfy me except the Divine and His work."
The Mother ran a gentle hand over my forehead; I felt that I was being moulded like clay in her powerful hands. A sigh of great relief escaped me. I gathered together the white roses given by her, kissed them amid my tears of joy, pressed them against my heart and made my exit.
The Mother arranged my first reading of Savitri with Ambalal Purani on 21' October 1960. She said:
I shall be there with you, I mean my Consciousness, while you read Savitri
I commenced my study of the Epic with Mr. Purani in his room on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Meanwhile the Mother asked me to do some Savitri paintings according to selected verses.
Later, in order to test me, the Mother asked me to do some paintings of Savitri. So I painted 6 or 7 paintings with full enthusiasm without asking the Mother's guidance, inspiration and instructions. But it was sheer folly on my part. Nevertheless, the Mother saw them and asked me to alter them. Thus she encouraged me. Then I realised my mistake, because I could not make head or tail out of these paintings. Afterwards I never attempted to repeat my stupidity, because I knew that this type of painting was beyond my capacity. I needed the Mother's direct help. Now my inner being warned me to wait for the Mother to teach me, to guide me according to her vision and will.
Mr. Purani came to my apartment and saw the paintings. Then he entered my meditation room, remained absorbed for a second or two and wept. Afterwards he took his leave in utter silence. Later he revealed to me: "I experienced in that room an overwhelming Peace, the concrete Presence of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother."
On 10th October during Dipawali time Pondicherry was shaken by violent storms. The sky was darkening rapidly as nimbus clouds spread across it. Lightning flashed, a loud terrifying crack of ear-splitting thunder broke. A fierce squall of rain drenched everything heedlessly, mercilessly, the skies emptying themselves without restraint. All roads were rivers. A howling, fitful wild wind battered down trees, plants and flowers. It wailed, whistled and thumped. The electric poles were bent down, huge trees were uprooted and flung yards away. Houses were greatly damaged. The rain continued with fluctuations for twenty days. Ferocious storms like this had occurred in 1943—this I came to know from some people. The roof of my kitchen leaked and the room turned into a swimming pool! Thunder clapped without pause, lightning blazed and sizzled—a long glittering revengeful blade shearing the dark sky. I shuddered and cried with fright and could not sleep a wink. I sat, my face sunk into my crossed arms, and trembled. I went into a tizzy. The cause of the cyclonic rain involved something occult. But I have observed that ever since that day we have never had such a horrifying tempest in Pondicherry. Perhaps there must be a pact between the Mother and the Spirit of Rain.
As always I went to the Mother at 4 p.m. I forgot to take flowers for her. She said:
Child, you have brought your heart. It is like a flower.
Then suddenly she remarked:
Have you noticed that nowadays women grow their nails very long and paint them red? Don't the nails look as if they were dripping blood? Disgusting! I don't like this modern style.
There were moments when the Mother touched various subjects including the most material in order to voice her view.
Days drifted by—each more difficult than the last. Life was not easy.
1st November was my spiritual birthday. The Mother called me in the morning. I offered her a box, which she opened—there followed exclamations of pure delight at the sight of the golden-silk dress and the beaded bag I had made for her. She especially admired the golden rose attached to the dress. She gave me a big bouquet and a card. After a moment's silence she said:
Now the Divine Beauty is establishing itself in this world. You are the true child of this Beauty. We are going to express the beauties of the Higher Worlds through paintings.
The Mother had countless visions as well as the practical ability to make her visions a reality.
In the afternoon at the "Prosperity" she wore the dress I had offered her. When she saw me her eyes sparkled. My face lit up at the golden-silk dress which suited her admirably. Later Vasudha reported to me the Mother's compliment:
The girl is doing lovely things for me. She is very clever
The Mother called me on 22nd December 1960 to the Meditation Hall upstairs and made me understand the truth of life. Later I noted down what she had said and sent it to her for confirmation. Here is her talk:
Child, you must be obstinate. You see, the Supreme Lord himself is very obstinate. He persists in His aim of taking away all obscurity, inertia and unhappiness from human beings and making them perfect. This process goes on in an endless cycle. He does not change human beings suddenly. Everything has its own time.
Failure always comes in human life but even he who fails can go one step forward to his goal. Not a single person can escape from misery, difficulty and failure.
A few people seem highly educated and intellectual, they are praised by many for their remarkable work and success, but, after all, these 'wise' people are full of ignorance, and in the end they fail to achieve their goal.
A person gets married, has children and all the rest, he is not happy at all. At the end he falls into the chasm of death and again he comes into this world. This goes on and on and on until he finds the Truth.
This world is the only place where man can progress and lessen the burden of his past life and present life and get ready for the next more fortunate birth to find something higher and more beautiful. It is only here in this world that you are given the opportunity to progress towards the Eternal.
I have seen many other worlds, which are dull, grey and full of darkness, where people are bored and are groping to find happiness.
I know the beginning of the world and its end up to Eternity. Your failure is that of your past birth and not of your present birth. Failure is nothing but a step forward to your success. You will have to dig in each step carefully and set your feet firmly and proceed in future to the Truth. But you must be obstinate.
The highest cannot be realised until one becomes perfect. It takes years after years, century after century. However, you must be obstinate like the Supreme Lord. Be more and more obstinate in front of your own defects.
Life is not so simple and straight. It is like the waves of an ocean. Do not care about what people say. They are ignorant—their judgement leads you nowhere.
Remain in the vastness of Supreme Love, Truth, Light and Peace. This is the Law of the Supreme.
Yes, whatever the Mother had said was true. But I knew within myself that I had to fight yet another gigantic battalion of the hostile forces, in order to come out purified from the obscurity of the lower elements. I wanted very much to be a true and perfect child of the Mother, and for that I was fully prepared within my true self to face the most severe ordeals. It was a challenge of my soul to the dark forces. My struggle already had begun,
I used to go to the Mother in the afternoon, but also sometimes in the morning. She told me something about painting and spirituality.
I heard some people talking about me after my coming from London. I told the Mother. She gave me one of her photographs in which she looks up, with her blessings. She gave me the meaning of her picture: "Realisation". After pointing to the pose she advised:
Child, you see, here I look upward. I always do so. Beauty, Peace and Light are there above. They are ready to come down. Aspire always by looking up to them to manifest upon earth.
Never, never look down at the filth of falsehood—the ugly things of the world. Always look up towards the luminous and beautiful things.
Look upward with me and there you will find the Supreme Truth.
The Mother has stated about her photographs:
In each photo it is a different aspect of myself which is revealed It is an entity that is present there; it is not just a picture on a piece of paper, but a living Presence, a vibrant Force and an entity or an emanation which is projected and has a tremendous power of action and means of execution.
Anyway, it is a part of myself materialised, concrete, which is revealed in such a way that the Force acts through the photo itself because my Presence is living there and a portion of myself is manifested in the photo.
With these luminous words came the end of the year 1960.
It was a fine morning—1st January 1961. I went to the Samadhi for pranam. The fragrance of flowers and aroma of incense sticks permeated the air. People were sitting near the Samadhi in utter silence. After climbing the staircase to the north of the Samadhi, I sat in the corridor. A few people were already there. A swish of the Mother's elegant gown caught my ears. I looked up. Her mouth quivered in a fleeting smile as she crossed the corridor, leaving a trail of her French perfume, and entered Pavitra's (P. B. Saint-Hilaire's) study. The Mother announced the New Year message, first in French and then in English:
1961.
This wonderful world of delight waiting at our gates for our call, to come down upon earth...
Then she played on the organ. Her music drew us into meditation.
In connection with her photograph "Realisation", which the Mother gave me in December 1960, she has revealed the following:
This world of Delight above us is waiting- not for us to be ready but for us to accept, for us to consent to receive it!
This is what I am looking at in this photograph. In fact, this is what I am pulling down.
In the afternoon the Mother distributed calendars to all of us with her blessings.
As always the Mother gave me diaries to write my journal. At night, when everything was hushed, I opened one of them. I wrote: "I do not know what is hidden behind the mask of the approaching months. Everything seems frightfully hazy." A subtle fear crept on me. There were countless defects lying in the dark nooks and corners of my subconscient, which had to come under the Mother's Light and change. It was not easy to tackle the obscure, obstinate and rock-like subconscient. A cold tremor ran through my body.
After all, human beings have a sprinkle of saint and sinner in them. The Mother pointed out to me my numerous defects and faults directly and indirectly to make me collaborate totally with her work in me. Since I was conscious, I was desperate to improve and convert myself. But unfortunately the psychological struggle and setbacks were so acute that many a time I could not think straight. I was abysmally ignorant.
On the 21st morning on Saraswati Puja-day the Mother came to the Meditation Hall downstairs to distribute folders. She looked grand in her sari. People filed past her to receive them. When my turn came I saw her eyes enormous, shimmering lakes of sympathy and love. I opened the folder and found five different photographs of her. Underneath them she had inscribed their meanings:
Trust, realisation, aspiration, certitude, perception.
There was also a line from Savitri in her own handwriting:
Forever love, O beautiful slave of God!
I felt constantly that it was too tough a job to be perfect. Time was running out. I wrote to the Mother in this regard. She answered on 31st January 1961:
First of all, it is never too late.
From the point of view of spiritual realisation, the time has no concrete reality; all depends on the sincerity and intensity of the aspiration, on the steadiness of the effort. Some can do in a few weeks and even days, what takes years for others. Moreover, as the mind and the vital, the chief factors of progress, are not submitted to the same rules of decay as the material body, the age factor loses all its importance when we speak of spiritual and intellectual growth; there is no time limit nor age limit for the mental progress which can go on steadily for hundreds of years.
Secondly, failure is not the sign of incapacity—far from that.
Repeated failures come always to those who have something exceptional to do; it is only those who are satisfied with a commonplace and ordinary realisation who succeed easily in what they attempt to do.
The natures of a special value have always to face many ordeals.
And thirdly, when I say to take refuge in the Divine's love, I do not mean that it is all sufficient in itself. Not so, personal effort and favourable circumstances are also necessary for the promptness of the advance. But those who can take refuge in the Divine's love, find there a support, a protection and a joy that gives them strength to face all the ordeals and surmount all the difficulties.
I am always ready to help you according to my possibilities, and I need not tell you my love—you know it.
If I had not gone through difficult times, I would have never grasped the true meaning, the true purpose of life. I am extremely lucky that the Mother guided me directly and put me on the path which leads to the Supreme Truth and the Supreme Love. My whole being aspires for nothing but everlasting union with the Divine. Sri Aurobindo's promising words are really encouraging:
In the end a union, a closeness, a contact, companionship in the soul with the Divine, and yet more wonderful oneness in living.
Now it was February 1961. I was busy making a beaded hand-bag and a gown for the Mother. Every day the Mother sent me white roses and Prasad. She told me that she had put a special force in it. Every day in the afternoon I went to see her. Savitri-reading with Ambalal Purani was going on well. All other subjects seemed flat in comparison with this wonderful subject. Still there was no indication from the Mother about commencing the work of Savitri-paintings. The Mother kept quiet about her direct guidance to this project. Perhaps she was testing me and preparing me for the task, I thought.
My main trouble was an inferiority complex which seemed a chronic disease—an endless nightmare. I had gone to London to gain confidence. True.
Yet I felt that I was nobody in front of "intelligent" and "wise" people. I was hypersensitive and ultra-emotional. I thought that it was too late for me to do anything worthwhile. It would take an eternity to find the Divine Life. Time and age could not wait. They slipped by too rapidly.
I received from the Mother a letter dated 7th February 1961 in answer to mine:
You ask me what you must do. It would be better to ask what you must be, because the circumstances and activities in life have not much importance. What is important is our way of reacting towards them.
Human nature is such that when you concentrate on your body you fall ill, when you concentrate on your heart and feelings you become unhappy, when you concentrate on the mind you get bewildered.
There are two ways of getting out of this precarious condition.
One is very arduous; it is a severe and continuous tapasya. It is the way of the strong who are predestined for it.
The other is to find something worth concentrating upon that diverts your attention from your small personal self. The most effective is a big ideal, but there are innumerable things that enter into this category. Most commonly people choose marriage because it is the most easily available. To love somebody and to love children makes you busy and compels you to forget a little your own self But it is rarely successful, because love is not a common thing.
Others turn to art, others to science, some choose a social or a political life, etc., etc.
But here also all depends on the sincerity and endurance with which is followed the chosen path. Because here also there are difficulties and obstacles to surmount.
So in life, nothing comes without an effort and a struggle, then it is better to accept the fact that life will be dull and unsatisfactory and submit quietly to this fact.
This, my dear child, is the first point I must make clear to you before proceeding any further.
The Mother read out this letter to Satprem who recorded it on 7th February 1961. She, taking up the theme of my letter, made various comments about her body and the trials it had gone through.
Readers may note that many of the things the Mother told Satprem about spirituality and occultism—especially in connection with the cells of her body and their transformation—she told me also, a shade differently but essentially covering the same truths. In addition, she gave me concrete experiences of both the higher and the nether worlds—particularly when she started guiding me as regards Savitri-paintings in October 1961. My account of the matter will be packed with things splendid as well as things that must cause a shudder. Each painting has its own history. The Mother commented on many pictures. She has also written letters on them.
Whether I liked to undergo the hideous difficulties or not, I was compelled to accept them to purify my whole being and to prepare myself for the higher Consciousness. I was inspired to write a letter to the Mother on 9th February 1961 expressing that I should make my life worth living by doing something concrete and genuine which might be profitable to others. The Mother replied:
I have read your excellent letter and mostly agree with what you write. The best indeed, is that we should have a good talk together.
So I shall see you tomorrow the 10th at 10 a.m.
We had a "good talk" about what I should do and become. My soul's prayer to her was: "O Mother, make me your true and perfect child, and use my whole life for your purpose." The Mother held my hands, looked deeply into my eyes for a long unfathomable moment and then said:
I will take you to your goal. Your aspiration will be fulfilled.
And she smiled reassuringly. She went into a trance for a few moments, then opened her eyes and said:
Behind all troubles, behind all difficulties, there is the Divine Grace. When you are on the point of falling down and actually fall, the Grace appears.
Sri Aurobindo has written something similar:
The Divine holds our hand through all and if he seems to let us fall, it is only to raise us higher
On the 15th there was heavy rain. The weather was unpredictable.
But now the climate changed. It was getting very warm. I was absorbed in reading detective stories. It seemed that half of the night I became a detective searching for the criminal and the other half I sojourned in unknown worlds. Sometimes I painted certain "studies" as the inner feeling guided me.
The Mother and I were anxious to get from Bombay the prints of my pictures along with my original paintings. Meanwhile one picture went to Germany for a colour block and prints to be made.
Usually before Darshans the Mother came to the Meditation Hall downstairs to distribute saris and napkins to people. On the 19th, Sunday, she did so. The Mother's birthday was approaching: she would be 83. I went to her and offered the gown and the beaded bag. She liked both of them enormously, and said enthusiastically that she would carry the bag when she went out.
On her birthday she handed this message to all in the Meditation Hall upstairs. As always the atmosphere was heavenly. The message ran:
Once the connection between the supramental and the human consciousness is made, it is the psychic being that gives the readiest response—more ready than the mind, the vital or the physical. It may be added that it is also a purer response; the mind, vital and physical can allow other things to mix with their reception of the supramental influence and spoil its truth. The psychic is pure in its response and allows no such mixture.
The supramental change can take place only if the psychic is awake and is made the chief support of the descending supramental power
In the evening the Mother went to the Playground for the programme of music played by the children and finally the Band. It was a pleasure to see my bag in her hand.
Days passed too rapidly. I sent to the Mother one of my paintings. She commented on the 28th:
This painting is so nice—I like it very much. I have started revising your 'report' and will give it when it is completed.
I read your letter and understand not only what you mean but also what you want.
And that was the end of the month of February.
On 29th March 1961 the Mother completed 47 years since first coming to Pondicherry. She came to Pondicherry on 29th March 1914 to meet Sri Aurobindo.
The Mother herself gave me the following message which was an answer to my complex mind.
Our Path
To walk on the path you must have a dauntless intrepidity, you must never turn back upon yourself with this mean, petty, weak, ugly movement that fear is.
An indomitable courage, a perfect sincerity, a total self-giving to the extent that you do not calculate or bargain, you do not give with the idea of receiving, you do not offer yourself with the intention of being protected, you do not have a faith that needs proofs,
—this is indispensable for advancing on the path,
—this alone can shelter you against all dangers.
On 29th May 1961 I tried to paint a face—I left the half-done work and went to another room to fetch something. One of my elder sister's sons, who had come to Pondicherry to stay downstairs with Laljibhai and his family during his vacation, was in my studio. In a split second he ruined the painting by applying black pigment on the upper lip to show a moustache, and disappeared. I felt terribly bad. Now nothing could be done despite my trying to alter the picture. But late at night a powerful inspiration came like a streak of lightning. I rushed to my easel, concentrated and re-did the face on which I had been working earlier. The following morning I sent the picture along with my note:
My dearest Mother,
I wished to paint something beautiful but this picture I am sending has turned out otherwise.
Her prompt answer ran:
30.5.61
Well! I do not know what you wished to do, but I know what you have done—it is simply exquisite, charm itself and so attractive! There is here a very real progress that opens lots of possibilities for the future.
With love Bravo!
When the Mother and I met in the afternoon in her dressing room, her eyes were aglow with delight. She said with a smile:
This morning as soon as I opened the box you had sent me with the painting, I saw the same white Divine Flame which I had seen last night and at once I knew what It exactly was.
You see, late last night I saw a light in your studio from my window, I was worried and wondered whether you were all right. Meanwhile I was amazed to see the white Divine Flame around you, and I was much relieved, because you were safe in Its Presence.
Then she spoke something about new birth, which I could not grasp. So I wrote to her for an explanation. She replied:
31.5.61
I shall see you on 5th June at 10 a.m. When I speak of "New Birth" I am always speaking of the birth of a new consciousness. This time it was the birth (that is, the expression) of a higher artistic consciousness.
The Mother has stated about the "New Birth":
What is called 'New Birth' is the birth into the spiritual life, into the spiritual consciousness: it is to carry in oneself something of the Spirit which, through the individual soul, can begin to govern the life and be the master of one's existence. In the supramental world it is the Spirit which will become the master of this world in its entirety and of all its manifestations and all its expressions consciously, spontaneously, naturally.
Instantly my memory flew back to the year 1957, when the Mother had been teaching me painting right from the very beginning. At that time she had said:
Here you must remember that the growth of consciousness is indispensable for your painting, because what you learn from books or from professors is of no use until you get into the higher true artistic consciousness.
I had crossed the barrier and was on the other side. This was the starting point of vast vistas opening before me. I felt that the Mother would unfold for me the scrolls of secret and sacred knowledge of the other worlds.
Then the Mother gave the meaning and got this painting printed.
Soul of Beauty
Later the picture appeared in several magazines.
The month of August 1961 started. I was fed up with the monotony of life which I felt was ambiguous and full of uncertainty. There was no absorbing, creative work except that I read Savitri with Ambalal Purani. I also stitched the Mother's dresses. Thus the time passed with anxiety for the future. As day followed day, I groped in vain for a pattern to my life which was hazy, haphazard. Most of the time I did nothing except eating, sleeping and reading detective novels. This was certainly not my aim and aspiration. I had been pulled down and had found no way out. I thought that if such was life it was not worth living. Panic enveloped me.
On 1st September 1961, my physical birthday, the Mother called me to the Meditation Hall upstairs and gave me a folder. When I opened it, I found my own paintings on either side. One was "Soul of Beauty", and the other was a vision the Mother had seen in my heart and asked me to paint in 1957. Underneath the picture these lines from Sri Aurobindo's Savitri were inscribed:
This golden figure... Hid in its breast the key of all his aims, A spell to bring the Immortal's bliss on earth. ||102.42||
The Mother looked at me for a few seconds. Then her eyes closed gradually. She slid into a profound trance which lasted more than ten minutes. On opening her eyes she said:
I achieved in my tender age the highest occult truths. I have realised and seen all the visions set forth in Savitri.
Actually I experienced the poem's supreme revelations before I arrived in Pondicherry and before Sri Aurobindo read out Savitri to me early in the morning day after day at a certain period of the Ashram. I never told Sri Aurobindo all that I had seen in my visions beforehand...
She laughed softly, sweetly and resumed:
I have seen the beauties and wonders of the higher worlds. Now I think of expressing them in painting by various colours—blues, golds, pinks and whites—with certain vibrations of Light—all in harmony forming the New World.
I wish to bring down upon earth this New World Since I have no time physically, I will paint through you.
The world of Supreme Beauty exists. I shall take you there, you will see the things, remember them and then express them in paintings.
Yes, yes, my will shall be done—the Supreme Beauties exist. I will certainly take you there.
