Mother and Me

Introduction

So many people have written about the Mother that perhaps there was no solid reason why I should venture to write about her. But since I came to Pondicherry and was fairly close to her as her attending doctor, I was coaxed by many friends to share some of my memories. I have narrated only a few episodes. There were many others but they have either slipped my memory or are too personal. I have included only those by which I was deeply touched or which I could share with everyone.

Incidentally, when I was reflecting upon the title of this work, my attention was brought to the fact that the phrase “Mother and I” is grammatically correct, not “Mother and Me.” While I agree, I somehow could not refer to myself as “I.” To me, this appears to be a boosting of ego. All my life, I have been struggling to undermine this “I” and convert it into an “i.” To use “I” in the title might be grammatically correct but it does not reflect my inner sentiments!

I know I am an ordinary person with limited understanding and mode of expression. I am neither a yogi nor a mystic. However, whenever I try to meditate on the Mother — instead of her face and eyes which were considered (and no doubt were) most powerful and captivating — I only see her feet. Therefore, maybe my description of her will be biased although I have attempted to see and describe her in an unbiased and forthright manner. Nevertheless, during my contact with her, it was her feet that somehow captivated me more than anything else. I will recount more about this as we go along.

But first, I must tell you how I became the Mother’s doctor. In his book Memorable Contacts with Mother, Dr. Nirodbaran, a sadhak and inmate of the Ashram, and a personal attendant of Sri Aurobindo, writes:

“Last night Dr. Sanyal suggested that if needed, another doctor could be consulted.”

Then the name of Dr. Bisht came to my mind and I said,
“Dr. Bisht could be called.”
Mother asked, “Is he a yogi?”
“I don’t know about that,” I replied, “but he reads your books and Sri Aurobindo’s and he is a good man.”

A few days later, Champaklalji came down from the Mother’s room at 2 A.M. He said that Dr. Bisht of JIPMER hospital was to be called to examine the Mother.

First Darshan

In 1959, I started living at a place called Acharya House on Chetty Street where the main Ashram is located. This housed the Blind People’s Association and Mr. Acharya, who was himself blind, was Secretary of the Association and lived in one of the rooms downstairs. There was a Gujarati family who lived in the other rooms on the ground floor. I rented the upper floor which had three tiny rooms, but it also had a wide terrace, which was a boon in the climate of Pondicherry. The greater boon was that it was close to the main building of the Ashram. Those days the Mother used to give her “Darshan” to the devotees every morning from the balcony of this building.

At that time, my attraction towards the Ashram was mainly by reading material on Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. The writings of Sri Aurobindo were too difficult for me to understand, particularly his book Savitri and The Life Divine, so I left them for a better period of my life when I hoped to become a little more mature. His essays were not so difficult. The Mother’s writings were simple and fantastic. In her simple way, she explained the most intricate of subjects. The added attraction was her Darshan every morning, which I received by standing on the road behind the main building and admiring her wonderful, peaceful and loving countenance.

Now as everyone knows, the Mother used to bless individuals on special occasions. I too desired this “personal” Darshan.

It was 15th August, the birthday of Sri Aurobindo. We lined up in a single file and entered in an extremely peaceful and quiet manner to obtain her blessings. I also went and knelt before her and she laid her hand on my head and blessed me. This was my first encounter. I found an extremely impressive, rather old figure, frail but fairly strong and her deep eyes, looking directly into mine. People, particularly some sadhaks in the Ashram, had told me earlier, “She passes spiritual power through her eyes when she gazes into yours. So do not be surprised and keep looking into her eyes till she herself will indicate that your turn is over.” “Imbibe as much as you can,” was the consistent advice.

Alas, being what I was, although I saw love and attraction, I did not feel the passing of any power or any supernatural feeling. One thing was clear. She had absolutely clear, deep and beautiful eyes; very rarely have I seen (in my medical profession) such lovely eyes at that age. There was only a feeling of benevolence and I was tremendously fascinated.

I came back with a deep sense of respect and a sort of attachment, just like a small child for its mother.

The second Darshan came in December. By this time, I had made many friends in the Ashram. I was their physician and it was natural that we often talked about the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. As always, everyone started getting ready for Darshan.

