The Story of a Soul

Author’s Note

The Mother first asked me to write this book in 1957. At that time I told her that I was not prepared, and had insufficient command of English. But she persisted.

At last on the morning of May 9, 1969 I handed her the notebook in which I intended to begin The Story of a Soul. She wrote "Blessings" on it and gave it back to me. Then a moment or two later she said, "Give that book to me." When I did so, after a brief concentration she inserted a special blessing-packet into it. Then with a smile she took my hands in hers and affirmed:

My inspiration will come to you, from above or from within, or from both. I give you the power of expression.

Shortly afterwards she went into a deep trance for more than fifteen minutes. On emerging she assured me,

Child, everything will be all right.

So in telling this story I trusted throughout in the Mother's inspiration, and was also aware of Sri Aurobindo's Presence and help.

Indeed it was very interesting to go back to the origin and observe the development of the consciousness. Each of the Mother's letters and talks revealed numberless unknown things in a new light. I enjoyed this work thoroughly.

On 31st October 1969 I showed the Mother the many notebooks containing the first rough handwritten draft of The Story, which I had completed. She asked me to read something from them. I wondered how to select a passage there were more than fifty thick notebooks. I found a passage from the first chapter. She listened to it so attentively that when I stopped reading I found her still indrawn. I resumed:

Does the Divine exist in this world of falsehood? Is there any truth here? If not, then what am I living for? If my aspiration is true and sincere, then reveal that Truth to me, O Lord.

Instantly the Mother opened her eyes and exclaimed,

But child, now you have found it, you are here!

I smiled and answered,

Yes, Mother, but this is how the Story begins.

She nodded. I told her that now I would have to type everything that was written in all those notebooks, and she remarked,

Oh! It is a big work.

Then she touched each of the books, in order to surcharge The Story with her Force.

The Story of a Soul runs from 1954 to 1973 and is divided into several volumes. This first one covers the time up to the end of 1955.

The most valuable feature of it is all that has come from the hand of the Mother herself. First there are her letters. With the most humble gratitude I may record what she has said to me:

You are the only person in the world to whom I have written so many letters.

Then there are her talks. She saw my reports of these conversations and made corrections wherever necessary. She spoke mainly about spirituality and art, but also touched on various other subjects relating to many spheres of life.

There are facsimiles of many of her letters, comments and messages to me. A few of these appear in the present volume.

In addition The Story of a Soul contains extracts from my spiritual diaries, in which day-to-day experiences, aspirations, prayers, visions and dreams are recorded. The Mother encouraged me to write these diaries, in books which she sent me each year with her blessings. The extracts given here were seen, corrected and blessed by the Mother. In them, my constant turning to her for help and guidance is expressed. The impact intended is of realities directly experienced.

I have been quite frank about my weaknesses, defects, difficulties and struggles, my revolts against the Truth, and the dreadful attacks of the hostile forces; and I have told how the Mother's Grace and Love saved me miraculously in spite of severe ordeals, tremendous falls and even catastrophes. The story also shows how the Mother shapes and develops our consciousness.

And of course, her living Presence has been there all the time to see her child through and guide it towards the Supreme Goal. I would like to quote Sri Aurobindo:

This is how God in His love teaches the child soul and the weakling, taking them step by step and witholding the vision of His ultimate and yet unattainable mountain-tops. And have we not all some weakness? Are we not all in His sight but as little children?

In my narrative it will be observed how the characters I have encountered during my life were only instruments of various forces that came to help or hinder my progress. No personal significance needs to be attached to them, as most human beings are unconscious instruments of World-Forces. It must also be remembered that things said at one time about people—however true they may have been then —may not hold for all time. There are different circumstances as life goes on and what may emerge from temporary confrontations or clashes are not necessarily eternal facts. It is always possible for people to change in consciousness.

The Mother's letters and talks will be found to indicate what would take place in my inner and outer life in the future. All that she has said is coming true gradually—not only about my future, but about the future of the whole world, which she has visioned and willed.

Whenever anything from the writings of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother has struck me as particularly illuminating the occasions and events with which I have dealt, I have quoted it. The Mother often used to refer me to her own works as well as to Sri Aurobindo's in order to enlighten me in connection with her letters and talks to me and my inner and outer state.

I have also drawn upon other writers whenever they appealed to me and seemed relevant.

Since an outline of it was published as a serial in Mother India: a monthly review of culture, The Story has been recast at several places, and almost rewritten in some. I felt as if I were painting it, and applying a variety of colours to make it truer, richer and more vivid. And I am thankful to my friends and well-wishers for their goodwill and collaboration in the Divine's Work.

When the first version of The Story of a Soul was read out to the Mother on October 5, 1972 by her son Monsieur Andre, she wrote and sent to me through him a message which conveys everything.

This is the interesting story of how a being discovers the Divine Life.

Nolini Kanta Gupta, the Mother's personal secretary went through the script and spontaneously wrote of it:

It is a beautiful book well-written, elevating, illuminating, inspring. To read the book is to come closer to the Mother into her arms.

On receiving these wonderful words I asked Nolini-da if I could take them in The Story of a Soul. He said that I certainly could if the Mother consented.

The Mother saw this note received from Nolini-da and gave permission for it to be included in this book.

From the way one soul has been guided, all can learn and be benefitted on the long universal road towards the Divine Life, Light, Love and Truth.

I am profoundly grateful to the Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Huta

नैनं छिन्दन्ति शस्त्राणि
नैनं दहति पावकः ।
न चैने क्लेदयन्त्यापो
न शोषयति मारुतः ।।

अच्छेद्योऽयमदाह्योऽयम्‌
अक्लेद्योऽशोष्य एव च ।
नित्यः सर्वगतः स्थाणुर्‌
अचलोऽयं सनातनः ।।

--श्रीभगवद्गीता २/२३, २४

"Weapons cannot cleave it, nor the fire burn, nor do the waters drench it, nor the wind dry."

Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita: The Creed of the Aryan Fighter

"It is uncleavable and incombustible, it can neither be drenched nor dried. Eternal, all-pervading, stable and immobile, it is for ever and for ever."

Sri Aurobindo, Essays on the Gita: The Creed of the Aryan Fighter

(Translated by Sri Aurobindo)

Introduction

ON the evening of July 25, 1954 a few disciples of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother came to our estate in Miwani (Kenya). We assembled for readings, prayers and meditation. Among the passages read were the following verses from Sri Aurobindo's mystic epic Savitri:

I will pour delight from thee as from a jar,
I will whirl thee as my chariot through the ways,
I will use thee as my sword and as my lyre,
I will play on thee my minstrelsies of thought. ||154.37||
And when thou art vibrant with all ecstasy,
And when thou liv’st one spirit with all things,
Then will I spare thee not my living fires,
But make thee a channel for my timeless force. ||154.38||
My hidden presence led thee unknowing on
From thy beginning in earth’s voiceless bosom
Through life and pain and time and will and death,
Through outer shocks and inner silences
Along the mystic roads of Space and Time
To the experience which all Nature hides. ||154.39||
Who hunts and seizes me, my captive grows:
This shalt thou henceforth learn from thy heart-beats. ||154.40||
For ever love, O beautiful slave of God! ||154.41||
O lasso of my rapture’s widening noose,
Become my cord of universal love. ||154.42||

These lines went on echoing and re-echoing in my heart. I fell in love with Savitri, the incarnation of the Supreme Mother. I was so fascinated that I felt the Divine Mother herself was reciting the lines to me.

Cascades of divine light and peace seemed to be falling all around me. It was as if my soul surged out of its body and floated in this magnificent atmosphere. That night I determined to relinquish ordinary life and embrace the Divine Life.

Ever since my childhood I had been aspiring to realise and live the Supreme Truth and Love. In the past no one had understood this feeling of mine, and now nobody knew of my final decision.

I had always felt like a stranger in a dark ambiguous world, searching for the One who would lead me to my divine goal.

I had met many saints, sadhus and sannyasis, I had read many religious books, including several on the Vaishnava denomination to which my family belonged; but my soul had refused to accept any leader or doctrine. I found that people believed in words: to talk about religion was enough. For them, performing complex rituals meant being religious—then they thought they had done their duty. But I felt that true religion meant spirituality: the soul's aspiration and cry to unite the whole being with the Supreme Lord, and to be THAT.

Undated?

In the early part of my life I used to move back and forth often between East Africa and India. Although my family lived in Africa, I felt a strong pull towards India. In my early teens I took a vow not to eat sweets until India became Independent.

I was in Rajkot in India on January 30th 1948, when Mahatma Gandhi was shot dead at Birla House in Delhi. His untimely demise shook the whole nation.

Gandhi's relics were taken all over India. Some were brought to Rajkot also and placed at Rashtriashala, which was very close to my mother's home, Zaver-Nivas. People paid their last homage, and then the relics were carried to be submerged in the river Aji. School children, college students and numberless people participated in the huge procession, walking barefoot to the river, which was quite a distance away, clapping their hands and singing:

Raghupati Raghava Raja Ram,
Patita Pavana Sita Ram.

I went along with my fellow-students. We had to pass through a long bazaar street to reach the river. We were very thirsty, and our bare feet were scorched in the heat. Every shopkeeper kept earthen pots of water out on the pavement to give to the passers-by.

I was regretting being so reckless and not heeding my mother, who had insisted I should wear sandals—never in my life had I gone out without anything on my feet, and now they were blistered and aching terribly.

From the riverbank we watched the ceremony being performed. Multicoloured flowers were strewn on the water and formed attractive patterns. Then we were allowed to go home—not in procession, but as we liked. I was exhausted. So my friend and I stopped on the way, at the home of some relatives of hers. We were given comfortable seats and cold water to drink. My glance fell on a photograph depicting a half-burnt candle on a stand, wax dripping down its sides. Beneath the picture was written in Gujarati:

Like a candle life is running short. Make it sublime by doing good deeds.

These words touched my heart to the very core, and my inner self whispered,

Just as a candle burns up and gutters out, so also your life dwindles until nothing is left. And all too soon this diminution takes place. You must do something worthwhile before the end overtakes you. May you wake up in time and remember what your life is for—the ascent towards the high ideal, the Divine.

I found that tears were rushing to my eyes. My friend and the others asked me the reason. I said,

Look at this picture of the candle—life is too short to waste, we must make our lives valuable.

They all agreed with me.

This was the first awakening of my soul—my first initiation. The truth I glimpsed at that moment was etched deeply into my consciousness.

The second initiation I received was from a Brahmin priest—Maikalapi of Maimandir, which stood a short distance from our house. He was a devotee of Mother Durga, and closely connected with the Ambaji temple at Abu.

At a later time Maikalapi confided in his son Maimayur that I was quite different from most people and would not lead an ordinary life.

On one of the Puja days Maikalapi was in profound meditation. Everyone there bowed down to him. When I approached, with half-closed eyes he stretched out his right hand, took red powder from a nearby silver stand, and with his third finger applied it to my forehead.

This seemed to signify that I was destined to lead the spiritual life. And indeed this was what I wanted. But how? I could see no way, and had almost lost all hope. My heart cried desperately, "Does the Divine exist in this world of falsehood? Is there any truth here? If not, then what am I living for? If my aspiration is true and sincere, then reveal that Truth to me, O Lord."

After I had passed my matriculation examinations I returned to East Africa. I wanted to study philosophy and art, and filled in the application form for St. Xavier's College, Bombay.

But this plan was turned down—my people wished me to get married. I was adamant that I did not want that kind of life, which I believed was hopeless and in vain. But they insisted, against my ideals.

A mysterious indication came to me from within, so I declared that my destiny was to be in India—I refused to get married in Africa, although there were many good proposals.

In the meantime I visited England and Europe in 1952 with my fourth brother Maganbhai and his wife Mina.

From Nairobi we went first to Cairo. A faint sense of familiarity lingered in my consciousness when I glimpsed the Pyramids.

Then we flew to Paris, and stayed there for three or four pleasurable days before crossing the Channel. We reached London on the "Golden Arrow" train. We were there for a fortnight, during which my brother bought a Morris Minor; then we again boarded a ferryboat and headed for the Continent.

We visited a number of famous and interesting places. In Rome, some sense of its ancient past hovered in the back of my mind, a glimmer of remembrance, especially when I saw the Colosseum and the Catacombs, those underground tunnels used in early Christian times for burials and religious services, which had to be kept secret because of persecution. St. Peter's, with its magnificent frescoes by Michelangelo, deeply impressed me.

Indeed it was very intriguing to experience the reminders of so much past history.

In Verona we were shown the tombs of Romeo and Juliet, in the old church of a former Franciscan convent—the place was candlelit and eerie and one could imagine two spirits hovering restlessly in the gloom. I recall Juliet's last words:

Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief O happy dagger!
That is thy sheath; there rest and let me die.

This was a tale of human life fed on blind, wild desires and impulses. I felt again I would rather give my life to the Supreme Lord than to any human being.

It was a joy travelling extensively in Europe for more than a month. Then we returned to London, and stayed there almost three months.

I did not meet the Mother of Sri Aurobindo Ashram until the end of 1954. Yet even before that, something within and above was guiding me towards my destination:

The unfelt Self within who is the guide,
The unknown Self above who is the goal. ||47.8||

I used to write prayers in my diary in Gujarati, addressing them to the Mother. Much later I translated these into English. They have been published in book-form under the title Salutations. That little book is the background to this Story of a Soul. Here is an example of how I expressed my feelings in those prayers.

30 June 1954

Miwani

Divinest Dearest Mother,

From day to day the draw towards You is constant. Today I asked myself: when shall I put my head in Your lap and renew my agelong relation with You, dispel my sorrows and confusions of years and dedicate my whole life to You?

The inner voice replied, "All this shall surely be."

Tonight, unlike as on other days, I sat in meditation at about seven, and my prayers were: "Dear compassionate Sweet Mother, I salute You. Today—right now, I remember You. May Your Grace manifest and let nothing happen except what You wish for me. Lead me to the true path—from darkness to the Light."

And at once, although there was no sign at all of rain, I saw a lightning flash and heard a roar of thunder.

You have heard my prayers and granted them.

At that period too a lady gave me the address of Sri Krishna Prem—Ronald Nixon. Although I did not know him, I wrote him a letter, expressing my aspiration to lead the spiritual life wherever the Supreme Lord willed. This was his answer:

Srimati Savita Devi

Jay Sri Krishna,

I received your letter a day or two ago. I am glad to hear that you are a worshipper of Sri Krishna. That is the best thing that any of us can be, the one thing that, in the end, no one will have cause to regret. All else changes and passes away: He alone stands the same forever. May His blessings be with you and guide you to His feet. I enclose His (charn-tulshi).

With all blessings,
Yours sincerely
Sri Krishna Prem

Sri Aurobindo's very close disciple Dilip Kumar Roy has written in his book Yogi Sri Krishna Prem:

In discussing philosophical and spiritual matters, Krishna Prem has a way of going straight to the very heart of a problem. He always speaks from the depths of his personal realization. For him bhakti is not emotional rapture as such, but self-giving to Krishna, which is naturally accompanied by emotional rapture. It is "the offering of the mortal (ahuti) in the pure flame of the immortal." Such self-offering must be, he agrees with Sri Aurobindo, total and unconditional. It involves "the staking of everything that does not matter for the one thing that does." It is the complete replacement of the ego by Krishna's Will.

Also during this time in Africa—from April to September 1954—Dyuman, a senior sadhak of Sri Aurobindo Ashram and one of the Mother's attendants, sent me two messages along with blessing-packets from the Mother. The message of August 15th 1954 stirred my whole being:

The Hour of God

There are moments when the Spirit moves among men and the breath of the Lord is abroad upon the waters of our being; there are others when it retires and men are left to act in the strength or the weakness of their own egoism. The first are periods when even a little effort produces great results and changes destiny; the second are spaces of time when much labour goes to the making of a little result. It is true that the latter may prepare the former, may be the little smoke of sacrifice going up to heaven which calls down the rain of God's bounty.

Unhappy is the man or the nation which, when the divine moment arrives, is found sleeping or unprepared to use it, because the lamp has not been kept trimmed for the welcome and the ears are sealed to the call. But thrice woe to them who are strong and ready, yet waste the force or misuse the moment; for them is irreparable loss or a great destruction.