I see the butterfly ready in the cocoon. I do not wish it to come out soon, but gradually. Then after emerging from the chrysalis you will have enough knowledge to reach your goal.
Once again the Mother closed her eyes—a slight smile hovering on her lips. When she awoke, she said:
I realised the Divine in my early twenties, your age!
You see, the Inner Divinity is Omnipotence, Omniscience, Omnipresence.
This Divinity is constantly with me—guiding and inspiring me.
The Mother gave her blessings in musical words—so significant—so true. They simply swept on my life a gentle refreshing breeze that had come out of the dawn of a summer day. We meditated for a few minutes. Then she gave me flowers and kissed on my forehead. I held her hands and said eagerly: "Oh, haven't yet realised the Divine." She smiled and assured me:
You will.
Further she added:
You see, there are two ways; the Occult Knowledge is rather easier than Spiritual Knowledge.
I have learnt real spiritual things when I came here. But, of course, everything was within myself: though not physically.
The Yoga of Transformation is very difficult. It takes 30 years or more.
For occultism one needs a Guru. But spirituality can be transferred (she made a gesture moving her index finger from the middle of her chest on towards my heart) like this.
The following message dated 6th September 1961 from the Mother uplifts our consciousness:
We are not here to do (a little better) what the others do. We are here to do what the others cannot do, because they do not have even the idea that it can be done. We are here to open the way of the future. Anything else is not worth the trouble and not worthy of Sri Aurobindos help.
I used to read Savitri with Ambalal Purani according to the Mother's arrangement. We finished reading Book One. Meanwhile he went to the UK and the United States. After he had returned from abroad, he fell ill. In 1965 he passed away. So the Mother arranged for me to read Savitri with Amal Kiran (K.D. Sethna) in 1962. Sri Aurobindo first introduced Savitri to Amal in private drafts, and wrote to him all the letters that are now published along with the epic. Amal and I met for the first time in 1961, upstairs in the passage which connects the Mother's and Sri Aurobindo's rooms. I casually asked him about a chess board, because just then the Mother and I were doing something on that theme. He drew one and made me understand it.
When we started our reading of Savitri, some people warned Amal against me and asked him to discontinue. Amal cut them short, saying, "The Mother has arranged our reading. Besides, I have seen and felt Huta's soul. I cannot back out."
Amal made me understand Savitri intellectually and aesthetically. As soon as he left my apartment after our study sessions, I used to write down what he had explained to me in detail. I have numerous cherished notebooks which are of great value to me.
It was 7th August 1965 when I finished reading the whole of Savitri with Amal. I could not check my tears of joy. He too was moved. We shook hands over the long harmonious collaboration and absorbing discussions. That day in the afternoon I went to the Mother to inform her about it. She smiled, heaved a sigh of happiness, and said:
Ah, one big work is done.
Here are Amal's own words, published in the Mother India Monthly Review of Culture in May 1979, on page 276:
An appreciative treatment of Savitri in its poetic quality—an elucidation of its thought-content, its imagery-inspiration, its word-craft and its rhythm-impact: this [the Mother] did not consider as beyond another interpreter than herself. I can conclude thus because she fully approved Huta's proposal to her that I should go through the whole of the epic with Huta during the period when the Mother and she were doing the illustrations of the poem, the Mother making outline sketches or suggesting the general disposition of the required picture and Huta following her instructions, invoking Sri Aurobindo's spiritual help, keeping the Mother's presence constantly linked to both her heart and hand and producing the final finished painting.
It was a long-drawn-out pleasure—my study-sessions with the young artist who proved to be a most eager and receptive pupil, indeed so receptive that on a few occasions, with my expository enthusiasm serving as a spur, she would come out with ideas that taught a thing or two to the teacher.
I never knew he would write such a thing about me. I always marvelled at his modesty, selflessness and goodwill.
Here is Amal Kiran's (K.D. Sethna) letter dated 4th December 1974 to me about the Mother's visions of Savitri:
Dear Huta, May I make a request to you? You are free to say "No" without feeling any embarrassment. I remember that in your diary there is a statement by the Mother that before she came here she went through all possible occult experiences. She never told them to Sri Aurobindo but later she found them all expressed in his Savitri. I should like very much to publish this statement in the February Mother India. Will you permit me and, if you do, will you please send me as soon as possible the exact words as reported by you? I shall be thankful and, of course, I'll mention that they are from you. Yours affectionately, Amal
Dear Huta,
May I make a request to you? You are free to say "No" without feeling any embarrassment. I remember that in your diary there is a statement by the Mother that before she came here she went through all possible occult experiences. She never told them to Sri Aurobindo but later she found them all expressed in his Savitri. I should like very much to publish this statement in the February Mother India. Will you permit me and, if you do, will you please send me as soon as possible the exact words as reported by you? I shall be thankful and, of course, I'll mention that they are from you.
Yours affectionately, Amal
Later Amal gave the account of this matter in Mother India's issue of November 1982 and not in that of February 1975.
There was no precise work. I had nothing to do. My life seemed like dry husks—flying in any direction. There was no solidity in my whole being, which was shaken to the core. I was suffocated and longed to get out of my old self to achieve something higher, something new. There was no indication from the Mother to start doing the Savitri paintings. Once again I was worried and thought: how was it possible to express the whole Epic through painting?
Every day in the afternoon I went to the Mother to receive lovely flowers and her charming smile. But still I was not happy and peaceful. It was only for the Mother's Love that I continued to live, otherwise there was no point.
The Mother kept quiet regarding the Savitri paintings. My whole being was shaken and cut into pieces. The tremendous churning went on and on in me. Many a time I sat in my Meditation Room and wept bitterly—just to lighten my heart. I thought to myself: "Oh what to do, where to go, what will happen?" Not a single human being knew the truth except the Mother.
Now the month of October 1961 had arrived—slowly, like a benediction, hope and peace diffused in my whole being. The Mother called me to the Meditation Room upstairs on 6th October 1961 in the morning at 10 a.m. to take up the work of Savitri painting. She and I exchanged flowers and smiles. Then I looked at her eagerly to show me how to do the first painting. I felt as if the doors of hidden worlds were going to open before me. From the Mother's expression I gathered that now I would always be submerged in this wonderful consciousness from where I would never come out. And it is true so far!
The date 6th was auspicious—according to the Mother, the number 6 signifies "New Creation". The Mother sat on the high-backed carved chair with her radiant smile. She received me cordially. Then she was absolutely indrawn in sheer silence. After her deep contemplation she looked at me—unblinking—then there was the sudden flicker of a smile in her eyes when she spoke:
Child, have you thought of painting the jacket of the book which will be published after we have finished some paintings of Savitri?
Once more she lapsed into a profound trance. She awoke, took a piece of paper and a pencil and drew a cover picture. She explained:
Show the descent of the Supreme Mother. A flash of white Light forming the feet which rest on the globe of the earth. Don't forget to paint the outline of a lotus which must be mingled with the white Light.
She also made me understand the colour-scheme. Then she held my hands, pressed them in order to fill them with her Consciousness. She kissed my forehead.
With a blank mind I reached my apartment, sat on a chair in my studio where the Mother herself had sat when she had declared open my apartment on 10th February 1958. There was the jumble of colour-tubes, brushes, palette, knives, distilled turpentine, linseed oil and rags. I put the canvas board on the easel and squeezed liberal quantities of pigments on a palette. The Mother had shown me how to arrange colours on the palette when she had started teaching me painting on 11th December 1956. I finished the painting and sent it to the Mother that very morning. She returned it along with a note:
There is no need of changing anything. It is excellent.
A feeling of immense happiness and satisfaction warmed my heart. This was how our Savitri work began.
The Mother valued more the true feeling and right consciousness than any precise and decorative work without life, and the vibration of Light which alone can give life and vividness of colours to every scene.
In the morning the Mother revealed her visions for each painting by doing sketches and explained the colour schemes. I would go to my apartment and do the picture in order to show it to the Mother in the afternoon. There was no time to rest. Thus I was doing one painting a day. I went to the Mother twice—in the morning and in the afternoon. Along with instructing and guiding me about Savitri paintings, she disclosed the hidden truth behind them. Now my life assumed a regular pattern.
It is impossible for me to give the full description of all the Savitri paintings here. But I shall try to convey glimpses of some of them.
The second picture depicted the incessant wheeling.
Athwart the vain enormous trance of Space, Its formless stupor without mind or life, A shadow spinning through a soulless Void, Thrown back once more into unthinking dreams, Earth wheeled abandoned in the hollow gulfs Forgetful of her spirit and her fate. ||1.6||
When the Mother saw the painting, she made a gesture with her right hand—moving a finger round and round as if there was no end to the same tardy process of the Earth which went on and on. Then she laughed and said:
Ah! Nobody can escape this wheel!
On the morning of 13th October 1961 the Mother explained to me the third picture:
Then something in the inscrutable darkness stirred; A nameless movement, an unthought Idea Insistent, dissatisfied, without an aim, Something that wished but knew not how to be, Teased the Inconscient to wake Ignorance. ||1.8||
Before noon I sent to the Mother the painting along with a note saying:
"Mother, dear, this is this!"
She wrote underneath:
And this is all right. It says what it has to say.
She kept the painting. When I went to her in the afternoon, she looked at it over and over again and admired it immensely.
The fourth picture:
An unshaped consciousness desired light And a blank prescience yearned towards distant change. ||1.11|| As if a childlike finger laid on a cheek Reminded of the endless need in things The heedless Mother of the universe, An infant longing clutched the sombre Vast. ||1.12||
I did the painting on the 15th. This too I sent to the Mother with the scribble:
"Mother, dear, here we are!"
She inscribed beneath:
In a very good position!
On 17th October 1961 the Mother distributed the following Message on Durga Puja:
Durga is the Mother's power of Protection.
Those who are not straightforward cannot profit by the Mother 's help, for they themselves turn it away. Unless they change, they cannot hope for the descent of the Supramental Light and Truth into the lower vital and physical nature; they remain stuck in their own self-created mud and cannot progress.
On the 19th—Vijaya Dashmi day—she gave this Message:
You must make grow in you the peace that is born of the certitude of Victory.
On the 23rd, the Mahalakshmi Puja, once again the Mother handed to all the following Message written by Sri Aurobindo:
Matter is but a form of Consciousness; nevertheless solve not the object entirely into its subjectivity. Reject not the body of God, O God lover, but keep it for thy joy; for His body too is delightful even as His spirit.
After a lapse of seven days the Mother explained to me the fifth picture.
Arrived from the other side of boundlessness An eye of deity pierced through the dumb deeps; A scout in a reconnaissance from the sun, It seemed amid a heavy cosmic rest, The torpor of a sick and weary world, To seek for a spirit sole and desolate Too fallen to recollect forgotten bliss. ||1.14||
She drew a sketch and instructed me:
No eye lashes, no brows: only the eye-ball turned downward—from the pupil the rays of white Light spreading out.
I did the painting, but, since the Mother was going to the Prosperity Room in the afternoon, she saw the painting on the 2nd November in the morning and was very pleased with it. Then she went into a trance for about ten minutes. When she awoke the Mother related her experience to me:
Many, many years ago I discussed the Integral Yoga with Pavitra—[Philippe Barbier Saint-Hilaire] while walking in Pondicherry Botanical Gardens. I was talking to him about the refinement in material life—its sensations and movements. When we were walking in a certain lane, there did not seem any sign of flowers. But while coming back to the same spot after a long walk, we saw a bush full of white flowers. The flowers were those that signify refinement—artistic, material. The shape of the white flowers was like that of the blue flowers—Radhas Consciousness [Clitoria ternatea].
The flower the Mother had mentioned was Gliricidia Sepium. She gave this meaning to the flower:
Refinement of Habits. Ordered, neat and regular in their organised action.
Pavitra—P.B.St.Hilaire—was given the name by Sri Aurobindo. Often he was with the Mother—driving her car, accompanying her wherever she went. He was also the Director of the Sri Aurobindo Centre of Education. Moreover he handled foreign correspondence for the Mother. He designed the Central Park in front of the Governor's House. He also supervised its laying out.
There is the Botanical Garden in Pondicherry set up by French botanists in 1825-26. The Garden is situated to the South-West of the town. During 1829 hundreds of plants, mostly medicinal ones, were grown in an area of several thousand square metres. More than 800 species were collected from various French Colonies. There were petrified tree-trunks. Also there was held a show of flowers, vegetables and fruits every year in February. The garden is packed with flowers, shrubs, creepers, tall trees, a nursery and varieties of plants. It has been made into a Public Park.
The Mother explained to me the sixth picture.
All can be done if the God-touch is there. ||1.17|| A hope stole in that hardly dared to be Amid the Night's forlorn indifference.... ||1.18|| Into a far-off nook of heaven there came A slow miraculous gesture's dim appeal.... ||1.19|| A wandering hand of pale enchanted light That glowed along a fading moment's brink, Fixed with gold panel and opalescent hinge A gate of dreams ajar on mystery verge. ||1.21||
She instructed me:
You must show in your painting rays of White Light streaming out from all the fingers of the "wandering hand".
I did so according to the Mother's wish.
In reality, from the occult point of view, the White Light flowed from the Mother's own fingers. About the White Light the Mother disclosed:
From my very childhood I felt it, this flame—a white flame.
It was always like that: a flame—white, white, so white that nothing could prevent it from being white.
Sri Aurobindo has thrown more light on the subject:
The white light is the Mother's Light. Wherever it descends or enters, it brings peace, purity, silence and openness to the higher forces.
Sri Aurobindo says:
The White Light is a manifestation of pure divine force descending from one of the truth planes leading to the Supramental.
Sri Aurorindo on the Mother
The Mother's consciousness is the divine consciousness and the Light that comes from it is the light of the Divine Truth. One who receives and accepts and lives in the Mother's light, will begin to see the truth on all planes, the mental, the vital, the physical. He will reject all that is undivine,—the undivine is the falsehood, the ignorance, the error of the dark forces; the undivine is all that is obscure and unwilling to accept the Divine Truth and its light and force. The undivine, therefore, is all that is unwilling to accept the light and force of the Mother That is why I am always telling you to keep in contact with the Mother and her Light and Force, because it is only so that you can come out of this confusion and obscurity and receive the Truth that comes from above.
When we speak of the Mother's Light or my Light in a special sense, we are speaking of a special occult action—we are speaking of certain lights that come from the Supermind. In this action the Mother's is the White Light that purifies, illumines, brings down the whole essence and power of the Truth and makes the transformation possible. But in fact all light that comes from above from the highest divine Truth is the Mother's.
There is no difference between the Mother's path and mine; we have and always had the same path that leads to the supramental change and the divine realisation; not only at the end, but from the beginning they have been the same.
On 4th November 1961 she made me understand the eighth picture of the same book, the same canto:
The darkness failed and slipped like a falling cloak From the reclining body of a god.
She went into a deep meditation for quite a long time. When she opened her eyes, I felt as if she were still dreaming. The Mother said:
I saw in 1904 the vision of a Spirit when I went into the Inconscient. The form of this Spirit was neither of man nor of woman. Nor was it Vishnu or Shiva or Krishna.
Once again she closed her eyes to recall what she had seen in the fathomless darkness. When she awoke she instructed me:
Child, you must paint a pale gold reclining figure of a God. His right cheek is resting on his right palm. His head with long golden hair is on a white cushion. And in the background you must show a myriad rainbow hues of opals. Also the black colour of the darkness sliding off Him.
You see, my child, this Being is the first Avatar from the Transcendent.
The Mother has stated in one of her writings:
I saw a Being of irised light reclining with his head on his hand, fast asleep.
All the light around him was iridescent.
When I told Theon what I was seeing, he said it was "The Immanent God in the depth of the Inconscient."
According to Sri Aurobindo the Inconscient is the Superconscient's sleep.
That experience of descending to the very bottom of the Inconscient and finding there the Divine Consciousness, the Divine Presence, in one form or another has happened quite frequently.
...And it is remarkable that this marvellous Being strangely resembled him whose vision I had one day: the Being who is found at the other extremity—at the borderline of the form and the Formless. Only the latter was in a golden glory, carmine, while in its sleep this other Being was diamond White, emanating opalescent rays.
That, in fact, is the original of all the Avatars.
According to the Mother:
The Avatar—the Supreme manifested on Earth in a body.
Sri Aurobindo states:
The Avatar is necessary when a special work is to be done and in crises of the evolution. The Avatar is a special manifestation while for the rest of the time it is the Divine working within the ordinary human limits as a Vibhuti.
It was difficult to paint rainbow colours. I could not finish the painting. That very night I had a vision:
The shimmering waves of the divine white Light enveloped me as they turned into brilliant multi-colours. They were in gradations—from pale blue to night sky, from shell-pink to deepest crimson, from pale green to Nile green, and the same with the rest of the hues.
Then suddenly they assumed the faces of beautiful beings—but their lower bodies were like trails of different colours. These beings mingled with one another, yet retained their individualities. Their dancing movements were like music, the tinkle, the chime of numerous bells echoing and re-echoing through the sweet silence of eternity. My eyes drank in the melody of the vivid, various colours with as much joy as I would have had hearing an ethereal symphony in perfect harmony in the Divine Light.
This was an ecstasy, an indescribable thrill. I was floating upward into a realm of glory beyond anything I had ever beheld or ever known.
This vision of mine reminds me of Sri Aurobindo's poem The Life Heavens:
Sounds, colours, joy-fiamings. Life lies here Dreaming, bound to the heavens of its goal, In the clasp of a Power that enthrals to sheer Bliss and beauty body and rapt soul.
Indeed the Savitri paintings were expressed in multi-colours to accord with the twelve dimensions known to occultism.
In connection with the twelve dimensions, I came across The Illustrated Weekly of India dated 9th March 1981:
Letter to the Editor by Vs.Gawarikar—New Delhi Sir—For a scientist of Prof. Abdul Salam's stature to have imagined eleven dimensions is not a very extraordinary thing. The Mother of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram had told a small group of her student-disciples long ago that there were 12 dimensions and that, although scientists had postulated only 4 dimensions, they would find 12 eventually.
Letter to the Editor by Vs.Gawarikar—New Delhi
Sir—For a scientist of Prof. Abdul Salam's stature to have imagined eleven dimensions is not a very extraordinary thing. The Mother of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram had told a small group of her student-disciples long ago that there were 12 dimensions and that, although scientists had postulated only 4 dimensions, they would find 12 eventually.
The Mother has revealed about the dimensions as follows:
I said that it was a revolution of the basic equilibrium, that is, a total reversal of consciousness comparable with what happens to light when it passes through a prism. Or it is as though you were turning a ball inside out, which cannot be done except in the fourth dimension. One comes out of the ordinary three-dimensional consciousness to enter the higher four dimensional consciousness, and into an infinite number of dimensions. This is the indispensable starting-point. Unless your consciousness changes its dimension, it will remain just what it is with the superficial vision of things, and all the profundities will escape you.
The Mother, Questions and Answers (1950 - 1951): 4 January 1951
The next morning I finished the picture, and showed it to the Mother in the afternoon. She clasped my hands, looked into my eyes for a moment or two and gave me a kiss on my forehead. Her gesture conveyed to me everything.
My memory winged back to the year 1958. On 8th February in the evening the Mother and I had met. She looked at me for a few seconds and plunged into deep meditation. I could not have cared less, did not respond, did not concentrate; my vagrant thoughts rambled on. She was serenely peaceful, unruffled, untouched. Then the Mother opened her eyes and said with great regret:
Just now I saw in my vision beautiful luminous beings from above bringing precious gifts for you. They wished to enter your whole being with these boons. But unhappily, you were completely shut up and denied them. So they went back to where they had come from.
There were no tears in my eyes—only solid, unutterable despair.
The Mother looked at me and smiled—a sad smile. I had failed to collaborate, to receive, to assimilate. I felt sick, very sick, in my heart, mind and body. She leaned from her couch, patted my cheeks and affirmed:
So they came back to me by the Divine's Grace.
This impressive experience reminds me of the following verses from Savitri, Book Three, Canto 4:
"I saw the Omnipotent flaming pioneers Over the heavenly verge which turns towards life Come crowding down the amber stairs of birth; Forerunners of a divine multitude, Out of the paths of the morning star they came Into the little room of mortal life." ||90.28||
According to Sri Aurobindo, the Rainbow signifies
Peace and Deliverance Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III: Sky, Weather, Night and Dawn
Peace and Deliverance
Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - III: Sky, Weather, Night and Dawn
Regarding the Rainbow it is said that the white colour of the rays of the Sun can be classified into seven colours—rainbow colours: seven colours—violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red—that is VIBGYOR.
For green, much importance is given: The green colour comes exactly in the middle. So Nature accepted the middle way and gave prominence to the green colour.
According to the Mother, green signifies 'Life'.
