Daughter of Fire

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by Irina Tweedie


  “Those lotus feet of yours… I must make them famous, at least I will have a good try…. “One tear rolled slowly down his cheek and he closed his eyes softly and tenderly. I knew it was meant for me and I began to cry.

  “It is because you have challenged me on the 5th of January to produce love; that’s why you have to go. Otherwise you would have been like L.”

  “No, I think you would have done it anyhow. I have a proof of it: you said once in November: “I will take you in a gallop by a short-cut.” He shook his head slowly.

  “I don’t disobey the order but it can remain with me for years; I don’t disobey it, but it is up to me when to execute it. You challenged me; so it was done quickly.”

  “You mean that I precipitated the events. I understand; but was it bad?”

  “No,” he said, “not bad, but you could have had it like L., coming and going. I would not have sent you away so soon…. “

  “But I did not want unconscious states for ages to come! Those who are in Dhyana, you see where they are—nowhere! This is not for me! I want love, I want suffering! I even asked your Rev. Guru for more suffering!… and I will get it, you will give it to me!” He nodded very, very slowly.

  “Let’s go into the room,” he got up. There he left me for a while and went out. I began to cry, thinking will I see him alive?

  “I hope to see you alive,” I said when he came back and sat in the big chair.

  “Who knows what the future will bring,” he murmured with tight lips. I cried more. It seemed such a cruel answer. He looked at me thoughtfully.

  “Where will you live in London?” I told him that I will take a room. “A room?” he inquired.

  “Yes, I will have no money to do more than that. Besides, probably I will be very little in London. I will be sent into the provinces to lecture.”

  “Very troublesome life,” he looked at me with an ironic smile.

  “Difficult life to travel and to talk all the time…. “

  “But this is the idea, is it not? That’s why I am sent back; to have a difficult life to travel and to talk, is it not so?” But he did not answer; he went into Samadhi. After a long while I got up. He suddenly opened his eyes.

  “When you are alone,” he said, looking at me with those strange eyes half in Samadhi, “When you are alone, you should try to be absorbed….”

  “In you?” I asked.

  “In whom you like,” he smiled. I went out.

  In the evening I asked him what he had meant exactly. Was it a hint? “If I try to be absorbed, will I not remain on the level of the mind? I will not reach you!” He smiled tenderly, his head turned sideways, a strange soft smile illumined his face.

  “This,” he said, “is to be understood, not to be explained in words…. “His eyes were shining in the darkness like two blazing stars. The wife came out calling him for supper.

  Slept well. I wish I knew what he meant, how it worked. “Is this the state of nearness?” I asked before leaving, but he did not answer and went inside.

  55 One Must Be Able to Sleep in the Street

  18th April, 1963

  THIS MORNING LOOKING IN THE MIRROR, just when I got up, I noticed with surprise that my eyes were blazing like two huge stars, so shiny.

  The Light of the Guru, I thought, examining it. Those are not your eyes, neither are they beautiful ones… but what light in them… his Light! And I looked at them for a long while. Grey eyes full of cold, brilliant, unearthly light….

  Here we are; the disciples get the training according to the will of the Guru, according to the character, and according to their own liking. I challenged him. The character was there; order was there all the three factors. So I am taken to Him in a gallop… I am a lucky old girl… what am I complaining about? Pushpa told me never to fear, not even for a moment; he will not die, she feels it for sure. He smiled one of his infinitely tender smiles when told about it. And he looked so incredibly young, so radiant. How many expressions he has!

  19th April

  GREAT PEACE. Bliss unbelievable since Bhogoun. The vibration goes on.

  20th April

  SLEPT WELL. But in the morning woke at dawn to a Great Separation.

  Complete emptiness. Felt so lonely, and the Longing began.

  Wondering if the mind will give trouble again.