In the hour of God cleanse thy soul of all self-deceit and hypocrisy and vain self-flattering that thou mayst look straight into thy spirit and hear that which summons it. All insincerity of nature, once thy defence against the eye of the Master and the light of the ideal, becomes now a gap in thy armour and invites the blow. Even if thou conquer for the moment, it is the worse for thee, for the blow shall come afterwards and cast thee down in the midst of thy triumph. But being pure cast aside all fear; for the hour is often terrible, a fire and a whirlwind and a tempest, a treading of the winepress of the wrath of God; but he who can stand up in it on the truth of his purpose is he who shall stand; even though he fall, he shall rise again; even though he seem to pass on the wings of the wind, he shall return. Nor let worldly prudence whisper too closely in thy ear; for it is the hour of the unexpected.

Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine and Human: The Hour of God

17 September 1954

The time was drawing near for me to leave Africa for India. I had not breathed a single word to anybody about my inner resolution. But on 17th September 1954 my mother told me a vision she had about me:

I dreamt that you have put on the jewels belonging to your father and a red sari, and you are preparing to vanish from the ordinary world. You are sitting cross-legged in full pomp. A deep pit is being dug for you. And all of us are trying to persuade you not to take this step. But now it is impossible to stop you.

Then suddenly I woke up and came to your bed: you were fast asleep. Seeing this I was relieved and went to the main door of the house. As soon as I opened it, I found your nephew Suresh standing there, with beautiful roses in his hands.

I laughed at her account. My poor mother did not know that I had made up my mind to stay near the Mother in the Ashram and lead the spiritual life—yet her dream was auspiciously significant. I prayed to the Divine to materialise it—was it not a prophecy of my future? My heart kept saying yes and yes.

27 September 1954

The last prayer in my diary is dated 27th September 1954:

Adored Beloved Mother,

Salutations to Your lotus feet.

Today—yes, today—I am writing with the tears of my heart and I am praying to you.

Yesterday my soul was so restless that I seemed to see the dangerous signs of coming moments. Still I forgot them all. But those of certain moments remained with me; what I heard from my people was really unbearable for me.

No doubt, all that You do for me is for my utmost good. Mother, am I not Yours?

Yes, the night too I spent in shedding tears. At that time a great and terrible fight was going on within me. It was the fight between gods and demons. Sighing my heart out I at last fell asleep. But what sweet consolation you gave me in my sleep!

"Dear child, once you are wrapped up in me, you will be free from all miseries."

You showed me face to face in my dream that I have plunged deep into the ocean of my soul. And when I felt there Your constant Presence, then I cried out, "O Mother."

But alas! again the same gloom and grief. You teach me wonderful lessons that I may no longer get entangled in any worldly things.

Now there is no place on earth where I can take refuge with a free heart and laugh with happiness. I request You, do listen to the call of a wounded heart! You will not disappoint me, will You?

Compassionate Mother, bring a marvellous transformation to my life so that I may forget my past, forget everyone. And fill this life of mine with Divine Love and Truth. I am waiting for that auspicious day.

Mother, will You be gracious now? I have been wandering and groping in the desert of time. Be my Oasis!

You have given me a woman's form on the earth; I have seen the whole play of the world. You have shown me the various colours of life and made me read their meanings.

Do You not know now my present way of living? I hardly know what to tell and what not to tell. But You know everything. And now at last I pray to You, "O Mother, make me forget the past, calm the adverse forces. Give wisdom to people and lead them all to the Divine alone. May Your great Will for all the races of the earth be fulfilled. May Your mighty Power be Victorious."

Mother, for all hope, joy, courage, enthusiasm, protection, Grace, Presence, Blessings and Love, I come to You. Accept me—and give me Salvation.

October 1954

The days went by with their ups and downs until at last I travelled from Africa to India, in October 1954.

My husband was in Bombay.

According to our narrow Indian custom, I had been compelled to get married. So I had been married in Bombay in December 1953, without any feeling or enthusiasm—marriage held no meaning for me. I shall say no more about it. There is really nothing to say except that I have not led a married life at all.

There was a marriage reception at Madhav-Baug. The first greetings I received were from Dayabhai Patel of Bombay and Shivabhai Amin of Africa. Both gave me blessing-packets from the Mother, for which I was joyously grateful.

I also remember receiving a telegram from the Mother in answer to one from my family.

Quite a number of notables attended the reception, including Mr. Morarji Desai who was the then Chief Minister of Maharashtra. I appreciated their good wishes, but nothing could compare with the Mother's blessings.

Undated?

We had come to know about the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in early 1953, when Ambalal B. Purani from the Ashram was in East Africa. He was inspired to visit our estate, where he met my family. One day while they were meditating together my mother had an extraordinary experience, which Purani related to the Mother and many other people when he returned to the Ashram.

At that time I was in Bombay with my brother Maganbhai and his wife, after our return from Europe. My mother joined us there on May 23rd.

My eldest brother Laljibhai wrote to us from Africa that we must all visit the Ashram. So my mother, my brother and his wife left for Pondicherry on Saturday June 13th, leaving me behind to take care of my brother's children, in a big apartment on Marine Drive—the necklace of Bombay. I was not happy about the arrangement, but could not help it.

They stayed in the Ashram three days, and then went on a tour of South India. The time passed slowly for me. At last they came back, early in the morning on June 23rd. The report they gave me about the Ashram did not satisfy me. My true self remained positive, sure of the final victory of my soul. But from the outer point of view I suffered and grieved greatly.

If I had accompanied my people to the Ashram, I would certainly not have returned, and would not have had to go through that tedious marriage ceremony in December 1953.

October 1954

In October 1954 I was in Bombay with my husband and his family. Each second was like a living death to me. I was in a golden cage, pining for escape: my soul fluttered, tormented, afflicted.

At that time Dyuman sent me three messages, together with the Mother's blessing-packets. All of them were answers to my state of consciousness; but the message of 'October 5th assuaged my soul:

Whatever the appearance we must bear,
Whatever our strong ills and present fate,
When nothing we can see but drift and bale,
A mighty Guidance leads us still through all. ||12.28||
After we have served this great divided world
God’s bliss and oneness are our inborn right. ||12.29||
A date is fixed in the calendar of the Unknown,
An anniversary of the Birth sublime:
Our soul shall justify its chequered walk,
All will come near that now is naught or far. ||12.30||

My husband and I were supposed to go to Calcutta. But suddenly the programme was changed. My longing to see the Mother was to be fulfilled at last. My soul was drenched in happiness.

01 November 1954

We reached Pondicherry on the morning of November 1st, 1954. It was a Monday. At the Ashram gate I asked somebody where I could find Dyuman. The person waiting for us was none other than Dyuman himself, whom I had known through correspondence. He took us to Golconde, a very striking structure made according to the Mother's own idea and plan. There we were received by Mona Pinto, an English lady who had been in charge of the building since its inception. Dyuman left us there, after instructing Maniben N. Patel, Mona's assistant, to take us to the main Ashram building, where the Mother would distribute a message.

We were given separate rooms. I took a quick shower and changed into a white silk sari. A thrilling sensation overtook me—I was to see the Mother, to whom I had been addressing the prayers in my diary, my Salutations.

When I entered the Ashram building, a huge wave of Peace engulfed me. There was a profusion of flowers of different kinds, shapes, colours and fragrances, beautiful bowers of creepers, and a small rockery with a tiny pond full of sweet small water-lilies. As I proceeded further, my eyes were drawn to more and more details. Many people clustered near the marble Samadhi of Sri Aurobindo. There was also a long line moving slowly and silently towards the Meditation Hall downstairs.

I went first to the Samadhi, in the middle of the courtyard. It was adorned with an abundance of flowers which gave the impression of a rich carpet with intricate multicoloured designs. Incense sticks diffused their scented aroma in the air. A huge tree spread like an umbrella over everything. I knelt before the Samadhi. As I rose, my eyes fell upon the touching and exalting inscription which is engraved there, in English on one side and in French on the other, a prayer from the Mother:

To Thee who hast been the material envelope of our Master, to Thee our infinite gratitude. Before Thee who hast done so much for us, who hast worked, struggled, suffered, hoped, endured so much, before Thee who hast willed all, attempted all, prepared, achieved all for us, before Thee we bow down and implore that we may never forget, even for a moment, all we owe to Thee.

Then slowly I walked forward in the line. As we turned to the left I had a first distant glimpse of the Mother: clad in a fine sari, she was Seated radiant in a high-backed carved chair inside the Meditation Hall. The whole place was superbly decorated. A sadhak was fanning the Mother with a peacock-feather fan. And she was handing each person a message with her blessings.

Step by step I approached her. My heart started beating a shade faster. The warmth of her emanating vibrations wrapped my whole being. As she handed me the message, a powerful spark of her divine touch left me completely lost in her luminous Presence: I forgot to look at her!

The message was from Sri Aurobindo, and was applicable to the de facto merger of Pondicherry with the Indian Union which took place that day:

A free and united India will be there and the Mother will gather around her her sons and weld them into a single national strength in the life of a great and unified people.

This message was on the back of the card. On the front was the date, 1 November 1954, above a picture of the Mother's symbol against a silvery-blue square. Beneath this were the words:

The spiritual flag of united India.

That day the Mother stated:

For us the 1st November has a deep significance. We have a flag which Sri Aurobindo called the Spiritual Flag of United India. Its square form, its colour and every detail of its design have a symbolic meaning. It was hoisted here on the 15th August 1947 when India became free. It will now be hoisted on the 1st November 1954 when these settlements get united with India and it will be hoisted in future whenever India recovers other parts of herself. United India has a special mission to fulfil in the world. Sri Aurobindo laid down his life for it and we are prepared to do the same.

I saw the Mother once again in the afternoon. She was in the Prosperity Room, giving scented leaves to all. Every first of the month she would go there to bless the Ashram residents to begin the new month. And in her presence they were given their monthly requirements.

This time I looked at her. Our eyes were locked in utter silence. It was as if our souls embraced. So deep, so intimate was our meeting that I realised instantly that here was the ONE I had been seeking since childhood, the ONE who could help me, that here was SHE who could release me from the dreadful confusion in which I had been struggling all those years. Then my inner being murmured, "Yes, this is the TRUTH and LOVE I have been seeking and aspiring for."

Her sparkling eyes and sweet smile captured my entire self.

Suffering was lost in her immortal smile. ||81.16||

Now my soul was at rest—it had finally found its home.

As might a soul fly like a hunted bird,
Escaping with tired wings from a world of storms,
And a quiet reach like a remembered breast,
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,
Feel her bright nature’s glorious ambiance,
And preen joy in her warmth and colour’s rule. ||3.36||

Later I asked Maniben about the leaves the Mother had given. She explained, "It is sweet marjoram ... the Mother has given them the significance, New Birth—birth to the true consciousness, that of the Divine Presence in us."

It was truly my new birth!

Dyuman introduced me to Chandanben C. Shah from Africa, who had settled in the Ashram with her husband and children. She acquainted me and my husband with several other families who were very kind to us.

Chandanben and I went to the Playground in the evening. There I saw men, women, girls, boys and small children standing group-wise. They wore shorts and shirts or vests—the shirts and vests were white but the shorts were of different colours; green, red, dark grey, white, navy blue according to the age-groups (A, B, C, D, E, etc.). Women and girls wore kitty caps to secure their long hair.

Sri Aurobindo and the Mother have put great stress on physical culture. Here are their words:

The Perfection of the body, as great a perfection as we can bring about by the means at our disposal, must be the ultimate aim of physical culture. Perfection is the true aim of all culture, the spiritual and psychic, the mental, the vital, and it must be the aim of our physical culture also.

Sri Aurobindo, Essays in Philosophy and Yoga: Perfection of the Body

Physical culture is the best way of developing the consciousness of the body, and the more the body is conscious, the more it is capable of receiving the divine forces that are at work to transform it and give birth to the new race.

The Mother, On Education: General Messages and Letters

The physical consciousness and physical being, the body itself, must reach a perfection in all that it is and does which now we can hardly conceive. It may even in the end be suffused with a light and beauty and bliss from beyond, and the life divine assume a body divine.

Sri Aurobindo, Essays in Philosophy and Yoga: Perfection of the Body

Because it was a special occasion, all these people in the groups first marched past with the band as the Mother took the salute, standing against the spiritual map of undivided India, which had been engraved in green cement upon the wall, with the Mother's symbol in brass at its centre.

About this map of India the Mother has stated:

The map was made after the partition.

It is the map of true India in spite of all passing appearances, and it will always remain the map of the true India, whatever people may think about it.

The Mother, Words of the Mother - I: India

After this the Mother withdrew to her room in the Playground. We watched the Ashramites marching. At the end they observed a few minutes of collective concentration with the Mother, who had come out of her room again. Then her special chair and foot-rest were placed near the map, along with a small table on which stood plates of toffees. She sat in the chair and distributed toffees to everyone.

When it was my turn to go to her, the soul in me rushed out to meet her. She looked at me with her shining eyes for a second. We exchanged smiles. Then I bowed at her feet. She leaned forward and caressed my head. The sweet warmth of her love flooded my whole being.

At that instant I felt the Perfect Love, for she is THAT: My soul knew that we had loved each other for countless ages. There was a golden current of love flowing ceaselessly between the Mother and her child. Her love caught me up, to burn and shine through all my being. I could scarcely believe my good fortune—everything else in the world seemed trivial and totally unimportant.

As I record this, my memory drifts to a later day, 1st September 1966, when the Mother gave me an exquisite birthday card with a big orange-red rose painted on it. These lines accompanied it:

With my blessings for your aspiration to lead your entire being to your goal:

Love manifest in Truth

and with Sri Aurobindo I say, "Forever Love ..."

After a few moments' contemplation, the Mother pointed to the rose and said,

This means tendresse in French. But it is not 'tenderness'. It is an individual love—it means deep love, sweet care, intensity of compassion.

My child, when I was writing this card for you, I came to know that it is for ages that I have been loving you.

Her words were like jewels, suddenly set into my heart. I affirmed, "Mother I have felt the same, ever since I first saw you." She smiled and nodded.

To the orange-red rose, she has given the significance:

Flaming love for the Divine—ready for all heroism and sacrifice.

After taking prasad from the Mother, we went to the Central Park, in front of Government House. Later this was renamed "Bharati Memorial Park". This park was designed by the sadhak Pavitra (Philippe Barbier St.-Hilaire), one of the Mother's personal secretaries who used to handle all foreign correspondence, and who would drive the Mother's car when she went out. In 1954 those gardens were still not fully planted. Most of the park was still bare. There the de facto merger of Pondicherry with the Indian Union was being celebrated with songs and a Durga dance. I was informed that this was the first time that the Ashram children had been allowed by the Mother to participate in a public programme.

The day came to an end. I was so happy, so content, that I slept instantly, peacefully, after I reached my room at Golconde.

02 November 1954

The following morning I got up early to be ready for the Mother's Balcony Darshan. This was an event of great importance and spiritual value.

At six o'clock every morning she would come out of her rooms onto the balcony, while people congregated in the street below. All eyes were focussed upwards on her. Her eyes serenely scrutinized the upturned faces below. Her Light and Force touched the inner being of every one.

I felt as if time were suspended for a few minutes—as if the fire of the souls' aspiration rose to her. Everyone seemed dazzled.

Then slowly, lingeringly, smilingly, she retreated, leaving her Bliss in response to the people's aspiration.

The Darshan was over. But the gathering dispersed gradually, because people were trying to assimilate what the Mother had given—trying to be more and more receptive, open, honest and sincere. Moreover the Mother's piercing look had worked to obliterate all befogging despair and dejection.

Thus the Ashram people commenced their day.

We took our lunch in the Ashram's well-disciplined Dining Room. After collecting our enamel plates, bowls and spoons, we proceeded to a counter where piping-hot food was served by Ashram volunteers. The food was simple: brown bread, vegetable curry, a serving of rice, curd, sugar, bananas, and some slices of lemon.

Small low individual tables and mats stood in three or four rooms. We took tumblers from a big stand, filled them with water from an earthen pot with a steel tap, and then sat down and ate in an atmosphere of silence—although hundreds of people were there taking their meal.

Afterwards we handed the used utensils to some Ashramites, who washed them first in cold soapy water and then in boiling water. Every job in the Dining Room was performed efficiently in record time. I was amazed at the order and organisation. I saw cleanliness and scrupulousness everywhere: even the flower-pots were kept spotless, no weeds or dead leaves were allowed to remain in them. One could breathe an air of freshness wherever one moved.

Afterwards we went into the Pondicherry bazaar, which at that time was smaller in scale but bigger in sale—because foreign goods were still available in most of the shops. I bought some perfume and a sari of white Swiss voile that resembled georgette.

In the evening it felt good to walk along the promenade by the sea. There was a phosphorescent lustre on the gentle waves, and an absolute hush except for the deep murmur of the solemn sea. I also observed different shifting colours in the sky, and clouds touched by the evening light.