However, I had been going daily for her Darshan from the balcony. Those days I was the lone senior physician and work often kept me busy from morning till late in the evening or sometimes even at night. That day, I was free. My Ashram friends were surprised that I did not go for this “special” Darshan. They were not happy that I had avoided it and were even annoyed that I missed it, especially since I was free. When asked, I had to explain to them why I had done so.

I asked them, “Do you love Mother?”
They nodded, “Yes.”

“Okay, then sit here, in the chair and move your hand two thousand times. How do you feel now? I cannot be the one to create such a strain for her, my mother. By not going, I am reducing the number of times she has to raise her arm and hand. I can close my eyes and easily imagine seeing her today or else go to the balcony tomorrow and have her Darshan.”

Needless to say they were dumbfounded.
One of them said, “But the Mother likes it. She loves to bless her children!”
Smiling, I told him that he may be right but I strongly felt I was also not wrong.

My Dream

All of us dream. Different reasons and values have been attached to dreams from time to time. Whether you like them or not, dreams do occur. We might forget them; but dream we must. I am not talking of day-dreaming. I am NOT talking about nightmares — which at times haunt us and are the result of overwhelming stress. I am not talking about pleasant dreams of romanticism either which are often about unrequited responses from the world.

I am talking about certain dreams that have a tremendous influence on you. I am talking about dreams which are a foresight, a foreknowledge of things to come. A sort of premonition. It is said that they are usually related to conscious or unconscious fears of events which you do not want to happen. But there are certain dreams which bear no relation to any underlying fears, perhaps unconscious ones, but certainly not any rational ones.

In my case, it happened once around 1962. At that time we were staying a little away from the Ashram since we had to vacate the old house and were obliged to shift. It was there I had a dream in which I saw the Mother. It was a simple dream. It must have been about 3:00 A.M. But it was a dream! I woke my wife and described it to her.

“I saw someone who came to call me urgently to the Ashram because the Mother was not well. And so, I immediately rushed there and went upstairs to the room where she lived. All I remember were her feet! Her bare feet; and on the left foot and part of the leg, I saw a big dark hemorrhagic patch with considerable telangiectasis which often occurs as a result of blockage of circulation and can be very painful. In simple language, a big dark blotch of blood vessels! The moment I touched her feet, I awoke.”

I experienced peculiar sensations in my body for a little while but they disappeared later. However, I could not go back to sleep.

During those days, ‘A’ was the Mother’s secretary. I sought an appointment with him the same evening since it was a bad dream and I was feeling rather uncomfortable! If it was true, then the Mother must be extremely uncomfortable, if not in severe agonising pain. He asked me to come the next day to know the “response from the Mother.” I got a verbal one — nothing in writing — perhaps because I had also not given anything in writing.

The message was clear — I was told that the Mother had smiled and said, “There are good and evil forces which continue to hover around us. What experience you had was the effect of one of the evil forces. But it is transitory and will pass off; there was nothing to worry.” So I forgot the entire episode and tried to put it out of my mind.

Sometime in 1966 (I don’t remember the exact day), I was called by Dr. S. to look at the Mother who had fever and the diagnosis was not clear. This was my first opportunity to physically examine the Mother.

She was so delicate and frail; yet she had great strength and nerves of steel and a super-strong mind. She had developed a kyphosis, and unable to breathe deeply, had developed pulmonary infection and this also affected her urinary system. To my mind, this was her physical ailment. It was nothing serious and the disease was easily treatable. I advised her to take a combination of antibiotics, inhalations, and breathing exercises and she recovered soon thereafter. Nothing very special about it.

But what was important to me was a cheeky scientific inquiry I wanted to conduct. I wanted to know if she had some sort of patch on her leg! So I requested the Mother to show her feet. She was such a simple and accommodating patient, she readily agreed and when her white socks were removed — lo and behold — there were two healthy feet with slightly bent toes. There was no sign of any patch I had seen in my dream. So I put her socks back on and came out. The first thing I told my wife was how stupid I was to have dreamt such a false dream. She did make fun of me about my imagination.

Till then my perception of the Mother was that she was a highly respectable and adorable person. I considered it my sacred duty to see her. It was only later this perception changed. Almost two years later something happened which completely changed my outlook of her.

