Increasing bliss, increasing struggle
Verona, Italy. August. New news! What a wonderful surprise. Baba will be coming to Europe again! And after such a short gap. Maybe He will come often. Wouldnít that be a delightful dream!
Of course, knowing Baba, the struggle I experienced during His first visit will only be greater this time. So goes the path of bliss.
He is scheduled to come first to Greece with a complete entourage on September 19th. This time it will be a ten day program. Tonight I already started calling all over the continent to begin preparations.
I even had to call Iceland.
...
Hannover. 16 September. Another of His sudden games: at 3:00 in the morning I received a call that the timetable for Babaís European tour had been pushed forward, and that He is to arrive in Athens the
day after tomorrow. Three hours later I was on a southbound train together with two other Dadas.
I almost feel like saying, ìThis is too much.î But I wonít because He knows what Heís doing.
...
Next day. Athens, Greece. When we arrived at the station this morning, we were met by a new Greek Margi.
ìNamaskar, Dadas!î
ìNamaskar. Whatís your name, brother?î ìI Giriish! Trip good?î
ìIt was okay. Traveling is a big part of our life, you know.î ìYah hah!î
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ìGiriish, you must be excited that Baba is coming.î
ìBaba! Oh Baba! Was beautiful!î
ìYes, itíll be beautiful. I guess youíve never seen Baba before, Giriish?î
ìOh Baba! Was so beautiful!î
ìYes. Is His coming still fixed as planned?î ìYes! Coming! Yesterday! Beautiful!î
ìNot yesterday, Giriish. The word is tomorrow.î ìComing yesterday! Coming yesterday!î
We ran to the station telephone, and called the yoga house. It was true: Baba came and left yesterday! How could this be?
We walked to the yoga house, still hoping there was a misunderstanding.
There we met Dada Shaktinath.
ìYesterday the phone rang,î said Shaktinath. ìThe party said, ëI am Dada Ramananda, and we are here with Baba in the airport.í I said, ëYeah, sure. Who is this really?í He said, ëBelieve me, Iím Ramananda.
We came a little early.í I was shocked, but I ran to the airport with two Greek Margis. I was the only Dada here. I was excited, but also worried:
nothing was prepared yet. Not even their visas.
ìBy the time we got there, Baba and all the Dadas and the Didi and Margis in His group were outside the airport waiting for us.
ìAfter we paid our respects to Baba, I asked, ëNo trouble with the visas?í
ìëNo, no trouble,í Dada Ramananda said. ëWe didnít get any visas.í ìëWhat? How did you get out of the airport?í
ìëI still wonder that myself,í Dada Ramananda said. ëI had hoped
you brothers could arrange something for us. But Baba took the initiative.
We were waiting inside the immigration building when He walked out one door and waved for us to join Him. I guess we never would have been able to get the visas. Without Babaís lead we couldnít have entered Greece.í
ìThen we took Baba to the yoga house. Though nothing had been
properly arranged yet, He didnít seem to mind. He was very affectionate.
After a few minutes, Dada Ramananda told me that Baba would
like to bathe and rest. The yoga house was not suitable so then we went to Jayantaís house. Though everything was hodge-podge, Babaís mood was perfect, and so was the darshan in the evening. Early this morning they all left for Egypt.î
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We three Dadas were completely frustrated. We went to the beach for a swim. It was my first leisure-break in months.
...
When I arrived back at the yoga house, I received a phone call from Dada Karunananda.
ìBaba will be arriving in Iceland tomorrow evening from Cairo.
You should immediately fly there.î ìWhat? Itís not possible! Are you sure?î
ìWhat can I say? Ramanandaji called me just now with that information.
Iíve booked my flight to arrive in Reykjavik this evening.
Donít be late.î
ìBut Iíve only got about $200, and the flight will surely cost more than $1000.î
ìThatís your problem.î
When I told the other Dadas, they had a good laugh.
ìThereís no money among the Margis here,î said Shaktinath. ìThis is one of the poorest units in Europe.î
ìThereís no time and thereís no way youíll make it,î another Dada said.