Undated?

The monsoon had reached Pondicherry, so the weather was not too hot. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay in the Ashram.

I did not want to waste my time, so from fabric I had brought from Africa I sewed a set of salwar, kameez, stole, kitty cap and lap-cloth for the Mother. As a finishing touch I clipped imitation diamonds on the whole set in several designs. As my time was running short, Vasudha, known to all as "Akka"—elder sister, one of the sadhika attendants of the Mother, along with her assistants, helped me to finish the work in the Mother's Embroidery Department, where all the Mother's clothes were made, mostly by hand.

09 November 1954

On Tuesday 9th November I was fortunate enough to be granted an interview with the Mother, in her Interview Room at the Playground. This cosy room, softly lamp-lit, was surcharged with a marvellous peace. Flowers, especially jasmines, spread their fragrance. The ethereal atmosphere carried me away. Everything was hushed except for the fast beating of my heart as I drew near the Mother.

She sat in a chair. Her feet, in white Japanese tabis, rested on a footstool. She was wearing the white silk dress I had made for her—it suited her. She smiled and welcomed me cordially. I was asked to sit near her feet. She held my hands and looked straight into my eyes for quite some time. Then she put a pretty gold chain around my neck—a chain she had worn round one of her ankles for many years. It had intricate enamel work in maroon upon it and had been given a dainty pendant of the Mother's symbol, with a ruby in the centre.

The aura of her proximity, and her delicate French perfume entranced me. Tears welled up in my eyes. A prayer arose from the depths of my heart: "Mother, liberate me ..." She was moved by the cry of my soul. Her expression changed, her eyes became yet more brilliant and powerful. Slowly she lifted her left hand and pressed it on my head. Suddenly I felt as if the whole world was revolving around me at high speed. Her Force suffused my body. I was oblivious of my existence for a second or two and merged in her divinity. I closed my eyes in sheer ecstasy. This experience was unique in my life. I grew a little dizzy.

Gradually I opened my eyes and observed that the Mother's expression had now changed once again. Her eyes were actually a shade between blue and grey, but they seemed to vary colour with her mood. Now they showed sovereign knowledge, understanding, compassion, consideration. With a smile she asked me:

Are you going back? Wouldn't you like to stay here?

I answered,

Yes, I would. But I think I should go back for the present, because circumstances demand my return. I am married. Kindly set me free from this bondage. Mother, will you please call me as soon as possible? I would really love to stay near you.

She assented,

Yes, my child.

I drew a long silent breath of relief and laid my head upon her knees. She blessed me. Then she took a handful of jasmines from the tray which had been set on a small table beside her chair, and gave them to me. She clasped my hands and said,

Write to me through Dyuman.

And with an enigmatic smile—the smile that was so much a part of her—she bade me Au revoir.

My husband asked me what the Mother had said. I returned no answer apart from showing him the chain she had given me.

In my room I changed my clothes, and then sat on the wide ledge near the open window shutters. My mind roamed back over all that the Mother had said to me. Her jasmines suffused the room with perfume. At close to midnight I was still sitting there, as rain beat down outside—the earth smelt refreshing.

Now my soul was charged with the Mother's Force, and ready for the future. I laid my hand on my neck, and felt the sacred chain. Sweet memories of her made me shut my eyes with content when at last I went to bed.

The next morning, before I left for Bombay with my husband, the Mother sent to me through Dyuman her book Prayers and Meditations, along with her blessings. I opened it and read her introductory words, which appealed to me enormously:

Some give their soul to the Divine, some their life, some offer their work, some their money. A few consecrate all of themselves and all they have—soul, life, work, wealth; these are the true children of God. Others give nothing—these, whatever their position, power and riches, are for the Divine purpose valueless cyphers.

This book is meant for those who aspire for an utter consecration to the Divine.

These prayers of hers inspired me so much that I grew certain of the final victory of my soul.

Undated?

From Bombay I went to Calcutta, where my husband was managing a branch of a cotton firm. His family were rolling in wealth. I was loaded with diamonds and pearls, which seemed to burn me alive.

I found Calcutta a gloomy and depressing city. My husband went to his work every morning and came back at night. The whole day I was all alone in a big apartment. After some time he arranged for me to learn the sitar from a Bengali gentleman. I had learned to play this instrument earlier, and now I wished to become more proficient; but I found that I could not learn anything new from this teacher, so I gave up, and once again ruminated on how to escape from this delusive world.

My husband gave me lots of money to spend. Occasionally I would go on a shopping spree, though without much interest. One day I was much amused to see some shopkeepers snoring away in their stalls. If customers, like me, asked them for something they simply advised them in their "classic" Hindi to go further on to find the items they required, then pulled their caps over their eyes again and went back to sleep!

Pradyot Bhattacharya had been in the Ashram during my stay there. When Dyuman introduced me to him, he remarked, "Ah, I know her." In fact we had never met before. But, as the Mother puts it, we are all members of the Divine's family.

Now he had returned to Calcutta, and he often invited me to his house where he ran a small Sri Aurobindo Centre. He and his wife Rani were very cordial to me.

At that time Pradyot was the chief Engineer of the Damodar Valley Corporation, which was building the Bokaro Power Station, a project planned entirely by him. He was a well-known person in Calcutta.

One day Pradyot took me to the Zoo. I was amused to watch elephants raise their trunks to salute us. I confided in him my wish to lead a spiritual life. He was considerate and full of understanding. He asked me to be patient and to leave the matter to the Mother. I appreciated his advice.

Since I had read a lot about Ramakrishna and Vivekananda, I wanted to go to Belur Math, built by Vivekananda on the bank of the Ganges. Ma Sharadamani Devi and Vivekananda had lived there. My husband took me to this wonderful place. My heart was quickened by the evening prayers: various instruments were played while the monks sang in front of the huge marble statue of Ramakrishna. The atmosphere was entrancing—the presence of Ramakrishna, Ma Sharadamani Devi and Vivekananda could be felt there. I was reluctant to return to my house, which was not mine. I was aloof, disinterested. I was pining to return to my true home—the Sri Aurobindo Ashram.

I also had a glimpse of Dakshineshwar, on the other side of the Ganges. Here Ramakrishna lived, meditated, did tapasya and realised the Supreme Goddess. Temples of Kali, Radha and Krishna form part of the complex. There is a big banyan tree known as Panchvati, referring to Sri Ramakrishna's five-fold sadhana which culminated in the realisation of the harmony of all religions. Beneath this tree Ramakrishna sat for hours together—it was his favourite seat for prayer and meditation. I found peace and silence in this place, and his words arose in my consciousness:

You see many stars in the sky at night, but not when the sun rises. Can you therefore say that there are no stars in the heavens during the day? O man, because you cannot find God in the days of your ignorance, say not that there is no God.

1955

Every day I used to read the Mother's Prayers and Meditations—this gave me tremendous strength. Dyuman's letters, which brought with them the Mother's blessing-packets and her messages, also encouraged and supported me very much.

The New Year message the Mother sent to me through Dyuman was extremely appropriate and appealing.

1955

No human will can finally prevail against the Divine's Will. Let us put ourselves deliberately and exclusively on the side of the Divine, and the Victory is ultimately certain.

Secretly I was planning to escape as soon as possible. I separated my things from my husband's, rearranged my suitcases, and placed inside them notes saying "This belongs to the Mother of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram". I was not going to carry all those cases with me, lest my husband suspect my adventurous project—I had to be very cautious.

I told my husband that I wished to go to the Ashram for the Mother's birthday. At first he refused point-blank; after much persuasion he relented, but insisted that I should be back within a fortnight.

As the time approached for my departure I bought a wrist-watch for my husband with money my mother had given me. His birthday was in February and would fall after I had left, so I gave him the watch. It was an Omega. Omega is of course the name of the company; but it is also the last letter of the Greek alphabet. This was symbolic, as I knew it was my last gift to him. I also gave him the keys to all my cases.

He was a nice man, but had no aim that accorded with mine.

On the last night before I left, I was cooking on a gas-ring when flames suddenly spurted up—they nearly caught me and would have burnt me entirely, especially as my long hair was down and within reach. The servant who was there was astonished that I escaped unscathed—it seemed hardly possible. Obviously this was an attack of subtle hostile forces, trying to prevent me from reaching the Mother's feet.

10 February 1955

The next day—Thursday February 10, 1955—I left the house at five in the morning, when the night had scarcely gone. Some stars still twinkled in the sky, a grey dawn clung silently to the trees and buildings; but at seven the sun took over: a new day—my new life had started.

I abandoned the ordinary world without any regret. But escaping from the net of circumstances entangling me was not so easy. If the Mother's Force had not been with me I would surely have failed.

My husband saw me off at the airport, which was quite far from our house. He was under the impression that I would return to him.

After many bumps and jerks the small Avro touched down at Madras. I felt quite bewildered. A taxi had been arranged for me by someone who did the Ashram's work in Madras. Two men whose appearance made me shudder were to escort me to Pondicherry. We left the aerodrome and had driven for about five kilometres before I asked these men whether they had brought my suitcase. A strange portmanteau was beside me—I thought it must belong to one of them. But they thought that it was mine, and it was the only one they had put in the car.

I requested them to go back to the airport. When we reached it I saw an elderly European lady near the counter—she was fuming with rage, her face twitching all over. In front of her was my valise. With the permission of the authorities I took my case and returned the portmanteau to her. If she had been satisfied with my suitcase, she would have benefited, for it was filled with precious things I had brought to offer to the Mother.

Once more we were on our way to Pondicherry. Looking at the men who were in the car with me I felt nervous: they looked like real ruffians, with big moustaches, bloodshot eyes, and red scarves around their necks. However they did not smoke, nor did they talk roughly and loudly.

In the back seat I was lost in remembrance of the Mother. My eyes felt heavy and drowsy—I closed them. But now and again I glimpsed the luxuriant greenery along the way.

I must add that those odd-looking men behaved like perfect gentlemen: at the end of the drive one of them opened the car-door for me, while the other lifted out my luggage. When I stepped out they bowed and gave me friendly smiles.

Finally I had reached my true home—the Ashram!

Undated?

Once again I was accommodated in Golconde. Dyuman came to greet me. He informed me that when he reported my arrival to the Mother she said, "I will certainly keep her here."

I gave Dyuman the gifts I had brought for the Mother, and told him that the rest of the cases would follow.

In the evening I went to the Playground. My heart sang in sweet secrecy when I went close to the Mother. Our eyes met and held for a timeless moment. Gently I sank to my knees and bowed at her feet. I offered myself. The Mother leaned forward in her chair, laid her hand on my head and fondled it. When I rose and looked at her, she smiled. Giving me a small bag of groundnuts, she pressed my hands with both of hers and nodded silently: she had accepted me.

12 February 1955

On the evening of Saturday February 12th the Mother called me to her beautifully decorated Interview Room. She asked me, "Child, are you a minor?" "No, Mother, I am not," I answered. She went into a deep contemplation for quite a while. I was enjoying her nearness, and wondering what she would say. I gazed at her face, which was so divine, so serene, so lovable. She caught me watching her when she opened her eyes abruptly.

Then she told me what I should write to my family and my in-laws, explaining my departure for good. In the course of our conversation I asked the Mother, "What are the important points of this Integral Yoga? What should I do?" She smiled and replied, "Have faith in the Divine, love the Divine, and develop the consciousness." She saw the confusion in my mind, and patting my hands assured me that she would see me through. Tears of gratitude sprang to my eyes.

I pulled the eight gold bangles from my wrists and gave them to her—they were the last of my possessions. I had brought with me absolutely nothing that had belonged to my husband, or been presented to me by him or his family.

As she had instructed, the letters were sent to my husband and his family, and to my people.

17 February 1955

The card which the Mother gave me on February 17th bore my new name:

Huta the offered one

With my blessings.

The Mother

20 February 1955

On February 20th, despite the heavy work she had because of her birthday the following day, the Mother wrote to Laljibhai:

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.

The Mother, Words of the Mother - I: Coming to the Ashram

By this time I had already joined one of the groups in the Playground. I was in E Group. The uniform consisted of a white shirt, white shorts, a kitty-cap of white net, and white tennis-shoes. I had never before exposed my legs above the knees—I was used to wearing elegant frocks, skirts and blouses. At first I felt terribly embarrassed and shy in this outfit.

Each group had its own prayer to the Mother, and her reply to each group was illuminating. The prayer of E Group was:

We want to be what You want us to be.

The Mother's response was:

I have full trust in your good will. Trust in my help.

On special occasions we would wear an embroidered badge on the left side of our shirts. It depicted the Mother's symbol upon a silver-blue background. This was a miniature of the flag-design which is printed on the cover of the Bulletin. The Mother has explained about this flag and the cover:

The flag which is printed on the cover of this Bulletin is a full-blown lotus in gold with two rows of petals (4 inside and 12 outside) exactly in the centre of a square field of silvery blue.

This blue is the blue of the Spirit, and the gold is the colour of the Supreme Mother. The red of the cover surrounding the flag signifies an illumined physical consciousness.

The flag was originally intended to be only the flag of the J.S.A.S.A.; but later, on the day when India's liberation was celebrated here (15th August, 1947), it was found that it expressed also the spiritual mission of the whole of India. It is therefore to us the symbolic flag of resurgent, united and victorious India raising itself out of the torpor of centuries and having cast off the shackles of enslavement and passed through all the pangs of a new birth, to emerge once more as a great and united nation leading the world and its humanity to the highest ideals of the Spirit.

We consider ourselves therefore very fortunate to have as our flag one with such a symbolism and we cherish it deeply.

The following is written by Amal Kiran:

The Spiritual Flag of India

The Mother's Flag

"A full-blown lotus in gold with two rows of petals (inside 4, outside 12) exactly in the centre of a square field of silvery blue, the ratio of the side of the square to the diameter of the lotus being 6:2.5—the Mother's flag symbolises the Spiritual Reality at work in Sri Aurobindo's Ashram. Out of the concentrated Seed-Shakti that is the centre, four primary powers of divinity are shown as breaking: they are Maheshwari, Mahakali, Mahalakshmi, Mahasaraswati—goddess-personalities of wisdom, dynamism, harmonious beauty, flawless organisation. These four are then depicted as putting forth twelve manifesting forces that operate within the periodic time-process. The supreme infinity, the all-containing and all-supporting spiritual Self is the silvery blue background, the foundational mystery from which the Divine's revelation—emblemed by the lotus—stands out in gold suggestive of sovereign Truth-consciousness. The roundness of the lotus combined with the squareness of the background betoken perfection and omni-competence of being, and there is in the whole flag the suggestion not only of a sky with an ethereal flower poised in it but also of a stretch of water with an earthly bloom afloat. The ever-existing ideality above and the secret wonder that is to be revealed below are both compassed in the symbolism. Here, then, is a flag charged with India's spiritual mission, the mission of rendering victorious the Divine Mother, the infinite Self and Shakti. In this symbolism is the promise both of India's own unity and of a world-union; for, the genuine indefeasible oneness can come only of a sense in all men of the one God who is their true reality."

Leena Dowsett, a sadhika, was our captain; she was training a few beginners like me in the tennis court. We often committed comical mistakes; but she was very considerate and patient with us, and we relished her sense of humour.

21 February 1955

The Mother's birthday arrived. Everyone was eager to greet her. I wore a white sari with a red border that had been given to me by the Mother the Sunday before—she used to distribute saris to sadhikas and napkins to sadhaks before every Darshan to mark the occasion. This was the first time I had worn such a coarse cotton sari—I was used to wearing silk and chiffon ones. I found it rather rough and uncomfortable. But I forgot all about it when in the line I started going up a staircase covered with a thick soft green fabric secured by shining brass rods. Then, passing through a small corridor, I entered first a passage room and then Sri Aurobindo's chamber. Numerous incense sticks sent up a delicate cloud. A profusion of tastefully-arranged flowers mingled their perfumes with it. The atmosphere was celestial.