By this time, I had started visiting her every Wednesday and Saturday in the evenings to be at her bedside. It became a routine. A pleasant routine, since it gave me an opportunity to feel her presence both physically and emotionally, and on many occasions to hear her slow golden bass voice and join her hearty laughter. I was already well established as her doctor-attendant.

It was December 1970. I had returned to my house at JIPMER when I received an intimation that the Mother was not well and I should come immediately.

It was around 11:30 at night when I reached her room and saw she was in agonizing pain. Each attack was followed by a period of abject quiet — she appeared withdrawn as if nothing had happened. She blinked her eyes and responded to my questions. It was clear that she was suffering agonizing pain and was trying to suppress it completely.

I gave her a thorough check-up and to my utter astonishment, I discovered she was getting a pinkish patch on her left leg. It was clear she was developing some sort of obstruction in her femoral vessels (the main blood vessels which carry blood to the lower limbs and return to the heart through a big vein). It was most probably due to thrombosis. If there was a thrombus, I prayed, let it stay there and not pass on to the lungs as it could be fatal. I spent the whole night and part of the next day with her. I treated her with heparin and aspirin. And during the night, a big dark patch appeared on her left leg — exactly as I had dreamt almost eight years earlier! I was shocked to the core and totally spellbound.

Sitting in the corner of her room, tears started rolling from my eyes unconsciously. Then I realized that at some time, somewhere in some world, I must have been her son, mother, father or someone very close, otherwise this could not have happened. How could I dream an event that was destined to take place almost eight years later! By morning her pain had lessened and she did not want to take any further medications and went to sleep.

I returned home feeling peculiar and morose. I realised that our relation had become very close and deep and I surrendered totally to her and considered her as my own mother. This was to bring everlasting pleasure in my life. Was my dream a mere coincidence? I do not know; but for me, it was a truly fascinating and wonderful experience.

Irrespective of what others have written, I normally do not believe in miracles. If I cannot explain a phenomenon on solid scientific basis, I term it as an inexplicable event rather than a miracle. There cannot be an effect without a cause. Even God has not made this world and universe without a reason. There must be something we do not know which is behind all this.

It is not a miracle that so far, large bodies of cosmic debris have not hit our world (yet). And if it did, as is presumed in the past, it must have been due to some factor. Often my friends asked me if I believed that the Mother performed miracles. I sincerely do not know. As and when people talk about miracles having been performed by Sri Aurobindo and the Mother or someone else, I consider it as their own experience and have no business to either accept or refute it. I sincerely believe that absence of evidence does not preclude absence of a fact.

Miracles are often described and subscribed by people based on their own viewpoints and comprehensions. As the Mother used to say and to quote Sri Aurobindo, people give the name of miracle only to interventions in the material or the vital world and these interventions are often mixed with ignorant and arbitrary movements.

No, I do not think or did not see any “miracle” being performed by the Mother. Whether she was capable of doing so, I do not know; but during the years that I was with her, she never performed any miracle that I know of. Of course there were occasions when she could foresee and predict them — but these cannot be considered miracles. I think it is possible for any evolved mind to analyze the environment and predict many forthcoming events.

Once I had an appointment with the Mother at 7:30 P.M., but I could not make it in time. I was coming from Madras and unfortunately, our vehicle broke down on the way. The Mother’s attendants were a little perturbed when fifteen minutes had passed and I had still not showed up. Not keeping time was anathema to the Mother. I was late by more than an hour. So I went straight to the Mother’s room without stopping at my residence in JIPMER. When I entered the Mother’s room at 8:40, everyone looked at me with a smile on their faces. The Mother was in contemplation with her eyes closed and her head bent down. After a little while, when she broke her silence and looked at me, there was a faint smile on her face.

Later on I asked “D” the reason for their smiles when I entered the room. He informed me that when I was late, they were all worried and she had smiled and said, “Do not worry about the doctor. He will come at 8:40.” When they worried about my meal, she said, “Don’t worry about that. He will get good food wherever he goes.” I wish she had also said, “He will get a good place to sleep” because since then I do get very good food, but not a good place to sleep.

She has compensated for it by giving me a very deep sleep. So I can sleep anywhere!

Now would you call this a miracle? I thought it could be clairvoyance. Why I have devoted so much to this seemingly minor episode is because the Mother had asked me to have dinner in her room at 7:30 P.M.! A rare act of kindness and love.

