Daughter of Fire

by Irina Tweedie

  I was wondering why these difficult conditions did not matter anymore. Often it happened that when I had the opportunity to tell him about some difficulties, or even only wrote about them in my diary, they suddenly vanished or lost all importance and I had the strength to go on. Something new is being done to my heart. I feel it.

  Is it because I pray so much? Perhaps. The heart did beat tocsin in the afternoon, nearly all the time. The feeling of nearness was great, and I could not help wondering if the heartbeat was his and not mine?

  He was talking to us about desire; he said that he wants to be completely without desires; he thinks that he has still so many desires, he said, speaking of Sannyasi who had just left.

  “But he is a Sannyasi; he is supposed to be without desire,” I said.

  “Yes, he should, but it is very difficult; very few remain without desires, only the fortunate ones. The Satsang has this great advantage.” He fell silent with the sphinx expression on his face, screwing up his eyes looking into some inward distance….

  “And here you are sending me away,” I said, watching the flashes of light suddenly blazing out from his forehead.

  “Yes,” he nodded, “physical separation must be.” He took the letter I prepared for Mme. Bruno and began to correct it.

  “The sentence that the Trica Philosophy is a low kind can hurt her feelings; if they want this or that, I never answer; why should I say that they should follow me? Whatever they want to believe, they can believe; it is not my concern. Only those who are in earnest will follow me. One can speak harshly if it is necessary, but when one writes, one has to be careful. Written words sometimes look differently from what one intended them to be. If the heart is full of love, how can one hurt?”

  “But I hate them all!” I exclaimed. “I hate them deeply, and violently! If I could poison them all, I gladly would do it! Why is this hatred in my heart? And why so constant and so violent? I simply loathe everybody!!” He looked at his shoes without answering and then went into Samadhi.

  Yesterday people came in the afternoon; they all went inside; I was sitting outside alone. The longing was deep. The sunset sky was magnificent to look at… wild birds in crimson and plume helmets and tongues of flames dancing as if in a storm, all mingling together… the crimsons deepening on the background of pale watery blue.

  But it was over so quickly. How short the colors last here in the South. In England the sunsets last much longer, and the colors in the sky remain for quite some time. Soon I will see the English sunsets again.

  “Every human being must work,” he said yesterday. “You must go and do some good work. You will come back… it is not forever…. “

  “But how can I go without knowing for sure that I will see you again? Just tell me that, if you know?” I asked, but he was silent.

  Ahuja told me yesterday that he will buy my typewriter. O.K. Why take it with me? I can get a good price here for it and will buy another one in England. This one I have is too heavy for air travel anyhow.

  How much I loved Him and prayed silently that I want Him so badly to come back into my heart… and the sky was a glory… the deepest feeling of belonging mingled with the greatest sorrow, and something was crying in me….

  1st January, 1963

  IT WILL BE THE YEAR of the Great Divide… what will it bring?

  He came out very late. Said that he still had some trouble with his bowels. Gave me a letter fromMme. Bruno, and asked me to answer it point by point and make a better job of it. But he did not tell me what he wants to be said. Well, I suppose, I have to capture his thought; it is not easy to be a postbox. Told him again that I am in such a bad state, that if he knew he would be quite sorry for me… at least I hope so. I realized that I have built my castle on shifting sand.

  “Everybody has built his home of shifting sands in this world,” he smiled. “Everyone in the System comes to the point where they lose all beliefs, and are confused and say that they are nowhere… you are not the only one. Until one forgets everything, Samskaras will remain. I never had this trouble. I, of course, had also my beliefs; everyone has, but Karmas and things like this did not bother me… I believed in Him alone.” He proceeded to tell me what a wild and violent boy he was until his Rev. Guru took him in his hands and his life was turned completely.

  The Guru of his Rev. Guru said to his disciples: “Everyone has to die, life is short (he was 107 years old). I am sorry I could not take you to the stage I intended, but you work alone to reach there.”

  “This is always said so,” he remarked, looking kindly at me. “The teacher will never tell the disciple that the teaching is finished and he knows all that there is to know, in order that the disciple should not be proud.”

  Speaking of Chowdrie, I said that he has an easy life.

  “Yes, an easy life, easy and smooth, no family to worry about. We have to live our life in the world and be occupied with worldly affairs, and reach the highest stage in spite, or rather, because of it.

  For the greater is the limitation, the greater will be the ultimate perfection by overcoming it. Very few reach it indeed. It is very difficult.”

  “That’s why you want me to go back, because you think that my life here is too easy!”

  “It is not a question of easy or difficult,” he said, “but the human being has to work. You come here and go back; you make no effort.”

  “Oh, I thought that I am making such a terrible effort! This morning I was weeping bitterly for a long time because my life is so full of misery in every way!”

  “From my point of view it is nothing,” he said, and went into Samadhi for a short while. Then he said: “There things will happen much more than here… much more…. ” He went silent again.

  “Bogroff when he was here was full of love. He was sitting here on the brick elevation where I used to walk, and when people asked him if he was hot—it was in June—he used to answer that he was all right. So full of love was he, he did not feel anything.”