There was his large bed, and behind it a bronze bust of him, made—I learned later—by an Austrian sculptress. My whole being became unusually calm and quiet. I re-entered the passage-room and came into the Meditation Hall. I moved slowly, and paused in front of the small room where there was a huge photograph of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, placed on a big divan. Then crossing the long Hall, I came to the carved high-backed chair where the Mother was sitting, impeccably dressed. She was handing a message to each of the Ashramites, devotees and visitors. She looked at me and a glad smile broke over her face as she handed me this message:

Out of the paths of the morning star they came,||90.28||
Forerunners of a divine multitude,
Faces that wore the immortal's glory still,
Voices that communed with the thoughts of God,
Bodies made beautiful by the Spirit's light:
The sun-eyed children of a marvellous Dawn,
The great creators with wide brows of calm,
The massive barrier-breakers of the world
And wrestlers with destiny in her lists of will,
The labourers in the quarries of the Gods,
The messengers of the Incommunicable,
The architects of immortality. ||90.29||
Into the fallen human sphere they came
Carrying the magic word, the mystic Fire,
Carrying the cup of Dionysian Joy,
Approaching eyes of a diviner Man,
Lips chanting an unknown anthem of the soul,
Feet echoing in the corridors of Time. ||90.30||
Even as man once came behind the beast,
After us there shall come a greater race,
High priests of wisdom, sweetness, might and bliss,
And runners upon beauty's sunlit ways,
And swimmers of Love's laughing fiery floods
And dancers within rapture's golden doors,
Whose tread one day shall change the suffering earth
And justify the light on Nature's face. ||90.31||

Sri Aurobindo, Savitri
Book III, Canto 4. An early version

Afterwards I went to the General Dining Room and had my lunch there as usual. On such auspicious occasions, sweets were served.

In the evening the Mother took the salute, standing against the map of spiritual undivided India, while we paraded with the band. All together we loudly called the invocation:

Victory to the Sweet Mother! Victory to the Sweet Mother! Victory to the Sweet Mother! Vande Mātaram, Vande Mātaram, Vande Mātaram!

Then the band played Vande Mataram. This was followed by a concentration.

Afterwards the Mother distributed the Bulletin of the Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education to the heads of the Ashram Departments, teachers, Group captains and certain other people.

There was also a short programme of performances. Some small children did a mouse dance, which was most entertaining.

When the day came to an end I was tired—there had been no repose. Before going to sleep I opened Prayers and Meditations. The prayer I read had been written by the Mother on March 13th, 1913:

Let the pure perfume of sanctification burn always, rising higher and higher, and straighter and straighter, like the ceaseless prayer of the integral being, desiring to unite with Thee so as to manifest Thee.

Each prayer of the Mother is surcharged with her Force. Sri Aurobindo has written:

I have said that the Divine does the Sadhana first for the world and then gives what is brought down to others. There can be no Sadhana without realisations and experiences. The Prayers are a record of Mother's experiences.

03 March 1955

Time seemed to move too fast. On March 3rd Laljibhai with my second brother Vasantbhai and his wife Manjula arrived, along with my husband and his elder brother. The same evening the Mother gave them quite a long interview.

Afterwards Laljibhai was asked to remain a little longer. She revealed to him many things about my soul and my future, which he related to me later that night—for he was staying in Golconde. The others were staying in the New Guest House, run by Manoranjan Ganguli, a sadhak—Leena Dowsett helped him.

I had dinner with my relatives at the New Guest House. I was wearing my shorts, shirt, kitty-cap and tennis shoes—heaven knows what they thought about my outfit!

My husband asked to have a word with me in private. He told me that my letter had been a shock to him and that he had been terribly upset for days. I said to him:

"I am very sorry—but right from the start every explanation was given to you that I was constrained to get married: my family considered my wish not to go in for married life as the ravings of a lunatic. I had nobody to turn to, because nobody would believe or understand my feelings.

"You know I fell very ill and had a nervous breakdown because it was not easy to adjust to life with your family—my ideals were very different. It was impossible for me to lead an ordinary life because my soul aspires for something higher and exceptional. Believe me, I was very unhappy.

"I am not a coward. I haven't left the ordinary world because of difficulties and sufferings. My soul is destined to lead the spiritual life. I hope you will understand."

He replied, "Yes, I do. The Mother also told us that you were not meant for the ordinary life, and that you were pure. But in case you change your mind my doors are always open for you."

I smiled and said, "I am grateful. But the chances are thin. So I want you to remarry and be happy. I cannot possibly give you what is expected of a wife. Moreover you cannot give me what I have been hoping for: true, selfless love and companionship in the spiritual life. So there you are."

We exchanged good wishes, and parted.

The next morning, after the Mother had seen the divorce certificate which my relatives had brought with them, I signed it in front of a Pondicherry Judge, Mr. S. Shiva—himself a devotee of the Mother.

My relatives went around to see some of the Ashram Departments and activities. I accompanied them. I felt indifferent, detached. My sister-in-law begged me with tears in her eyes, "Please come back to where you belong. You are too young to stay here all alone." I could have given her many explanations, but remained silent. During the distribution she wept before the Mother, who consoled her with compassion.

The next morning all of them left for Bombay, except Laljibhai, who remained thirteen days longer. During that time Dyuman took us both on an outing to see some of the fields and gardens of the Ashram.

When Laljibhai left on March 16th I felt sad. Nevertheless I was much relieved, because the Mother had settled everything with my family, my husband and my in-laws, so that they never questioned me or accused me of anything.

Now no earthly power could ever take me away from my Beloved Mother.

29 March 1955

March 29th was the anniversary of the Mother's first arrival in Pondicherry. She distributed this message to everyone:

Happiness comes from the soul's satisfaction, not from the vital's or the body's. The vital is never satisfied; the body soon ceases to be moved at all by what it easily or always has. Only the psychic being brings the real joy and felicity.

Sri Aurobindo, The Mother with Letters on The Mother: Nearness to the Mother and Progress in Sadhana

The ornaments which belonged to me had already been brought by my people and offered to the Mother. Now my remaining suitcases arrived from Calcutta. Dyuman gave me a vivid description of the Mother's expression when my things were shown to her. She had liked some French chiffon saris, and wished dresses to be made of them for her—many of them were brand new. There were also many other beautiful things, and she was appreciative.

Meanwhile a very unpleasant incident took place, which shattered my nerves. It was with a person who behaved so shabbily—her attitude was despotic. My tearful pent-up anger was such that I could not help reporting it to the Mother. She answered me:

Now, from the point of view of Yoga, it is always better to attach no importance to these superficial things and to keep an inner poise and a quiet mind, taking refuge in the Divine and giving importance only to the relation with the Divine.

I fought down my indignation and recovered my composure. My true self implored the Mother to assist me to settle down in this new life. She promised:

My love is always with you, my help is always with you, my strength is always with you. I will lead you through all difficulties towards the Light, the Peace and the Joy.

This you must never forget.

The Mother gave me two photographs, one of Sri Aurobindo and one of herself. They were mounted separately in frames embroidered with gold thread.

And ... I took the plunge into the ocean of spirituality. I thought that now the Divine was within my reach and that I was leading the Divine Life. How mistaken I was!

In fact I understood nothing. I felt as if I had been pushed into a black, turbulent and threatening sea. Hostile forces came rushing into my consciousness like gigantic waves and showed me all the gaps in my being, to test my sincerity towards the Call. I sank deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. I found everything around me dark, depressing, strange, startling, crushing. My struggle had begun.

04 April 1955

On 4th April—Sri Aurobindo's arrival day—the Mother gave the following message to all. I was moved by it:

One has to be more persistent than the difficulty—there is no other way.

Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV: Sex

Nothing can prevail against the soul's entire will to reach the Divine.

Sri Aurobindo

24th April 1920 was the date of the Mother's final arrival in Pondicherry. This occasion was celebrated as one of the four Darshan days in the year. On that day the Groups stood in formation around the Samadhi. After a brief concentration, we went upstairs to the Meditation Hall to receive the Mother's blessings, and a message which ran:

THE FIRE-KING
O soul who comest fire-mantled from the earth
Into the silence of the seven skies,
Art thou an heir of the spiritual birth?
Art thou an ancient guest of Paradise?

THE MESSENGER
I am the Messenger of the human race,
I am the Pioneer, from death and night.
I am the nympholept of Beauty's face,
I am the hunter of the immortal Light.

THE FIRE-KING
What flame is this that wraps thee with its power
And turns the spears of the Guardians of the Way?
What wanderer born from the eternal Hour?
What fragment of the inconceivable Ray?

THE MESSENGER
It is the fire of an awakened soul
Aspiring from death to reach Eternity,
The wings of sacrifice flaming to their goal,
It is the burning godhead of humanity.

THE FIRE-KING
What wouldst thou here, child of the transient ways?
Wouldst thou be free still in deathless peace?
Or gaze for ever on the Eternal's face
Hushed in an incommunicable release?

THE MESSENGER
I claim for men the peace that shall not fail,
I claim for earth the unsorrowing timeless bliss,
I seek God-strength for souls that suffer in hell,
I seek God-light for the ignorant abyss.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Fire King and the Messenger

Afterwards I came to know that during our concentration, the Mother had stood watching us from one of the windows facing the Samadhi. I resolved that the next time I would not fail to look up at her.

Undated?

By this time the summer had set in. I felt exhausted, enervated by the increasing heat. I often had to rinse my face, which was damp and sticky with perspiration. Humidity made the heat harder to bear. The nights were uncomfortable, and I slept badly. There were no fans in Golconde at that time. I felt constantly uneasy and restless.

In the beginning I had no assigned work. It was suggested to me that I should pluck the dry turf from the lawn in the Golconde garden. I had to do this in the blistering heat.

I wrote to the Mother, asking her to give me some specific work. She replied,

Go to Nolini, be will give you work and answer your questions.

With my blessings.

I went to Nolini, who was one of the Mother's secretaries, and showed him her note. He asked me whether I knew how to type. "A little" I replied. So I started working with him. He gave me the Mother's messages for typing, as well as articles written by himself and other people. I remember typing some manuscripts of Kishor Gandhi: his handwriting was often undecipherable, and I would have to run to Nolini for help. I used to sit in a room which is now part of the Publications Department; so to consult Nolini I had to walk from one end of the Ashram to the other.

Despite all the inconveniences I wanted to do the Mother's work well. But this work did not satisfy me—it was too mechanical. I wanted to do something else in addition. So I was given work in the Mother's private stores, downstairs in the Ashram building. Dyuman was in charge. Nobody was allowed in except Rishabchand Samsukha, who used to clean everything there. Now I took up the job.

Never before in my life had I swept and scrubbed floors—I had been brought up like a princess. I found it pretty hard. My hands and knees ached, yet I carried on, knowing that this too was one of the Mother's ways of training me.

When I was working in the stores, I had to keep the front door always shut, so that nobody should enter. Huge cupboards had been installed there which covered almost all the windows. The place was really stuffy and dark. The electric light was kept on all the time. Occasionally Chandrakant M. Patel would fumigate it with Gammaxene—then the smoke spread through all the rooms.

However the work was enjoyable, because it was interesting to see and clean the countless different kinds of fabulous things offered to the Mother by people from all over the world: silver vases, boxes of various shapes and designs, silver plates, glasses with embossed patterns on them, and ivory curios; fragrant sandalwood items, all kinds of brassware, colourful carpets, carved furniture, tall porcelain jars from Japan and China, vases and other rare pieces; also exquisite objects in cut crystal-glass, and other artistic and beautiful things. There were also the Mother's own dresses which she had worn before she came to India, clothes of her grandparents, and other antiques. I felt as if I were lost in a huge treasury of art and handicrafts—each object had its own story. I found them all full of consciousness, and never felt lonely in the stores. Each day I explored something new, and was thrilled to see those rare and ancient things.

After my work was finished, I would often sit in front of the big armchair which Sri Aurobindo had used for several years. I prayed to him as though he were sitting there in it. I also cleaned and arranged the wardrobe where Sri Aurobindo's clothes, pillow-covers, sheets, bedspreads and other things were kept. I liked to touch them and feel him.

In the Ashram I saw that many people knew French. I too wanted to learn the Mother's language. I expressed my wish to her. She responded:

Huta,

Do you know Shanti? He will teach you French, he knows it well. If you like I can tell him to teach you.

With my blessings.

Yet another letter came from her, saying:

Are you doing the marching? If not, you can learn in the Playground. It is better if he doesn't go to Golconde.

With my love and blessings.

So I took my French lessons from Shanti Doshi in the Playground on the days when I was not marching. The lesson time was short and I found the grammar difficult. I grew bored, but still I continued.

One morning as I was eating my breakfast in the Dining Room, a woman sitting nearby asked me how I was getting along with my French. I replied, "Not very well, because the teacher talks about himself too much. Perhaps I shall stop."

"Why," she exclaimed, "he is my brother!"

"My God, how could I know?" I cursed myself. I felt so awkward that I could utter no soothing word. So I just left the Dining Room quietly, vowing never to say anything in future to people I did not know. Even to this day I hardly know anything of relationships within the Ashram—who is whose brother or sister, mother or father, and so forth.

Undated?

I prayed the Mother to spare me a little time to talk to her alone. She agreed, and wrote to me:

Yes, my child, I shall see you once every two months, but you must learn to feel my help and love always with you.

With my blessings.

The more I tried to concentrate on my aim, the more the opposing forces assailed me, assuming many diverse forms. They worked through other people, through ill-health, doubt, disbelief, fear, anger, ego, expectation, despair, discontentment, feelings of inferiority, jealousy, vanity. I was trapped in a whirl of baneful elements.

01 June 1955

On June 1st I wrote to the Mother:

The Divine Forces are slow to appear, while the anti-divine forces are prompt to rush into my consciousness and upset everything. Why is that?

She answered:

Because your call is not sincere enough and your confidence in the Divine's Grace is not sufficient.

In my letter I had added:

Mother, grant me three things on this Prosperity Day:

1) I should never lose faith in you. My love for you must increase.

2) Give me peace. My behaviour with you should always be as of a true child.

3) Give me strength to fulfil your Will.

To these three things she wrote:

Yes, Yes, Yes.

But how could I cultivate sincerity and confidence when all around me I saw crude and bewildering things happening? It was not easy to discriminate between the two colossal forces—the Truth and the Falsehood.

I received constant suggestions from the evil forces. I was almost convinced that they were absolutely right in pointing out numberless things which seemed utterly true and real. I was over-credulous and hypersensitive—hence the conflict between my inner and my outer being. This acutely painful division often left me sullen and confused.

Many a time prayers to the Mother arose from my aching heart, begging for her help. She wrote to me:

I am giving and shall continue to give—but the important thing is that you must receive.

If you call or aspire with fear that you will not be heard, or have doubts about the Divine's answer, then the adverse forces that are always on the watch, slip into your consciousness through the fear and the doubts and do their mischief.

So you must call with a true and sincere faith.

Help and Grace are always with you. But you must open yourself to them.

I endeavoured to follow her advice to the best of my ability. But it was hard to persevere. Some parts of my being refused to accept the new conditions of life, and frequently revolted against the Mother's Force, Grace, Love, Light, Truth and Peace. Time and again, these parts opened the door to perilous forces.

I found myself amidst strangers, and strange customs. There had been an instant change of environment, atmosphere, food and climate. Now I wondered whether I would be able to achieve my goal in such a place. My mind grew increasingly sceptical.

June 1955

During the month of June my mother and my brother Maganbhai came to see me, for my mother had been extremely perturbed and could not rest until she had seen me face to face. They stayed for a few days in the New Guest House. She asked me many questions, to which I tried to give suitable answers. She looked at me with tearful eyes, and said in a touching voice, "When I heard that you had left your house and come to stay in the Ashram, I almost became mad with worry and agony. I could not eat, I could not sleep, I fell ill." She showed me a gold pendant of the Mother's symbol and continued, "Look, the Mother sent this to me through Laljibhai, while I was still in Africa—then I gradually started feeling better.

I could not bear the sight of sweet corn, maize, since you love it so and I was not sure whether you could get it here. I had the whole crop removed from our kitchen gardens. And I gave away all the things you like most.

Look, I have removed all the gold and diamond ornaments I used to wear—what interest do I have in them, now that you have abandoned everything?

Are you really happy here? Do you get everything you need—every facility?"

As I listened to her pathetic words, large teardrops slid down my cheeks. But I wiped them away immediately and answered her with a smile, "I cannot tell you how fortunate I am to be near the Divine Mother. Please believe me, I am the happiest person."

The Mother was very sympathetic when my mother expressed her wish to have a photograph taken of the Mother and myself together, so that she could keep it always with her. Later one copy was sent to her, and another was given to me by the Mother. It was taken by Pranab Kumar Bhattacharya—Director of Physical Education.

When the time came for her to leave, my mother hugged me and kissed my cheeks. She wanted me to go with her. I was torn between my emotion and my aim. Weak tears rolled from my eyes. I felt as miserable and terrifed as a child who has suddenly found itself alone in the dark. At last I bade my mother and brother adieu.

That night in my room I put my face into my hands and wept for a long time. Then I was past crying—my pang was too deep for tears now. I tried to compose myself. But in a moment a shuddering fear clutched my heart. Added to this, I knew that it is very hard to practise spiritual truths, and that sentimental attachment is a stumbling block.