The Savitri-paintings left me day after day in wonder. The Mother took me with her to the world of true art—the world of Beauty from where all the inspiration came—a world of ecstatic joy, unbounded happiness—a world of magnificence.
Sri Aurobindo has written:
The Mother believes in beauty as a part of spiritual and divine living.
On 6th November the Mother met me in the morning in the Meditation Hall upstairs and explained to me the ninth picture:
A glamour from the unreached transcendences Iridescent with the glory of the Unseen, A message from the unknown immortal Light Ablaze upon creation's quivering edge, Dawn built her aura of magnificent hues And buried its seed of grandeur in the hours. ||1.26||
She drew a faint line here and there on a piece of paper, I could hardly make out anything. The Mother wished me to use various colours for the painting. She asked me:
Have you seen the dawn?
I said: "No, Mother, because I work late at night, I cannot get up early to see the dawn. I am sorry." She laughed softly and left me in an ambiguous state.
I was terribly nervous when I reached my apartment. Tears welled up in my eyes and I thought again and again: "Why, O why, did I take up this difficult work?" My anger rose to match the situation. Then at last I dragged myself towards the easel in my studio, I sat on a chair, squeezed out several colours at random on the palette and started blindly giving strokes here and there on a board with one single brush, without thinking, caring or even trying to sketch the Dawn. In the afternoon I went to the Mother. She looked at the picture—a meditative gleam in her eyes—and said:
Oh, it is excellent!
I frowned with perplexity. She laughed and said:
You see, while I was taking my lunch, I was thinking that I did not quite make the girl understand how to paint the Dawn. How is she getting on with it? Meanwhile, I saw Sri Aurobindo in a vision. He informed me that I should not worry about the girl, she is getting on well with the painting. And now I can see what he meant!
At that very moment I was made to understand that not only did the Mother's Consciousness help me in this work but Sri Aurobindo's Consciousness too played its role admirably.
According to Sri Aurobindo,
Dawn always means an opening of some kind—the coming of something that is not yet fully there.
On 7th November 1961—Mahakali Puja—the Mother came downstairs in the Meditation Hall to distribute this remarkable Message by Sri Aurobindo:
In the inconscient dreadful dumb Abyss Are heard the heart-beats of the Infinite. This insensible midnight veils His trance of bliss, A fathomless sealed astonishment of Light. Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Unseen Infinite
In the inconscient dreadful dumb Abyss Are heard the heart-beats of the Infinite. This insensible midnight veils His trance of bliss, A fathomless sealed astonishment of Light.
Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Unseen Infinite
On 8th morning the Mother instructed me about the tenth picture:
On life's thin border awhile the Vision stood And bent over earth's pondering forehead curve. ||1.27||
The Mother saw my picture in the afternoon and liked it. I drew her attention to the arms of the Vision: "Mother, aren't they too long?" She assured me:
Never mind, they are impressive and symbolic.
Then she got up from her high-backed carved chair, came very close to me, looked at my face with her luminous gaze for a few minutes, cupped it in her hands and said firmly:
Now, just now I saw a beautiful, brilliant face of an angel—one day it will come out.
She kissed me on my forehead and bade me au revoir.
In the domain of our souls there are numerous beautiful beings or angels. When the Mother spoke, she always meant the spiritual and occult truths, which are beyond our comprehension.
The Mother gave the direction of picture eleven:
Once more a tread perturbed the vacant Vasts; Infinity's centre, a Face of rapturous calm Parted the eternal lids that open heaven; A Form from far beatitudes seemed to near. ||1.30|| Ambassadress twixt eternity and change, The Omniscient Goddess leaned across the breadths That wrap the fated journeyings of the stars And saw the spaces ready for her feet. ||1.31||
She sketched the figure and said:
Only the head must be prominent—of the rest you must give only an impression.
The Mother saw the picture in the afternoon. Usually she asked me to alter paintings if necessary or she would ask me to do the painting all over again. I respected her will.
Now it was picture twelve.
Earth felt the Imperishable's passage close: The waking ear of Nature heard her steps And wideness turned to her its limitless eye, And, scattered on sealed depths, her luminous smile Kindled to fire the silence of the worlds. ||1.33||
The Mother did the sketch and explained:
Here you must show the jaw and the lips and all the heavenly bodies below the chin. The Sun must be in one corner—bigger than the other planets.
I did the painting which the Mother approved.
Picture number thirteen was explained to me by means of a sketch.
All grew a consecration and a rite. ||1.34|| Air was a vibrant link between earth and heaven; The wide-winged hymn of a great priestly wind Arose and failed upon the altar hills; The high boughs prayed in a revealing sky. ||1.35||
She said:
The flowers and trees must be visible, but in the background there are mountains. Then show the movement of the wind in the sky by giving certain strokes.
I did so. The Mother liked the painting.
On 10th November 1961 the Mother explained picture fourteen to me.
Here where our half-lit ignorance skirts the gulfs On the dumb bosom of the ambiguous earth, Here where one knows not even the step in front And Truth has her throne on the shadowy back of doubt, On this anguished and precarious field of toil Outspread beneath some large indifferent gaze, Impartial witness to our joy and bale, Our prostrate soil bore the awakening ray. ||1.36||
In connection with the words 'the shadowy back of doubt' the Mother told me with gesture:
Paint a sharp downward curve.
She referred me to her own sketch.
As always the Mother saw the painting in the afternoon.
The next morning picture number fifteen was introduced by her:
The excess of beauty natural to God-kind Could not uphold its claim on time-born eyes; Too mystic-real for space-tenancy Her body of glory was expunged from heaven: The rarity and wonder lived no more. ||1.43|| There was the common light of earthly day. ||1.44||
When she saw the painting in the afternoon the Mother remarked:
The Truth has gone from the Earth.
I was alarmed and said:
Oh, no, Mother, She has not gone; if She has withdrawn She will surely come back!
The Mother smiled and assured me:
Ah! Yes, in a form of Savitri!
She interpreted the sixteenth picture.
Affranchised from the respite of fatigue Once more the rumour of the speed of Life Pursued the cycles of her blinded quest. ||1.45|| All sprang to their unvarying daily acts; The thousand peoples of the soil and tree Obeyed the unforeseeing instant's urge, And, leader here with his uncertain mind, Alone who stares at the future's covered face, Man lifted up the burden of his fate. ||1.46||
On seeing the painting, she said:
In this painting, there is a purpose behind. One likes to see it over and over again. Man is an ignorant being and yet he is an exception in Nature.
On 17th November in the morning the Mother made me understand the seventeenth picture:
And Savitri too awoke among these tribes That hastened to join the brilliant Summoner's chant.... . ||2.1|| A narrow movement on Time's deep abysm, Life's fragile littleness denied the power, The proud and conscious wideness and the bliss She had brought with her into the human form, The calm delight that weds one soul to all, The key to the flaming doors of ecstasy. ||2.7||
The Mother did the sketch and explained the colour-scheme:
Child, when you do the painting of Savitri's portrait, you must see that throughout you have to paint her face the same with, of course, various expressions. It will certainly look odd if you paint Savitri with different features.
I asked her about Savitri's complexion. The Mother said:
Why, fair Indian complexion—ivory—sunny ivory complexion.
I asked her: "What is sunny ivory?"
She leaned a little forward from her high-backed carved chair, touching my arms and said with a sweet smile:
Like your complexion.
Yes, indeed, previously I had a fair complexion but gradually the awful weather, my ill-health, psychological struggles, perpetual attacks of invisible entities, setbacks and hideous difficulties spoiled considerably my skin and long silky dark brown hair. However, the essential thing in life, I believe, is the charm and beauty of the soul.
The painting of Savitri was done, which the Mother admired.
The following morning she gave an insight into the eighteenth picture:
Earth's grain that needs the sap of pleasure and tears Rejected the undying rapture's boon: Offered to the daughter of infinity Her passion flower of love and doom she gave. ||2.8||
Here I perceived that Savitri brought the gift of Divine Grace and Divine Love but the Earth rejected it and on her part gave Savitri the opposite.
On 19th November the Mother made me understand the nineteenth picture of Book One, Canto 1:
Mortality bears ill the eternal's touch.... ||2.11|| Inflicting on the heights the abysm's law, It sullies with its mire heaven's messengers: Its thorns of fallen nature are the defence It turns against the saviour hands of Grace; It meets the sons of God with death and pain. ||2.12||
She asked me to show in the painting, blood oozing from Savitri's hands and right foot.
I did the painting.
When the Mother saw it, in the afternoon, she commented:
The expression of Savitri is very good indeed.
The next morning the twentieth picture was explained by the Mother.
Thus trapped in the gin of earthly destinies, Awaiting her ordeal's hour abode, Outcast from her inborn felicity, Accepting life's obscure terrestrial robe, Hiding herself even from those she loved, The godhead greater by a human fate. ||2.17||
As usual the Mother saw the painting in the afternoon and was satisfied with my progress.
The next picture—number twenty one—was suggested by the Mother:
Against the evil at life's afflicted roots, Her own calamity its private sign, Of her pangs she made a mystic poignant sword ||2.25||
In the afternoon I went to the Mother with the painting which she liked and approved.
On 24th November—the Darshan Day—the Mother distributed to people the following message of Sri Aurobindo, which was uplifting and encouraging.
24 November 1961
It is by a constant inner growth that one can find constant newness and unfailing interest in life. There is no other satisfying way.
The Mother showed me how to do the twenty second picture:
At the summons of her body's voiceless call Her strong far-winging spirit travelled back, Back to the yoke of ignorance and fate, Back to the labour and stress of mortal days, Lighting a pathway through strange symbol dreams Across the ebbing of the seas of sleep. ||2.33||
In the afternoon she saw the painting and admired the detail of each scene which Savitri saw in her mind's eye.
On the morning of the 25th, when I went to the Mother, she received me cordially and with a smile she lifted from a nearby stool a Russian art-piece—an Icon—the Virgin of Vladimir and the Child. She informed me:
You see, my child, how beautifully an artist has painted these images. This precious piece travelled all the way from Russia to the Ashram. Originally it belonged to the Czar's treasures. They were scattered during the revolution in Russia.
I found it exceedingly lovely—full of feeling and vibrations.
Much later, in the 1980s, I asked Champaklal to show me the Icon to revive my memory. He informed me that it was in the Art Gallery. Then I got it from Krishnalal and Vasudev and kept it in my apartment for some time in order to clean it and concentrate on it. I put it in my meditation room one day and switched off the light and burned a candle. To my utter amazement I saw the Icon as living—and felt as if the Virgin would speak to me. The effect of the light on the Icon was fascinating. Later, I took it to Champaklal. He saw it, and was pleased with the cleaning. Then I returned it to the Art Gallery along with the text which I had got from Mme Luce Huguette Raymond alias"Padma", the name given by the Mother.
Padma had received the Icon from her friend Christiane Roll-Mackie—the Mother had named her "Sahadja". She had a friend called Georges who got this Icon from a Ukrainian friend of his, who in his turn had received it from the Patriarch of Moscow. This Icon came into Sahadja's hands in 1959 and she gave it to Padma in 1961. Padma offered it to the Mother on 25.11.1961. On that day the Mother also gave me an interview. Now this most wonderful Icon is in Shri Smriti where all the Mother's belongings are preserved and exhibited.
The size of the Icon is 22.5 cm x 18.5 cm. The thickness is 2.2 cm. There is a metal sheet with intricate golden and silver designs on it, enchanting flowers, leaves and symmetrical forms. It is the top of a case in which the painted Icon is placed. Through six holes in the sheet one can see the painted figures of the Virgin and Child. Their dresses are shown on the gilded sheet. Their haloes too are represented and, like the dresses, they are part of the complex designs. One can see not only the faces but also the two hands of the Virgin and a hand and the two feet of the Child. The expression of the Virgin is perfect love, compassion and care. The Child in her arms is content, care-free, self-giving. His left cheek touches his mother's right cheek. Amazingly the features of the Virgin resemble our Divine Mother's in her young age. In transit the sheet has got slightly pressed down instead of being fully raised. At its bottom there is in the middle a short inscription in Russian. Its sides are nailed to the sides of the material which is covered with a velvet cloth of a purplish rose-colour.
On 26 November 1961 the Mother gave the description of the last picture of Canto 1, number twenty three:
Immobile in herself, she gathered force. ||2.41|| This was the day when Satyavan must die. ||2.42||
The Mother went into a profound trance. When she opened her eyes, she informed me enthusiastically:
I want to get printed these paintings of Book One, Canto I along with the relevant passages from Savitri.
We name the Book:
I typed the matter of Book One, Canto 1. I stuck typed copies behind painted boards—the others went into my files and the rest were used for the Dummies. The Mother was pleased to see the Dummy of Book One, Canto 1, which I prepared as she wished. The paintings of Book One, Canto 1 went to Madras for block-making. The printing was done in Sri Aurobindo Ashram Press according to the Mother's instructions.
The Mother made me read her introduction which would go in the first Volume of Meditations on Savitri.
Savitri, this prophetic vision of the world's history, including the announcement of the world's future—who can ever dare to put it in pictures?
Yet the Mother and Huta have tried it, this way.
We simply meditate together on the lines chosen, and when the image becomes clear, I describe it with the help of a few strokes, then Huta goes to her studio and brushes the painting.
It is in a meditative mood that these 'meditations ' must be looked at, to find the feeling they contain behind their appearance.
Tears of happiness and gratitude surged in my eyes. I said to myself: "Do I really deserve all this?"
The month of December 1961 commenced.
As always there were meditations on 5th and 9th in Sri Aurobindo's room and around the Samadhi.
On 12th the Mother called me in the Meditation Hall upstairs in order to explain the first painting of Canto 2 of Book One of Savitri.
An absolute supernatural darkness falls On man sometimes when he draws near to God: An hour comes when fail all Nature's means; Forced out from the protecting Ignorance And flung back on his naked primal need, He at length must cast from him his surface soul And be the ungarbed entity within: That hour had fallen now on Savitri. ||3.6||
The painting was done in the morning and shown to the Mother in the afternoon. The following morning the Mother interpreted the second picture of Canto 2.
Around her were the austere sky-pointing hills, And the green murmurous broad deep-thoughted woods Muttered incessantly their muffled spell. ||3.20|| A dense magnificent coloured self-wrapped life Draped in the leaves 'vivid emerald monotone And set with chequered sunbeams and blithe flowers Immured her destiny's secluded scene. ||3.21|| There had she grown to the stature of her spirit. ||3.22||
The Mother sketched Savitri's face and said:
You must show her face as if she is looking intently towards the peaks of mountains.
I did according to her instruction. She liked the result.
On 14th December 1961 her explanation of picture three was very interesting. The Mother asked me:
Child, show a squirrel trying to climb on Savitri's lap and attempting to eat flower petals. That will look very nice.
The verses run:
And the mighty wideness of the primitive earth And the brooding multitude of patient trees And the musing sapphire leisure of the sky And the solemn weight of the slowly passing months Had left in her deep room for thought and God. ||3.24|| There was her drama's radiant prologue lived. ||3.25||
The next day I received from the Mother a card depicting a girl fondling a rabbit—that was the model. Since the detail was to be shown, it took a few days to paint the scene. The Mother liked the painting very much.
Pictures four and five followed:
Here with the suddenness divine advents have, Repeating the marvel of the first descent, Changing to rapture the dull earthly round, Love came to her hiding the shadow, Death. ||3.27|| Well might he find in her his perfect shrine. ||3.28||
All in her pointed to a nobler kind. ||3.30|| Near to earth's wideness, intimate with heaven, Exalted and swill her young large-visioned spirit Voyaging through worlds of splendour and of calm Overflew the ways of Thought to unborn things. ||3.31|| Ardent was her self-poised unstumbling will; Her mind, a sea of white sincerity, Passionate inflow, had not one turbid wave. ||3.32||
As always the Mother instructed me by means of her drawings, which I copied on canvas boards and sent to her for her approval. Afterwards I did paintings according to the colour-scheme she indicated. Sometimes she used to alter a painting with pencil and ask me to fill in the colours.
After explaining to me the two pictures she went into a trance. Then she said:
It starts with Love and it ends with Love, but in between there is a terrible mess. After all this, one thing lasts and that is Love...
On 24th I saw the Mother in the Meditation Hall upstairs. She greeted me with three exquisite white roses and a sweet smile.
She read the passage which I typed:
As in a mystic and dynamic dance A priestess of immaculate ecstasies Inspired and ruled from Truth's revealing vault Moves in some prophet cavern of the gods, A heart of silence in the hands of joy Inhabited with rich creative beats A body like a parable of dawn That seemed a niche for veiled divinity Or golden temple door to things beyond. ||3.33||
Instead of explaining to me through her sketch, the Mother gave me a pose—right foot slightly lifted—right hand came down—left hand went up—in order to show me how the priestess should dance.
This reminds me that in one of her births she was a Priestess in Egypt.
On 25th December 1961 the Mother went to see the Christmas tree and the special Ark and the beautiful flowers in the Theatre garden. There was gaiety and fervour in the atmosphere. This was the last time the Mother went to the Theatre to distribute gifts to all. Here is her photograph taken on this occasion.
Days fell into a more serene pattern. When my ego was offended, it responded to the adverse suggestions which wrecked my nerves. One wrong movement and I was in for it. The Mother was trying increasingly to break me of the habit of listening to the hostile forces. Despite the hindrances, I had to go through the ordeals no matter how hard they might be. My soul reminded me all the time of my supreme Goal—the Divine.
Now came the last day of the Year 1961. The Mother gave me three diaries with her love and blessings. They were very useful to write my journal.
The New Year 1962 began. The Mother gave the following message to all:
1962
We thirst for perfection.
Not this human perfection which is a perfection of the ego and bars the way to the divine perfection.
But that one perfection which has the power to manifest upon earth the Eternal Truth.
Our Savitri work went on steadily. We had already started Canto 2 of Book One.
In the morning the Mother made me understand each painting. I would go home and do the picture in order to show it to her in the afternoon. Thus I was doing one painting a day. The Mother called me twice a day. Along with the paintings the Mother made me understand their significance and the truth behind them. There were always Sri Aurobindo's and Mother's Force and Presence to see me through.
I may clarify that the Mother never wanted anybody to be present during our Savitri work. I was surprised to read in Mother India—Monthly Review of Culture—June 1993—page 400—Nirodbaran's talk on Champaklal. He has stated about Champaklal:
He used to be present during the Mother's work with Huta.
This is a mistake. Champaklal was never present when the Mother and I worked together on Savitri. She never wished or allowed any third person to be present while explaining to me by means of her sketches the Savitri paintings and their colour schemes. Also, when I was recording the Mother's recitations of chosen Savitri passages from the First University Edition 1954, and her comments on verses, the Mother preferred that I should be alone with her. When we were working together on Savitri the doors were closed and the Mother gave strict orders to Vasudha (her personal attendant) not to allow anybody in the room and disturb the Savitri work. So there was no question of either Champaklal or anybody else being present during our Savitri work.
Regarding one of my paintings the Mother gave this meaning to it. This was not a Savitri painting.
Thought from the moon
I gave the print to the Mother. Next day I wrote a letter asking whether she valued the picture. She answered:
22.2.62
You are mistaken when you think that I did not value the picture you gave me with your love—on the contrary it touched me—it is the kind of thing I value much more than beautiful presents made with a cold or interested thought.
The Mother made me understand the eighth picture of Savitri, Book One, Canto 2, according to the following verses:
Almost they saw who lived within her light Her playmate in the sempiternal spheres Descended from its unattainable realms In her attracting advent's luminous wake, The white fire dragon bird of endless bliss Drifting with burning wings above her days. Heaven's tranquil shield guarded the missioned child. ||4.5||
You must paint the white fire dragon bird.
I was confused and thought what on earth the "bird" could have looked like. Then, of course, she led me into Sri Aurobindo's room and showed me only for a moment the white bird which was painted on a wall. Now the whole set up in Sri Aurobindo's room has changed. The Mother asked me whether I had got the idea. I replied:
Then I painted the bird on 25th January 1962, thanks to my good memory. Otherwise it was not easy to grasp the whole thing in a moment, but, I felt that the Mother's Force was there to give me a clear vision. The Mother praised immensely the painting of the white-fire dragon bird.
Days rolled on and I was absorbed more and more in the fascinating work of Savitri. The Mother and I began Canto 3 of Book One.
For picture two she said:
Child, there are actually twelve bodies in human beings.
You see, I go out of these bodies one after another successively, consciously, and enter into the subtle worlds. I can stop on any plane, do what I have to do over there. I move around freely, and observe the secret of the realms.
In each plane there are beings.
I saw the beauties of the higher and luminous worlds, as well as the horrible, dark and ugly worlds where numerous beings were submerged in the subconscient. I saved them. But it was a most difficult and dangerous task.