ìWeíll see,î I said.
After about twenty phone calls, and the usual incredible coincidences, I jumped in a taxi. It was thirty minutes before the departure
of the only appropriate flight. Brother Sandiip met me at the airport.
As he handed me the money, he said, smiling, ìFor me is too much, Dada. But I love Baba.î
ìYeah. So do I,î I said, thanking him with a hug.
...
Reykjavik, Iceland. We were rushing like mad to get everything ready in time for Babaís arrival when the phone rang. It was Dada Ramananda.
There would be a change, he said. They would arrive the day after tomorrow.
The phone almost slipped from my hand as I thought about the part of my fare that was ìwastedîóI could have gone by train at least as far as Copenhagen, and saved about $500. Well, I suppose this was a good exercise for developing surrender in Sandiip. And in me.
...
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Two days later. Even though we had two days to prepare, we were still anxiously making last minute arrangements when the phone rang.
It was Ramanandaji.
ìThereís been another change,î he said. ìWe will come tomorrow.î ...
[Authorís note: I later heard the story behind Babaís delay. That morning, Baba and His entourage were in transit at the Copenhagen airport. Without visas, they could not come out to meet the Margis.
By the goodwill of the immigration authorities, however, a special exception was granted, and the Margis were able to enter the transit area
to enjoy His darshan for two hours.
The plane took off for Reykjavik. But after thirty minutes in the
air, the captain announced that difficult weather conditions had suddenly developed. The flight was diverted to Oslo.
In my opinion the highest kiirtans of Europe are found in Oslo. I had wondered why Baba chose not to visit there.
Of course, the group had no visas to enter Norway. All the Dadas
expected to either stay in the transit hall, or otherwise follow the instructions of the airlines. Baba, however, was of a different mind. Without
consulting any of them, He headed for immigration. One of the workers said, ìBaba, excuse me, we have no visas for Norway, so it will be of no use to go through immigration. We might try to speak to the highest authority here.î But Baba paid no attention. He simply stood in the passport line. Their protests unheard, the others also fell into line. When they saw the officer stamping an entry permit in Babaís passport everyone was astonished. They could hardly suppress their laughter as one by one they were all similarly admitted into Norway.
Just after the last Dadaís passport was stamped, however, the officer
seemed to wake up.
ìWait a moment,î he said. ìLet me see your passport again. ...
Whatís this? Thereís no Norwegian visa! No no, this is very bad. All of you Indians, give me your passports back.î
ìAh, but we have friends here in Oslo,î said Dada Ramananda. ìBefore you cancel the visas, allow us first to call our friends. Perhaps
this can be straightened out.î
ìThis is highly irregular,î said the officer. ìWait here.î 231
A higher official was approached, telephone calls were made, and
several unbelieving, shocked Margis came to the airport. As the negotiations proceeded, Baba sat with the Margis and gave a mini-darshan.
Eventually it was decided that Baba, Ramanandaji, and Didi Ananda Prajina would be permitted to enter Norway. The others would have to stay in a hotel arranged by the airlines.
The exuberant Margis and their three guests drove to the house of two Margi couples: Manohar and Jyotsna, and Abaniish and Hansa.
When Baba entered the bedroom where He was to stay, the bed was still unmade from the previous night. It seemed He could not have cared less and was in good humor.
That evening scores of Margis packed into the little house. Though the facilities were unsuitable for Baba to give darshan, the air was full of excitement and devotion.
The next morning Baba returned to the airport. In the airport itself He gave darshan for one hour, thus fully satisfying everyone. (Even the Dadas who had stayed in the hotel were satisfied, having convinced the airline officials to grant them free of charge ìa few shortî international phone calls.]