The next morning I steeled my mind and immersed myself once more in my work. I was making a veil for the Mother, and though it was small it took much time because it was so intricate.

At that time I began to experience a strange feeling in my heart—I began to have glimpses of the Peace and the Presence. They were sweetly soothing—caressingly comfortable.

28 June 1955

The Mother confirmed this on June 28th:

My child, you ask for a reply, but you are putting no question. To what am I to reply?

Now that you have experienced the Peace and Presence you must keep them by keeping very quiet in your mind. I am always helping you, but it is only when your mind is quiet that you can receive the help.

It is true that I am very busy and during the 2 months of athletics I cannot give interviews so you must be patient. Do not worry, I am not unwell—I am quite all right.

With my love and blessings.

Unfortunately my petty mind was not always quiet and silent. It built and broke numberless images and rambled on endlessly, impatient, restless, unchecked in its domain of reverie. Many a time I brushed away the cobwebs of imagination, but they entwined me yet more securely and made me immobile.

A curious dread had begun to grow amid the chaos of my mental formations. They persisted on the same track, foreseeing a thousand obstacles, setbacks, mishaps, struggles, sufferings, heedless of the effect they were producing on my body. I felt sick, tormented. A flood of memories of my home life, of my girlhood, crowded my head. I turned over in my thoughts all that had happened since that fateful morning when I first met the Mother.

Now I was nervous, scared by so many visible and invisible entities. One frequently does the wrong thing or commits errors simply because one is petrified with subtle fears and varied confusions. In answer to an incoherent letter from me, the Mother wrote:

I told you already several times what is the way, the only way; it is complete surrender. When you came here you said you wanted to give yourself to the Divine, that you wanted the Divine only. But in your brain there were a number of things (not material but emotional) that you wanted from the Divine in exchange. And when you did not get what you wanted, but something else—far superior—that you did not understand, something in your mind and your vital revolted, was dissatisfied and depressed and created all the trouble. Well, now there is nothing else to do but to be sincere to your higher aspiration and not only want the Divine but agree full-heartedly to the Divine Will and give yourself without demands; then and then only you will recover your poise, quietness of mind and happiness. It goes without saying that my full help is with you for that purpose.*

This clarification caused me distress and deep unrest, because I was ignorant about the diverse parts of my whole being, and about true spirituality. Certainly this was no fairytale but a stark reality which I had to confront and counteract at every second. I sent a note to the Mother saying:

My dearest Mother,

Are you really angry with me because of countless errors, defects, and my revolt against the Truth? I am sorry.

Love.

Huta

She assured me:

I am never angry with you and always ready to help you. With all my love and force.

A few lines from the Mother, her sweet smile, her tender touch, solaced me for a moment. But I kept on forgetting her reassurances.

A prolonged psychological stress and strife went on in me. Yet despite my unconsciousness and unwillingness, her Force went on acting in me unfailingly, unceasingly.

I wrote to the Mother:

In case I acquire the divine joy and happiness, I do not wish to have them for myself alone but for the whole world.

She confirmed it:

Yes, I know that.

I was not quite sure whether she had heard my call, even if it had not been sincere. She affirmed:

I always hear your call and answer at once.

But no, I was not convinced of this. The little physical mind doubted everything. I was too opaque to receive and accept anything she bestowed on me. And that was the tragedy.

I wrote a letter to the Mother in French. It is translated in English:

Sweet Mother,

I bow to you.

My Mother! I want four books in French. A dictionary, Lights on Yoga, Prayers and Meditations, and a grammar book.

Mother! Will you please give me the books?

You see I can't write very well in French. The letter contains many mistakes.

With love,

Huta

The Mother replied:

It is not bad at all. There are only two mistakes. Soon it will be perfect.

I will look for a dictionary and a grammar book. I don't have any with me.

My blessings.

She sent me two books in French: Lumières sur le Yoga and Prières et Méditations. I started reading them with Shanti Doshi.

15 August 1955

Soon it was August 15th. Sri Aurobindo's birthday and the day of India's Independence falling on the same date was not a coincidence. This was destined. Here is the striking message given by Sri Aurobindo on August 15, 1947:

August 15th, 1947 is the birthday of free India. It marks for her the end of an old era, the beginning of a new age. But we can also make it by our life and acts as a free nation an important date in a new age opening for the whole world, for the political, social, cultural and spiritual future of humanity.

August 15th is my own birthday and it is naturally gratifying to me that it should have assumed this vast significance. I take this coincidence not as a fortuitous accident, but as the sanction and seal of the Divine Force that guides my steps on the work with which I began life, the beginning of its full fruition. Indeed, on this day I can watch almost all the world-movements which I hoped to see fulfilled in my lifetime, though then they looked like impracticable dreams, arriving at fruition or on their way to achievement. In all these movements free India may well play a large part and take a leading position.

The first of these dreams was a revolutionary movement which would create a free and united India. India today is free but she has not achieved unity. ... the old communal division into Hindus and Muslims seems now to have hardened into a permanent political division of the country. It is to be hoped that this settled fact will not be accepted as settled for ever or as anything more than a temporary expedient. For if it lasts, India may be seriously weakened, even crippled: civil strife may remain always possible, possible even a new invasion and foreign conquest. India's internal development and prosperity may be impeded, her position amongst the nations weakened, her destiny impaired or even frustrated. This must not be; the partition must go. Let us hope that that may come about naturally, by an increasing recognition of the necessity not only of peace and concord but of common action, by the practice of common action and the creation of means for that purpose. In this way, unity may finally come about under whatever form—the exact form may have a pragmatic but not a fundamental importance. But by whatever means, in whatever way, the division must go; unity must and will be achieved, for it is necessary for the greatness of India's future.

Another dream was for the resurgence and liberation of the peoples of Asia and her return to her great role in the progress of human civilisation. Asia has arisen; large parts are now quite free or are at this moment being liberated: its other still subject or partly subject parts are moving through whatever struggles towards freedom. Only a little has to be done and that will be done today or tomorrow. There India has her part to play and has begun to play it with an energy and ability which already indicate the measure of her possibilities and the place she can take in the council of the nations.

The third dream was a world-union forming the outer basis of a fairer, brighter and nobler life for all mankind. That unification of the human world is under way; there is an imperfect initiation organised but struggling against tremendous difficulties. But the momentum is there and it must inevitably increase and conquer. Here too India has begun to play a prominent part and, if she can develop that larger statesmanship which is not limited by the present facts and immediate possibilities but looks into the future and brings it nearer, her presence may make all the difference between a slow and timid and a bold and swift development. A catastrophe may intervene and interrupt or destroy what is being done, but even then the final result is sure. For unification is a necessity of Nature, an inevitable movement. Its necessity for the nations is also clear, for without it the freedom of the small nations may be at any moment in peril and the life even of the large and powerful nations insecure. The unification is therefore to the interests of all, and only human imbecility and stupid selfishness can prevent it; but these cannot stand forever against the necessity of Nature and the Divine Will. But an outward basis is not enough; there must grow up an international spirit and outlook, international forms and institutions must appear, perhaps such developments as dual or multilateral citizenship, willed interchange or voluntary fusion of cultures. Nationalism will have fulfilled itself and lost its militancy and would no longer find these things incompatible with self-preservation and the integrality of its outlook. A new spirit of oneness will take hold of the human race.

Another dream, the spiritual gift of India to the world has already begun. India's spirituality is entering Europe and America in an ever increasing measure. That movement will grow; amid the disasters of the time more and more eyes are turning towards her with hope and there is even an increasing resort not only to her teachings, but to her psychic and spiritual practice.

The final dream was a step in evolution which would raise man to a higher and larger consciousness and begin the solution of the problems which have perplexed and vexed him since he first began to think and to dream of individual perfection and a perfect society. This is still a personal hope and an idea, an ideal which has begun to take hold both in India and in the West on forward-looking minds. The difficulties in the way are more formidable than in any other field of endeavour, but difficulties were made to be overcome and if the Supreme Will is there, they will be overcome. Here too, if this evolution is to take place, since it must proceed through a growth of the spirit and the inner consciousness, the initiative can come from India and, although the scope must be universal, the central movement may be hers.

Such is the content which I put into this date of India's liberation; whether or how far this hope will be justified depends upon the new and free India.

Sri Aurobindo, Autobiographical Notes and Other Writings of Historical Interest: The Fifteenth of August 1947

A question regarding India was put before the Mother:

How to bring about the needed cohesion and faith in the country?

She answered:

By following Sri Aurobindo's teachings. His Independence Day message on August 15, 1947 needs to be read and reread and its significance explained to millions of his compatriots. India needs the conviction and faith of Sri Aurobindo.

Now the day had arrived. In the morning the Mother distributed a message to everyone. I compared this message with the one she had given us on her own birthday, and their similarity impressed me:

A strong son of lightning came down to the earth with fire-feet of swiftness splendid;

Light was born in a womb and thunder's force filled a human frame. The calm speed of heaven, the sweet greatness, pure passion, winged power had descended;

All the gods in a mortal body dwelt, bore a single name.

A wide wave of movement stirred all the dim globe in each glad and dreaming fold;

Life was cast into grandeur, ocean hands took the wheels of Time. Man's soul was again a bright charioteer of days hired by gods impetuous bold,

Hurled by One on His storm-winged ways, a shaft aimed at heights sublime.

The old tablets clanging fell, ancient slow Nature's dead wall was rent asunder, God renewed himself in a world of young beauty, thought and flame: Divine voices spoke on men's lips, the heart woke to white dawns of gleaming wonder, Air a robe of splendour, breath a joy, life a godlike game.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: A Strong Son of Lightning

In the afternoon the Mother visited Golconde to see an exhibition on Japan. It was raining—the sky was emptying itself without restraint. The roads were rivers, and the earth smelt fresh. In the evening the Mother was occupied as on other Darshan days.

The rain interfered with the programmes in the Playground, but nevertheless the children performed them. The highlight was Spring-Song. A fantasia of dance and song heralding the New Dawn. Written, composed and organised by teachers and students of the Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education.

The following day I peeped into the rooms where the Japanese exhibition was being held. No one else was there. Tosiko Kawaguchi showed me round and told me many fascinating things about Japan.

When the Mother came finally to stay with Sri Aurobindo, on April 24, 1920, she brought with her many things she had used in Japan.

The display was arranged in four rooms. The first showed the country, the second its art and culture, the third the contrast between the Japan of 1919 and the new one of 1955, and the fourth room was devoted to home life.

Tosiko Kawaguchi, Tasinore Murakoshi and Akira Noda took a vital part in the organisation. They also arranged a Japanese garden in the grounds of Golconde, with many dwarf Bonzai trees, which are a speciality of Japanese horticultural art. Facing the tea basement they created a rockery in the shape of the Mother's sketch "Ascent to the Truth".

This exhibition was seen and appreciated by many people. The Japanese, wearing their national costumes, acted as guides. They also demonstrated the tea-ceremony, how to receive guests, how to bow before a shrine, and so on.

I was charmed by the Japanese dolls, the Buddhist shrine, the statues of Buddha, and the paintings by the Mother and other artists. A number of books on Japanese painting were also displayed. And there were all sorts of beautiful objects: Japanese crockery, tapestries, the Mother's hand-written scripts in Japanese.... In brief, they created a miniature Japan in Golconde.

August 1955

During the month of August, the Prime Minister of India—Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru—came to Pondicherry. This was his second visit. He was accompanied by his daughter Mrs. Indira Gandhi, the Chief Minister of Madras Mr. Kamaraj Nadar, and the Union Minister Shree Lal Bahadur Shastri. A photograph was taken of them together with the Mother in the Playground. Mr. Nehru visited the Playground for a short time despite his heavy schedule, and Mrs. Gandhi spent a considerable time looking around the Ashram.

At that time I did not catch a glimpse of her, because I remained in my room in Golconde, reading. I met Mrs. Gandhi almost thirty years later, at her residence in Delhi—a memorable meeting.

Undated?

Occasionally the Mother suffered from toothache. She disliked going out with a swollen cheek, so she remained in her apartment for a few days. I was filled with terrible dread, and felt lost without seeing her. To make it worse, some people started making random speculations about her. Since I was ultra-sensitive and sentimental, I was very much affected by their vibrations. Prickles of fear ran up my spine. This was how the dire and dangerous forces assaulted me.

The Mother consoled me:

Surely, my child, I have no intention of leaving you and you need not worry. But why do you listen to all the rubbish people say? they are full of mischief and throw their poison on everybody.

One thing you must know and never forget—it is all that is true and sincere will always be kept—only what is false and insincere will disappear.

So—in the measure in which your need for me is sincere and genuine, it will be fulfilled.

With my love and blessings.

But still I was deluded and fearful. Especially at night I often sat on the wide ledge under the open shutters of the window, pressed my head between my hands and sobbed my heart out. My mind spun and reacted unendingly. Without the Mother my life would be bitter and empty, I thought. I lay awake in my bed most of the night, staring into the gloom, my heart heavy and aching with an indefinable sadness.

The Mother expressed her sympathy and concern:

My child,

I am always with you and will never leave you. But as you are asking what to do, I shall tell you one thing that you must do, because it will help you.

Even if you do not understand French, come to all my French lessons, that is to say: Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 5.30 p.m. for the translation lessons; Wednesdays and Fridays at about 7.15 or 7.30 p.m. for the class and the reading.

You will sit there and listen and after some time you will see that you will understand more and more and in any case, understanding or not, you will be near me, like the baby cat near his mother, and you will benefit from the atmosphere.

I set off enthusiastically for the lesson, but I did not know which room to go to, or where to sit. I asked a few people who were going there. They gave me evasive answers, and told me sternly that there was no room for me in the class as it was already overcrowded. "Besides, you have no knowledge of French," they added.

Some people were jealous of me and harrassed me in every possible way. I was at a loss to understand this: what made them dislike me so much? I was certainly not wise, literate, spiritualised, as I believed they were. Yet I felt I should obey the Mother. So I found my way and stood near the classroom waiting for the Mother to arrive, as some others were doing. There too I had the feeling that certain people were trying to humiliate me. My eyes swam with tears and countless defeatist thoughts raced through my mind. I was at my lowest ebb at that moment.

The Mother came out of her room and asked for me. I approached her. She still looked wan and unwell. With a soft smile, she handed me a copy of The Human Cycle. Then she put her arm around my shoulders and led me into the class. Everyone stood up. Indeed, the room was packed, but she gave me a good seat just in front of her on the second bench. My heart was silently grateful.

The Mother sat at her writing table. Before she started to translate The Human Cycle into French, she spread her gaze over all of us with a warm smile.

I opened the book she had given me and found a pretty page-marker. On the fly-leaf she had written:

To Huta

with blessings.

The Mother began the lesson. Her voice was music to my ears. I tried to take down her dictation, but it was too difficult for me. I gave up, and turned several pages of the book; but I could not grasp anything. I felt drowsy.

The class ended. She looked fatigued. Slowly she rose from her chair and glanced briefly at me before making her exit.

Some people looked at me suspiciously or enviously. I could not care less, and went happily to Golconde.

On September 8, in answer to a letter of mine, the Mother wrote:

I have not forgotten my promise to see you after the sports, and your name was on the list of interviews. But this month is full of birthdays that have taken all my time, and now I am free only on Tuesday the 20th at 5.30. I have put your name for an interview that day.

With my love and blessings.

I still had to wait for what seemed an eternity.

My work continued. In addition, I sewed dresses for the Mother. And to take my mind off my problems, I thought of doing some embroidery on a lap-cloth for the Mother—when distributing eatables she used lap-cloths in different colours, matching her dresses. I was inspired to draw a design of two lamps touching at the points where the flames are lit, so that the two flames are fused into a single one. Beneath it the following lines, composed by me, were also to be embroidered:

Let it not go out, this tender flame of my love and my faith in Thee, O Great Flame! Let this flame be one with Thy Immortal Flame, 0 light it for ever with Thy Love, Grace and Thy Blessings.

Tender flame

At the appointed time I went to the Mother. She was extraordinarily gracious to me. I was touched almost to tears. She understood my feelings.

I gave her the lap-cloth in a box. She opened it and examined my work with a magnifying glass. Her eyes were alight with surprise and appreciation. She closed the box and set it aside, took my hands into hers and went deep into trance. After awaking she said solemnly:

Child, you should never listen to what people say. And if you do, then you should hear it with one ear and let it out through the other.