I am aware of all the details of my subtle bodies. Then finally I return and enter gradually in my physical body—in the world of Matter.
Moving on, I had to show Aswapathy receiving the Light from above: that is to say, from the blue stars and the blue square. I did the painting—I painted two straight white lines of the Light on Aswapathy's palms, coming from above. I showed the painting to the Mother. And how she laughed! She said:
You have painted Aswapathy as if he was balancing two sticks on his palms. Do you think he is giving a performance in a circus?
We both, then, laughed heartily. Then of course, I did the same painting again, this time very carefully, and the Mother liked it. But still she was not quite satisfied with the blue colour of the star and the square.
For picture five, she said:
Yes, you see, this cobra is very cunning, he will never let anybody cross the threshold until and unless one is absolutely pure.
For picture ten, the Mother said:
You must show the centres of Consciousness with golden dots, in painting—one in the heart, one in the throat, the forehead and above the head....
I did not know where exactly I had to put the dots in the figure of Aswapathy. The Mother did not explain to me in detail. Once again she had left me to my own devices. So I took refuge in Sri Aurobindo's books and found out exactly all about the centres, colours, their meaning, function and so on.
Many a time the Mother wanted me to find out certain things by myself. And that helped me a lot to develop my consciousness.
For picture sixteen, the Mother did the sketch as she always used to do. I thought she did two heads on her sketch. So, I painted two heads and she said:
Why, but they are absolutely symbolic.
Now we took up Canto 4 of Book One of Savitri. For picture two, she said:
I saw Aswapathy in my vision with bright red dhoti, over and over again. So, you must paint a red dhoti,
For picture three, she said:
It is nice and pretty, but for the sake of the reproduction (Block-making) it might be better to have a little more colour to cover the rough surface of the board.
I did according to her wish.
Our work advanced regularly until the Mother was taken seriously ill in May 1962. Naturally we had to stop our Savitri work at the sixth painting. The last picture she explained to me was the toiling of the Earth:
Along a path of aeons serpentine In the coiled blackness of her nescient course The Earth Goddess toils across the sands of Time. ||11.8||
This expressed the Mother's own struggle, I felt.
The Mother said to Vasudha—her personal attendant:
Huta cannot possibly do the Savitri paintings without my direct help; meanwhile she should do something else.
And what should I do? Her illness was the greatest shock to me. During these months I sorted out thousands of the Mother's letters to me, arranged them and typed them in order to have them published. Later, I expressed my feeling to her that we might name the book White Roses. The Mother said:
Yes, indeed, it is a very pretty name.
And it was kept. As a matter of fact, she always used to send white roses along with each letter she wrote to me.
The first edition of White Roses was published on 24th March 1963, and the Enlarged Edition of it, on 15th August 1964.
The Mother asked me to paint white roses she sent to me for the Enlarged Edition. I was simply thrilled by her Introduction:
O ye souls yearning for calm and quietness, let these "White Roses" drop upon your heart their petals of peaceful fragrance.
The Mother said:
You see, I feel as if Sri Aurobindo was writing the Introduction—it is His Introduction.
The Mother did not teach me only painting but also the hidden truths of spiritual life. The book White Roses, for which I got the National Award in 1981 and the Tata Press, where the book had been printed, won the first prize, is only for the general reader, because it touches on subjects of universal interest.
Apart from these letters the Mother wrote many more personal ones as well as some in connection with the Savitri paintings which unfolded unknown things. Eventually all of them will appear in The Story of a Soul and other new books.
At the same time the first volume of Meditations on Savitri was getting ready.
In August 1962, when I offered the first volume of Meditations on Savitri to the Mother, she said:
Child, didn't I tell you before that everything would be all right?
I have planned everything from the beginning to the end in the painting. Every year we shall publish a new book of the series.
A certain number of cantos can be published in each volume, and the painting of the jacket must be changed each time—it should be different in every new volume.
I just listened—I could not reply anything because tears of happiness rolled down from my eyes. I heaved a sigh of relief that now I was surely on the right track and the Mother's labour was not wasted after all...
Then I went into Sri Aurobindo's room and placed the book Meditations on Savitri beside his couch. There also, I could not resist my tears. I felt his presence and my joy knew no bounds.
I did a few paintings for the sake of studies. The Mother liked them all and gave a meaning to each of them.
Here, I remember about the painting of an eye: I just painted it because some colours were left on a palette, and they cried out to be used.
I kept the painting aside and forgot all about it. Meanwhile, an artist happened to see it and insisted on my showing it to the Mother. But I was still hesitating because I did not paint it seriously. Then at last, I showed it to the Mother. She looked at it for quite a long time. She seemed much impressed and said:
Oh, you have painted my vision, it is excellent!
I was completely amazed because I did not really know that it was her vision I painted. But how did it ever happen? I dare say, her Force was definitely working...
The Mother at once gave the meaning and told me that she was going to get it blocked and printed and would use it as a New Year card. And she did. The meaning was:
The physical world becoming aware of the Divine's Presence.
When the Mother used to see the coloured proofs, she was not always satisfied with them. She wrote:
The painting is better brighter but if this is all they can do... it will do! Otherwise, the setting is good
Again I happened to send the proofs, and she wrote:
As usual the colours of the prints are not so good—but it can be improved I suppose.
The Mother was very particular about the coloured proofs and printings. Oh, how we wished we only had a colour block-making machine!
Still we had not resumed our Savitri work. But I was studying Savitri all right. In answer to my letter, the Mother wrote:
As yet, I cannot take up any regular occupation and it is not possible to resume our Savitri activities.
But I want to see the painting you have made for the cover of the second series. Come on the Sunday 23rd of this month at 10 o'clock in the morning and you will show it to me or if it is not ready, you can show a sketch.
In answer to my letter the Mother wrote:
It is not that I have lost interest in our work of Savitri, far from that and surely we will take it up again, but as yet I do not know when. As soon as it is possible I shall let you know. Before that I will call you when the book is ready, most likely in August.
Always with you with love
Meanwhile, I painted a face. The Mother saw the picture which she liked very much and remarked:
O, this is excellent! This is the correct vision. This will surely go as the cover-picture of "Meditations on Savitri" Volume Two.
In October 1962 when the Mother and I resumed our Savitri work on the second floor in her music-cum-interview room, she asked me to sit on a beautiful bottle-green velvet cushion. I refused and sat on a carpet near her feet.
The Mother gave me a separate wall-cupboard near her high-backed chair to keep stationery, a volume of Savitri and many other necessary things in connection with our Savitri work.
The Mother made me understand the Savitri paintings through her numerous sketches. She also explained to me all about various colours.
I sketched the pictures on boards and sent them to her for her approval. Then finally I did the paintings.
The Mother told me several times:
Child, you are not doing the painting. I am only using your hands. Substantially the whole creation is mine.
During our Savitri work, the Mother often warned me against people and asked me not to mix with them, not to be social. She advised me:
Child, I am not social, and I don't want you to be social.
I said:
But Mother, if I ignore people—even my own people—would not they feel hurt or offended?
The Mother simply cut me short:
Have you come for me or for them?
From that day onwards I tried my best to obey her. Many people including my own misunderstood me, but I could not help it.
Time flew on rapid wings. Our work progressed considerably well.
The Mother took my consciousness to other spheres and let me see many extraordinary things in detail. She also made me feel their vibrations and meet numerous strange beings of different types. Without her direct instructions, guidance and constant help nothing could have been achieved.
While teaching me occultism during our Savitri work, the Mother disclosed to me the mysteries of the higher luminous worlds, as well as the horrible nether worlds. In fact she took my consciousness to those worlds in order to give me experiences and make me understand the hidden truth of things, so that I could express them through Savitri paintings.
Interested people thought that the paintings of Savitri were mere pictures—some even mocked and criticised. Some passed random and gauche remarks out of sheer jealousy and disdain. They believed the paintings to be my personal possessions and affairs, because I had done them. But really speaking, the paintings of the whole of Savitri and other paintings are the Mother's own creation, based not only on her series of visions but also on her own guiding sketches: they are a reflection of her own Yoga.
When I sent certain sketches on boards, she wrote:
I am sending you back the boards and along with them, my two sketches retouched with full explanation at the back Because, obviously I had not made myself understood. I am sure that now it will be all right and with these explanations you need not send me the drawings and can straight off start the painting.
Her explanations were as follows:
For picture seven of Canto 4 of Book One, the Mother wrote:
Proportion of the earth to the total picture to be kept exact; the earth is a globe and must appear round like a ball, not flat.
The colour is blue—darker below, paler at the top where it receives the Light from above.
It must look like made of a translucid substance (as blue glass for instance) and through the transparent substance, at the centre of the globe—not at all at its surface—one can see two eyes and a mouth only, nothing more, nothing else.
For picture eight, she wrote:
Same explanations as in the first one. Note that here the place of the earth in the whole picture is not the same as in the first one. It is further up towards the Light.
Here there is only one eye and half of the mouth to express that the Consciousness is turned towards the Light. And it is still inside the globe not at its surface.
For picture nine, the Mother told me,
The crossed hands mean Creation.
For picture twelve, she wrote on 21st January 1963, when I sent sketches.
It is good, you can proceed with the paintings.
In the last picture, I have taken away the stripe as it is not probable that the Supramental Being will use these very human devices.
Except for this small detail, all is excellent.
For picture thirteen, she wrote:
I have removed the trident and the snake as they are not needed. We want a more Universal Deity.
See that the end of the way is lost, invisible in the pinkish white Light emanated by the Sun of Bliss.
When I sent her the sketches as usual, she wrote:
In the second and the third pictures, the head of the Transcendent and of God must be exclusively of gold Light, only gold Light, no other colour, and the features scarcely visible.
For these, what could evoke a human appearance must be avoided carefully, it would look ridiculous i f a human face was given to God.
In the second picture the mask on the Transcendent 's face is uniformly pale grey and in the holes for the eyes there is only white Light.
The face is covered with mask slightly greyish, only eyes are seen of bright gold.
For picture fifteen, I sent the sketch to her, along with a note saying,
Mother, in my last sketch, I have become a little overwise because I have drawn a library, which was not in your sketch, near the wise man's couch. I do not really know whether I am supposed to paint that part.
The Mother answered,
The library is quite good and must remain, it is a very good idea. The corner of the wise men is excellent, and must be kept as it is. I am sending back the drawings for painting.
The Mother was very much amused with the painting of the wise men. On her sketch itself she wrote:
One wise man, lifting a preaching hand, another wise man on a couch half asleep.
For picture nineteen, she wrote, when I sent her the sketches,
The sketches are quite all right. When you paint the eyes, see that the eyes of the Lord are as big as those of Nature, but without details, otherwise everything is good
Many a time I forgot the whole world—even my existence—when I was painting at night, with everything hushed around me.
In the morning also my time was occupied by various activities.
Still the Mother and I had to go a long way in the paintings. We had wished to finish the whole of Savitri. And of course, we were going fast in the work, which was not child's play or a joke. The whole thing was based purely on occult and subtle things.
Whenever I was doing painting, I used to see the same thing in my dreams and visions. Also, when I finished the paintings late at night, I found them living. Here I remember that once I was painting a python (Picture 48 of Book One, Canto 4). When I finished it, I felt that it might jump on me. So without cleaning the brushes and palette, I left the painting on the easel, shut the door of my studio and soon jumped into my bed. I was so scared!
What I saw and felt during my painting was not always very comfortable and pleasant!
For the last painting, number forty nine, the Mother there and then gave the meaning: "Godhead."
The painting for the jacket of Volume III of Meditations on Savitri I could not finish, and the Mother asked me to keep it as it was.
When the Mother and I were doing the paintings of Book One, Canto 4, there were two or three paintings which looked like modern art. She said jokingly to Mona L. Pinto:
You see, now Huta and I are doing modern painting!
The Mother saw me on my spiritual birthday, 1st November 1962. She greeted me with a card and a beautiful bouquet.
I offered her a volume of Savitri—First University Edition—1954 along with a card. The Mother wrote on the book and returned it to me:
A mon cher petit collaborateur avec toute ma tendresse
(To my dear little collaborator with all my love)
To Huta, on her 7th birthday
1.11.62
That very day the Mother sent me an encouraging letter:
Mon cher petit,
I am quite happy with your progress and now I want you only to become a little stronger so that exterior events have no more possibility to upset you.
We have a big work to do together and will do it.
With all my love
The Mother sent me an impressive quotation on 10th December 1962:
If you really accept and give yourself to me, you must accept my truth. My truth is one that rejects ignorance and falsehood and moves to the knowledge, rejects darkness and moves to the light, rejects egoism and moves to the Divine Self rejects imperfections and moves to perfection. My truth is not only the truth of Bhakti or of psychic development but also of knowledge, purity, divine strength and calm and of the raising of all these things from their mental, emotional and vital forms to their supramental reality.
I expressed my feeling to the Mother about her recitations ofSavitri passages and a tape-recorder. She answered me:
16.3.63
Dear little child of mine,
You can be sure that f the recorder comes to me it will be used for Savitri only and left in your charge.
All love
Once again the Mother wrote to me about the recorder:
25.3.63
The recorder is here waiting for you on the 29th.
I have received your letters—the strength and the peace are with you, to help through the difficult days.
I was very happy.
We came to the last canto of Book One of Savitri, Canto 5. We did twenty paintings plus the painting of the jacket, which I did just for a study and the Mother found very interesting and chose for the cover.
I shall just try to give glimpses of what the Mother said about the paintings of Book One, Canto 5.
For picture one, actually I did two paintings of the same object—Wings because I was not satisfied with the first one. The Mother saw both of them and said:
I like both. The new one is full of vital power and force and the old one has a mental meaning. However, we shall have them both blocked and we must find out from the result which one is better, then we shall get it printed accordingly.
For picture two, the Mother said:
The painting is fullofoccultvisions. There are depicted here innumerable holes in several rows and each hole holds a roll of mysterious script; whenever I wish to solve the problems of the Universe, I just go to the actual place and pull certain rolls out and get the answers.
Picture three—here is the Mother's sketch of the roll.
When I asked the Mother what she had written on the roll, she never replied. What a pity!
For picture four, she wrote:
No human detail in the body of the golden child.
For picture six it was really very difficult.
I did several paintings of the different Realms—there were 13 realms of consciousness along with the earth. The Mother was not satisfied with the painting.
She then wrote on 17th May 1963,
What we are doing is only symbolic and must be very simple. The sample painting you had sent was good that way. Only some colours were not quite accurate! The Mind—(first blue) is too dark—it must be like the bright blue we adopted for the earth, otherwise it is all right.
Also, I sent the picture of a silver river from a book and asked her whether that was the colour of the silver Realm—number ten. She wrote:
No—these colours are truly light and can be compared to nothing physical.
I wrote to her that to mix various colours and to get the right effect was rather difficult. She answered:
This is why it is difficult but to help, I have pinned some bits of cloths that shine and looked at on their shining side, they can help you to find the right colour.
On her sketch itself the Mother pinned the bits of various colours of shining cloths, so that I might understand. But the Mother said:
How can I explain the colours which I see in my vision and which were not upon this earth?
Again I sent the rough painting of the Realms and she wrote on 20th May 1963:
It is much better.
Of course, not perfect. But can anything upon earth now be perfect? You can do the final picture like that, only try that the third (lightest) gold is less 'grey', when you concentrate on the painting, you can clearly feel something, this is very good.
Then I did the final painting of the different Realms. The Mother liked the painting but I cannot say she was completely satisfied.
For picture eight,
... His hope a star above a cradle and grave. ||19.18||
when I took the painting of a cradle and a grave to the Mother and she saw it, then very suddenly the tears welled into my eyes... I sobbed... because I was sorry—really sorry for the life of human beings: from cradles to graves, and from graves to cradles—where would be the end? I then said to the Mother that I was not sorry or weeping over my own unhappiness.
The Mother replied:
I know, my child.
Picture nine was quite difficult also. I sent the rough sketch. The Mother wrote:
See my sketch. The floor short, the stained window lower the vault must be high.
I asked in what colour the arches should be painted. She wrote:
Stone colour, some bluish, mauvish grey darker in shadow
For the cathedral, I am sending you a book where you will find a picture that may help.
Again she wrote:
Here are some pictures, which will be most useful to give you the right idea about the cathedral.
Height, colour, windows—all are there—the impression of infinity of the height must be given.
With the picture, you will surely understand
And I got the idea all right. But I never copied either cathedral or anything while I was painting. I always followed the inspiration. The Mother said:
This is how paintings must be done. This is the right thing. You can do without copying.
As a matter of fact, I did the paintings of Book One, Canto 5 in 1963; but later, that is to say in 1964, when the paintings were ready to go for block-making, I asked the Mother whether I should retouch them. And she graciously permitted me—not only did she allow but she saw all the paintings and herself told me what was to be done.
She asked me to re-paint five paintings on new boards. The painting of the Realms was among them also.
First I sent the sketches for her approval. She wrote:
The sketches are all right—and the vision will come in due time. Do not fear about the fourth one (The Realms)—it is only symbolic.
Then I painted them all.
Picture ten, the portrait of Aswapathy, I painted twice. For the old one, the Mother said:
You have painted his beard as if it was false and stuck... better paint it again—another portrait of Aswapathy.
And I did so.
For picture seventeen I had to draw the "Yantra"—symbol of the Divine Shakti (Power). The Mother said jokingly:
Now look, we must paint the "Yantra" correctly; otherwise, wise people will surely find out our mistakes...
I said to her that I would surely copy it nicely from one of the cards of Shakti, sent by the Mother, so that there would not be any chance for committing a mistake. And the painting was done.
For picture nineteen, I did not quite understand what she had said about the painting of a soul and how it could be done. So, I wrote to her asking what she had meant by
ladder not to be seen through the soul...
And she replied:
I meant that the soul must not be transparent and the ladder must not be seen through the soul.
There! A question of commonsense only! But sometimes one loses it, when many things pile up in one's head! However, the last painting of Canto 5, the Mother admired also. Thus I had finished the paintings of Book One, Canto 5.
In 1963, another book of Meditations on Savitri, Volume II, was published. And happily, this time, the Mother approved some of her sketches to be published in the book.
Her message for the second part was:
Here is again a humble attempt to make you see some of the realities which are still invisible for the physical eyes.
When I offered to the Mother in August 1963 the second Volume of Meditations on Savitri, she looked at the book and said:
Child, occultists will surely profit by this book.
This time also I went into Sri Aurobindo's room and placed the book beside his couch. I felt his presence. I was very happy.
The Mother disclosed regarding Sri Aurobindo's room:
Q. Somebody wants to visit Sri Aurobindo's room again and sit there to meditate for some time.
What are his qualifications and titles to such a great privilege?
Visiting again is all right. People can come to Sri Aurobindo's room. But to be allowed to sit and meditate there, one must have done much for Sri Aurobindo.
Q. Sweet Mother, you have said that to be allowed to sit in Sri Aurobindo's room and meditate there, "one must have done much for Him". What do you mean by that, Mother? What can one do for the Lord which will be this "much"?
To do something for the Lord is to give Him something of what one has or of what one does or of what one is. In other words, to offer Him a part of our belongings or all our possessions, to consecrate to Him a part of our work or all our activities, or to give ourselves to Him totally and unreservedly so that He can take possession of our nature in order to transform and divinise it. But there are many persons who, without giving anything, always want to take and to receive. These people are selfish and they are not worthy of meditating in Sri Aurobindo's room.
On 1st September 1963 I showed some Gujarati manuscripts to the Mother. They consisted of my prayers to the Divine before I met the Mother.
She turned a few pages, looked at the matter with a magnifying glass, concentrated for a moment or two. Then at once she wrote this message:
This is how all sincere aspirations are fulfilled. With blessings
On 1st November 1963 I offered to the Mother the book Charanvandana, which I wrote in Gujarati. Later I translated it into English and published it under the title of Salutations.
Day and night I think again and again of Savitri—the Mother who is my everything.
If I write the description of the work which the Mother and I have done in paintings, I do not suppose it can ever be expressed fully in writing. However, I am trying to put on paper a few things which I cannot resist.
While explaining picture six, Book Two, Canto 3, the Mother told me about The Life Angel who has pearly wings. She said:
In the beginning of the 20th century, two Angels were always with me on either side; they were protecting me constantly. They were very nice and beautiful creatures indeed!
For picture three, Book Two, Canto 5, the Mother wrote:
I looked at the other pictures and found nothing special to be noted. But I feel sure you will make something out of it—so I tell you 'go ahead'.
Let yourself go to the fancy of the inspiration. It goes without saying that I will be with you.
And there we are! I did the painting of the Atom, which she liked. Sometimes, she made me use my inspiration. By her Grace, then eventually everything became all right.