Mother and Her Diet

Unlike most of us who are slaves to our taste when we crave for a particular delicacy, the Mother was never choosy about any food. She ate to live — and not like most of us who live to eat! Whatever was given to her, she took it without any expression on her face.

When I reduced her salt intake, her food was cooked without salt. She ate it with relish. When someone advised (and I agreed) that bitter gourd (Karela) could be good for her, being a good appetizer, she ate it with equal ease. I was told by “D” that the Mother always liked bitter taste and in fact enjoyed it. I was very happy to learn this since I myself have always enjoyed bitter taste! I wonder if enjoying bitter food also enables one to face bitter things in life!

This could be a good subject for research by gustatory gastroenterologists and psychologists. I have no knowledge about her earlier likes or dislikes, but she was always obliging us by taking whatever we gave her. Gradually, however, her intake came down and despite our requests, she took very little; but she never had a frown on her face. When asked, “How is the Mother?” she always replied, “Bon” (“Good” in French), and nodded her head.

Biological science mentions four basic tastes — salt, sour, sweet, and bitter. Yet what a variety of tastes one experiences when one eats or drinks different foods! There was a special “Mother’s kitchen” where they used to cook specially for her, and the food was sent to her room around 7:00 p.m. every Wednesday and Saturday. It was a routine.

At that time, no visitors were allowed during her meal.

The Mother, however, always responded with “Bon” for food at every meal. It was evident that she was content and had no preference or dislike for any dish. Like a little child, she ate everything offered to her lovingly.

As a doctor, I wondered, what must have been her taste sensation? No longer retaining the ability of taste itself? One would never know. She was the most self-controlled person in the world, as were so many people around her.

The Mother, however, always responded with “Bon” — a nod and a smile — for every dish that was offered to her. In her calm poise, food had become a symbol of equality and gratitude. For her, food was an aspect of integral Yoga, where all tastes are nothing but good.

The Mother and The Blessing Packets

As I said earlier, after 1967, I had become a regular visitor to the Mother. It was customary that those of us who served the Mother got our ‘blessing’ a day before the actual Darshan day.

On one occasion, while the Mother was giving the usual Blessing Packets — a small beautiful envelope containing ten petals of rose — one was also given to me. Suddenly she looked at me and enquired if I believed in these Blessing Packets. Imagine the Mother asking me that question!

By the way, I must point out that from the very beginning I did not have any strong emotion or attachment to material things — not that I was ever a ‘sadhak’ in the true sense of the word — nor am I one to this day. Perhaps it was because of the early teachings of my father, a staunch Arya Samaji, who did not have any faith in material things and idol worship or rituals. At the same time, I must also point out that I have never criticized anyone for believing in idol worship or rituals. Every person should have the liberty to believe in anything he or she considers sacred, divine or godly. Let anyone worship God in whatever form they like. I have never disputed anyone’s faith. I do not like to put someone’s faith on the anvil of science, logic or rationality. However, as a scientist, I firmly believe in the saying ‘In God we trust, all others must have data.’ Let each one find the Truth in one’s own way. But that does not mean that one should not have a Guru or guide. This is an essential requirement for all of us who wish to seek Truth or God or whatever name you give to that ‘ultimate source of everything.’

Coming back to the Blessing Packet and the question the Mother asked me, her query was innocent. She never wanted me to be subject to any external influence and whenever the Mother asked me something, I always told her the truth. I looked at the Blessing Packet (a pink one) and then I looked at the Mother.

Deep inside, I did not believe that once she gave a Blessing Packet, it meant that everything would be okay! I believe that even if a thief went to the Mother to get her blessings for the success of his next theft, she would bless him. She would not deny her benevolence. Does it mean that the thief could now commit his act without fear because of the Mother’s blessing? This would be ridiculous! I believe that the Mother’s love and blessings are universal. Aren’t sunlight and air available to everyone?

After a brief pause, instead of answering her query, I asked her, “Mother, do you yourself believe in these Blessing Packets?” With that counter-question, everyone in the room was stunned. But the Mother laughed. She paused for a moment and commented: “My doctor is a scientist. He will go into the depth and only then accept things.” Pointing towards me, she added, “These Blessing Packets by themselves do not mean much. Primarily it is you yourself who have to do what you must. Still, if you have faith, these could help you. And I want you to keep this always with you. You may keep this in your purse!”