  He was sitting cross-legged in stony silence doing his mala. I just sat, had no desire to speak. Everybody had left, we were alone. My birthday today—56. Am an old lady, but the body feels young and healthy and full of energy. And the heart is full of this terrible Thing which people call Love, but I would call it Longing.

  He got up abruptly, took his towel and went inside without a word. I sat for ten more minutes. Then I too went home. Began to prepare for packing.

  How will I live? And my heart was heavy. How will I be able to survive? How to become a drop sinking into the desert sand not knowing if I ever will see him again?

  21st April

  THIS MORNING THE VIBRATION began strongly and became quite something as soon as he came out. He asked me only about the socks which I try to shrink for him. In the afternoon the heart— vibration was very strong.

  In the evening he translated a couplet from the Persian:

  “The Beloved gave me some dust from the backyard.

  Why are you so fragrant, oh, dust?

  I am a dust people tread upon,

  But I partake of the fragrance of the courtyard of a Saint.

  It is not me, I am just an ordinary dust.

  So if people praise you,

  you must say that you were just near a flower,

  but you are an ordinary dust.

  And it is all due to His Lotus feet.

  Speak up, that I may follow you,”

  he said and I repeated.

  “Yes, this will be a correct answer, if you always say like that!”

  “Only eight more miserable days,” I said.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  Only one week left and he will be a memory….

  22nd April

  HE DID NOT COME OUT THIS MORNING. He is not at all well, vomiting and coughing much. So, I went home early.

  The greatest happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved, loved for ourselves, or rather loved in spite of ourselves, said Victor Hugo.

  I was with Pushpa and we were talking all the time about him. My heart was so full of the sorrow of parting that I could not speak of anything else. “I will surrender before Thee and Thou willst love me for myself,” Pushpa translated from the Ramayana.

  “How are you?” He asked suddenly. His face was in the darkness, dimly distinguishable, only the eyes blazing, looking straight at me.

  “I am all right,” I breathed. Wondered if he had fever. A tremendous stream of power emanated from him; he dosed his eyes and so did I. And I was not, and lost the sense of time, and I think lost consciousness too.

  23rd April

  HE SENT US HOME EARLY LAST NIGHT. Slept well, and this morning love is burning sky-high, and the longing is killing. I am going, and a kind of panic is in me. I am going, no time to bother, to speculate about the state a woman can reach or not. No time to bother about anything anymore… I am going and I will have to live without you. How will I? This tremendous sorrow to have to go makes my being numb with pain. The vibration goes on softly. It is like a sorrowful ecstasy, a kind of higher state of consciousness… a sort of exaltation mixed with panic….

  Told him that I had my birthday on Saturday, and it was the most lonely birthday of my life. Last year I asked for a boon on my birthday. I did not get any boon. “And this year you throw me out, not only out of your town, but out of India altogether. What a wonderful birthday present on my 56th year! An old lady!… “

  “A woman is never old; sexually she is ever young. A man is supposed to become old.”

  “But I am not after sex,” I said.

  “No, never mind if one is not after sex; what I say has nothing to d
o with it. If women became old, the whole creation would disintegrate. The physical body becomes weaker; this is the law,” he smiled faintly.

  “Do you mean that Prakriti, Matter, is eternal, ever-young?” I asked. He nodded. “But Purusha is also ever-young?” I wanted to know.

  “Purusha is composed of many things. Prakriti means: ‘to work with.’ If there were no Prakriti, there would be no Light. The more sex-power the human being has, the easier he will reach God or Truth. Impotent people cannot have Brahma Vidya, men or women. Great sex power is a great help in spiritual life. The outcome, the emanation of Brahma Vidya is coming down into manifestation as Virya Shakti, the Creative Energy of God.

  “On the lowest plane of manifestation it appears as seminal fluid in men; in women it is preserved in the Chakras. That’s why the yogic training on the etheric level for men and women is different.