For picture two of Book Two, Canto 7 of Savitri the Mother saw the vision of the Lord. She drew a sketch and underneath she wrote:
Falsehood is the sorrow of the Lord.
The Mother explained to me fully how to paint the picture. I did the painting of the Lord's Face. I copied her handwriting underneath the painting according to her wish, and sent it to her. She wrote on 12th January 1963:
You can keep it as it is. It is powerful.
Our Savitri work was going on—only the difference was, I used to go to the Mother three times a month or sometimes four times; all depended on her work, for she was attending to numerous things.
Here I must explain why Book Two, Canto 8, The World of Falsehood, the Mother of Evil and the Sons of Darkness was rejected by the Divine Mother. The Divine Mother said:
I have already fought with the Mother of Evil, and now I do not wish at all to give forms to the Falsehood in painting and then put the pictures in front of humanity, so that they can easily get into the false consciousness. No, I am not going to give them forms. Drop the Canto 8 altogether.
And with great pleasure, we skipped Canto 8 of Book Two, and started doing the paintings of Canto 9, Book Two.
For picture two of Canto 14 the Mother saw the vision of a glowing mouth. She explained to me about the interior of the mouth through her coloured sketch. She sometimes made coloured sketches with crayons.
I thought that the mouth meant a real mouth, so I did the sketch of a wide open mouth with teeth and tongue, etc. Along with other sketches, I sent this sketch to the Mother for her approval. Unhappily, the Mother did not approve the sketch of the mouth. She wrote:
It is better to drop the fourth one as it is not at all what I meant and would not look nice. This is not at all what I meant, just the opposite—better drop it altogether.
Well! How was it possible for me to drop one of her visions? So I copied exactly according to her sketch and made the painting. And lo! she liked it.
When we were doing Book Three, The Book of the Divine Mother, in one of the paintings we had to show the Divine Mother in Aswapathy's heart. Here I cannot possibly forget the Mother's sense of humour, for I love it. She said:
Now look! If we show the Supreme Mother's face in his heart, then surely people will think that Aswapathy had fallen in love with a woman. So I think it is better we show the golden and white Light enveloping Aswapathy.
I could not check my laughter. She joined me too.
It was an immense joy to work with the Mother. I marvelled at her practicality, refinement, aesthetic sense—mere words cannot do justice to her aristocracy, nobility and greatness. I relished her sparkling sense of humour time and again.
Unhappily, we could not publish Volume III of the Meditations on Savitri in August 1964, due to certain circumstances. After that it was decided by the Mother that instead of in August, the books should be published every year in February. So Volume III was published on 21St February 1965. She wrote this introduction:
If you want to enjoy these meditations", you must put aside all conventional notions about art and painting.
Concentrate silently your vision behind the apparent form of the picture and you will reach the meaning.
Huta is the painter.
When I happened to read the introduction, I requested the Mother to erase my name, because it was not going to add any glory.
Then the Mother withdrew the whole introduction and said that it was not necessary. But how was it possible to publish the book without her introduction? So I asked for the introduction as a present on my birthday, and it was happily granted. But then also, she never erased my name. So I knew that it was not at all sensible to interfere in her work.
During that time, I did several paintings. One painting I did was from one of the Mother's photographs when she was only five years of age. It was printed and the Mother used it as a New Year card. When I asked the Mother to give the meaning to the painting, she asked me to fetch the Volume of Savitri which we always kept upstairs in our cupboard along with sketch-books, pencils, files and things like that. The Mother said:
You will open the book three times and I too will do the same. And we shall see then, what is appropriate for the painting. First I shall open. You will see...
She opened the volume. And when I opened it, twice the same lines appeared. The lines were:
There was a voice unheard by ears that cried: Choose, spirit, thy supreme choice not given again; For now from highest being looks at thee The nameless formless peace where all things rest... ||153.36||
The Mother passed some remarks which I cannot recall now. First she opened the book, then I did, again she did it. Thus, we opened it 6 times, thrice each in turn. Then she chose the lines which appeared when she opened the book the first time:
In a haven of safety and splendid soft repose One could drink life back in streams of honey-fire, Recover the lost habit of happiness... ||3.36||
I also did a painting from the Mother's photograph playing an organ. When I showed the painting to the Mother, she liked it very much and on the right corner of the painting she wrote:
A toi petit
Then she concentrated on the painting for a few minutes and said:
I have filled this painting with music. If you will concentrate on it, you will surely hear the music with your subtle ears.
It was my physical birthday—1St September 1964. I went to the Mother. That day we commenced painting Book Four—The Book of Birth and Quest. The Mother did six sketches. The next day I sent to the Mother the final sketches which I had done on canvas boards. She wrote:
The sketches are all right and will make very nice pictures if you invoke the inspiration.
But to invoke the inspiration was no happy-go-lucky state. Once you are merged in the inner consciousness it is difficult to get out of it.
Sri Aurobindo has written aptly on inspiration:
Inspiration is a slender river of brightness leaping from a vast and eternal Knowledge; it exceeds reason more perfectly than reason exceeds the knowledge of the senses.
I did one of the paintings of Book Four, showing Aswapathy in his garden one morning, contemplating. He saw a strange Light. It reminded him of Savitri's great mission upon earth. It was obvious that he had forgotten all about it. When the Mother read the passage of this picture with a magnifying glass, she looked at me and said quietly:
Funny fellow, how could he forget what Savitri had come upon earth to do?
And she laughed—I joined her. Her lively sense of humour appeared every now and then.
I am not aware that highly evolved personalities have no sense of humour or how the person can be said to be integrated when this sense is lacking. 'Looseness ' applies only to a frivolous levity without any substance behind it. There is no law that wisdom should be something rigidly solemn and without a smile.
I wrote to the Mother, asking how to dress and adorn Savitri, and what colour her hair, eyes and skin should be. I sent the Mother a few magazines of models, along with sketches. She wrote:
The sketches are quite good You can dress Savitri in one of these colourful saris; the style of them also is good.
For the hair let it be loose in these pictures. The colour must be auburn and the eyes dark golden, the fair Indian skin colour will be all right.
I am not keen on ornaments, but occasionally a flower in the hair may do.
After that when I asked what flower should be in her hair, the Mother said with a soft smile,
Jasmine
Also she wrote:
For Savitri:
No make up, no red dot on the forehead now for the moment. We shall put it when she goes abroad. Ivory skin will do quite well but a warm ivory, a sunny ivory.
Later, when I sent her the sketches, the Mother wrote:
The sketches are quite good. Would it be possible to make Savitri look at the landscape outside more intensely even if very little of her face is seen?
She must be wrapped in her contemplation of the vast world
Again I sent her the sketches. But I was not sure whether I could do nice paintings. She wrote:
The sketches are very good. Surely the inspiration will come and the paintings will be excellent.
She encouraged me a lot. But still sometimes I thought of giving up the work of painting because of disappointments. But the Mother never gave up. She wrote:
Be confident—the paintings will come all right.
When Savitri went in search of her mate, she was in a chariot.
I did the sketch according to what the Mother had explained to me. I sent it to her together with some other sketches. She wrote:
The sketches are all right. I have only changed the place of the Supreme Mother behind Savitri, because She must be touching the back of Savitri.
Here, I must write that the Mother herself had chosen the hair-do of Savitri when she set out.
Towards the end of the year, I used to feel uneasy and mostly I was sick both physically and mentally, and due to this sometimes I could not do sketches well. I sent a few to the Mother and wrote that I could not do them properly. She answered on 10th October 1964,
Yes, the sketches lack a little in style; but surely when you paint, the inspiration will come.
She wrote on 28th October,
Let the inspiration come through by remaining a moment very quiet before painting and the pictures will be quite nice.
Also she wrote, when I sent a few more sketches:
The sketches are quite good—nice inspiration for the paintings.
And she knew how I felt. Actually, I was not feeling very well so the whole week I could not get in tune with the inspiration, and it was impossible to paint. The following week I went to the Mother without the paintings. As far as I remember, it was the first time I went to her like this, and I realised how much my work had suffered! For, I could not possibly afford to waste my time in any way.
Now my situation has become such that I have to adjust my time according to my work. When I think of the past years and see how I have wasted my time, energy and consciousness I simply shudder. I am grateful to the Mother that she made me realise the value of time and so many other things.
If I had not undergone those hideous difficulties, disappointments and sufferings, I would have never understood what truth and reality lay behind my life. Everything was quite essential for my whole being. The Mother has truly shaped the being in spite of all my defects.
When I was submerged in the ocean of art, I forgot my existence. Sometimes I was so much engrossed in my work that I forgot to use my handkerchief to wipe my face or nose although I had a heavy cold. Instead of using the handkerchief, I used rags for my face and the handkerchief to wipe the brushes! My full concentration used to be on painting and nothing else. After finishing the work, when I went to clean the brushes and glanced at the mirror I was horrified to see my face with several patches of different colours adding a rainbow-glory to it! My hair was dishevelled.
Also sometimes while doing painting, I started feeling suffocated because of some heaviness in the heart—especially while doing the most tragic paintings. Besides the inner churning, outer struggle and sufferings were incessant. All this brought tears to my eyes. With one hand I was painting and with the other wiping my eyes.
The Mother's strides were getting longer and quicker. At times it was difficult to keep pace with her. I got exhausted. There were days when nothing existed for me except the mission of finishing the task I carried in my heart. To work with the Mother was not an easy thing. I had to pay a heavy price for it. I had to be faithful, straightforward, sincere and conscious all the time.
Up to Book Four, The Book of Birth and Quest, the Mother did practically all the sketches save a few; but later on, from Book Five—The Book of Love, she did only a few sketches by means of outlines with pencil on sheets of paper in order to explain to me and to give me ideas.
After I had seen the vision of beautiful colours and exquisite beings during my paintings of Book Six—The Book of Fate, the Mother left the colour schemes to me, so that I could express all that I had seen in harmony. But, in fact, whenever I was confused, whenever it was necessary, the Mother would not fail to explain to me the colours and forms, etc, in detail. This was the perfect harmony and happy interchange with our inner beings and the spiritual consciousness. I learned not only apparent things but the true inner things.
On 20th November 1964 I went to the Mother in the morning. She explained a few sketches of Book Five—The Book of Love, Cantos 1 and 2.
I sent her the final sketches which I had done on canvas boards. She wrote on 22nd November 1964:
The sketches are very good indeed—they will make excellent paintings, but wait for the inspiration—there is no hurry.
Love
P.S. For the recorder, it is quite good news and I am glad you are recording Savitri.
Yes, indeed, the Grundig tape-recorder came according to the Mother's prediction. She was very happy to receive it when the recorder was offered by me on 22nd September 1964.
I went to the Mother on 6th December. The Mother explained to me some more paintings of Book Five—The Book of Love, Canto 2. I asked her:
Mother, how am Ito show Satyavan? What type of clothes should he wear?
He must wear tight trousers—narrow from the hips to the ankles, and they can be painted dark brown.
My eyebrows went up while I said:
But, Mother, tight trousers are modem. In ancient times they did not wear pipe trousers, I believe. What about a dhoti?
Why, the trousers are perfectly all right. I do not like a dhoti here, because it is modern.
Then by means of a sketch she showed me a figure with trousers on it. I still tried to tell her about the dhoti but she sweetly cut me short.
On 18th December I showed the Mother the paintings of Book Five, Cantos 1 and 2. She remarked when she saw the painting of Satyavan:
Child, here you have shown the waist-line of Satyavan looking like that of a man of 50—thick and round. You must paint the waist-line with slender hips, and give Satyavan broad shoulders. Then the whole structure will be symmetrical.
When I showed the painting to the Mother, I thought it was awful. Once again I broached the subject regarding the dhoti. She said firmly:
Ah, no, I prefer trousers here. It is better if you change the colour of the trousers to pale greyish-blue instead of brown. Then they will look nice.
Here too some people criticised when they saw the exhibition of Savitri paintings. The Mother once remarked that people did not see beyond their noses. She always reiterated:
All these paintings are paintings of tomorrow—future paintings.
On 19th December 1964 the Mother wrote when I sent the sketches of Book Five, Canto 3:
The sketches are all right. I have retouched the sari of Savitri which looked a little like a balloon. Otherwise it is very good.
I expect a fine inspiration for the painting.
Here, the Mother retouched, with a pencil on the canvas board itself, the sketch which I had done at home. The Mother gave me a hint while writing:
I expect a fine inspiration...
When I showed her the last nine paintings, she did not seem very pleased with them except for the last one. She said of it:
It is nice and full of feeling.
I got down to redoing all the paintings which the Mother had rejected. I concentrated fully on her instructions.
If the paintings were not being done with deep contemplation, true consciousness, real feeling, sincerity, right attitude and proper understanding, the Mother rejected them totally without any hesitation. Then I had to do them all over again on new canvas boards.
Not a single Savitri painting remains untouched by the Mother.
When Satyavan and Savitri were supposed to embrace each other, I asked the Mother how I could show that in painting. A spark of humour appeared in her eyes. She smiled and said jokingly with a gesture of her two hands:
Show their arms around each other..
And she laughed softly. I knew at once that she was obviously testing my artistic taste, refinement and the state of my consciousness. I said seriously:
I can certainly paint it like that, but it will not look nice—it will be most physical and material, while here we are showing the spiritual union of the two divine Beings in all purity of perfection.
If you will approve, then I would like to show only their heads in white and gold flames. They meet in the highest Consciousness. What about that?
She spread her hands and said joyously:
Ha! That is it, this is what it should be.
Then she looked deeply into my eyes with a happy smile.
I knew all too well why I could not get the feeling, inspiration and right vibrations which I had been used to. It was because I had taken help from one of the artists who had drawn for me on the boards the position of Satyavan and Savitri when they had met. He was realistic and had his own mental formations and theories, while I was doing something more subtle and giving only impressions according to the Mother's guidance. I regretted to have taken help from him without the Mother's knowledge. But later I confessed before her. She only smiled because she knew that I could never adopt anybody's technique except her own. She had actually steeped me in her art and method, so my true being refused to accept anything else. This I realised concretely.
Now, in addition to all this aid I took from the artist, a woman used to barge into my house without informing me beforehand. She would come especially when I was completely absorbed in my work. At times she invited some people to my house without my knowledge to see the paintings of Savitri. Naturally I was annoyed and disturbed because the link of the inspiration broke. On top of this I was still not feeling too well.
This was the first time the Mother rejected so many paintings. Otherwise, she used to ask me to redo one or two. The Mother once told me:
Child, I am watching your every step—I follow you constantly on the path towards your goal.
No wonder she knew each and every side of my movements. And while I was doing the paintings of Savitri, she was very particular about everything I did.
On 8th January 1965 the Mother and I completed Book Five, The Book of Love.
So far the Mother used to read the typed script with a magnifying glass. Now, from 8th January 1965 onwards she made me read the verses from Savitri—the chosen passages for the paintings. She taught me how to recite them correctly. She said:
When you read the passages with perfect understanding and with clear mind I enter your consciousness and grasp the correct visions and then explain to you the paintings. When you understand the truth of the matter within yourself then it is very easy for me to make you understand the sketches of the paintings. So recite clearly, distinctly and slowly.
I tried my best to read the script with full understanding and with conscious attention. I also tried not to let my mind wander while reading the passages before her.
That day the Mother did some sketches of Book Six, The Book of Fate, Canto 1. The next day I sent her the sketches on canvas boards as usual. She wrote:
The sketches are very nice—quite successful.
On 19th January the Mother saw the paintings, which she liked.
On 20th January 1965 I sent more sketches of Book Six, Canto 1. She wrote:
The sketches are quite good.
I have only suggested a change for the revelation of Savitri, to make it more impressive...
No precision of form of the Supreme Mother. Just a mass of Light with a faint outline.
When Book Six, The Book of Fate, was in progress, I did the painting of Savitri's mother. I did not cover her head with the sari, so she lacked the appearance of royalty. The Mother asked me to cover her head. I said:
As I have painted the first picture of her without any covering, how will it look in other pictures if I cover her head?
The Mother smiled and said:
Why, but she can always cover her head when the sari slips from her head In the first picture the sari had slipped and in another picture she pulled it up!
I savoured her sense of humour.
The Mother was very particular about covering. One day I remember, while I was working my sari got disarranged. She arranged it and advised:
Child, you should always cover yourself properly.
On 29th January 1965 the Mother saw the last paintings of Canto 1 of Book Six, which she admired so much. On 29th January the Mother drew three sketches of Book Six, Canto 2, and made me understand the colour-schemes. The next day when I sent the sketches, she wrote:
The sketches are very good indeed.
LOVE
In the afternoon of 5th February the Mother saw the three paintings and said with joy:
O, they are excellent! Child, you have taken a sudden leap in your painting...
The Mother wrote an impressive message for the fourth volume of Meditations on Savitri paintings, which was to appear soon, thus:
Behind the appearances there is a subtle reality much closer to Truth; it is that one we are trying to show you.
The Mother got four volumes of Meditations on Savitri published in book-form from 1962 to 1965, covering Book One, Cantos 1 to 5.
To each volume the Mother gave an exquisite message.
She did not let me retouch or repaint the Savitri paintings for these volumes, because she said:
Child, these volumes are only an experiment. I want to show to the world how the consciousness is developed.
On 18th February 1965 I offered to her the 4th volume of Meditations on Savitri—Book One, Canto 5. The Mother appreciated it a great deal.
Then she did four sketches for Book Six, Canto 2. She saw the paintings on 26th and said:
Oh, this is a good quick progress, oh you have suddenly leaped...
On that day I read to her the last passages of Book Six, Canto 2. She drew the visions which she saw and explained their truths to me.
On 27th February 1965 I sent to the Mother the last sketches for Book Six for her approval. She remarked:
The sketches are really excellent.
I told the Mother about my psychological struggle and stress when I went to her. She advised:
Child, when you are in distress, you should not paint, because it will ruin the paintings.
But, Mother, why should I be in distress?
The Mother shook my hands with a broad smile and said:
Correct answer! This is what I want!
The Mother and I started Book Seven—The Book of Yoga. The Mother explained:
Now for this Book 7—The Book of Yoga—you must start when Savitri is sitting on a mat near Satyavan who is asleep. Savitri sees the aspects of the Divine Mother. When she sees the aspects, they can be painted and the answer they give to Savitri must be painted also. And finally Savitri meets her very Soul—the Supreme Mother. So you must choose the paintings very carefully.
You see, it is not possible for me to read and choose the verses for the paintings. I can understand when I read the passages by myself I cannot follow when others read Savitri to me. I can follow you when I go behind the very source but that also not perfectly well. So you must select the passages.
Also you must tell me how many paintings we have done.
I followed the Mother's instructions.
It seemed the Mother was putting more and more trust in me. I sincerely wished and prayed to her to make me worthy of her Grace and Love.
From that day, 9th March 1965 onwards, the Mother made me do almost all the sketches of the last Books. I also implored her to make me receptive and inspire me with her Force, Light, Consciousness and inner and outer guidance to go ahead.
Since 1958 my people wanted me to leave Huta House. I wrote to the Mother about it—not mentioning their names. She answered on 3rd December 1958:
3.12.58
You say that you want to leave your house and be lodged elsewhere.
But to leave a house where everything has been made to meet your requirements and is one of the very best houses of Pondicherry would be a most unreasonable and meaningless action, so I cannot, in any way, help you to do that.
Moreover, all decisions taken in excitement and passion are wrong. Cool down and then you will be able to see what you have to do.
My love
Still I was not happy with the uncomfortable surroundings and situation. Much later, once again I expressed my wish to leave the apartment which the Mother had arranged for me in 1958 and named Huta House.
She revealed to me the Truth:
19.3.65
Now it has become necessary to reveal to you an important fact concerning your spiritual life and especially your work for Savitri.
For some obvious reason, there is an adverse force which is interested in preventing you to carry on your work of painting. It tried first to stop it by a suggestion that you ought to commit suicide. Seeing that it could not succeed, now it has possessed your brain with a mental formation of disgust for your house and the suggestion that you can not do your work there. This is an utter falsehood. This adverse being knows quite well that your power for painting Savitri's pictures is closely connected with your studio where a special conscious formation has been created and kept for it, and that if you move elsewhere, it will be almost impossible for you to do the work, or at least that the inspiration will not come so easily and so fully.
I have told you the truth to give you the power to reject the hostile suggestion.
Have faith in the Lord and He will pull you through.
I kept quiet and left the matter to the Mother.
I had already started writing in bold letters the passages from Savitri for the Mother to recite. She wrote to me in this regard:
23.3.65
I have seen the script and can read it.
Of course, by practice, the letters will become more clear and regular, but the size is all right. That is why I send back the paper so that the size of the writing may always be the same.
The interspaces can do, but they must not be smaller. Be careful to keep them regular.
The most important is not to hurry. Do the writing slowly, without haste.
