... but he was the one who was driving. Now I understand my vision. It was that force, that power in him... it was tremendous. ( silence ) It was a rather peculiar night.... An old friend of Amrita's died in the night: Ganeshan. I didn't know. And it was... How can I really explain?... The body, the body consciousness was the consciousness of a dying body, and at the same time with the perfect ...
... how the form of the Pranam was very much changed: It was no longer in the room where one could approach Her in privacy, but in the open verandah in the Meditation House, downstairs in front of Amrita's room, where we all sat together and looked at each person approaching the Mother, instead of concentrating on how to stand in Her Presence. No longer different flowers to every person this time; ...
... sometimes coming in a flood like the Ganges or the Brahmaputra. There is one more modern trait, which my my friend Purani has noted. During the early years of the Ashram, Sri Aurobindo's foot once touched Amrita's inadvertently. Sri Aurobindo sat up in the chair and said: "I beg your pardon." Well, the Guru telling a shishya "I beg your pardon" is certainly modern! To further demonstrate the ...
... it does not recommend itself to me. I see you are having great difficulties over the money question. Remember that money as a general power is still in the hands of the adverse forces, Mammon or Amrita's grand Titan. The favourable force can only come in waves which must be realised at once, otherwise the adverse forces will intervene and create all difficulties. Also it will not do to relax effort ...
... concentrate on the Divine. Perhaps that is why most sadhikas did some embroidery in their spare time, and also to create something to offer to Mother on their birthday. Another close friend was Amrita’s sister, Padmasini, who was in charge of the domestic service. A daughter of a police inspector, her bearings and dealings intimidated most sadhaks. As a result, her long-time assistant Arvind Sule ...
... course, there was no question of asking Mother for “receipts” when I placed my offering on her lap. It is more than likely that there has never been any trace of those gifts (except perhaps in Amrita’s notebooks) and they can deny what they all know perfectly well (I remember a fragment of conversation with Counouma who, with his usual tone of a perfidious sacristan, told me one day, “Oh, you ...
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