If something wrong happens, at once repeat my name, "Ma, Ma." That is like a meditation. Whenever you repeat the Name of the Divine you must always feel that the Divine is in your heart—there you can feel sweetness and peace. No doubt sometimes you do not feel the Divine's Presence and Peace; it is because your consciousness is entangled in the mind, and full of illusions. But you must understand that the hostile forces are false and the Divine Forces are true. You must always develop your consciousness towards the Divine Light.

At the same time you should eat well—not for your own sake, but for the sake of the Lord and His work. You should keep your body fit. Relax before you go to sleep and call me and then sleep in that atmosphere. Then my Force will work and will organise the whole being.

You must never think that the thing is difficult or impossible for you to put into practice and never say that you cannot do anything. Instead of that you must say, "The Lord makes everything easier for me." In fact you must try your best to achieve your goal. Keep absolute faith and a strong will. If you remain idle, without making any effort, and say, "Ah! I want everything," well, then it is quite impossible for you to attain your goal.

When you feel my Presence, Peace and Joy, you must always believe in these things because they are true. As you gradually feel the Divine's Presence, you will get new strength, new consciousness, everything.

Once and for all the adverse forces are bound to submit to the Divine Forces, and the Divine's Victory is certain.

Then she kissed my forehead and gave me some flowers.

In the evening, when she distributed groundnuts to everyone in the Playground, she spread the lap-cloth I had made over her dress, although it did not match it. When it was my turn, she smiled significantly, and I smiled in return.

24 September 1955

To my astonishment, on September 24th the Mother sent me for the first time, through Amrita, the General Manager of the Ashram, some tiny cute pink rosebuds. They signify "Tenderness for the Divine", and the Mother has commented on this flower:

It is sweet, with charming shade and delicate form, a smile that blossoms.

After Amrita left I kissed them gently, inhaled their scent, pressed them to my heart, and held my eyes shut for a moment to assimilate their occult message.

I was very much intrigued by the symbolism of flowers. The Mother has given significances to numerous flowers by entering their consciousness and feeling the living vibrations of their being. She used to present different flowers to people according to their spiritual needs. And the flowers themselves conveyed her message and gift.

The Mother has explained:

Flowers are extremely receptive. All the flowers to which I have given a significance receive exactly the force I put into them and transmit it. People don't always receive it because most of the time they are less receptive than the flower, and they waste the force that has been put in it through their unconsciousness and lack of receptivity. But the force is there, and the flower receives it wonderfully.

Undated?

Although each day, each moment, brought a new trial to me, in my innermost being I was aware that I could not leave the Ashram, or stay in the ordinary world. Yet my mind was too sceptical to be convinced of the Divine's Presence, because it could not see the Divine face to face, or touch Him—it demanded concrete proof.

I was unable to resist the combative, unyielding forces which caught me off guard time and time again. I could not understand their action, which made me feel worthless, vague, lonely and depressed. Again I was sliding back into the slime of the subconscient, which was dark, dire and unopposable.

The Mother sent me a letter:

My dear child,

You did well to write if it helps you to get rid of nasty attacks. But how can you feel lonely when my love is always with you? Your place is here and your soul knows it well, and it is here that you will get rid of all trouble.

No one understood me as the Mother did. That was why I wished to see her more often, and longed to talk with her to my heart's content.

25 October 1955

I really wanted to be released from the grip of the opposing elements. In reply to my prayer she wrote:

25.10.55

My dear, very dear little child, I do want that you should be freed from these cruel forces that make you so unhappy and inwardly I am constantly working to save you from their nasty grip—with my force, thought and love I never leave you for a moment—they constantly surround you with their protection and help. It is only physically that I cannot see you and speak to you always because I am too busy and have too many things to do. So you must learn to feel always my very real presence and also my help whenever things become difficult.

It would be good if daily you could devote some time to prayer, worship and meditation in whatever place you find easier.

Meanwhile keep courage and faith. I shall see you on the first November, your birthday, with the purpose of giving you a new birth, a birth in the spirit, to make you strong and peaceful.

With my love and blessings.

The Mother

This letter brought me a gleam of comfort and hope.

I recall what the Mother has said about "New Birth", in the Bulletin of February 1959, p. 81:

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.

The Mother, Questions and Answers (1957 - 1958): 26 November 1958

I wondered why Mother gave importance to birthays. Every evening I saw many birthday people going to her at the end of the distribution, carrying posies of flowers to offer to her, and to seek her blessings. The Mother received them and greeted them affectionately.

About birthdays the Mother has stated:

From the viewpoint of the inner nature, the individual is more receptive on his birthday from year to year, and thus it is an opportune moment to help him to make some progress each year.

The Mother, Some Answers from the Mother: 25 September 1969

I shook off the confused thoughts, and once more proceeded along the Path. The Mother sent me some incense-sticks which had a delicious perfume. Along with them came a plate and an incense-holder.

Then I started praying, meditating and worshipping the Divine as she had advised me, although I was hardly an expert in meditation.

She started sending roses, to be placed near the photographs of Sri Aurobindo and herself. Now my room had the air of a temple. When I burnt the incense-sticks, their aroma transported me to a celestial world.

As I write, the whirling smoke of fragrance reminds me of these lines from Savitri:

An incense floated in the quivering air,
A mystic happiness trembled in the breast
As if the invisible Beloved had come
Assuming the sudden loveliness of a face,
And close glad hands could seize his fugitive feet
And the world change with the beauty of a smile. ||75.14||

26 October 1955

The Puja days arrived.

On Durga Puja, October 26th 1955, the Mother came down to the Meditation Hall and distributed to everyone Sri Aurobindo's poem "Rose of God":

Rose of God, vermilion stain on the sapphires of heaven,
Rose of Bliss, fire-sweet, seven-tinged with the ecstasies seven!
Leap up in our heart of humanhood, O miracle, O flame,
Passion flower of the Nameless, bud of the mystical Name.

Rose of God, great wisdom-bloom on the summits of being,
Rose of Light, immaculate core of the ultimate seeing!
Live in the mind of our earthhood; O golden Mystery, flower,
Sun on the head of the Timeless, guest of the marvellous Hour.

Rose of God, damask force of Infinity, red icon of might,
Rose of Power with thy diamond halo piercing the night!

Ablaze in the will of the mortal, design the wonder of thy plan, Image of Immortality, outbreak of the Godhead in man.

Rose of God, smitten purple with the incarnate divine Desire,
Rose of Life, crowded with petals, colour's lyre!
Transform the body of the mortal like a sweet and magical rhyme;
Bridge our earthood and heavenhood, make deathless the children of Time.

Rose of God, like a blush of rapture on Eternity's face,
Rose of Love, ruby depth of all being, fire passion of Grace!
Arise from the heart of the yearning that sobs in Nature's abyss:
Make earth the home of the Wonderful and life beatitude's kiss.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: Rose of God

And on October 31, Lakshmi Puja day, she came down to distribute this message to all:

Mother divine, thou art with us, each day thou givest me that assurance, and closely united in an identification that grows more and more integral, more and more constant, we turn to the Lord of the universe and to That which is beyond in a great aspiration towards the New Light.

On each Puja day the Mother wore a sari and crown or bandeau to suit the occasion. On Durga Puja day, for instance, she dressed in a red sari. On the Puja days of Mahalakshmi, Mahakali, and Mahasaraswati her attire corresponded to the particular quality and power of the specific goddess.

01 November 1955

I rose early on November 1st. It was my spiritual birthday as decided by the Mother—it was the anniversary of my first meeting with her.

The weather had undergone a change. In place of the paralysing heat, a less warm period had set in. Pondicherry, to my experience, never has a cool season.

The Mother met me in the Meditation Hall upstairs. She wore a delicate pastel-coloured gown with a flimsy knee-length smock over it. She had covered her head with a matching veil. Her delicate French perfume enhanced her personality.

With a dazzling smile she welcomed me and wished me "Bonne Fête". Her eyes were tender with love as she handed me a bouquet of beautiful flowers. Then she looked deeper into my eyes for quite some time.

Afterwards she pointed to the small room opposite where she was sitting, and said:

When Sri Aurobindo was in his body, he and I used to sit over there and give darshan to devotees. Come with me into Sri Aurobindo's room and receive his blessings also, for he is always present among us.

She held my right hand and led me into his own chamber, which was marvellously peaceful. I sank to my knees and prostrated myself reverently before his bed. A huge wave of Divine Peace engulfed me. The Mother stood very close to me, indrawn. My mind fell silent in Their Presence.

After some time we returned to the Hall. Mother seated herself again and meditated for a while. Finally she stood up, kissed me lightly on my brow, opened the door which led to the staircase and bade me au revoir.

In the afternoon I had the pleasure of seeing her once more in the Prosperity Room, where she was distributing flowers to everyone with her blessings.

That day the Mother made a remark about me to Vasudha, who reported it as: "Huta has a childlike nature".

I noted it down, but did not feel quite sure about the last word. Could it have been "soul" instead of "nature"? I wrote to the Mother, praying for clarification. She decided the issue:

I do not remember what I have said or even if I have said something. But if I said anything it could have been only a childlike nature, because the soul has always the pure simplicity of a child but at the same time it has the patient endurance given by experience and eternity.

Perhaps that is why the outer "me" was so frequently assaulted by the anti-divine forces—lest it should be swiftly taken over by the soul. The outer "me" unfortunately did not know how to check itself and thus fell easy prey to the forces that oppose Truth and Love.

Subtle fears, doubts and disbelief blurred my vision. I could not observe things in the right perspective. Yet even this "me" was unceasingly reaching out to its Mother and calling for her help.

Yes, she gave me a new birth in the spirit, and the whole being had to grow exactly according to her Will. Yet I felt that I still had to confront and surmount the most difficult and dangerous phases in my life, before the conscious and concrete union with the Supreme Lord would be achieved.

Many a time something inside me stirred and welcomed the change of consciousness. Often I turned my thoughts away from the easy path that the majority of human beings tread. A number of times I could persuade my mind to trust the Mother's Force and be sure of Its final Victory.

But it was not easy to keep my steps always steady on the spiritual path. Suggestions were constantly hovering in the atmosphere, and would descend on me unexpectedly. I was not knowledgeable about spiritual matters—I could not distinguish chalk from cheese. And a gigantic inferiority complex swallowed me up.

05 November 1955

Laxmi K. Patel (now married) became my friend. She is proficient in handicrafts and made dainty things for the Mother.

One day we were engaged in a light-hearted chat, when suddenly Laxmi switched to a serious subject and expressed her view about the spiritual life. She said, "You see, highly educated and intellectual people are very useful in this life. They can easily perceive and grasp the occult truths. They can spontaneously co-operate in the Divine's work. Eventually they reach their goal. The Mother favours these people and loves them immensely. We are just zeros beside these highbrows."

I was too credulous. But I did put up some defence, saying, "Look my dear, since we have been accepted by the Mother, how can we be zeros? Alas! If I could only learn to unite with the Divine, I would gain everything, wouldn't I? But how, when the hostile forces attack me all the time?"

Then she started telling me all sorts of harrowing stories of the nether world which left me stupefied, stunned and shivering. My bright spirits were dimmed in an instant. My mind strayed in a thousand different directions. When I returned to my room I felt totally drained, physically, mentally and emotionally.

I wrote a letter to the Mother about this conversation.

That night was a nightmare. I could not sleep. I opened a book and tried to read, but could not absorb a single word—I had to give up. Eventually I fell into a disturbed slumber.

The following morning I received this letter from the Mother:

My dear child,

Your answer was quite good. No child of mine can be a zero; in fact each one of my children has his or her place and special mission to fulfill. I love them all equally and do for each one what is truly needed for his or her welfare and progress, without any preference or partiality.

The knowledge I promised you is not any superficial knowledge of philosophy, science or art, it is the knowledge of the Divine and of the way to unite with the Divine—This is the only knowledge worth having, and you are right in telling so.

As for the attacks, it is a long standing affair and it may not be easy to make them stop at once—but one day they will have to cease—and meanwhile they can be made shorter and less acute, by keeping faith in my promesse and calling for my help that is always available.

My love and blessings are with you.

The Mother

06 November 1955

She had added a note in French:

Ma chere enfant,

Je recois a l'instant ta joli boite avec le joli voile vert et ta lettre qui est si gentille et si bien &rite. Tout cela m'a fait grand plaisir, et je m'empresse de to le dire sur la reponse que je venais de t'ecrire a ta lettre de ce matin.

Je t'embrasse tres tendrement et t'envoie mes benedictions.

6.11.55

My dear child,

I have just this instant received your lovely box with the lovely green veil and your letter which is so nice and so well written. I was delighted with it all and I hasten to tell you so on the reply I have just written to your letter of this morning.

I kiss you tenderly and send you my blessings.

Yes, I had made the veil for her. Some flower-motifs were stitched on to make it more attractive.

In the evening I showed the Mother's letter to Laxmi, who was pleased with it. I told her that after all we were not cyphers!

I was much impressed by Laxmi when she spoke about handicrafts, or the splendour of Nature.

I cannot forget one incident which occurred late one evening when she and I were standing just inside the Ashram gate. Above our heads was a bower of thickly spread creepers; a few flowers peeped shyly out from the curtain of tendrils. Laxmi touched one of the tendrils and said enthusiastically, "Look at the beautiful curves that Nature creates. Isn't She a great artist? One likes to feel Nature's touch."

She started caressing the tendril. But to our horror it turned out to be the curved green tail of a chameleon! We suppressed our cries and moved away quickly without a backward glance. What if she had pulled the "tendril"!

I said with concern, "Laxmi, you shouldn't have touched the creeper at this unearthly hour." She answered, "Yes Huta, you are right. Now my fingers are burning and itching. I must dash home and apply some cream."

When I got to my room I had to laugh out loud, remembering the expression on Laxmi's face: a mixture of fear, perplexity, courage and more.

08 November 1955

I was still striking the wrong note. My mind was full of rubbish that gave me a throbbing headache.

My knowledge about the Divine Life was nil. I could not even follow what the Mother said in her French classes, whereas others talked and debated about spirituality with ease.

I heard one of the Mother's talks being discussed by some people. Eagerly I asked them what she had said. They simply cut me off. Tears of humiliation gathered in my eyes. I turned my face and walked away. I was over-sensitive and had an exaggerated sense of my deficiencies. In this frame of mind, how could I accept the Mother's word as infallible?

Added to everything else, she had warned me:

As for the attacks, it is a longstanding affair.

My conscious mind fiercely opposed the adverse forces. But at the same time I felt there was no hope, no bright future for me, so long as this wild whirl of suggestions lasted. Again I fell back into despair.

In the ordinary life I had failed to acquire a higher education, because of unfavourable circumstances. Nevertheless I was aware of my longing for something exceptional—something entirely different from what most people search for in the world. So I was not contented with my life.

Many scriptures state that if God wishes to open a gate of spirituality for certain souls, He creates adverse circumstances for them. When God bestows His Grace on a soul, He introduces it to a true Guide. God gives not wealth but wisdom.

The Mother revealed the truth to me:

8.11.55

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 fulfill 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.

That was it! But I could not convince myself of this fact. The goal seemed too distant—almost unreachable. My multitudinous shortcomings seemed to block my way. I told myself repeatedly not to be disheartened when snags cropped up—I must have patience. But where was it? I was like the man who prayed "Dear God, I pray for patience, and I want it this minute."

08 November 1955

The Mother's loving care, both materially and spiritually, continued. She wrote:

8.11.55

My dear little child,

When I said to send you a letter pad from Prosperity, it was not because I disapproved of your writing on a note book sheet to me—it was quite all right and I have no objection—it is because I was not sure you are receiving from Prosperity the things you need, and I wanted you to know that you can get from there whatever is necessary.

So far I had been using things which my sister-in-law Manjula had brought for me. Now I received my requirements from Prosperity.

I learnt to economise in everything. For example I would preserve the small unusable remnants of Lux bath-soap and stick them together to make a bigger piece that could be used further. As a general rule we received our requirements on the first of each month. My long hair needed a lot more soap than was usually given. When I ran short in the course of the month, I requested Maniben to spare me something. She only had washing soap, so I would use a piece of that: what a contrast to the beauty-products I had been accustomed to in Africa!

I took my meals in the General Dining Room. Dyuman was kind enough to accompany me there for some time. The Mother once asked him whether I had any difficulty with the food. He replied that I had none, and it was true.

Here I may recount an example of the way the Mother worked on our habits and desires. In Africa I had a special liking for sweet corn (maize). I could eat it endlessly, and there was a constant supply of it, for our family had several kitchen gardens where maize was grown throughout the year.