3.4.65
Dear little child Huta,
Both samples are good and I can read... easily if the words and the lines have enough space between them.
Surely on the 6th I shall read as much as I can do it properly; the quality, of the work is always more important than the quantity.
Love the Lord full heartedly and all will be well.
In Love eternal
Once I said to her:
My paintings are not perfect—they are not masterpieces. And look at those volumes of Meditations on Savitri—the drawings of forms are absolutely funny. You did not let me retouch them.
Yes, I did not let you retouch them because I want to show the world how the consciousness can be developed and the being moulded gradually... and I know for sure that in the end you will do masterpieces—though the paintings of the last Books of Savitri are not very easy to do and the colours of the vision are not physical. But I know everything will be all right.
Then I kept quiet.
Let the Mother's Will be done.
The Mother did hundreds of Savitri sketches along with her explanations. Also she wrote a number of letters in this regard. I recall one of her letters in connection with Book Seven:
7.4.65
The sketches are very good. Especially the 3 heads of Savitri are excellent. I have made a little change to the man of power. His hands must be chained separately each one to a machine on both sides of his body, because he does not see the chains and believes he is free.
Here the man represented Ego—the lines from Book Seven are:
She spoke and from the lower human world An answer, a warped echo met her speech ... ||123.28|| The voice rose up and smote some inner sun: "I am the heir of the forces of the earth, Slowly I make good my right to my estate ... ||123.33|| When earth is mastered, I shall conquer heaven; The gods shall be my aids or menial folk, No wish I harbour unfulfilled shall die: Omnipotence and Omniscience shall be mine. ||123.54||
13.5.63
Sri Aurobindo has written—most wonderfully—all that can be said on Savitri. I have nothing to add to it. But surely I shall help you to do all the paintings with the proper inspiration.
Nevertheless, the Mother has written many letters to me on Savitri. Once we had a talk and the Mother said:
After we have completed the paintings of the whole Savitri, we might exhibit them. Meanwhile, the process of taking slides will be improved. So, slides may be taken in the future of these paintings and then they may go all over the world.
Then I asked:
With your recitation of course?
She smiled and said:
Don't let us say anything at the moment... everything will be all right...
Our Savitri work progressed peacefully, steadily. I found Book Seven—The Book of Yoga—fascinating and promising.
I went more and more deeply into the spiritual and occult domain and explored one thing after another to find all that the Mother had revealed to me. This is not an imagination or fantasy or impression but a living reality.
Books Eight and Nine are full of tragedy and anxiety. I painted them with a gloomy heart.
I read new passages to the Mother. I took her the sketches which I had done at home. She saw them with pleasure and corrected them here and there. Now I was trying to do the sketches all by myself according to the Mother's inspiration.
When it was the question of Savitri's transformation, the Mother drew a sketch in front of me to throw more light on the subject, and said:
Child, it is not the physical transformation but the spiritual transformation.
Indeed, Inspiration simply gripped me and drove me once it was invoked.
I read four passages of Book Ten—The Book of the Double Twilight. The Mother made me understand the new paintings. After the work, she held my hands with all her love and compassion and said with a charming smile:
Here is a little message for you—you shall have true vision, true understanding. There is an opening...
And she kissed my forehead. Then she looked at me for quite a long time and said:
Your soul came out—just now I saw it on your face.
You know your soul did not go through all the evolution of the earth. It has come purely from the Supreme and it will go back purely to the Supreme.
She said all this with a gesture of her hand. What am Ito say? My eyes brimmed with tears and my heart was soothed immensely.
I sent the sketches to the Mother the next day. She wrote:
16.6.65
3 o'clock
Dear little child of mine
I have just seen the sketches which [are] all right. I like very much the expression of Savitri’s head.
But I suggest that the mother of Darkness should have her head bent in shame, something like the joined drawing.
All my love is with you to make you strong.
The verses of the first picture ran:
Night is not our beginning nor our end; She is the dark Mother in whose womb we have hid Safe from too swift a waking to world-pain. ||138.14||
Regarding the Night Sri Aurobindo has stated:
The Night is the symbol of the Ignorance or Avidya in which men live just as Light is the symbol of Truth and Knowledge.
I went to the Mother in the morning of 25th June 1965. She saw the four paintings of Book Ten, Canto 1, and said:
Your paintings are really improving—they are full of feeling.
When I read the new passages from Book Ten, Cantos 2 and 3, she asked me whether I had any idea or had done any sketches.
I nodded and showed her the sketches I had done at home. They were on small pieces of paper. They were the most ugly and rough I had ever done. I felt really ashamed to show them to her. But she looked at each of them with a magnifying glass and said with smile:
Right inspiration is there. They are all right.
I was simply amazed.
On 6th July the Mother saw the paintings and remarked:
They are indeed very good and make a good collection.
Then I read to her the new passages of Book Ten, Canto 4. She asked me:
Have you got any idea? Have you brought the sketches?
No, Mother, I am sorry I could not do them.
Then she made me understand the new paintings. But she also made me tell her my ideas and opinions. She exchanged hers with me and thus made me learn much. About one of her sketches, I said:
Mother, it isn't correct; nothing of the sort is said in that particular passage.
And I explained myself to her and drew a sketch on the block of sheets which was on her lap. She gladly approved of it. I was surprised because now she asked me about these matters. Afterwards I realised my blunder—who was Ito explain and correct her? But I knew within me that many a time she tested me. When I was not confused and spoke straight from my heart, she immediately accepted the ideas. I wrote to the Mother and showed my regret:
Whenever I come to you I forget everything including myself. I do not really know what I speak to you regarding Savitri. Sometimes unconsciously I correct you. I am terribly sorry. But you know, I behave with you like a friend on an equal level.
I love you.
Your child—Huta
She answered:
7.7.65
You like to read Savitri to me and to say your feelings about it—this is quite all right—and I like your understanding of Savitri, which is also all right. So, everything is all right and you can be sure of my friendship.
Really I marvelled at her humility. It was my conviction that she was omniscient and omnipotent—and yet she asked for my ideas and suggestions in order to encourage me in my work and in reaching my goal. Not only did she ask but also accepted my ideas and suggestions. I have no words to describe her magnanimity.
I painted the Mother's eyes from a photograph depicting her eyes. She liked the painting very much and asked me to include it in Savitri Book Ten—The Book of the Double Twilight: picture thirteen. These verses correspond to it:
And Savitri looked on Death and answered not.... ||147.1|| A mighty transformation came over her... ||147.3|| A curve of the calm hauteur of far heaven Descending into earth's humility Her foreheads span vaulted the Omniscient 's gaze, Her eyes were two stars watching the universe. ||147.7||
On 18th July 1965 I completed the painting of Book Ten. And on 23rd the Mother saw the last paintings. She said with a happy smile on her lips:
Child, I really had a doubt whether you could do the paintings of the last Books of Savitri but you have done better than I had expected. And they are very good.
Then pointing to picture sixteen, the Mother said with joy:
I like this painting very much. Death is eaten by the Light. It is very good—very impressive.
Mother, it is all your Grace. Only with your guidance and help I could do these types of painting.
She said with a luminous smile:
That is all right, but you really did well.
After I finished the painting of Book Ten, Canto 4 a few colours were left on the palette so I painted a picture which I sent to the Mother. I wrote to her that I wanted to learn sculpture. She replied:
9.7.65
I do not exactly know what the picture means, but I find it very pretty, the colours are attractive and the eye is impressive!
As for learning sculpture, there is an artist here who can teach you.
When I went to the Mother for our Savitri work, she told me about the painting which I had sent to her:
Child, the painting is exactly what Sri Aurobindo has described in Savitri. I must find out the quotation. If I cannot then I myself will give a meaning to the picture.
Later the Mother found the verses from Savitri. She wrote on a paper and then gave it to me:
The Witness looks from his unshaken poise, An Eye immense regarding all things done.
The Mother wanted to make a New Year Card from the painting. But unhappily, the reproduction of the painting was not to the Mother's satisfaction.
She asked me to do a new painting for the purpose. She encouraged me:
Child, I know you will do it—the inspiration will come.
The Mother's wish was fulfilled. She sent me an appreciative note:
The picture is nice with a very strong felling in it. I hope they will make a good reproduction. Herewith I send the meaning to print on the card.
The Mother was very happy to use the card for the New Year.
Much later in 2006 I got the picture printed in the form of a calendar through my Trust—Havyavahana Trust.
Here I recall the time when I was doing the paintings of Book Eleven—The Book of Everlasting Day: I invoked Inspiration late at night. I did eleven paintings overnight—at a stretch. In a jiffy I could finish them! I totally forgot my existence!
The next morning I found blisters on my fingers and realised the work of the divine Inspiration using my hands only! For those paintings the Mother remarked:
Child, you have done exactly what Sri Aurobindo meant and wrote in the Epic.
The following morning she sent me a card accompanied by these words:
The Light, the Peace and the Love of the Lord always.
On 14th of August 1965 the Mother saw me. Once again I expressed my wish to learn sculpture. She disagreed:
No, it will spoil your hands—it has to do with a material thing—clay. It is better for you not to touch it.
All right, Mother. But then what should I do after I have finished the paintings of the whole of Savitri?
She answered sweetly:
The new work of Savitri is being prepared for you.
I wanted to learn more music both vocal and instrumental, for I had passed my advanced examinations in both many years back in Rajkot. My physical mother was anxious that my younger sister and I should learn music, Hindi and Sanskrit. I was doing my Senior Cambridge in East Africa. I had to give up my studies there and come to India to learn about Indian culture. I passed my Matriculation exam in Rajkot and joined a college for several months. Then back to Africa. From there I travelled to England and the Continent in 1952.
I expressed my wish to learn music. The Mother said:
No, my child, pay exclusive attention to Savitri.
On 24th August 1965 I read to the Mother the passages from Book Twelve—Epilogue. I did the final sketches on the canvas boards themselves. So far I had done them on papers for her approval.
These last sketches were a bit romantic and I was hesitating to show them to the Mother. Nevertheless, she appreciated them and approved all of them. She saw everything from the highest Consciousness, while we poor human beings see with our petty consciousness! In the true sense Satyavan and Savitri are the Divine and the Soul.
The Mother said on that day:
We shall have an exhibition of all the paintings of Savitri in 1967, and we shall have a certain kind of thin frame made just to separate these paintings. For these paintings are only illustrations. They must be prominent against the thin frames...
When I wrote to the Mother about polishing of the frames, she answered:
Polish is bad taste and not artistic
Once again the Mother wrote to me about the frames and their clips:
For the place of the clips at least one painting is necessary to have the exact thickness.
Some clips will be fitted to each frame to hold the paintings. No need of a carpenter, anybody a little careful can fix them in.
I was absorbed in doing the last paintings of the last Book. The hostile forces played their last dreadful game by following me constantly like a shadow. Whenever there was a chink, they simply rushed into my consciousness and set everything topsy-turvy. When I was engrossed in my work, I was not affected by them. But in unconscious moments I was trapped. I had a doubt whether I could finish the paintings of Book Twelve—Epilogue. Hostile forces in some people tried desperately to prevent me from reaching the goal. I wrote to the Mother:
Why shouldn't Truth and Love reign upon earth? Why shouldn't human beings act under their influence in order to have peace and harmony? Surely You and the Lord can do something.
27.8.65
But it is evident that Truth and Love are not quite welcome just now upon earth, because the human heart is not yet ready for them—and if they were enforced upon the human consciousness by an act of Power, they would no more be the Truth and the Love, but something artificial.
That is why the collaboration of the human consciousness is indispensable, and the way is long and arduous.
However the Divine Grace is there always and each fall can be changed into a springing board for a new progress.
á demain
Now the hideous difficulties and sufferings and disappointments reached their climax. The dark forces rushed upon me in numberless forms from every nook of the nether planes. My consciousness was blurred—I was completely lost... That day I wrote in my spiritual diary:
I have almost finished the last paintings of Savitri. I know how I have undergone severe ordeals. I am totally surrounded by the adverse forces—their atmosphere and vibrations are lethal.
All the paintings have been done amidst dreadful struggle and suffering. The strife between two opposite Forces—the divine Force and the anti-divine force—was too much for me. But, yes, the golden snake is fighting fiercely in order to win the victory. And this is the year it must win. That was the vision I saw in 1956. The Mother wrote a few letters in this regard.
My soul's resolution is either to die or to win but not to give in to the evil forces.
There is no end to my endurance. I am sick—sick to death—I am exhausted—I want some rest—I want some peace...
O Mother, O Lord, do not fail me.
As days, months and years passed our work almost came to a close. Each day was a new revelation for me. Each painting had its own story—told and written by the Mother.
I went to the Mother on 31st August 1965, in the afternoon. She was fully aware of my critical situation. She looked deeply into my eyes and said:
Child, come closer to me.
I did so. She held my head with her two hands, and leaned forward so that our heads touched. We remained like that for a few seconds. Then she kissed me on the top of my head. I saw in her shining eyes endless compassion—her eyes moist and diamond bright—she suffered with me.
The next day it was my physical birthday. I went to the Mother in the morning with a melancholy mood. I was still not out of the wood.
The Mother saw the last paintings of Book Twelve—Epilogue on 1st September 1965.
For painting twelve the Mother said:
O, it is like a fairyland.
She saw the last paintings of Savitri.
The verses of picture thirteen ran:
Numberless the stars swam on their shadowy field Describing in the gloom the ways of light. ||159.4|| Then while they skirted yet the southward verge, Lost in the halo of her musing brows Night, splendid with the moon dreaming in heaven In silver peace, possessed her luminous reign. ||159.5|| She brooded through her stillness on a thought Deep-guarded by her mystic folds of light, And in her bosom nursed a greater dawn. ||159.6||
When the Mother saw the painting she told me in moving words:
It is beautiful, excellent—full of feeling:
I actually saw her eyes moist with tears of happiness—because indeed, she was anxiously waiting for the auspicious day to come, the great Dawn of the Supramental World. Then we had a peaceful meditation. After that the Mother looked at me for quite a long time. Then suddenly she spread her arms and took me into them—she kissed my forehead and cheeks. It was a perfect Divine Love. She promised me:
Child, henceforth everything will come automatically—spontaneously through your hand. My Inspiration will hover over your head. When you invoke it, it will come.
Despite my colossal struggle, setbacks, miseries and trouble the Mother made me fulfil her wish and vision along with my soul's aspiration.
Then with a smile she put a garland of Jasmines around my neck—this was my reward. In my birthday card she wrote:
1.9.65
Bonne Fête!
With my blessings for your whole being to become conscious of your soul and to manifest it constantly in your thoughts, feelings and actions.
In Eternal Love
The Savitri paintings and other paintings were done in the midst of hideous difficulties and sufferings. Many a time the Mother was taken suddenly ill she ran a temperature along with a cold and cough. Despite all this, she never stopped explaining to me Savitri paintings. On my side too there were spells of indisposition. But the stress of inspiration was so intense that I could not stop. The Mother gave certain dates in the week for our work. The rest of the days I was so preoccupied with painting that sometimes there was no time even to comb my hair. When my maid servant was absent, I had no time to go to the Dining Room. I had to make do with bits of bread and water. Often the electricity failed. The inspiration was so intense that I had to hold a flash-light in one hand and keep on painting with the other. I simply could not halt. During the rainfall, the water would leak from all sides of the ceiling. I suffered from a severe cold and cough. I had to clean the rooms before I retired late at night.
The Mother instructed me that I should clean the brushes and the palette as soon as my work was over. Several times I got electric shocks in the water while cleaning the brushes. They were terrifying. Later this was rectified by Bula-da for whom I had a great regard. Once he told me:
Huta, let other people go in the Frontier Mail, we will go in the goods train. That too will reach the goal—slowly but surely.
I liked his advice.
The Mother's Force was working ceaselessly in my whole being to fulfil my soul's aspiration. She believed in killing several birds with one stone. Only the Divine Diplomat can do this.
On 29th November 1965 I showed the Mother the paintings of Books Five and Six which I had retouched and redone. She said:
There are feelings in them.
If you feel strongly and if you think that the other paintings can be retouched and repainted nicely, then do so by all means.
The Mother knew my urge for perfection in doing things.
Throughout the whole year of 1966 the Mother asked me to retouch and repaint many of the Savitri paintings according to her instructions. I told the Mother:
When I have finished re-touching and re-doing the Savitri paintings according to your guidance, I shall have no work.
She smiled and affirmed:
You see, you will have so many things to do. Only idle people can say they have no work!
It was a great joy for me to know all about Auroville and the Mother's Shrine (such was the name of the Matrimandir then) from the Mother. She wrote to me several letters in this regard. Much later I published a book—The Spirit of Auroville—written by me.
21 .6.63
My dearest little child Huta
With your Rs. 500 of today I have started a purse on which is written: "Huta Auroville." So, little by little the money will collect.
In your yesterday's letter you spoke of a dream of your childhood "the most beautiful spot of the world". This was also a dream of my own childhood. So our dreams have met for realisation.
Now it is only to be worked out. When we know how to wait, we put Time on our side.
On Friday, 25th June 1965, the Mother said with a smile:
And you will be the guardian of the Mother's Shrine. Your tiny house in the shape of a lotus-bud will be built on the island very close to my house.
Then after a pause she added:
Child, look! All these letters of yours have started the Mother's Shrine.
The Mother showed my letters which she kept in her diary.
In answer to my letter regarding the Mother's Shrine, the Mother wrote:
1.3 .66
Very dear little child Huta
The pure love from your heart and soul is all that is required to make you worthy of being the guardian of the Truth Pavilion.
On 7th April 1966 I went to the Mother in the morning as arranged by her. She went into a trance and then she opened her eyes and said:
Child, read Savitri over and over again.
I wrote to the Mother about publishing the paintings of the rest of Savitri. She answered:
8.4.66
My very dear little child Huta
It seems indeed wiser to wait for publishing the rest of "Meditations on Savitri" until we have our own block-making machine and are able to do the things properly according to our own understanding.
There is a much greater joy in perfection than in haste.
True love is eternal and most sweet.
The Mother's confirmation about Auroville:
20.5.66
You say that Auroville is a dream. Yes, it is a "dream" of the Lord and generally these "dreams" turn up to be true much more true than the human so-called realities!
I had a habit of going out of my body to explore the subtle worlds. The Mother knew about this. So she answered me:
9.9.66
Wherever you go in sleep, subconscient or vital, you are always protected.
The Mother wrote to me regarding the Savitri paintings.
12.11.66
It will be done as you ask—tomorrow morning. As for the paintings I like to see them. So bring some every time you come.
With the peace and the joy of living in the Lord and all my love forever.
Now I had almost finished retouching and repainting the Savitri paintings.
On 5th January 1967 the Mother saw the pictures of Book Seven and appreciated:
All these paintings are really good. There is charm in them and they are beautiful to look at. You did well.
On 16th January 1967 the Mother encouraged me by writing these words:
16.1.67
You have worked wonderfully!
The exhibition of Savitri paintings started taking shape under the guidance and instructions of the Mother. There were some Ashramites who were happy and willing to collaborate in the work, according to the Mother's wish. She wrote a letter to me in this regard:
20.1.67
To my very dear little child Huta
Welcome to all those who aspire to do the Lord's work.
On 23rd January 1967 I saw the Mother. She gave me a huge bouquet with a sweet smile and said:
It looks like a birthday bouquet! Whenever I see white flowers I add them to the bouquet.
Many a time after giving me bouquets, the Mother used to wipe her hands with my sari—although she had her own handkerchief! In doing so, she smiled sweetly.
The Mother saw the paintings of Books Ten and Eleven which I had retouched and repainted. While seeing the paintings of Book Eleven—The Everlasting Day, she seemed to be mostly in trance: her half-closed eyes and the expression of her face showed as if she was in some magnificent reverie.
Then she said:
Child, you have crossed the river. Now you are on the other side of it.
The paintings are excellent—a few are really moving. They have exactly pictured what Sri Aurobindo meant and wrote in the Epic.
Since the Mother had asked me not to go to the Exhibition Hall when the exhibition of the Meditations on Savitri paintings was to be opened, I wrote this declaration and sent it to the Mother for her approval.
'All can be done if the God-touch is there'. ||1.17||
This is what Sri Aurobindo has written in Savitri. I feel that the painting of the pictures exhibited here is explained only by this line. For the task which the Mother had given me was so immense, so beyond the capacity of the little instrument she had summoned that only her Grace working in Sri Aurobindo's Light could have seen me through.
I am deeply grateful to the Mother for her constant personal guidance—outward as well as inward. And what shall I say of the Presence of Sri Aurobindo, helping all along?
I thank the Mother also for making possible a study of the Epic with Amal Kiran.
The Mother wrote to me the following letter:
26.1.67
Your declaration is very good indeed and it will look quite nice where you want to put it.