  For men I give sometimes many practices; for woman it is only necessary to get rid of her greater attachment to Maya, because she is made by nature nearer to matter. In her the ties to material things like children, possessions, security, are very strong, stronger than in men.”

  “You said that one day even love has to be renounced; it is going to be a sad day, because love is the only thing I have left.”

  “Love will remain always,” he answered. “One day the self will go, then only Love will remain…. You will not say: I love. Where will the ‘I’ be?”

  “But how could we live without the center of the ‘I’? There would be no consciousness, like in sleep, for instance.”

  “Yes, one lives in the self; in my case I can go out of the body at any time. When in the body the self is present, one suffers, feels like everybody else.”

  “But your self is not the same as in others. It must be of a different quality.”

  “The Real Self belongs to the Soul; once one is established in it, the life on the physical plane becomes of small, relative importance.”

  24th April

  TOLD HIM THAT THE VIBRATION is softly going on, but there is no trouble. Only a kind of restlessness in the body.

  “Should not be there,” he looked at me thoughtfully. And there was none this morning. He took it away.

  Even with my mind paralyzed I keep weeping all the time. Woke up at four a.m. A thunderstorm was fast approaching. Amongst the gusts of wind and clashes of thunder the voice of a newborn kitten was heard miauling loudly and helplessly. It was thrown behind the fence to die—somewhere nearby, I assume, but could not locate from where the sound came. Listening to this desolate sound of anguish made my heart even heavier than it already was…. What will become of me? How will I live? Without you? Without the hope of spiritual achievement?

  The storm passed at a distance with lots of lightning. There was much barking of dogs for a while. About 5:30 the voice of the kitten was heard no more. Swallowed up by some dog I presume….

  25th April

  IT IS SIMILAR TO A KIND OF HIGHER STATE of consciousness, a sort of enthusiasm. Sharp feeling of panic each time I remember that I am going. And I remember all the time. The heart keeps aching.

  Told him that he, as a little boy of fourteen, was so much wiser than I, a mature woman. He knew that he had to love only, and I, in spite of clear hints again and again, kept fretting, causing myself endless suffering. Wanting this and that. Only now I have reached the stage that I want to love only, but now it is too late. I have to go.

  And surrounded by worldly preoccupations in London, what will become of my love, of my spiritual aspirations? He only smiled gently but said nothing. A newcomer came, a young man. ·

  “I will go into the room with him,” he pointed to the young man.

  “You can remain seated outside or go home, as you wish.” His expression was dry and hard. They went in and the room was closed.

  Could not help feeling bitter. It was only a quarter past nine, still so early. I am going away for two-and-a-half years and he is grudging me the few remaining hours….

  Went to the electrician to arrange my ceiling fan to be taken down.

  I am giving it to him as well as all the furniture. The last night will sleep with Pushpa. When I came back, he was drinking at the water pipe in the garden.

  “You can come inside.” The newcomer was in Dhyana. He sat himself crosslegged on the tachat. Looked him over with such an expression of deep love. “It is enough,” he said suddenly, and with a start the man woke up. He was talking to him kindly for a while, then Guruji sent him away.

  Sat in his big chair. Gandiji came. He began a long talk explaining something about the System, and I heard mentioned the word Bhogoun, and he was talking now about his Rev. Guru Maharaj. And I cried because my heart was aching too much…. Left after twelve and he was still talking.

  In the evening the old Vahil was there, and he translated what he was telling him in Hindi: when there is deep peace, even music disturbs; one does not want any distractions.

  “We don’t encourage music even. Nothing. We rest in peace.”

  26th April

  ”MAY I ASK A QUESTION?” He bent forward with one of his beautiful smiles.

  “Yes?” he said encouragingly.

  “You said yesterday: “Let it be!” when I mentioned that London has a bad atmosphere; does it mean that one gets a protection when one is sent out into the world?”