The Mother used to distribute eatables, such as potato-wafers, groundnuts, toffees or sweets, in the Playground each evening. One evening I saw to my delight that she was distributing sweet corn. My mouth simply watered. As I moved nearer to her in the queue, my gaze was rivetted on the delicious stuff. When I reached her she looked at me intently, then took my hand and said,

Child, you seem to have a slight fever. Your hand is rather warm. Take a blessing packet from me and you will be all right.

My face can be imagined! Instead of the sweet corn I got the blessing packet. But indeed, this was a stupendous Grace. For immediately my hankering dropped away and never returned.

Maniben was close behind me in the line. Knowing my preference, and seeing my plight, she offered to share her portion with me. But I refused. I felt that the Mother had done something in me to help me surmount my petty desire. Not only was it obliterated, but all specific taste in matters of food was taken away, so that I really began to eat merely to sustain my body. This was truly a miracle, performed by a small packet of flower-petals surcharged with the Mother's Force.

About the power of her blessings she has stated:

My blessings are very dangerous. They cannot be for this one or for that one or against this person or against that thing. It is for ... or, well, I will put it in a mystic way:

It is for the Will of the Lord to be done, with full force and power. So it is not necessary that there should always be a success. There might be a failure also, if such is the Will of the Lord. And the Will is for progress, I mean the inner progress. So whatever will happen will be for the best.

She also said,

There are some petals, flower petals, inside, but they are charged with force, and if you keep them upon you, the contact with me is kept. So if you refer inside, you can establish the contact and even have an answer.

Undated?

I recall some features of my early years among my large family, to whom I had been extremely attached.

Our whole family lived together in one place at that time. Our houses were on mountainous ground, about 3000 ft. above sea level. Three miles away, on a lower level, were thousands of acres of sugar-cane plantations. My father and my four brothers owned sugar mills.

From my parents' house at night I could see the faraway lights of the mills—I had the impression of a vast dark sea with a huge ship on it in the distance. This imaginary vessel took my breath away. There was a moment of silence and serenity as I contemplated the panoramic view of the mills and the expanse of sugar-cane fields, with lights twinkling on them here and there.

This estate was known as Miwani—in the local African language it means "sugar". The climate was temperate, and the site was a little paradise on earth with rippling and gurgling brooks, tall swaying eucalyptus trees, a profusion of smiling flowers, chirping birds and charming animals.

I have two sisters, one older and one younger—both married. All our brothers were older than us, and married. Now the second, third and fourth have passed away. There are quite a number of nephews and nieces. Now they too have children.

My parents were most lovable, simple and straightforward. My mother was precise and meticulous in everything and had a very developed aesthetic sense. Up to the age of 93 she was always very active doing things for others. She went out of her way to help so many people, who now remember and appreciate her noble and generous nature. She passed away on August 1, 1987.

I left them all for the Ashram. Sometimes I would experience acute homesickness and loneliness. Then happy memories and recollections of painful years would sweep through my heart. Most people in the Ashram had families and friends with them, while I was quite alone.

My days passed like unsettled weather: one day I was in sunshine, the next shrouded in gloomy clouds, as I swung from one mood to another.

In the afternoons I usually went to the tennis court to watch the Mother play. I have seen an early photograph of her, taken in 1912 in France, as she was playing tennis. She has said about it:

I remember I learnt to play tennis when I was eight years old—it was a passion. But I never wanted to play with my little comrades, because I learnt nothing (usually I used to defeat them); I always went to the best players; at times they looked surprised, but in the end they used to play with me—I never won, but I learnt much.

I would sit very close to the court. Time and again I captured her swift beaming smile and her shining glance.

Sometimes, after she had left for the Playground, I would go and sit on the sandy beach. The ocean waves splashed upon it. I would dribble sand through my fingers and concentrate on the vastness of the sea, and forget myself for a time.

The water glittered in the sun, a whiff of salt water and fish was in my nostrils—the salty air was invigorating.

14 November 1955

November 14th was Kali Puja day. The Mother wore a black sari painted in glinting multi-colours with a touch of bright gold. She distributed a message in the form of a card with a packet of pomegranate flower petals (The Divine's Love) attached to it. The inscription was in French. Later it was translated like this:

Long ago, very long ago, in the desert land that is now Arabia, a divine being incarnated on earth to awaken it to the Supreme Love. As one would expect, he was persecuted by his assailants; he wished to die alone, quietly, so that his work might be accomplished; and pursued by them he fled. Suddenly in the broad barren plain, a tiny bush of pomegranate appeared. The Saviour stole under its low branches in order to give up his body in peace; and at once the bush expanded miraculously, increased itself, widened, became deep and luxuriant in such a way that when the pursuers passed by they did not even suspect that the One whom they were chasing was hidden there and they continued on their way. While drop by drop the sacred blood fell, fertilizing the soil, the bush covered itself with marvellous flowers, scarlet, enormous—clusters of petals, innumerable drops of blood ...

These are the flowers that, for us, express and hold the Divine Love.

About this flower the Mother has also explained:

Yesterday morning I distributed petals of "Divine Love". The previous night was the darkest of the year and in India it is a great festival. Its true significance is that the Divine's Love is at the base and core of all manifestation, even where it seems most completely inconscient.

During this time Shree Rajendra Prasad the then President of India came to the Ashram and met the Mother. She gave this message to him on 15.11.55:

India must rise to the height of her mission and proclaim the Truth to the world.

Undated?

Sometimes I missed the Balcony Darshan. But whenever I stood on the street below, the Mother's Light and Force pierced every obscure niche of my being.

Nevertheless, soon after, the hostile forces would rear up and strike me as hard as they could. These invisible forces were so deceptive and obdurate—they were determined to trap me and topple me.

In physical terms the process of assault was strange. I felt that they entered from my toes, then gradually moved up towards my heart, spreading their crushing vibration. Finally they would reach my head, leaving me totally shattered.

During an attack, it was as if something were creeping up my body, causing a shuddering unease and a sense of helplessness before an element that was tangible, dreadful, unidentified. My limbs seemed to weigh me down like lead—they were out of control, paralysed. I kept trembling and perspiring with an increasing feeling of weakness. These parasites sapped every bit of my vitality. I would slump down into my arm-chair or on my bed and shut my eyes. I could not move. I was seized by a living terror. I felt I was dead, but my mind remained active—packed with jostling, fretful entities, anxieties, fears—some real, some fantasies, a few recognized, others alien, and the rest sheer imagination. My head would spin, and I felt it would burst.

It took an interminable time for my exhausted mind to struggle back to consciousness. The sense of sickness and swooning affected my whole constitution. My sceptical mind never became placid, silent—it settled into blankness. Everything seemed disoriented.

16 November 1955

On the morning of November 16th I was not present at the Balcony Darshan. The Mother wrote to me:

My dear little child,

I did not see you at "Balcony" this morning—and just I had put on the nice green veil you have given me, thinking that you would be glad to see it on my head.

I hope you are all right.

With my love and blessings.

No, I was not all right. I was engulfed in surging waves of dejection, despondency, disappointment and depression. The attacks told on my nerves. I wept bitterly. I felt that life had little purpose for me now—it was as if those dire suggestions were compelling me to abandon the spiritual life.

I informed the Mother of all that I had been going through.

I begged her forgiveness for failing to respond to her Grace and Love. She answered:

16.11.55

My dear little child,

There is nothing to forgive—you are the first victim.

As I told you already, it is an adverse force that is harrassing you and wants to hurt you, and to take all peace and joy away from you. This force must leave you and go far away so that you can become quiet and happy.

Meanwhile, continue to call me for help, and surely one day we shall succeed in sending this nasty enemy away.

With my love and blessings.

I questioned her,

What is the meaning of "victim" here? Does it mean a sacrifice?

She replied:

I did not mean it in the sense of sacrifice, but as one says of somebody, "he is the victim of a malady."

These attacks fall upon you like an illness and you become their victim.

The following morning, to my amazement and pleasure, the Mother wore that same green veil once more. Ordinarily she would never use the same thing again on successive days—only after some time. She saw me there at the Balcony Darshan. Our eyes met for a second, and I felt much better.

Undated?

In the room just beyond the one next to mine, an American lady kept opening and shutting the sliding doors with a loud noise. It was awfully irritating. I would wake up with a start, and dig my fingers in my ears, as if waiting for a thunder clap. It disturbed my sleep, my reading, or anything else I was doing. I was always on edge, expecting this explosion—I was not used to any kind of noise. These alarming bangs got on my overwrought nerves.

I endured it for a long time, but eventually I reported my problem to the Mother. Her answer came:

You did quite well in informing me of your difficulty—you must always tell me everything, knowing that I can understand you.

I heard, indeed, that Golconde is a rather noisy place, and that is why I had thought of removing you to another house. But I have not seen myself this new house of which I was thinking, and I sent Dyuman to see it. He tells me that he does not think it is a suitable house for you. Therefore I am trying to lessen the noise in Golconde, and you can, perhaps, remain there for some time more, until I can make the proper arrangement for you.

Hoping that things will become better.

I was stunned, for I had never given the slightest thought to this subject, never mentioned to her about any house. However I left the matter entirely to her.

In this context, I should add what the Mother told me from the occult point of view. She said that she would go into a trance and observe the difficulties of which I had spoken. On several occasions she applied this method: she got a direct inner perception of the situation and abolished the obstacles.

Now gradually the noise became less and less. Moreover I requested the lady to place swabs of cotton wool between the two sliding doors. Whatever the disturbance she unintentionally caused, I liked her—she was a nice person. And if Lee Russell had not made that noise, the Mother might not have thought of giving me an independent flat in "HUTA HOUSE" named by the Mother. So perhaps she became an instrument in the accomplishment of the Mother's plan.

Many apparently insignificant occurrences have significant effects in the end. For instance, Dyuman told me many years later that at first the Mother had thought of giving me work in her own kitchen and letting me cook her own food. So she asked him whether I knew how to cook. He replied that from my face he had some doubt of my ever having handled the job.

When he told me this I was much amused and laughed merrily. The Mother must have evoked this reply from Dyuman and cleared the path to my future, from the practical point of view, so that my life assumed a new purpose and a new meaning.

If I had worked in the Mother's kitchen, perhaps The Story of a Soul would never have been written; the paintings of Savitri, guided by the Mother, would not have come into being, under the title of Meditations on Savitri. There would perhaps have been no tape-recording of the Mother's recitations of selected passages from the whole of Savitri, which correspond with the paintings. Further, the Mother's reading of Savitri in unbroken sequence, with accompanying comments, tape-recorded by me, would never have been made and appeared along with my paintings as About Savitri. Neither would there have been the paintings of Sri Aurobindo's poems, and other visionary paintings. The book White Roses (which on 15th February 1982 won a National Award for "excellence in printing and designing of books") might never have been written by the Mother, and many other books which are the very essence of truth and containing the Mother's teaching, of great spiritual value to the whole of humanity, as well as so many other treasures given by the Mother, might never have come into existence. There would have been no slides of Meditations on Savitri, nor the video-cassettes of it which have now been released by Michel Klostermann of Germany.

The mystery of the Mother's working is profound and incalculable.

Sri Aurobindo has written in Savitri:

All was the working of an ancient plan,
A way prepared by an unerring Guide. ||99.14||

These lines from Shelley flash to my mind:

Mother of this unfathomable world,
Favour my solemn song.
I have loved Thee ever, and Thee only;
I have watched Thy shadow,
And the darkness of Thy steps
And my heart ever gazes
On the depth of Thy deep mysteries.

24 November 1955

On 24.11.55—The Realisation Day—in the morning the Mother distributed the following message:

How shall ascending Nature near her goal?
    Not through man's stumbling tardy intellect
    Straining the powers around it to detect
But by the surer vision of his soul.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Ways of the Spirit - I

An algebra of mind, a scheme of sense,
    A symbol language without depth or wings,
    A power to handle deftly outward things
Is our poor booty of intelligence;

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Ways of the Spirit - II

The Truth is greater and asks deeper ways.
    A sense that gathers all into one being,
    A close and luminous touch, an intimate seeing,
A Thought flung free from the world's daedal maze,

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Ways of the Spirit - I

A heart of calm in sympathy with all,
A will one pointed wide imperial.

Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems: The Ways of the Spirit - I

Undated?

I could not confide in anybody about the problems and struggles that beset me on every side. Only the Mother knew how I was living on the edge of a precipice, pulled this way and that by conflicting forces. My temper would flare up in an instant, and then subside to leave me regretting it the next moment—so unpredictable, so uncertain. I cursed my own helplessness and weakness, and the people who seemed to take advantage of my state so cynically. I was always imagining that people were trying to humiliate me. As a defence against their jeering, my pride made me brusque.

I was obsessed by a strange and frightful premonition of vicious spirits. I tried to cast them out of my consciousness, but still they haunted me—vague yet horrifying spectres—almost round the clock.

In this frame of mind I wrote to the Mother—no reply! I became miserable, impatient, and wrote again to remind her. She answered:

I always answer immediately even when I am too busy to write my answer. I answered by sending my Love and Force, my Courage to resist and my protection against the bad attack. You have only to keep quiet inside—push away all fear, as much as you can, and to trust my force and protection so that they can work fully.

We must and we will conquer, even if we have to fight it again and again. I am never discouraged and ask you also not to be—because the Divine's final Victory is certain.

30 November 1955

It was the last day of November. I was eager to have an interview with the Mother. She wrote:

My dear little child,

My love, my help, my protection and my strength are always with you.

As soon as circumstances will allow, I shall call you and give you a little time physically.

With my blessings.

So I had to wait patiently—but my patience was wearing thin!

02 December 1955

Letters from my family were a relief in my lonely hours.

My third brother Paroobhai, who was very enthusiastic about aeroplanes, wrote to the Mother about taking up flying. She replied:

Tell him to do according to his wish and my blessings are with him.

He did learn to fly, and later had his own small aircraft. He was a very good photographer, and his love of gardening was reflected in his collection of rare rose-plants. He was a hard-working person.

Then a letter came from Laljibhai, asking for a picture of the Mother's symbol, as he wanted to get it made in brass in England. On December 2, the Mother wrote to me:

2.12.55

My dear little child, I am sending you two copies of the symbol. On one symbol I have explained the meaning,

My love and blessings.

Here is the correct design of the symbol.

The central circle represents the Supreme Mother, the Mahashakti. The four central petals are the four aspects of the Mother—and the twelve petals, Her twelve attributes.

It was still raining. The dance-drama "The Story of India's Spiritual Destiny", directed by the Mother, was supposed to be staged on December 1st, but torrential rain made it impossible. Instead we saw it on the 3rd, despite a steady drizzle. It was a magnificent composition: Spiritual light, the creation of the world, Gods and Goddesses, emanations, avatars; at the end Sri Aurobindo's photograph was displayed, accompanied by recitations from Savitri. Later I came across the brochure of this drama, and found at the end these lines from Savitri:

Ascend from Nature to divinity's heights;
Face the high Gods crowned with felicity,
Then meet a greater God, thyself beyond Time.

The Mother kept her promise—she saw me in the Interview Room, and spoke to me about the general meditation she was going to give: she asked me to attend it. I was puzzled about where I should sit. She wrote:

Just now I received your note; it is about the meditation I give on 5th December at 9.30 in the morning. I said to reserve a place in the upstairs Meditation Hall for you. It is there that I sit myself on my chair. If you come early you can sit at the place you choose.

In spite of being early, I found the room crowded. People stared at me and I felt nervous. It seemed too daring to sit near the Mother's chair, so I took my seat a little away from it, against a wall.

The Mother entered the Hall, in a snow-white gown with a fine white smock over it and a matching veil over her head. Her face was sombre. It was the fifth anniversary of the day on which Sri Aurobindo had left his body. She sat facing across the long Meditation Hall the small room where She and the Lord used to give darshan to visiting devotees and the Ashramites. This small room was kept just as it had been, except that now on the big divan there was a huge photograph of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, showing how they had sat side by side to bestow their blessings on all.

We all meditated for half an hour. During the meditation, I opened my eyes frequently to look at her. She was concentrating with her eyes wide open and sparkling like diamonds. Her unblinking gaze was directed at the photograph in the room opposite. It was an invocation. Her Light filled the Hall. Although at that time I understood nothing, I witnessed the unusual atmosphere.

Undated?

My outer problems and inner struggles persisted. The Mother showed great concern about my welfare. I felt it was absurd to ask her for material things, even though I needed them. At the same time I was hesitant to inform my family about my requirements—even though I received many letters from them regarding this matter. I had a notion that since I had dedicated my life to the Divine I must live ascetically and prove myself a true sadhika: if I wrote to my family about material needs, the Mother would be displeased, and I would fail to reach my goal. But she cleared my mind:

Certainly you can write to your mother and ask from her whatever you need; and when your brother comes you can explain to him the whole situation and ask him to give you all you require—I have absolutely no objection to it and wish to let you be quite free in your movements.