With all my love for you and blessings for the exhibition
On 30th January 1967 I went to the Mother at 10 am. She saw the paintings of the last Book—Epilogue—along with the big portrait I had done of Savitri. The Mother liked them all. Especially she liked the last picture of Savitri—contemplating the golden Dawn. Then the Mother said:
Before the exhibition is declared open, you must go there and see whether the arrangements of the paintings are all right.
The next day the Mother wrote:
1.2.67
Amrita will go at 10.30 am on the 10th to open the exhibition and Nolini will go with him.
All my love
I wrote to the Mother whether it was necessary to display the four volumes of Meditations on Savitri along with the Savitri paintings at the Exhibition Hall. She replied:
8.2.67
Yes, it is good to have some copies of "Meditations on Scrvitri" at the exhibition. I am sure everything will be all right.
On the 8th in the evening I went to the Exhibition Hall for a check-up. When I entered the first room, I saw my beloved Savitri smiling at me!
I read the Mother's writing:
Truly there was Savitri in full living presence in the Exhibition Hall. I was happy—very happy indeed. I saw each and every painting and could not keep back my tears. Each painting was living. I could not believe my eyes that I could do all these paintings. But all was the Mother's Grace and her own creation. I was profoundly grateful to the Mother for using me for her purpose. As always my aspiration was:
O Divine, prepare me, make me worthy, and use me always for your cause.
The arrangement was simply superb, but a few paintings had got upside down; they were put straight when I pointed out the oversight.
It is well known that the Mother was a fine artist who excelled in drawing and sketching as well as oil-painting. When she started teaching me how to draw objects I realised how engrossed she would be when doing sketches. While explaining Savitri to me and showing me the way to paint it, the Mother simply poured her heart out in expressing through a few strokes the whole vision of each selected passage.
On 18th July 1966 I went to the Mother for the Savitri work. After the work I told her:
Mother some people have said that you are preparing to go...
She laughed softly and answered:
Yes, people think like that. It is a falsehood And a falsehood has no influence on the Truth. But the Truth has an influence on falsehood. Let them think as they like...
Mother, somebody also asked me, 'How can the Mother do sketches when her hands are shaky?' Some others think you are suffering from paralysis. Everything is awful. These people are really ridiculous!
The Mother replied with surprise:
Oh, but my hands are not shaky, and I am quite all right. You see, my child, ever since I retired people have started imagining all sorts of things. But it is a mistake. I do my work all the same.
In this context, I later asked the Mother:
If you kindly permit, I greatly wish to exhibit your sketches along with the paintings of Savitri. If you trust me, I shall have them best displayed.
She smiled sweetly and said:
Yes, I leave this matter to you. Do whatever you like.
I said joyously:
Mother, I am honoured and happy. I am eager to show people these sketches, because some have thought that one of your hands was too shaky to draw anything. After seeing hundreds of your sketches they will realise that there is no shakiness in your hands.
The Mother was extremely happy and caressed my cheeks.
So along with the Savitri paintings, many of the Mother's sketches were also exhibited.
I asked the organisers to write:
The Mother's sketches of Savitri paintings.
Further, I asked them to place all the Mother's sketches in glass show-cases, so that people might know and appreciate them.
On the 9th once again I went to the Exhibition Hall for the final check-up. Everything was all right.
I read the notice:
I came to know that no one had been invited for the next day's occasion. I wrote an urgent letter to the Mother. Next morning the Mother herself sent word to the people whom she wanted to go. Later I learnt that there were many more people than expected and everything went on successfully.
The same day, the 10th, I went to the Mother for the work. At the last moment I did another big portrait of Savitri and showed it to the Mother that morning. The Mother liked it very much—especially the blue eyes of Savitri. She instructed me:
This painting must be kept in the last room—from where people will go out after seeing all the paintings.
Five rooms were packed with the paintings. In the sixth room this new portrait of Savitri was placed according to the Mother's wish.
The Mother said with a smile:
Child, now tell me all about the arrangements at the Exhibition Hall.
I gave her a full description. She was happy.
I also apprised her of the remarks of certain people who had been with me on the previous night: that they felt giddy to see all the paintings at a time and that the paintings were too crowded and too close to each other.
The Mother laughed softly and said:
Good, this is exactly what I wanted—people to feel the Force and feel giddy too.
Further she added with all her affection:
Child, you have done nice work—the exhibition is nice. Within 10 years, not only have you progressed outwardly but inwardly as well. You have achieved something. I am happy.
You can do beautiful things. Now everything will come to you naturally without any effort.
The Lord wants you to paint the creation of the New World.
Tears of gratitude welled up in my eyes. I could not say anything except:
Your Grace, Mother.
Then after a pause I said:
Mother, I am feeling very sorry—all the paintings are gone from my apartment.
I sobbed. The Mother said with all her compassion:
Keep a few paintings with you when all the paintings will go to Golconde in two rooms.
No, Mother, all must remain together in Golconde.
But the tears kept rolling down my checks. The Mother consoled me:
Child, the Lord wants you to do the new paintings—the New Creation.
As regards Golconde, after the Mother's note and her decision the Savitri paintings were to go there:
Yes—a place to keep Huta's paintings is very necessary. Blessings
That very night the Mother gave the following message for the Exhibition
The importance of Savitri is immense.
Its subject is universal. Its revelation is prophetic.
The time spent in its atmosphere is not wasted
Take all the time necessary to see this exhibition. It will be a happy compensation for the feverish haste men put now in all they do.
Also, she signed the following paper, for she never wanted photographs of the Savitri paintings to be taken and misused.
I wrote a letter to the Mother.
My sweet Mother,
It seemed impossible to finish the paintings of Savitri but you not only made it possible but done.
Now I only pray to you to make me reach my goal.
She answered on 12th February 1967:
As the paintings were done, so the Goal will be reached. With all my Love
I was receiving many notes from people regarding the exhibition. I informed the Mother:
All the praise I offer to you. For me the important thing is to realise the Divine—the rest is zero.
My love—Yours—Huta
13.2.67
Yes, everything is going on well with the exhibition.
But you are right; the only thing that truly matters is to realise the Divine—and that is sure to be.
In connection with the Savitri paintings which were exhibited on loth February 1967 according to the Mother's wish, I came across, in the Bulletin—February 2003, page 23—the question put by a disciple to the Mother, and her answer came on 13th February 1967:
Q. The "Savitri" exhibition is full of pictures depicting Savitri, the ascent of the being, the descent of the divinity, and the divine play. The pictures radiate a light that is as beautiful as it is strong, similar to what I feel near you. Is this my imagination or is it true?
A. It is quite true and I am glad that you have seen it.
On the morning of 17th February 1967 the Mother saw me in her music-cum ¬interview room where we used to work. It was a Friday. She said with a smile:
People liked the exhibition very much. They told me and wrote to me of it. I received many notes about the big portrait of Savitri.
The exhibition is really a success.
A dear old lady expressed her view regarding the Savitri paintings:
Huta, I saw the exhibition of Savitri paintings. You have done the work of 100 births in this one life. You are liberated.
I replied to her:
I appreciate your good will but it was all the Grace of the Divine.
Here I recall Michelangelo's words:
The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.
I came to know that some people carried the book of Savitri (First University Edition 1954) with them to the Exhibition Hall in order to study the paintings. From this very Edition the Mother recited the selected passages which corresponded with the paintings. These passages were tape-recorded by me. Underneath each painting there was a passage so that people could read and understand the paintings.
After seeing the exhibition of Savitri paintings, some people became inquisitive—how everything had been started. Some thought that the Mother asked me to paint a doll! I informed the Mother. She said to me:
But I never asked you to paint a doll!
Exactly, people talk and imagine according to their own ideas.
She smiled and looked at me for quite a long time. And then she said smilingly:
Inspiration is always standing above the forehead. When it comes to you and ideas are formed or you wish to do anything, you must offer all the ideas and wishes with all sincerity to the Lord and tell Him, 'O Lord, these are my ideas and wishes. Do the best to make them possible. '
Your ideas and wishes are partial—on a small scale, but when you offer them to the Lord, they become wide and impartial.
All these things can be done in hours, in days, in months or in a year 's time. Nothing is impossible for the Lord who will do the best—not only the best—but the very best.
You must be quiet, eventually everything becomes a miracle. You see, everything is like a big curve...
Here the Mother put her finger near her chest and traced with it in the air a curve outwards. She continued:
At first everything seems impossible but in the end these very things are done miraculously, wonderfully by the Lord.
Now, as for your having an office, your wishes are true—there is a truth behind your wishes, but, child, you must pass on everything to the Lord and let Him do the rest. You are indeed blessed, guided and protected Be quiet and peaceful. Do not let your mind come in between and put suggestions; you simply say 'I don't understand '
I at once held her hands and said:
But, Mother, I always pray to you to make me exactly according to your Will.
The Mother nodded and said:
I know and hear your prayers because I get the vibrations.
Then she kissed the top of my head and caressed it.
Ever since I started working with the Mother, I observed and felt that she was constantly giving me her Force, Vision and Inspiration for me to grasp and execute the things she wanted. Not once but many times I caught the right visions and the Mother accepted them all.
I simply felt that the powerful vibrations which were coming from the Mother entered my brain and heart. Then at once I expressed all that I realised with inner eyes.
Now I felt inspired to do paintings of Sri Aurobindo's Poems. I expressed my feelings to the Mother. She said:
But Sri Aurobindo has written many poems—Collected Poems, Poems Past and Present, More Poems, Last Poems, and so on.
Mother, I will read all the Poems and do the paintings. And, if you wish we shall have another exhibition next year.
The Mother was pleased and said smilingly:
Child, I know very well that you cannot live without doing painting.
On 20th February 1967 the Mother sent me a card with these words:
“To my immortal child
With Immortal Love”
She also sent me this message which was going to be distributed the next day—on her birthday:
When darkness deepens strangling the earth's breast And man's corporeal mind is the only lamp, As a thief's in the night shall be the covert tread Of one who steps unseen into his house. ||11.45|| A Voice ill-heard shall speak, the soul obey, A Power into mind's inner chamber steal, A charm and sweetness open life's closed doors And beauty conquer the resisting world, The truth-light capture Nature by surprise, A stealth of God compel the heart to bliss And earth grow unexpectedly divine. ||11.46||
Immediately I recognised this passage which the Mother liked very much while explaining to me one of Savitri paintings in Book One, Canto 4.
It was a Tuesday, the morning of the 28th. That day the Mother saw all the books of Sri Aurobindo's poems. She was happy to learn that now I was eager to do the paintings of these poems. I prayed to her for her help. She said:
Yes, but you must write each poem in big letters with a felt-pen so that I can read easily. You see, I can't read typescript because my eyes are getting bad.
I answered her:
Mother, I will do exactly what you want.
Still I was writing in big letters the selected passages of Savitri for her to recite on the recorder. This work was going on steadily.
Now I had to write the selected poems in big letters.
I wanted more work in order to forget myself
The exhibition of Savitri paintings lasted almost a month. People were demanding to prolong it but the Mother disapproved—so it was not possible.
Meanwhile, somebody sent me this cutting from a newspaper:
After the exhibition of Savitri paintings closed, on 8th March 1967, the paintings were taken to Golconde and arranged in two rooms—Nos. 8 and 9 on the 3" floor, East wing—which were given by the Mother to preserve the Savitri paintings and numerous other paintings in several small and big cupboards.
The Mother's and Sri Aurobindo's photographs were installed in the rooms by M. Andre with the Mother's blessings.
During that time some people suggested to me that these paintings should be displayed all over the world. When the Mother saw me, I spoke to her enthusiastically about the people's wish. She listened to me attentively and said:
No, we prepare Truth here. If people have thirst for Truth, they must come to us. We must not go to them. We must not lower our dignity, that is to say the superiority of the Truth.
I recall one of her letters which is quite apt:
20.7.65
Yes, my dearest little child Huta
We are here to bring upon earth the victory of Truth and Love—and it will be done.
When I completed illustrating the whole of Savitri—Books One to Twelve—under the Mother's direct guidance, and after the exhibition of Savitri paintings, she gave me her own painting depicting a flower—"Grace" which she did on 14th December 1956 in front of me in order to show me how to paint a picture with various oil colours. It was really a beautiful token of the Mother's appreciation and love.
Later I came across a review about the Savitri paintings in the Bulletin of Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education as follows:
We had during this quarter around the Darshan period, a very noteworthy exhibition of the paintings on "Savitri". All the twelve books of this great Epic of Sri Aurobindo were illustrated by 460 paintings. These were exhibited, each picture with its corresponding verse, in the four Exhibition rooms of the house. The whole work was by Huta, directly inspired and guided in her work by The Mother Herself and the sketches of The Mother on which these paintings were based were also exhibited.” Each visit to the exhibition was indeed a remarkable experience.
We had during this quarter around the Darshan period, a very noteworthy exhibition of the paintings on "Savitri". All the twelve books of this great Epic of Sri Aurobindo were illustrated by 460 paintings. These were exhibited, each picture with its corresponding verse, in the four Exhibition rooms of the house. The whole work was by Huta, directly inspired and guided in her work by The Mother Herself and the sketches of The Mother on which these paintings were based were also exhibited.”
Each visit to the exhibition was indeed a remarkable experience.
As The Mother Herself commented:”
The importance of Savitri is immense. Its subject is universal. Its revelation is prophetic. The time spent in its atmosphere is not wasted. Take all the time necessary to see this exhibition. It will be a happy compensation for the feverish haste men put now in all things they do. The Mother, Words of the Mother - I: Work and Teaching
The importance of Savitri is immense. Its subject is universal. Its revelation is prophetic. The time spent in its atmosphere is not wasted. Take all the time necessary to see this exhibition. It will be a happy compensation for the feverish haste men put now in all things they do.
The Mother, Words of the Mother - I: Work and Teaching
On 10th March 1967 we started the new work—paintings inspired by poems of Sri Aurobindo. The Mother read with a magnifying glass a passage from 'Songs to Myrtilla' which I had typed in capital letters. Then I gave her a sketch book to show me a picture with a few strokes. She said with a smile:
Ah, but my child, I haven't done sketches for ages!
I pleaded:
Mother, please do only a few lines. I will be inspired.
The Mother went into a trance. On waking, she did a sketch and explained to me the colour-scheme.
That very night I painted the picture. The next morning I sent it to the Mother. She wrote:
12.3.67
The painting is excellent—this is a very good start for the new series. Cheer up, my child, you do well what you do, and you say that you are lonely, but the Lord is with you and surely that is a big solace.
It was Monday, 29th March 1967. I read to the Mother some passages from Collected Poems. She asked me to reject three passages and do paintings of the rest. I prayed to her to show me through her sketches what to do about these pictures. She said while touching her forehead:
I am blank. I do not see any pictures. Do them with the inspiration which I am giving you.
I said with disappointment:
Oh! if you can't, how can I do them?
She spoke with a soft laughter, nodding her head:
I know that you can do them. Simply sit in front of the boards and the inspiration will come.
Then she caressed my hands and looked deeply into my eyes with her luminous and smiling gaze.
I did the paintings according to her inspiration and instructions. In fact, from time to time she corrected my paintings and never forgot to explain to me in detail the colour-scheme.
The Mother saw all the fifty-four paintings of Sri Aurobindo's poems on 1st September 1967. She liked them very much and expressed her happiness and satisfaction. These paintings along with some new ones I had done under the Mother's guidance were exhibited on 20th February 1968. The Mother's message for this exhibition ran:
Here are pictures inspired by some of Sri Aurobindo's poems.
Those who appreciated the illustrations of Savitri will surely like to see these paintings.
My declaration was:
"Nature proves her collaboration with a smile of flowers"
Love and Grace of our Divine Mother are endless...
To express our gratitude, —
Let us all collaborate with Her fully and sincerely with our deepest love...
20.2.68 Huta
The Mother was pleased with the declaration.
In 1970 slides were made of these paintings along with the paintings of Savitri. The slides were shown in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram Theatre during the Birth Centenary of Sri Aurobindo in 1972.
Later it was stated in the Bulletin of Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education about the exhibition of paintings—Pictures of Sri Aurobindo's Poems:
During the Darshan period there were the following exhibitions:
“Batik and Painting; handloom products; Dolls; New pictures by Ashram artists; Embroidery; Ashram Publications; and paintings by Huta on Sri Aurobindo's short poems.”
For the Savitri paintings the Mother recited the passages and I recorded them. The background music was her own organ-music. When the time came to recite the Poems, her voice failed. So I recited them with her approval. I did the recording of my recitation at home. It took me almost six months. I did it late at night when everything was hushed. Later I went to the projector room to blend this recitation with the background music composed by Sunil Bhattacharya. I requested the Mother to hear the recitation before it was played to the audience.
On the morning of 20th December 1967 the Mother saw me in her music-cum¬interview room. She asked me:
Have you brought anything to show me? I said:
Yes, Mother, this is the file of four hundred and sixty-five passages of Savitri which you recited and which were put below the Savitri paintings when they were exhibited on 10th February 1967 under the title you had given.
Mother, will you please explain these passages to me and allow me to take down your explanation of them on my tape-recorder as I have done with your recitations of these passages? Then surely people will understand the Savitri paintings more easily.
She meditated for a moment or two and said enthusiastically:
If I have to explain these passages, I would rather prefer to start from the very beginning and give a full explanation of the whole of Savitri.
As a matter of fact, it had already been planned in the Mother's Vision long ago before I came to stay near her on 10th February 1955.
Once she revealed to a small group of Sadhaks soon after the first one-volume edition of Savitri had been published in 1954 by the Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education:
Savitri is occult knowledge and spiritual experience. Some part of it can be understood mentally—but much of it needs the same knowledge and experience for understanding it. Nobody here except myself can explain Savitri. One day I hope to explain it in its true sense.
As we went on, the Mother uncovered Sri Aurobindo's Visions and Hers of the New World expressing the Supramental Light, Consciousness, Force and Delight. She disclosed their effect on the cells of the body. She took only the theme of Savitri as the starting-point and, when the right time came, spoke about the action of the New Consciousness which had been manifesting since the beginning of the year 1969.
On Thursday, 11th January 1968, I saw the Mother in the afternoon. She gave me a bouquet and a copy of Savitri (First University Edition—1954) on which she wrote:
To Huta with blessings for a perfect understanding
While giving the copy, the Mother recited one line of it and advised me:
Child, when you read Savitri, you must not read very loudly but slowly and clearly.
Then she looked at me for quite a long time, and kissed my forehead.
I kissed her hand with mute prayers of my soul.
Next day I received a card from the Mother with these promising words.
12.1.68
Let your thoughts be filled with the Divine's Truth and your heart be filled with the Divine's Love.
It was the beginning of my new life, new work and new consciousness.
The Mother and I launched on the new work of About Savitri on 18th January 1968, after we had finished the work of Meditations on Savitri.
She took Savitri as the base, the great epic poem written by Sri Aurobindo, but commented on the New World, New Race, New Consciousness, New Force and New Light. She affirmed that Consciousness, Force and Light would spread their vibrating influence to change the course of the present world. All depends on how much we are conscious of these Powers and responsive and receptive to them in order to realise the Truth's final Victory.
The Mother recited the first line of the Epic on the recorder:
It was the hour before the Gods awake
Then she gave an explanation about the Creator and Her Creation.
After that the Mother remained silent for a few moments, then asked me to write the script of the whole of Savitri in big letters with felt pen on sheets of handmade papers, so that she might read easily while reciting the Epic on the tape-recorder (a "Grundig" model). Then she would meditate and give her comment on each passage, and it would be taken down on the recorder by me. I would transcribe from it in a day or so, and later type it out.
According to the Mother's wish I started writing in bold letters the verses on big, thick sheets of handmade paper with a Japanese black felt pen. I had to write many sheets to complete the whole passage.
During that time the Mother said:
If you write the verses with full concentration, you will have control over your nerves and your nerves will become strong.
The Mother chose the size and colour of handmade paper and asked me to paint by using the pigment Gouache.
In answer to my letter the Mother wrote to me on 20th January 1968:
The sketch is interesting. We shall speak of it on 25th.
The transcription of the recording needs corrections, but it will be done before the 25th. The script is all right. It can be smaller when the sentence is longer, to hold in the page.
The idea of doing new paintings of Savitri is excellent.
With all my love always
On 28th January 1968 the Mother named the new work:
I may indicate how we proceeded. The Mother read out the passages from Savitri, and then, after a deep contemplation, gave her comments which I tape-recorded and later transcribed. Afterwards she saw and corrected my transcriptions.
Here I remember the day of Tuesday 11th June 1968: after the Mother's recitation and explanation, she remained mostly in trance. Then in a meditative mood she said:
I see many things one after another, but I cannot grasp, because they are passing, passing—so I cannot explain them to you all at a time.