  This is for me, I thought… I seem not to be quite there yet; more love is needed if I am still complaining. The day must come when I will be no more. But when?

  I said it seems to me that only love is left, and its shadow-side, hatred, and the belief in Him like a rising sun on the horizon, and nothing more.

  “Only one thing will remain,” he said slowly.

  “Is this thing love?”

  “Only one thing,” he repeated without answering my question, and then, “even this will not remain.” He fell silent and closed his eyes. I wondered… it looks as if my going to London will represent the supreme test. I always thought so, but from the hints I get it is going to be terrible. Somehow I am not really worried….

  He went for a walk with his wife. I sat alone and prayed so much. I was not alone anymore… and in the night prayed and prayed in the fullness of love….

  When he returned from the walk and sat in the chair for a while opposite me, I told him that it looked to me as if Mme. Bruno is in a greater mess than myself, and we discussed her case for a while. “For myself I must say, I thank you, you helped me; this morning I felt as if beaten up severely; it is not easy to be a letter-box.” He looked .at me directly with an expression I have never seen before, so full of tender compassion, but I could hardly see his face in the dusk.

  Told him that in the night it came into my mind that Sufis work from the Atmic level downwards—that’s why it is so powerful. All the other Yoga Schools begin either on the physical level like Hatha Yoga, or on the level of the mind like Raja yoga… Buddhists, etc.

  At the Atmic level, no disturbances from the Kama Rupa level can reach; that’s why it is so effective and quick results are achieved. He smiled so tenderly again, but now his expression was hardly visible in the darkness.

  It seems to me that the state of consciousness is shifting. But I have so often thought of it in the past that I don’t know how far this statement is correct.

  This morning the chair is full of d
og hair and dirt from the dog’s feet. A dog slept in it during the night. The servant does not take the chairs inside at night, and often dogs sleep on them. I asked for a clean chair, and Virendra brought me one from inside the room. But I was not particularly upset about it. Some time ago I would have been resentful because I am expected to put up with such conditions.

  But somehow, it did not matter much. Sure, I would not sit on such an unhygienic chair, but it was soon dismissed from my mind.

  The world looked more than ever like Maya, quite unreal. He did not come out but called me from the door, telling me to go to the Post Office and ask when was the last date for the Radio License. So, I went home early and did some shopping. The state of consciousness DOES seem to change—love seems to be deeper, and the feeling of nothingness before him is increasing.

  All this being sorry for myself is sheer nonsense. I have to switch over to perfect love. Nothing should matter anymore. Not even the most difficult conditions. In England they will be even more difficult… it looks so to judge from his hints. It is so useless to be resentful, and still I am… incredible to say….

  I throw myself before You… I am crying to you from the uttermost depth of my heart .. . I want You so badly… I want to become one with You, but I cannot because the mind gives me some trouble. Not much, but even a little, creates a veil between You and me.

  Again he came out dressed so flimsily; it seems he does it on purpose. It was bitterly cold and a sharp icy wind was blowing from the north. Told him that something is happening to my Indrias (senses); they seem to work in an unusual way, as if they were not able to record the impressions properly. Difficult to explain, but everything is like a dream, unreal, as if I were living on another plane altogether. And I AM living on another plane: He is with me and I am with Him all the time. And I pray, pray all day long that a Hint should be given to you (at this point he smiled) and pray for help, because if I can keep this state I will overcome the present crisis. He smiled again.

  “The Indrias do not seem to convey the correct impressions because you are in a state of spiritual constipation; it sometimes happens like this.”

  “So it is bad?”

  “No, good, very good,” he smiled; “spiritual constipation is a very good thing; it means you will make a jump forward after that.”

  “I know that the only thing to help to keep this state is to pray; as soon as He is with me, I am all right…. Please do go inside; it is so cold; you give us all much worry dressed like this.” He had an amused look.

  “I don’t call you inside in the morning because the room has to be cleaned.” And he went in.

  But later? I thought, and in the afternoon? And when the others are in with you? The reason you gave me is not the one; it is for the sake of training you do it, my dear, I thought….

  In the afternoon when I was sitting outside, and the room was full of people talking to him, I sat near the door to hear his voice and was thinking: to be content to hear your voice, my dear Bhai Sahib. To be content, bearing the loneliness and pain and longing. To be content with the Darshan you give me, without asking for more, without desiring more, that’s how it should be…. The nearer the departure, the harder it is bound to become… but I must manage it. It seems the greatest possible effort to demand, but clearly it has to be…. Will pray… I feel there is only a thin wall between Him and me. And this wall has to be broken down. All my being I have thrown before Him, but He will not listen until the whole of myself is completely down before Him.

  He came out, sat for a while (at least he had a warm pullover now), and I went quite still with wonder at the beauty of the light which surrounded him. Pure gold and flashes of an unusual green: I just stared.

  “Why is this hatred?” I felt compelled to ask, to my surprise.

  He smiled suddenly. “It is because you have challenged me to produce love; this is the other, the parallel current.”

  What did he mean by that? I felt I should not ask; he will not answer. He looked far away with a hard expression. No, I could not ask .. ..