Ever since, I always keep that packet in my purse. But I must say that there is also something “higher” that keeps me going. Whether the Blessing Packet also helps to solve my problems whenever I am in trouble, I do not know. Perhaps keeping the Mother’s presence deep inside me is better than keeping the Blessing Packet in the wallet!

The Mother and Her Physical Body

So much has been ascribed to a divine life in a divine body that one often gets utterly confused. And that includes me! Even the word ‘Divine’ has different connotations for different people — God, the gods, godly or a thing of beauty, truth, absolute truth, universal consciousness, etc. I am not going to venture into the different aspects of a divine life or a divine body. Sri Aurobindo and the Mother have written enough. Many sadhaks have further explained what they have written. I believe that all of us have a little bit of that ‘Divine’ in us which sometimes sparkles and gives a mild shock. Some pick the thread and delve deeper; others just leave it at that and in the course of time, forget it altogether.

Here, I am not going to refer to that divine body or even an astral body.

Instead, I want to focus on a body which has physical and vital forces arranged in a systemic manner and makes our body function; the so-called Panchbhautik Shareer, with its well-defined anatomy and partly-understood physiology

.

One evening when we were sitting in the Mother’s room, she told me she wanted her spine to be straight! What did I think? This was a simple question being asked to a simple physician with limited knowledge.

As you know, the Mother had developed kyphosis in her later years, which is a result of the natural aging process due to osteoarthritis of the bones and joints with degeneration of the cartilages and the matrix of the bone. This had restricted her physical activities to a very large extent.

I told the Mother the plain truth as I understood it. I said, “Mother, I do not know about different types of bodies, but this physical body has reached a stage when it will not be able to straighten itself. On the contrary, it is likely to get worse. The only way to delay this degenerative process is to continue to do physical movements since the joints are like flowing water. The water remains pure as long as it flows. Once it stagnates, it deteriorates in quality.”

The Mother nodded her head and went into a trance (she usually contemplated that way) and a little later just nodded her head; perhaps accepting what I had mentioned, and did not have an iota of gloom in her countenance. For me the “truth” was (and still is) that the physical and biological body will have to undergo change. An organ that is born must die; or, it should transform — nothing can be static in time and space.

I do not know when an immortal, disease-free, divine body will appear, but even if it did, it will have to transform. Yet Hindus have always prayed to God to lead us from mortality to immortality! Is “death” an end? Or the beginning? This is an unsolved mystery of humankind.

My Premonitions

Human beings have always believed that many of them are bestowed with the capacity to foresee coming events. Almost all religions and cultural groups have the same notion. Rishis and saints are supposed to be endowed with this faculty. Once I too started getting premonitions. The saddest part was that I foresaw only ‘bad’ things. Seeing visions of friends and relatives in agony due to sickness, accidents, fire etc., became frequent. To me, the most painful was a premonition of my patients dying; unfortunately, this started happening even in a wakeful state. How would a doctor feel (when he or she is about to discharge a patient from the hospital), if he/she gets a premonition that the patient will die suddenly? Well, these premonitions became too painful for me.

Once I saw one of my best friends sitting near my bed with tears in his eyes, unable to speak. I was neither dreaming nor fully awake but conscious of what I saw. I told my wife what I saw and immediately wrote a letter to my friend asking about his well-being. What really surprised me was that almost at the same time, he had written to tell me that his only sister had died in an accidental fire after which he was unable to speak. He wrote that I should immediately send him a prescription. Imagine, he was in Delhi and I was in Pondicherry!

What are these ‘phenomena’? Psychic, parapsychic, mere imaginations, or some sort of extra-sensory perceptions? So as usual, I went to the Mother for guidance. She told me these were the effects of evil forces and were temporary. Since we are always surrounded by both good and evil forces, sometimes the evil ones come into play. I should pray. So, every day I prayed in the morning and evening, “God, please take away these premonitions.” Within a few days, I became as ignorant as I was and am. I sincerely hope this does not torment me again.

Even before this, I often knew the diagnosis and prognosis of a patient instinctively. This could be my subconscious mind’s deductive logic when I am presented with a situation and a problem. I do not know. But many times I feel as if the disease of a person is looking at me rather than my looking at it. There is one lesson I have learnt from this. Go to the Mother or your ‘Guru’ or God for help. Prayers are heard.