Spiritual motivation only
Baba fixed Iceland as the site for the only DMC program in Europe during His tour. Iceland is perhaps the most difficult point for
European Margis to reach. And it is certainly not considered a resort island. Moreover, there are fewer Margis in Iceland than in most other European countries. Though He hasnít explained the reason, we guess that there must be a spiritual cause. Certainly there is something distinctive about this island of the midnight sun. Some mystics have written
that Iceland is one of the earthís highest energy centers. Though I feel they may be right, I donít really know. But at least Baba did say this island is one of the few portions of the ancient land of Atlantis which is still above water.
This reminded me of a story about Baba from some years back. A rich Margi had a personal problem and desired Babaís help. When he
was admitted for personal contact, he secretly carried with him a substantial quantity of gold, thinking to offer it to Baba. When he entered
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Baba was sitting on a huge pile of gold coins. Baba said, ìDo you think your riches mean anything to me?î The values of the common person and a Tantric guru are quite different.
...
Upon returning from field walk Ramanandaji noticed some blood on Babaís foot when he was taking off Babaís shoes.
ìBaba, what is this? When did You get injured?î ìIt has been troubling me for several days.î ìBut Baba, You didnít mention it before.î
Baba did not reply. Ramanandaji picked up the shoe and looked inside. He found a nail protruding from the sole.
ìBaba, look at this nail! Why didnít You tell me? We could have fixed it or gotten new shoes.î
He smiled. ìI did not want to disturb you.î
ìSo You destroyed Your foot! Oh, look at it! There must have been so much pain. Now You disturb me anyway! You should have told me the moment the problem came!î
Still smiling, He said, ìRecently I absorbed a large quantity of samskaras while giving personal contacts.61 It was necessary that
Prakriti62 express at least a little something in the balance. If I had informed you of the nail in my shoe, you surely would have eliminated
my discomfiture. But then Prakriti would have had to devise another form of compensation.î
Secret connection
A dozen workers were in Babaís bedroom today, laughing our heads off at His jokes.
At one point, He looked at Dada Rudreshvarananda, who is French by birth, and started speaking in his mother tongue. Though the rest of us understood next to nothing, Rudreshvaranandaji was so tickled by Babaís French mirth, that he literally rolled on the floor in laughter.
Later I came to know that Baba was making absurd comparisons
be-61 Here Baba refers to the fact that during personal contact He relieves disciples of certain samskaras, (reactive momenta or unexpressed reactions) which most impede the individualís spiritual development.
62 Prakriti is commonly defined as ìNature.î More precisely it is the operational principle causing Cosmic Consciousness to express itself.
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tween the objects and the people in the room. This French session went on for perhaps ten minutes.
Afterward I asked Rudreshvaranandaji, ìHow was Babaís French pronunciation?î
ìBetter than my own. Baba spoke with a perfect Paris accent,
whereas I was raised far outside of Paris. I think even His vocabulary exceeds mine.î
ìBut how could He know so much French?î
ìHe surely has a secret direct connection with the Cosmic Funny Bone,î Rudreshvaranandaji replied.
Lost in His shoes
Today was DMC day, and brother Jyotishvar from America had an interesting experience to recount afterwards.
ìI arrived in Iceland three weeks before DMC. Together with a few
others, I worked everyday to prepare for the great event. We worked hard painting, cleaning, organizing, and furnishing Babaís quarters. Although it was fun to do, few people seemed interested in the project, and I wondered if there would be much of a turnout for the DMC. However, as the day of Babaís arrival drew near, Margis began to appear.
When the Dadas arrived, they began asking for a volunteer to guard Babaís house during the DMC (which of course meant missing the DMC), but strangely enough no one was the least bit interested. Even after Babaís arrival, no one could be persuaded to take the duty. Dada
Dharmavedananda, the security in-charge for Europe, asked me to do it. I adamantly refused. I had been working on Babaís house for weeks with little support of the local Margis, and was frustrated that everyone was coming at the last minute to see Baba and was not willing to do any service. Ultimately the Central Dada said I would have to take the duty since I had already attended several DMCs. I was very upset, and even tried to hire some black-belts from the nearby karate school to guard instead of me. But all to no avail.
By DMC time, I was crazy with anger. I was fighting with everyone.