  “If people should ask you,, how is it that you are so far after only such a short time, tell them, how is it that a woman becomes pregnant in a second?”

  I said that I answered that it was Guru Krepa (grace).

  “Yes, but there are people who don’t believe in Guru Krepa; to those one can answer as I have told you!” I laughed. He was right.

  “In our System the disciples become sometimes very jealous,” he said when I told him that Sida Prasad made remarks accusing me of pride.

  “But not only in your System… I read that it happens in every School of Yoga—it is human nature! And I thought that Sida Prasad was right; perhaps I was full of pride, not in the particular connection he was meaning, but pride I have enough. So, I did not answer him.”

  “Yes, let them speak. Often my school fellows came to me asking me, how is it that you are a Wali? How can it be? I am older than you, and I have nothing! You cannot be a Saint! So, I answer: you say that I am not, let it be! Why should I explain that my Rev. Guru Maharaj gave it to me but not to him? Will I be less if he does not believe in me? It is of no importance at all.”

  Then we discussed desires, and I said I hope to be like him one day, wanting nothing; it is the Goal to which one should aspire.

  “It is difficult; very few reach this stage.” I know I will reach it. I SIMPLY MUST. There is no other way… he was leading me towards it steadily….

  “If I will be so inefficient and confused when I am in England, it will be very bad. How will I live?”

  “It is because you are here,” he said slowly; “when you are there, everything will be different…. “I wondered what he meant but dared not ask.

  “You can go home,” he declared, and began to pace up and down rapidly. I went, wondering if I will be able to walk, such were the vibrations. But I managed.

  2nd January

  HE ONLY LOOKED OUT from the room and gave me some postcards to post. “You can go home,” he said curtly, and went with the two disciples inside.

  Mrs. Ghose’s dog woke me up; he barked without a stop for nearly one hour. At first I was annoyed, and then I just wished myself a Happy New Year. The prayer seemed exceptionally easy. I could tune in without the least effort. Did not analyze why it was like this. It was easy, so I prayed, and prayed, for his health in the New Year, for my progress, prayed with words and without, just in fullness of love.

  At about five in the morning the heartbeat, which until now was normal, changed abruptly to a new beat—the quicker and the stronger one which during the last few days I have had from time to time. I began to wonder if the state of nearness with Him and the new heartbeat had something to do with the easy prayer tonight. The mind does not reach there; it is not at all simple to check it. Then I suddenly realized what was the matter: He seemed to be PART OF MYSELF. To explain better: until now I was With Him; now He was part of myself. Until now I had to make an effort, even if Iately it hardly seemed one, so easy I could reach Him; but tonight I could simply take a little dip, a small step inside myself and, lo! There He was!

  Nearly effortless! I tried it again and again to be quite sure; yes, there was no mistake: He was part of me, so it felt….

  Now that is a very wonderful thing, I said to my mind; do you realize what a great thing it is? But the mind did not seem to realize it at all…. He was so naturally, so easily part of myself that it did not seem wonderful at all …. Even now, in spite of the fact that I thought it over, in spite of all this, I seem not to be able to realize completely the importance of this fact. He is myself, seemed to say my mind. HE is ME. What is wonderful about that? Does one find it wonderful that the eyes are mine? Or the head? Or any other part of the body? It is simply part of me. Something similar I discovered some days ago: the why of the fact that in spite of the physical nearness there seemed to be no desire at all. How could that be, he being a man and I a woman? Well, it is too simple, really; if there is a
sense of identity, how can there be a desire? For a desire you need two things, one desiring the other. But if you are ONE AND THE SAME, what desire can there be? One does not desire one’s own body, isn’t it so?I think that the identity with Him is because of the identity with Bhai Sahib. It is one and the same thing. It feels only as duality, Guru AND Him… but it is a mistake, there is a mistake somewhere. I have to watch this state carefully to discover where the mistake lies….

  Thank you for the boon you gave me last night, I thought, seeing him pacing up and down. It was my New Year’s Gift….

  I was wondering if he knew exactly what had happened, or if he just puts on the vibration, or changes its frequency, or creates something to which the disciple reacts as well as he can according to his or her capacity. But his attitude showed me clearly that he knew very well what did happen, because he began to test me immediately without delay. When I gave him the letters I had written to some of his disciples, he was curt, criticized a few things, hardly looked at me, and spoke abruptly. But I was full of love and his unfriendliness did not affect me; it did not matter that other people were going inside and I sat alone as ever. Love seemed much bigger now, increased.

  What he did, I think, is to stimulate the Heart Chakra. For the last few nights I felt it whirling; it seemed huge—at least it felt like that.

  And it was going round and round; the whole upper part of the thorax was affected. Also when I lay sidewise, I could even hear it spin. The heartbeat did change since Friday, five days ago. In the morning, when I was holding the mirror, my hand would shake; I had difficulty putting cream on my face. I knew that he was doing something different. I told him so and he nodded. Something very important is happening. I was thinking that I have to do it alone, that he will not help me, and I have to cross the crisis alone, and here he is not only helping, but I think that HE ACTUALLY DID IT, much more than myself…