Mother’s Laughter

Even when I was young, I always laughed so loudly that my mother used to scold me. “You sound like a donkey,” she said. Then one day I told her teasingly that I had seen two donkeys laughing with their heads up towards the sky. She immediately told me to stop telling stupid things. Then she asked, “How did you know they were laughing? Donkeys do not laugh — they only bray!” But I was sure they were laughing!

Anyway, when I came to the Ashram, my friend ‘J’ and his artist friend ‘K’ told me about the story of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother and their pet donkey. This donkey was gifted to them by a Frenchman. Later, I corroborated the story with ‘R’ who is still in the Ashram. The Mother always thought that the donkey too was a ‘sadhak’ and was to be treated as such.

After the owl, my most favourite animal is a donkey! I love them. If you do not, please look into their eyes. They are so deep and contemplating.

Besides, have you ever seen a donkey complaining to his master? He works and works, whatever the weather — hot or rain. It is this attitude of a donkey that always attracted me. A perfect sadhak — a Karmayogi!

No wonder Lord Jesus, Moses and many others used the donkey as their escorts. Unfortunately, not a single Hindu God thought of making the donkey as his mascot! What a pity!

Anyway, inspired by the owl and the donkey, I used these two wonderful animals as examples to my students in medical colleges and tell them: “Remain awake during the night like an owl and work hard like a donkey.” No wonder then that an owl sitting on the head of a donkey was suggested by one of my students as the insignia for medical students! Therefore, I was more than enchanted to hear about the donkey of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother — indeed, a true ‘sadhak.’

I mention this because it brings to mind a particular episode. Once it so happened that the Mother was a little unwell. I had to prescribe antibiotics for her chest infection which I thought was secondary to the gum infection in her mouth. She held the glass and looked at me. I noticed a mild hesitation on her face, which was rather unusual. I told her, “Please, Mother, drink it like a good girl!”

The moment I uttered these words, the Mother just said, “A... girl!” and burst into hearty laughter. I could feel the entire room vibrating! Everyone in her room was surprised. Even the sadhaks who were near Sri Aurobindo’s Samadhi heard her laughter! Later some of my friends asked me about the laughter coming from the Mother’s room. What no one could hear was my smile! Needless to say she took the medicine with a grin.

Mother and Medicines

I was aware that both Sri Aurobindo and the Mother did not like taking medicines for their recovery. However, they were never dogmatic about not taking them. Medicines are tools to support recovery from illness and throughout my contact with the Mother, whenever I prescribed a medicine for her, she never objected. What touched me most was her openness to everything. Perhaps one is open if one surrenders totally to the Divine. But for a simpleton like me, it is difficult to accept whatever the Divine gives with total and complete openness and surrender. Sometimes this ‘faith’ is overruled by ‘science’ or ‘logic’ and I find myself completely perplexed. When something inside me says “Have total faith,” my logical mind immediately counters, “Beware, it may be your ignorance!” The reasoning mind and the intuitive mind are always at loggerheads!

Anyway, I always prescribed medicines in ‘pediatric’ doses to the Mother. My ‘faith’ used to tell me that the Mother, being a realised soul, would not need the average normally prescribed doses, but science and logic would immediately tell me that the efficacy of the low doses were due to her age and gradually shrinking physical body. Whatever the case, she certainly used to respond most effectively to very low doses of medicines. Her suffering and pain used to disappear much earlier than I expected and this gave further strength to the ‘fourth dimension’ of health I used to talk about — the Spiritual dimension.

To Orientals, the fourth dimension of health is easily perceived. We call it the Spiritual dimension; but to Occidentals, it may be just mental or psychological. Whatever name we give it is immaterial. I call this Factor X and with the Mother, this Factor X — this fourth dimension, this Spiritual dimension — was so strong that I could feel it whenever I was with her. Sometimes it is not possible to put into words what you feel. And there were moments when I was unable to say what I thought.

The Mother and Her Heart

I am not a literary man; although I wish I was one.