My love is always with you and my blessings also.

Even so, I still restrained myself from writing to my mother and brother.

09 December 1955

December 9th—on this day in 1950 the rosewood casket bearing Sri Aurobindo's body had been laid to rest in the Samadhi-vault.

The Mother in her white dress sat on a chair in the verandah downstairs, facing the Samadhi. Along with other people I sat on a mat in the space between the Mother and the Samadhi.

The scene was entrancingly peaceful. Fragrant flowers and incense scented the air. The warbling birds and cool caressing breeze were soothing. I drank in the tranquil beauty.

Then I turned back to get a glimpse of the Mother. I saw her eyes fixed on the Samadhi, contemplating it deeply and ardently.

I tried to go within myself for a while. Then my eyes suddenly opened on a most amusing and thrilling sight: two squirrels rapidly descended from the Service Tree and boldly ate some flowers they fancied upon the Samadhi—they were in a playful mood and daintily munched the flower-cores.

That night once more memories of my family awoke, and again I sank into the depths of distress. Emotion overwhelmed me, frightening me with its intensity. Attachment brought unwilling tears to my eyes.

Again my brain seethed with a jumble of thoughts. I did not feel happy about staying in Golconde for free. I had given away all my possessions; now I had no right to ask anything from my family—yet I wished to offer something to the Mother occasionally. Many a time I wondered what the future might hold for me. I felt very lonely. And I was stupid enough not to have full faith in the Mother's assurances. My mind could hardly think reasonably.

The dark forces assailed me in both repulsive and attractive forms. It was not easy for me to call for the Mother's help and to receive her response inwardly, because I became absolutely blind and deaf under the spell of those misleading influences. Nevertheless my true self aspired for the perfection of the whole being.

These sophist forces put strong suggestions into my mind that this Integral Yoga was exceedingly difficult, that I had no aptitude for it and would be hopelessly defeated, so I should give up all idea of realising the Divine. They invariably, unfailingly, showed up all my defects, using any circumstance that suited them. I believed them because I found myself in unsympathetic surroundings, and suffered from an acute sense of my deficiencies. I felt desperate and wanted to go far away. The Mother answered my letter:

I cannot keep you against your will. I only ask you not to do anything rash and to take a decision only when you are quiet.

Meanwhile you can write to your mother and tell her what you want to do.

My love and help are always with you, but as you say you cannot feel them, obviously they cannot be of much use.

No, my soul was reluctant to accept this and to leave the Ashram. I could faintly feel its vibrations. But I was rent by the fierce conflict between my two beings—inner and outer.

I felt that I could not make myself clear to the Mother—my feelings remained unexplained. This psychological struggle was like a hell-fire burning me ruthlessly.

On December 11 the Mother consoled me:

I am so sorry that again and again you have to suffer so much. I want you to be happy and in good health and my love never leaves you.

Yet again my family wrote, asking whether I wished to have anything. I informed the Mother. She suggested:

You did quite well to write to me what these people told you. In answer you can write to them that personally you need nothing, but the work being done in the Ashram is a very big work and a lot of money is required for it. So if they feel like sending you something you will be glad to offer it to me on their behalf.

With my love and blessings.

So with her approval I wrote to my people.

17 December 1955

The days passed, but the state of my mind did not improve. I was perturbed by people's remarks. For example, I was told bluntly that if I was unable to provide money to the Mother, I should work very hard. This statement stupefied me. What strenuous labour could I do to prove myself a hard worker? I was already doing what was asked of me.

Moreover I sensed that for some time I was being treated differently by many people.

Then the Mother seemed like a stranger to me—she was no longer mine. I lost my trust, love, devotion, everything. I felt hesitant to approach her or ask her anything. This feeling touched me very deeply—tears rushed to my eyes. The demand for "hard work" was to be considered—and where was I to get money?

I convinced my mind that all these happenings were too trivial to cause me such pangs of anxiety. But I sensed that what these people had said was not without significance. So I wrote to the Mother. She made me understand:

17.12.55

My dear little child,

I am very sorry that some people have told you so much nonsense. It is their own way of seeing things, but it is not true and you must not believe them or take any decision on such silly talk.

I have told you to ask from me whatever you need and I shall happily give it to you. I am your true Mother and you must feel free with me.

As for the work you are doing for me, whenever you have finished something and it is ready for giving, you have only to let me know and I will call you in the morning to give it.

With my love and blessings.

I expressed my view to her:

My sweet Mother,

Thank you for your compassionate letter.

I thought that everybody in the Ashram are demigods and goddesses. How wrong I am and how totally perplexed.

Love,

Yours,
Huta

She soon responded:

17.12.55

My dear little child

The world is as it is—full of smallness and obscurity. The Divine alone is Light and Vastness, Truth and Compassion. So take refuge in the Divine and do not care for the smallness of the world, do not let it disturb you.

Keep only the Divine Presence in you with its peace and quietness. With my love and blessings.

I wrote to her that I was hers—now and forever. She was my sole refuge and I relied on her. She affirmed:

You have taken the right attitude—it is quite good. You have only to keep it with perseverance and you will surely progress on the way.

19 December 1955

I needed a file to keep the Mother's letters in, and a diary to jot down what she told me verbally.

She sent them to me with a note saying:

I am sending you a file and a diary with quotations from Sri Aurobindo.

Next week I shall give another diary with quotations from me.

Always happy when you ask for what you need.

With my love and blessings.

I wrote her a letter of thanks. In return I was glad to receive another letter from the Mother:

19.12.55

My dear little child

I have received your nice letter and am sending at once the second diary so that you can begin to write at once. I propose that in one of the diaries (Sri Aurobindo's) you should write daily a prayer, expressing your aspiration, or your gratitude, or your adoration, the progress you want to make. It does not need to be long, only a few lines; and it will help you to understand yourself. You will write as if you were speaking to him and to me directly and thus you will create an intimacy with him and myself. In the other diary you will write as you said.

My love and blessings are always with you.

After that I began writing in the diaries. This was the starting-point on the true path.

22 December 1955

The ascent to the Truth, however, is steep, and there were innumerable tumbles and tempests. By now I had realised full well that this path was not a bed of roses.

All the time the Mother encouraged me immensely:

My dear child,

Do not give up to the enemy—resist—I am with you for the fight and we must conquer.

I believed that the obscure phases were over. But I was mistaken—those subtle currents were still at work. It was not an open fight, but something occult.

Those hostile attacks gave me a shuddering sensation in the pit of the stomach, and hit hard to shatter my sensitive nerves. The devil was always there to play his hand.

I wanted very much to meet the Mother alone and talk to her frequently. On the other hand, I was scared to go to her, because a weird kind of fear gripped me and intercepted me. I was tugged first one way and then the other. I was mystified. Tears of frustration hazed my eyes. I became more and more aware of both inward and outward loneliness, for which I could find no solution.

On December 22nd the Mother wrote:

Yesterday I had prepared an answer to your letter but it was somewhat severe and when I was to send it I felt pity and thought why not wait until tomorrow, things may become better.

Now I have received your today's letter and though I am sorry to see that this very nasty influence is still upon you the clouds seem to lift a little, and I can write.

One thing you must know, that it is the Enemy of the Divine, the Force that is hostile to all divine realisation, that gives you this fear to see me and wants to keep you away from me.

I may not be able to give you as much time as you wish me to give you, but on your side you must not miss the opportunities given to you to meet me—one word, one contact, one glance can be deeply useful to clear your atmosphere and protect you against the adverse forces—these enemies know it and that is why they are trying to keep you away from me. Do not listen to them.

In the evening I attended her translation class. The tension was relieved.

Undated?

I wrote a letter to the Mother about my state and also about the things I received from my mother. She answered:

"I received you letter and am glad that you are feeling better. Keep the things your mother has sent you and use them—otherwise she would be sorry. There is surely no harm in using them as they have been sent with good will for you.

On my side, I find that quite all right and if you can have things you need I shall be glad for it.

My love and blessings are and will always be with you.

My mother had sent all my things, including the marble idol of Radha which I used to worship. Also lots of books: Ramakrishna, Vivekananda, some sanskrit books, Gandhi, Tagore, Saratchandra Chatterji, Kakasaheb Kalelkar, K.M. Munshi, the poets Kalapi, Meghani and other great men and women. There were two books I cherished most. In my girlhood I often read the Bhagavad Gita, and Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia.

Except for these, I gave all the rest, some of them rare and valuable, to the Sri Aurobindo Library.

I offered to the Mother certain things that were too beautiful for me, along with the image of Radha.

25 December 1955

25th December—the Christmas tree was decorated and installed in the middle of the Playground. Everyone was gay. The Mother wore a beautiful brocade dress and sat near the tree to distribute gifts to everyone with her love and blessings.

The band played some tunes, and there were songs and entertainments by the school children.

All this was new to me, for we had never had a Christmas tree in our house. Now I was watching, learning and assimilating, trying to perceive the meaning of all this.

The Mother's invocation to Father Christmas:

Father Christmas,
I evoke you today!

Answer our call. Come bearing all your marvellous gifts. You are the great dispenser of worldly possessions; you are the untiring friend who hears every request and grants it generously. Give each one the material object he desires, and as for me, give me enough, give me much so that I may give largely to all.

Undated?

Over and over again I got lost in a wicked world full of pitfalls, snares, and sinister acts of the devil. A chilling fright shook me. The Mother answered my prayers:

With all my love I keep you on my lap. Remain always there and always my arms will be a protection around you so that nothing bad can affect you.

My love and blessings are always with you, be steady and truthful.

Around that time I had a lot of dreams, which I recorded in a notebook. It was sent to the Mother, who would read and comment. Out of five dreams, one was as follows:

Some bad forces came and tried to take me to the nether world. They held me captive and began to walk. But suddenly I felt in my heart that I could not live without the Mother. I must not go with them. I screamed and called her. Meanwhile she came and gave a severe blow to these pernicious beings and took her seat in my heart. Then I fixed my gaze on them. They fled.

On the account of all the dreams, the Mother remarked:

Very good dreams indeed.

27 December 1955

In answer to a query from me the Mother revealed the significance of red and white lotuses:

27.12.55

My dear little child,

The red lotus represents Sri Aurobindo, the white one represents me.

In a general way the lotus is the flower of the Divine Wisdom, whatever is its colour. But red it signifies the Avatar, the Divine incarnated in matter, and white it signifies the Divine Consciousness manifested upon earth.

Stand firm against the recurring attacks, my strength is fighting with you.

With my love and blessings.

If her strength had not fought along with me against the stubborn satanic powers I would not have remained here. Why here? As a matter of fact, I would have met my doom long ago. For these forces were not feeble or ordinary but terribly potent, cold-blooded, cruel and lethal.

The Mother alone was there for me.

I knew that at times I was very childish—something I must not be. I confessed it to her. She replied promptly:

Be freely childish with me and do not worry. It is always my love that receives your letters and if I am too busy (like yesterday) to answer your letter by writing, my love goes always to you to help and comfort you.

Gradually I was becoming more conscious, and beginning to scan my imperfections and their causes; but it is not an easy thing to convert the physical nature. To get release from the Wheel of Universal Nature was a herculean task, I thought. Human nature does not pause, it goes on and on: it consists of numberless elements both old and new. It draws on past lives as well as on present circumstances, situations and environments. In my childhood and girlhood I was given everything, but no true education of my physical, mental and vital parts. That was the main reason for me meeting with hideous difficulties now. I tried hard to check myself, but it was not always easy.

I wondered whether I had made any progress at all towards my goal. The Mother assured me:

Do not worry, you are progressing, little by little you will become fully conscious of yourself.

I gave a sigh of relief.

Undated?

I received the following letter from the Mother:

You can write to your brother that I shall be glad to see him with your father also. But if it is not convenient for them to come in February, let them come at the end of March (to be here for the 29) and stay in April up to the 24th. It is a good moment for coming. I send them my love and blessings, and hope that all will be all right for them.

Sweet little child, I am with you.

So much meaning was held in those words, "I am with you." The Mother has explained the deeper meaning of it:

...if for some reason you write to me asking for my help and I answer "I am with you", it means that the communication with you becomes active, you come into my active consciousness for a time, for the time necessary.

And this tie between you and me is never cut.

30 December 1955

Now at last I got down to writing to my father and Laljibhai:

My dear father,

I was glad to receive your letter. Please do write to me again.

It was kind of you to have asked my opinion about opening an account for me in one of the Pondicherry banks. But I don't really know what to say. Kindly ask the Mother when you and Laljibhai come here.

My mother has written the same. I do appreciate and understand her feeling. I assure you that I am happy here. The Mother's love and Grace are always with me.

The more you all will recognise the Mother the more will you experience her love and Grace.

I request all of you to believe in the Mother. Our faith in the Divine must be unshakable. Yes, the Divine tests our sincerity.

Whatever we possess belongs to the Divine alone. He has taken responsibility for us. Why fret?

Please remember me to my brothers, sisters-in-law and their children. My love to everyone.

I trust all of you are well. I am quite all right and cheerful. My mother writes to me from Rajkot. She is fine.

I am glad that you will send a draft for Rs. 1,250 regularly.

From Rs. 1,250 you have asked me to take Rs. 250 for my pocket expenses. Thank you very much, father, for your kind consideration.

I was deeply grieved to know about your sister's demise. May God give rest and peace to her soul.

You must come to the Ashram in either April or March along with Laljibhai. The Mother wants you to come. She has said, "It is a good moment for coming." So please do not miss an opportunity given to you all.

With warm regards

Yours affectionately
Huta

Dear brother,

Thank you for your letter and the photographs of the Mother's symbol which I showed her the very day and explained to her all the details of your letter. I gave her the photographs. She liked them and was pleased.

The Mother has asked me to convey this message to you:

"You can write to your brother that I shall be glad to see him with your father also. But if it is not convenient for them to come in February, let them come at the end of March (to be here for the 29th) and stay in April up to the 24th. It is a good moment for coming. I send them my love and blessings. And hope that all will be all right for them."

Brother, I believe she rarely writes like this and when she writes and summons there is a secret meaning behind her action. So all of you must come. Please bring our mother from Rajkot. Do not miss the months which the Mother has indicated. They must be very important spiritually. The Mother will set everything right at Miwani. Please do not be anxious. Pray to the Mother. Kindly persuade our father to come over. He can stay as many days as he likes. Also ask him not to worry about the situation there. I feel strongly within me that all of you will experience the Mother's working—her Grace and Love. She is compassionate. We take refuge in her alone.

The Mother has received the calendar from you and the gifts sent by Paroobhai.

Vasanthbhai has sent some snaps of his room where he has installed the Mother's and Sri Aurobindo's photographs. I sent them to the Mother, who wrote:

"Say to your brother that I like the photographs and send him my love and blessings."

Brother, please convey this message to Vasanthbhai when you telephone him in Jinja. Recently I had written to him, but somehow it slipped out of my mind.

Day by day I have been drawn to an unfathomable ocean of the Mother's Love, which I cannot forget or forego.

I pray to the Mother to lead you all towards her Love.

The Mother is the Truth—the Supreme Mother herself. Her actions are beyond our comprehension. Please don't ever listen to anybody who has no belief in the Divine. Have faith in Him.

Let us all proceed on the path of Truth. Let us have the Mother as our Guide. She will not leave us nor will she mislead us.

I do not know anything beyond this. What else to write?

Hope all of you are fine. I remember you all with love.

Today I have received a letter from our mother. She still worries about my welfare, which she should not do, because I am happy here and very much contented. The Mother takes great care of me. I won't leave her. My place is here.

Please bring our sisters. Usha wrote to me. I have already sent her the Mother's blessing packet. Kindly ask everyone not to worry. The Mother will do the needful.

I have given your messages to Dyuman and Shivabhai Amin.

Finally I thank you all for sending money. I have written to our mother and thanked her for sending my things from Rajkot. I appreciate the good will of you all.

With affectionate remembrance in the Mother's Truth and Love

Huta

On December 30th the Mother sent me a painted card depicting a white bird—the Phoenix, the mythical bird of Arabia—coming out of leaping flames. These elevating lines accompanied it:

30.12.55

Bonjour! My dear little child,

I hope this day will be a good one for you with my love always near you. This is the picture of the soul coming out victoriously from all the ordeals. I want this realisation for you.

My soul silently prayed to the Mother: "Let your will be done."

It was the last day of the year 1955. So much had happened—so much was still to happen. Let us see what 1956 unfolds.