You see, I started seeing things when I was 81 years of age!
Ah, but I can go anywhere in this body—you have seen it by yourself how I go. I go to the highest and deepest [gesture pointing with her finger first up and then down] in this body. Child, you can also go anywhere you like.
The Mother advised me how I should write the passages from Savitri:
This pen I sent you is not Indian made. It comes from Japan. If you want to write for me it must be with this
size felt and this size letters:
Savitri
I wrote to the Mother:
You can write on both sides - it is all right. Love
Here I used to write the verses from Savitri for the Mother to read and recite.
In this cupboard the written manuscripts were kept.
During the Mother's recitations I passed on to her sheet after sheet. I took them back when she had finished. I had to look into the book to see whether the verses were recited without missing any word. At the same time I had to watch the two flickering green lights of the tape-recorder lest they should touch each other and her voice crack on the tape. All the time I had to be alert, careful. Also I fanned her with a Japanese hand-fan, since all the windows were to be closed because of the outside noise. She never liked the ceiling-fan or the table-fan.
After the recitations the Mother went into a profound meditation for half an hour or sometimes even more. I had to be vigilant—I never knew when she would open her eyes and start giving her comments. As a matter of fact, I too felt like entering into a trance because of some unknown pressure and the heavenly atmosphere. I could hardly keep my eyes open.
Thus I had to do these jobs all at a time and all alone. If I had not kept patience, perseverance, presence of mind and peace in my heart, I could never have continued working with the Mother. Moreover, her vibrations were so powerful, so intense that it was difficult to remain with her for more than two hours, because here she showed me her true divinity. Besides, she invoked Sri Aurobindo's Presence. The Mother gave me a very good training both physically and mentally.
Regarding the ceiling-fan the Mother said:
I do not like it. You see, when Sri Aurobindo and I used to give "Darshan" in the small room, there hung above us a long fan made out of cloth. It was suspended from a rod held in the centre by a rope whose upper end was fixed in the ceiling.
A person pulled the string attached to the cloth-fan and as the fan swayed a pleasant breeze was felt. This is not an artificial elaborate mechanical thing but simple and satisfactory.
Days passed. One day the Mother confirmed:
Now I have caught the exact thing regarding the work—now I know what Sri Aurobindo wants me to do.
On another occasion she said:
You see, Savitri is very good for me also, because while I read and recite, I do not think at all. I am only inspired. I need this experience.
Ah, Mother, you don't need anything, because you are the Divine, aren't you?
She laughed softly and stated:
Yes, that I am, but this is physical [pointing out her body]. And there is the physical world and it must be perfected. In fact, nothing is enough for me.
Then on the following session of our Savitri work she revealed:
The work is really very good. I like it. When I concentrate and go back to the Origin of the Creation, I see things as a whole in their reality and then I speak.
You see, each time when I speak, Sri Aurobindo comes here, and I speak exactly what He wants me to speak. It is the inner hidden truth of Savitri that He wants me to reveal.
Each time He comes, a wonderful atmosphere is created .I have read Savitri before but it was nothing compared to this reading!
From 1969 to 1971 the Mother and I worked on About Savitri in her living room as shown in this print.
Sometimes the Mother succumbed to ill health. Thus our Savitri work suffered. Here I recall one of her letters that she wrote me on 17th September 1968:
17.9.68
I never intended to stop the Savitri work but to do it, as I told you, I must recover my normal sight and voice, and I am waiting for it. As soon as it is possible I shall let you know.
The plastic folders are quite all right.
The Mother and I did the work of About Savitri up to the middle of Book One, Canto 4, which could not be completed.
Here I cannot resist expressing her wonderful comments and my vision in this regard.
On 21st March 1969 after our Savitri work, the Mother said:
Child, do you know, from the beginning of this year the New Consciousness has been coming down upon earth, which tells everything—what to do and what not to do—to people who are conscious and want to change.
This Consciousness is gradually and gently organising everything.
When you are withdrawn quietly and silently, and listen to it, it will tell you what you should do and what you should not.
This Consciousness does not do anything violently and forcibly but gently and gradually. It does not work only in the mind and the vital being but also in the body. It takes great care of the body and everything else.
I am putting this Consciousness around you. You will see and feel it. It will tell you everything.
It is always smiling—it never gets angry, it never scolds but is very gentle and very sweet, you'll see!
The Mother always kept her promise. I became more and more aware of the New Consciousness and its action.
The Mother's own message of 1st April 1969 to all in connection with the talk she gave me runs:
Since the beginning of this year a New Consciousness is at work upon earth to prepare men for a New Creation, the Superman. For this creation to be possible the substance that constitutes man's body must undergo a big change, it must become more receptive to the Consciousness and more plastic under its working.
These are just the qualities that one can acquire through physical education.
So, if we follow this discipline with such a result in view, we are sure to obtain the most interesting result.
My blessings to all, for progress and achievement.
The Mother saw me on 26th December 1969. She recited only one passage, because it was very long. The passage recounts an experience of Aswapathy, the Yogi-King, father of Savitri.
A glimpse was caught of things forever unknown; The letters stood out of the unmoving Word. ||8.18|| In the immutable nameless Origin Was seen emerging as from fathomless seas The trail of the Ideas that made the world, And, sown in the black earth of Nature's trance, The seed of the Spirit's blind and huge desire From which the tree of cosmos was conceived And spread its magic arms through a dream of space. ||8.19|| Immense realities took on a shape: There looked out from the shadow of the Unknown The bodiless Namelessness that saw God born And tries to gain from the mortals mind and soul A deathless body and a divine name. ||8.20|| The immobile lips, the great surreal wings, The visage masked by superconscient Sleep, The eyes with their closed lids that see all things, Appeared of the Architect who builds in trance. ||8.21|| The original Desire born in the Void Peered out; he saw the hope that never sleeps, The feet that run behind a fleeting fate, The ineffable meaning of the endless dream. ||8.22|| As if a torch held by a power of God, The radiant world of the everlasting Truth Glimmered like a faint star bordering the night Above the golden Overmind's shimmering ridge. ||8.23|| Even were caught as through a cunning veil The smile of love that sanctions the long game, The calm indulgence and maternal breasts Of Wisdom suckling the child-laughter of Chance, Silence the nurse of the Almighty's power, The omniscient hush, womb of the immortal Word, And of the Timeless the still brooding face, And the creative eye of Eternity. ||8.24||
The Mother's comment ran:
All these images are meant to break the ordinary receptivity of mind and to open it to the conception—vaster; truer; creative of the Supramental.
It is only in a receptive silence—when the whole inquisitive mind stops moving—that one can feel and understand the images described in these verses.
After our Savitri work the Mother read my prayer and on the same sheet of paper she inscribed these promising words:
It will be realised by the Supreme's Power and Love
That night I had a wonderful vision.
I went out of my body. My subtle body was now soaring up and up in an enormous space. There were the moon and stars. The atmosphere was very light, cool and soothing. I felt free like a bird. I did not realise how far I went up but now I could not see the moon and stars. I was beyond the heavenly bodies.
There was endless space before me. Suddenly I saw something shining from the far horizon. I headed towards the glow. Now I was not soaring up vertically but my movement was as if I were swimming into a vast space. I was coming closer and closer to my destination. My first glance fell on two huge Suns. The one on the right was golden yellow and the other on the left was golden red. Their edges were touching and mingling with each other. I came still closer by crossing an immense lake which was packed with diamond-like lotuses and emerald leaves. The reflection of the two Suns added glory to the breathtaking beauty of the marvellous scene which was spread out like a panorama before my eyes.
I was now floating a little above the lake. Its coolness enveloped my subtle body. Here the Divine Mother had strewn lavishly her exquisite Beauty and Wonder and Quietude. The divine vibrations were overwhelming. I was engulfed by the new consciousness.
I reached the Suns. Their Force and Power were absolutely still and calm. Then I saw a narrow passage between the two Suns. I entered it, and on the other side I saw a golden world. There was nothing there except golden Light. I landed slowly on the divine soil, but to my surprise I was a little above the ground. I could not set my feet there. I was not walking but floating in this enchanting atmosphere. I came across a few luminous beings who were active, but their activities were without any sound. Everything was heavenly. There I felt the perfect Consciousness, Harmony, Peace, Beauty and Silence. I was simply bathed in the golden Light, in the soothing vibrations of a quiet joy and happiness.
I roamed here and there freely, and silently communicated with the beings. Nothing was new to me because I identified myself completely with this magnificent World of Golden Light.
I was reluctant to come back to the dark world of falsehood. But alas, the next morning I saw myself lying in my bed. I felt extremely sorry and lost, and shed a few silent tears.
Also my memory flew back to one of the Mother's letters of the preceding year, when I had expressed to her my wish to go back to my own world of Beauty and Peace. She wrote:
I am leading you to a place much more beautiful than the one from which you came—a place of full and harmonious Consciousness...
I felt strongly that my vision of the Golden World was a glimpse which the Mother had given me, and that actually she had taken my consciousness there. But according to our human nature, I thought that the vision might be some kind of mental formation by myself; it could be simply a dream. I wrote to the
Mother in order to make sure, because what I had seen had the look of a living thing, which I can never forget. She answered:
Happily, the true worlds and the true Consciousness are not a dream, but the only real Reality for those who are sincere and conscious.
Bonne Annee for 1970
with all my love and blessings
Then I did the painting of my vision and showed it to the Mother. She said.
It is very impressive.
This painting appeared along with the verses and the Mother's comments in the book About Savitri, Part Three.
When the Mother's voice was all right, she could work on Savitri. The Mother and I loved our work immensely. But unfortunately most of our time was taken away by other people and visitors, so there was not enough time for this heart¬warming work. I felt it was a great loss for the whole of humanity. In whatever time that remained, the Mother and I used to meditate.
She recited the passage eighteenth of Book One, Canto 4 on 31st July 1970:
A consciousness that knows not its own truth, A vagrant hunter of misleading dawns, Between the being's dark and luminous ends Moves here in a half-light that seems the whole; An interregnum in Reality Cuts off the integral Thought, the total Power; It circles or stands in a vague interspace, Doubtful of its beginning and its close, Or runs upon a road that has no end; Far from the original Dusk, the final Flame In some huge void Inconscience it lives, Like a thought persisting in a wide emptiness. ||12.1|| As if an unintelligible phrase Suggested a million renderings to the Mind, It lends a purport to the random world. ||12.2|| A conjecture leaning upon doubtful proofs, A message misunderstood, a thought confused Missing its aim is all that it can speak Or a fragment of the universal word. ||12.3|| It leaves two giant letters void of sense While without sanction turns the middle sign Carrying an enigmatic universe, As if a present without future or past Repeating the same revolution's whirl Turned on its axis in its own Inane. ||12.4||
Her comments ran:
This is the world as it seems to the eyes of an ignorant vanity that lives without knowing, sees without understanding and is cut off from its Origin. The why of all this is hidden, and unless it is discovered and lived consciously, life will always be an incoherent horror.
But we are here to discover, to know and to live, and we can bear the horror with the certitude that the Light, the Knowledge and the Purpose will be one day manifested.
With patience and firmness and quiet assurance we must go on, we must endure and we must realise.
This was her last explanation. Here our work on About Savitri came to an end. She signed my files in which I had transcribed her comments.
I also gave her the tapes of her recitations of Savitri and her comments and the files of the typed scripts regarding the work of About Savitri. She refused to accept them and told me firmly:
I will not keep them here. You will keep them with you—they are yours—you are in charge of them. I am giving them to you with my blessings.
On 26th February 1971 the Mother heard her own organ music along with her recitations. She liked it very much and fully approved of it to be used as an accompaniment throughout the slide shows. The Mother had given these names to her music:
Mystic Solitude, Quiet Power, Joy, Compassion of the Divine, Life in Eternity, Construction of the Future.
As for Sunil's Savitri music, the Mother arranged for it to be played in the Playground during the meditations on Thursdays and Sundays. In this connection she gave me a special blessings packet for Sunil. He was very pleased.
The Mother wished slides to be made of the Meditations on Savitri paintings, so that they could be shown at the Ashram theatre as part of the celebrations during Sri Aurobindo's Centenary Year, 1972.
I wrote to the Mother regarding the Savitri slides.
During that time I wrote a letter to the Mother concerning the slides of the Savitri paintings.
24.3.1971
Here is Richard's letter regarding the music and the slides.
We truly appreciate his feeling but here are two things which I wish to make clear.
You have already heard Your organ-music and Your recitations and asked me to carry on with the final recording. So there is no need to change anything because Your music is only meant for the background music which is going to play throughout your recitations. The important thing is Your recitations. Arun and I are recording exactly according to them.
In this letter of his, Richard wishes to insert photographs and the paintings of other artists along with Savitri paintings while projecting the Savitri slides. I feel that if he is allowed to do so, then the truth behind the Savitri paintings will be distorted and then it will become very cheap and meaningless. And Your Force and Power will not be there any more.
I pray to You to consider these two points and kindly answer to Richard if You please.
Your child, Huta
She responded:
It is what we have arranged together that must be done—No intrusion of anything else.
Here is the Mother's answer to Richard Eggenberger's letter:
Concerning Savitri nothing of all this useless fancy must be done. I have said to Huta what must be done. It is that or nothing. I do not doubt the interest of your experience but do not mix it up with Savitri: give up or leave it separately.
The Mother stated in one of her writings:
All fancies are vital movements and most undesirable.
Liberty does not mean to follow one's desires but on the contrary to be free from them.
Richard Eggenberger completed his work on 27th September 1971. The Mother was very happy.
The Mother wished to know the exact date and time for showing in the Ashram theatre the slides of the Meditations on Savitri paintings along with her own organ music and her recitations, recorded by me, of Savitri passages which corresponded with the paintings, so that she would put her special Force and Light during the programme. The first show was on Friday, 25th February 1972 at 8.30 pm. On 21st July 1972 was the last one. People enjoyed the shows. The Mother did not want me to attend the shows. I obeyed her.
During the year 1972 the Mother advised me:
Child, if you want to remain happy and peaceful in the Ashram, do three things: do not hear, do not speak and do not see.
This she showed me with gestures.
In 1972 she instructed me to do her last vision of the "physical mind". I painted it. The description of her vision has appeared in the Bulletin August issue 1972.
It was 29th March 1972. I offered to the Mother twelve copies of About Savitri Part One consisting of Book One, Canto 1. The Mother's message for the book was:
Savitri The supreme revelation of Sri Aurobindo's vision
She gave me a copy and wrote on it:
To Huta with love and appreciation blessings
The Mother completed the recitations from the whole of Savitri corresponding to the Meditations on Savitri paintings towards the end of 1967.
Gradually I gave to Sunil copies of all the recordings of the Mother's recitations, so that he could compose the Savitri music, according to the Mother's wish. Sunil told me:
Huta, now I will have to read the whole of Savitri in order to understand the epic and then compose the music. According to the Divine's inspiration, you know, it was my aspiration to compose Savitri music. If you would not have recorded the Mother's recitations and given me the tapes I could not have composed the music. And your tape-recording is very nice—like a professional one.
I replied:
Sunil, I am honoured! You are very kind and appreciative. You see, everything is decided and arranged by the Supreme Lord. We are his instruments. I am fortunate and very happy to be one.
On 5th May 1972 at 10.40 am the Mother heard the first part of the recitation. Unfortunately the sound was not up to the mark and the background music was loud. Later I came to know that the amplifier was not in order. Nevertheless, the Mother said:
It is very good, it is all right. You have done better than I expected.
She encouraged me, but I was not satisfied.
Once again on 12th May the Mother heard the second part of the recitation. She remarked:
It is very good. You have progressed
In answer to my letter the Mother wrote on 16th December 1967:
I knew that you had no more work for me on the 20th but it is not reason not to see you—on the contrary. We can have a little time quiet. If you have something to say, I shall listen—and if I have something to say I shall speak.
It is not because of the work that I was seeing you, but because of yourself, to help you to reach your goal as soon as it is possible for you to reach it.
With love and blessings always
During that time Ned Solina was in charge of the Savitri paintings in Golconde according to the Mother's wish. He wanted to exhibit some paintings. So this notice was issued with the Mother's approval:
Meanwhile, Jayantilal wanted the Mother to choose 100 paintings of Savitri, so that they could be printed on the occasion of the Birth Centenary of Sri Aurobindo in 1972. The Mother was not pleased. Then he got Balkrishna Poddar to write to the Mother in this regard. She answered firmly:
Time has not come for printing Savitri paintings.
Once again Jayantilal tried in this connection. The Mother totally disagreed with the idea.
Later she told me:
I want the whole of the Savitri paintings to be printed in sequence.
Once more Jayantilal requested the Mother to select some of her Savitri sketches and allow them to be printed. She laughed merrily and said:
Ah, you see, when good food is served we must not tell people how it was cooked. Similarly we must not print the sketches and disclose the secret of how the paintings were done. People must find that out by themselves.
The Mother told me on 4th May 1965:
The Supreme Power has the Supreme Humility. The Supreme does not boast, because He is All-Powerful and everything.
Neel apprised the Mother about the two rooms in Golconde given by her.
8th. January 1968.
Beloved Mother,
Yesterday, Mona was asking me if it would be possible for me to allow her, during the coming February Darshan, to arrange to have some of her visitors staying in Golconde to sleep in the room where the "Savitri" Paintings are stored and exhibited.
Mother, although the idea does not please me at all to have anybody sleeping in a room which has such a beautiful atmosphere, I told her to ask the Mother. I even ventured to tell her I was sure that Mother too would not approve of the idea. But instead Mona has asked me to inform you of this, so I write.
I have not uttered a word about this to Huta, because I know the very idea would completely upset her. And then???
Will Mother enlighten me, what should be done?
Salutations of your child, Neel
It is quite impossible to let people sleep in that place. Blessings
The Mother taught me how to preserve the Savitri paintings. She herself designed the big wooden cupboards with mesh and with numerous grooves so that each painting could be placed separately without any wrapper. She asked me to get curtains made—out of hand-woven cloth—so that air circulated around evenly. Besides, she indicated to me how the picture-varnish was to be applied on the painted boards:
Apply with a good soft brush a thin layer of varnish on boards—vertically and horizontally. The layers must be even, otherwise it will form bubbles and that is harmful for the paintings. Do everything slowly.
After the application, leave the paintings in the open for some time. Then put them in the cupboards.
When I asked the Mother about making a movie of the Savitri paintings, she held my right hand, shook it with a broad smile and said enthusiastically:
Yes, my child, we shall collaborate!
Years passed. I was wondering about the movie.
Now at last it seemed that the time had come to get the movie of the Savitri paintings made. On 6th February 1973 it was decided by the Mother that the movie would be made by Michel Klostermann of Germany. When he was in charge of film production in Auroville, the Mother gave the name "Filmaur" for his project. The Mother gave Michel and me beautiful leather-bound folders with Sri Aurobindo's and her own photographs.
She wanted her own organ-music to be played as a background during her recitations of the Savitri passages corresponding to the paintings. She also wished that the movie should be full of liveliness, vibrations and vividness.
On 19th May 1973 I wrote a letter to the Mother.
My dearest Mother
Michel has already started to make the movie of the Savitri paintings with your blessings. According to your instructions he will surely give to the paintings vividness, vibrations and liveliness while filming.
Your own organ-music and your recitations of Savitri passages will have stereophonic sound which will give a superb effect to the movie: Meditations on Savitri.
I pray you to make everything possible and done by your Force and Grace. Victory to the Supreme!
With love and kisses
Yours ever, Huta
She sent blessings packets through M. André.
I gave my introduction in the Savitri movie—Meditations on Savitri, thus:
Savitri is Sri Aurobindo's great epic poem. He says in one of his letters: "Savitri is the record of a seeing, of an experience which is not of the common kind and it is often very far from what the general human mind sees and experiences."
The work of illustrating the whole of Savitri through paintings was given to me by the Divine Mother. It was so great, so beyond the capacity of the little instrument she had summoned that only her Grace working in Sri Aurobindo's Light could have seen me through.
As a matter of fact, when I began I did not know how to draw a straight line or how to hold brushes—nor did I have any colour sense. It is the Divine Mother who taught me painting and truly led me to the highest artistic consciousness.
I remember two of her letters which she wrote to me before we actually started our work of expressing through paintings the visions of Savitri. In the first one she wrote: "We shall collaborate to do nice things and express in painting a higher world and consciousness." And in the second letter she said: "We are going towards a painting that will be able to express the Supramental Truth of things."
Now the work is over and I am ever grateful to the Divine Mother and Sri Aurobindo for making me their instrument.
"All can be done if the God-touch is there." This is what Sri Aurobindo has written in Savitri and how true it is!
I am happy—really happy—to share this splendid gift with everybody in the Mother's Consciousness, Truth and Love.
Huta
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