Here I am not talking about the heart that feels, the heart that thinks, the heart that opens, the heart that holds the secret of feelings, the heart that sinks at times, the heart that is the seat of the Kundalini, the heart that talks or the heart that is given. As a doctor, I am confining myself to the ‘heart’ that is an organ; a pump that ensures adequate blood supply to each and every organ of our body. This machine which the Divine has made is indeed most efficient — it is also the strongest. Imagine a heart beating about 75 times per minute for 70–80 years without stopping for even a few seconds! It is said that if it stopped for six minutes, first the brain and then the body would stop functioning. We are completely dependent on it! So when it misses a beat, we immediately become conscious of it. It is as if something has been lost — an empty feeling of a slump and even a temporary dissolution. Thankfully, it is usually extremely transitory and more often than not, the heart starts beating again. We also become conscious of its beating under the chest when it beats too strongly, too irregularly, too slowly or too fast. Otherwise, imagine this — in the life span of a 70-year-old, it beats more than 270 million times and pumps more than 70 kilotons of blood without stopping! It teaches us to rest while still at work!

Fairly early in our relationship (without having examined the Mother), I asked, “Mother, how long has it been since your heart has been beating irregularly?” She gave a surprised look and asked, “How do you know that my heart beat is irregular?” I chuckled and said, “Mother, when I first met you while you were blessing me, my hand involuntarily held your wrist and felt your pulse. So I learnt that your heart beat is irregular.”

She gave a broad smile and told me that she became aware of it ‘about forty years ago’ while she was climbing stairs and ever since, she knew her heart was beating irregularly but did not do anything nor consult anyone about it. She accepted it and never bothered about it. She was a classic case of auricular or atrial fibrillation. In my professional experience, she was the second case of atrial fibrillation which did not exhibit any symptoms for such a long duration.

The first was my maternal grandmother who used to take her flock of goats up in the mountains for grazing till she was 70. She lived in a remote village in the mountains of Garhwal. When I was a medical student, I made a clear diagnosis — atrial fibrillation due to rheumatic heart disease with a prognosis of a year or two at the most. She was about 50 at the time and I had just received a ‘best student’ award in Medicine and was certain I was right! When I next visited her three years later, I was already a doctor (a senior house officer or a Registrar) and I found my Grandma was as agile as ever and continuing her normal routine of taking her goats up to the mountains for grazing!

She must have been walking at least ten kilometers and would also have to run to control the straying goats. Undoubtedly, she needed to be very swift and agile to do this! So naturally, I was surprised to see her in such a healthy condition. I next visited my village after five years and grandma was still the same. By then I was an Assistant Professor of Medicine. When I re-examined her, she was in her early sixties. Apart from the fact that she had a little breathing problem, she was doing pretty well. She must have been well into her late seventies when I got the news from home that she had quietly passed away. Perhaps the time of leaving the body is determined by parameters other than what we learn in medical schools.

So the heart is indeed a wonderful organ — it has marvelous reserve; it can and does work wonders, particularly when it beats in someone who is simple and accepts what has been given by the Divine. The Mother’s heart was not only simple but truly Divine.

The Mother’s Gift

It is a usual custom in all cultures and societies to give gifts to the young with love. As a matter of fact, gifts are usually exchanged on many occasions.

We often used to talk about the Mother at home. So once our children — I have four daughters who were then between 4–12 years old — wanted to receive her Darshan. As you know, the Mother was ever-obliging to children, irrespective of their age.

So one evening was fixed for their visit and I was told to bring them to her room. All of them were excited. They had never seen the Mother from so close. They actually wanted to touch her. Well, at the appointed time, we were ushered into her room. She was in such a jovial mood that day that her smile could be felt in the entire room. Everyone was smiling. One by one, our four daughters did pranaam at her feet and she blessed each one individually. The Mother then asked them to pick up one of the animal toys that adorned the shelf by her side. They were mere toys for others but perhaps as alive as all of us for her. They must have been telling the Mother about the character of each visitor. Think hard! Aren’t animals a better judge of human beings?

Anyway, I remember three of the older children picked up what they liked best. But the youngest one simply said, “Mother, I do not want to take anything!” Everyone was surprised because she was hardly three years old then. When one of the Mother’s attendants coaxed her to pick one, the Mother immediately asked him not to interfere. “This child is self-sufficient. Do not force anything on her.”

I did not know then, nor do I know now how the Mother’s words changed her life, but she definitely has a very independent nature. How she will fare in the future, I don’t know. She has recently completed Master’s degrees in Biomedical Engineering and Business Management.