When the last person left for the program, the silence became
unbearable. I was consumed with anger and loneliness, and paced back and forth outside Babaís room like a caged tiger. Finally the pain became intolerable, and I burst into Babaís room.
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Even though I had helped put the room together, I was stunned by what I saw there. The room and all the furnishings were pure whiteó with the exception of the orange lines of a very large pratik (Ananda Marga symbol) that hung from the wall, several orange objects that Baba likes to have on his night table, and one orange rose in a clear vase. The room smelled strongly like perfume, though I doubt any actual perfume was used. The vibration was so thick you could cut it
with a knife. I approached the bed and smelled Babaís pillow; it had a powerful perfume-like smell. Then I noticed one item in the room which was not white or orange: Babaís shoes!
I sat on the floor in front of His shoes in meditation position and stared at them. They were black Indian slippers with pointed toes and were very well worn on the inside. I wondered, ìHow did Baba leave the house with no shoes on?î
Then temptation struck, and I put my hands in those shoes and
closed my eyes. Needless to say, I began to have a very strange experience.
It was disturbed after a few moments, however, by a commotion
outside. I hurried to see what was going on, which was the least I could do considering I was supposed to be guarding the house. I was shocked to find all the Margis returning after what could not have been more than ten minutes! What had happened? Then Babaís car pulled up as the Margis crowded into the house shouting slogans. Had Baba refused to give DMC; why was he back so soon?
Baba got out of the car and walked toward His room where I was now standing dazed and confused, trying to look official without much success. Just as he got to His door, he stopped and turned around. The crowd became very quiet, and Baba said only this: ìI think everyone enjoyed the program?î
ìSo he did give the DMC!î I thought. ìI must have been lost a long time in His shoes.î
Then with the Margis still in a hush, all eyes glued on Baba, He turned His head to the left and, face to face, he looked into my eyes
and smiled a melting smile that said: ìYou thought you could do something without Baba knowing?î
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63 Even at this time some countries were still confused by the Indian governmentís negative propaganda about Ananda Marga. Such countries refused visa applications of any known member of Ananda Marga. Three years later I personally met a British
immigration officer. He told me, ìItís quite true that our governmentís policy was previously
to refuse entry of any foreign national who was known to be a member of Ananda Marga. Due to recent revisions in our information, however, the policy has been revised.
Restriction on entry by Ananda Marga members no longer applies.î The British government eventually became so positive that our London kindergarten received appreciation letters from government-affiliated bodies and received government grants.
The game called money
Late yesterday afternoon Baba asked us, ìBy what route are we traveling to Frankfurt tomorrow?î
Dada Karunananda replied, ìWe will fly via London, Baba.î
ìWhat? Nonsense! Change the flight! The United Kingdom refused my visa application, so I shall not visit there.î
ìBut, Baba,î Karunanandaji pleaded, ìwe will only pass in transit.
î
ìIt doesnít matter! I wonít even touch my toe on that land. It is my fixed policy not to visit any country which rejects my visa application unless and until that countryís government formally invites me.î63 When we left the room, several of us held a quick meeting.
ìThe tickets will have to be rebooked via Copenhagen,î Karunanandaji said. ìBy that route the additional cost for eleven tickets will
be about $5000. Where are we going to get that kind of money by tomorrow morning? Our account is already finished.î
There were plenty of intelligent ideas between us:
ìAnybody know any millionaires?î ìWe could ask the government.î
ìAre the banks still open for negotiating a loan?î ìWe could ask Baba what to do.î
ìLook,î one of us said, ìBaba never tolerates any talk of moneyproblems.
Besides, if He creates a problem, He also has a solution waiting to be found.î
Though not a single good option had arisen, we remained optimistic.
A few minutes later while I was talking with an older Margi sister,
a brother named Alexander, whom I had initiated just three days before, interrupted us.
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ìIt sounds like you have a big financial problem, Dadaji.î
ìIt sounds like you have a big financial problem, Dadaji.î