  “Why should London be worse than any other place? People say this town is a very bad place. The world is the world; good and bad are everywhere. One should not dwell on it and it will have no effect. A beautiful flower has a thorn. People pluck the flower; they don’t touch the thorn. I walk in the street, so do many people. I am not concerned with the street, nor with the crowd which passes by.”

  “Does it mean that Sufis should notice good things around them?”

  “With Sufis it is different. They are absorbed somewhere all the time; they don’t notice good or bad. We were in Bhogoun. No fans were there. We all slept on the floor. Were we affected by it?

  Certainly not.We should be able to sleep in the street when there is no other possibility. Why not? the street is also part of Him, made by Him. Sufis don’t say: I do this or that. THEY DO IT. It is the Sufi way.

  If you think you did a great thing, then it goes; it has no value. Why not think you did it because it was your duty? Duty has a permanent value. Never think you did something great, something special.

  Think you did your duty only.”

  “You told us that your Rev. Guru was short-tempered with you and spoke to you only briefly, only to give orders as if in angry mood?”

  “Yes, so it was for years, it is true.”

  “Did you not suffer very much… you must have!”

  “Why should I?” he asked narrowing his eyes.

  “Well, if one loves, a kind word is so precious, so desired, so necessary. You must have suffered greatly!”

  “Why should I?” he repeated looking straight at me.

  “I am afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” I was puzzled.

  “I was after him, not after the suffering,” he spoke slowly. “I wanted to please him. Why should I have suffered?” His eyes were resting on me quietly. What an answer, I thought….

  “I am afraid I DID suffer; very much so…. ” He did not answer.

  He was in Samadhi.

  His eldest son came out. He wrote down a few Yantras and was explaining to him how to write them and how to fold them. Then the newcomer came and he sent his son inside the room.

  “He will put him in Dhyana. How interesting!”

  “In our System it is not difficult; if I give an order, anybody can put anyone in Dhyana.”

  “Does he know what he is doing? Because L. told me that she does not know what she is doing; it just happens.”

  “L. is after the Trica Philosophy and her own Kundalini; one cannot ride two horses at once. My son saw it since his childhood; he was in it. He knows what he is doing. I am preparing him,” he added, narrowing his e
yes to a slit.

  “Are you preparing him for the System?”

  “This I don’t know,” he said with his eyes closed. “God knows who will take it. But I am preparing him; he is a silent one; he does not speak very much. And he is afraid of me.”

  Later when the newcomer joined us he said: “To be intellectual, to have much knowledge is a hindrance. For people who are not, it is easier. They know all the rules, what is written in the scriptures, but they are not able to lose themselves. They may get up at four a.m., go to the Ganga, do this exercise, this Abhyasa. They don’t understand it is only an external thing, not at all important… for instance if I am a vegetarian and he is not,” he pointed to a man sitting there, “why should I say: be vegetarian, do this or that—and hurt his feelings? The time will come when he himself will know what to do.

  Why should I bother? Intellectuals split themselves into so many exterior things; but the only essential is to be able to lose oneself. To be absorbed somewhere….”

  “Here are clear and definite directions how to behave when I am away,” I said when I sat down. “To think always that I am only an instrument, never the doer, to do what is my duty and to try to be absorbed all the time.” And I told him that since last Sunday it is like resting in Him. I am with Pushpa amongst people and I rest in Him in infinite peace…. At first, months ago, it used to happen like a stream, a Call from Him. Now I can “tune-in” so to speak, when I want to. Guruji never gave me the answer when I used to ask if it has to do with the nearness to Him. And for a long time I tried to understand it. And now it seems that I have the inkling of it: it is He merging into me through the mediation, the Grace of the Teacher, and now I begin to learn how to “tune- in” to His stream, or influence, which is probably always there… only the disciple has to learn how to get into it. In other words, the Teacher has to come to my level at first; later when the speed has been increased, I can do it myself.

  All the while I was speaking, no words can describe the quality of the radiance, the tenderness of his smile. Then I knew that what I told him was correct.

 

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