After the children, it was my turn to do pranaam. After blessing me as she had the children, the Mother asked me to pick up a toy also. I hesitated a little. Seeing this, she immediately asked me, “Which is your favourite animal?” I told her she would laugh if I told her my choice.

“Come on,” she said, “let us know.”

Without any further hesitation I told the Mother that the owl was my favourite animal. The moment I uttered ‘owl’, she leaned backwards and laughed. After a while she said, “Doctor, the owl is also my favourite animal.”

It was such a wonderful feeling to hear those words! From childhood, for some reason I don’t know why, I always liked owls. A pair used to live very close to our house in the village. However, in our part of the world, the owl is considered a messenger of death! However, for a long time, I have been reading about them and collecting toy owls from all over the world. I have already collected more than 150 of them from many countries and friends keep bringing me more. I even have a framed picture of an owl in my room which was composed by a Chinese artist in Pondicherry. There is also another excellent painting by one of the sadhaks who was a great artist.

The owl is considered an emblem of Wisdom in the West and Prosperity in the Far East. In fact, in many countries, owls made of different materials are hung in front of the main doors.

I wanted to know why the owl is considered a bad omen and a messenger of death in the Himalayan villages. I found out it was because of its sharp ‘cry’ at night. People do not know this cry does not belong to a ‘witch’ or a messenger of Death, but is the midnight cry of the owl on a successful hunt or while mating. This is a special owl — the ‘hawk owl’. I had to actually show the owl to convince my mother, but she still would not change her view on owls. Initially, she hated my toy owls collection but later — much later — she not only tolerated them, but even admired them sometimes.

Anyway, I have the greatest solace and satisfaction that at least in one way I had some similarity with the Mother since both of us liked owls — though perhaps she for her wisdom and I for my folly!

The Mother’s Ring

In late 1971 or early 1972, I received news from the Government of India that I had been awarded a British Council fellowship for one year. So as usual, I went to the Mother for her blessings before accepting the fellowship. The Mother looked at me and after some hesitation, smiled and blessed me. She looked at “D” and perhaps gave some unspoken instruction. After three days, I was specially called and told by “D” that as a special blessing, the Mother had given me a gold ring with her symbol to wear always.

As a doctor who has to wash his hands often, I never used to wear any ring. Once some friends had brought a steel ring for me from some Himalayan temple as a blessing of the Almighty. I have kept it safely in my almirah but do not wear it. However, when the Mother asked me to constantly wear the ring given by her, I have kept her order and my word.

Now what is so special about this ring?

The most special thing is that it has become a part of my body and constantly reminds me of the Mother. There is some attachment of the ring to me besides my own attachment to it! That is perhaps why it has fallen off my finger twice and both times, I have got it back!

Once when I was taking off my sweater, I heard a tinkling sound and the next moment, the ring on my finger was missing. My wife and I searched the whole floor of the room where it had supposedly fallen but we could not find it. It was such a painful thing. But what could we do? With a sad heart, I sank exhausted after the search and went to sleep. No dreams, no premonition of finding it.

So I thought perhaps the Mother wanted it back. So be it. Accept whatever she gives or takes as holy Prasaad. After some time the incident was forgotten.

Next week, the washerman brought our clothes and while checking my pants, my wife found the ring stuck between the folds of the leg sleeve! Imagine, the dhobi took the dirty clothes, then put them in his bhaati, then ironed it and then brought it back, and yet all this time, he did not find it. Was it a miracle?

The other incident happened in Delhi. During the winter I used to wear gloves and go to my office on my scooter. One day, I suddenly found the ring was missing. I thought I had left it at home, but when I called my wife to see if it was in my small tray (where I used to keep my watch and loose change), she replied it was not there! Though I was working the whole day, I was very uncomfortable the entire time. So I decided to leave the office early and go back.

When I came down to get my scooter, to my astonishment, the ring was lying on the footboard! It must have fallen while I was taking off my gloves. Anyway, what was surprising was that almost 40–60 scooters were parked in line and people kept coming and going — but no one noticed the ring. I kissed the ring and thanked the Mother.

Ever since, I always wear the ring on the ring finger of my right hand. God has made fingers unequal and this finger being a little thicker, it even retains the ring better!