An excerpt from Neelam’s book Seeing, Watching, Living with the Master and Being at Home
Bhagwan has barely settled in Juhu and the harassment has begun… somebody’s religious feelings are hurt. We are receiving summons from courts in South Bengal, Kashmir, Bihar, and so on. Any possible means to sandbag His work are being employed. Western sannyasins known to be ‘Rajneesh disciples’ are being blatantly denied entry…
In the evening of October 27, Bhagwan speaks on the matter in Hindi, “One of my friends just informed me from Australia… I got a setback to hear that an Indian ambassador asked a young man, an engineer who is a sannyasin, ‘Why do you want to go to India?’ He said, ‘I want to go to India to learn meditation.’ The Indian ambassador said, that ‘India is no longer a place for learning meditation, yoga, etcetera. Those times are gone.’… And for me India is a symbol of nothing other than a place for learning meditation. It is a university of meditation, and not just today but for centuries it has been… I want to say to India: recognise your real face. You are the country of Gautama the Buddha, and your ambassadors are saying that the doors are now closed for going to India for meditation.”
To add to our woes, any property we find and like in Bombay is either not available or frozen in some legal dispute. But that is not our Achilles heel, it is the polluted Bombay air. The nauseating smell of fish is bothering Bhagwan’s sensitive body, too, adversely affecting His health. He is unwell, still sleeping with great difficulty. There is pain in His bones, problems with balance and tingling sensations all over. His eyesight continues to deteriorate, the twitching of His eyes continues and His optic nerves are pale. While in August and September He only missed giving talks for a few days, now in November, it has been several weeks.
Bhagwan calls me and advises, “I am not feeling well and anyway, not going to speak for the next few days. Go to the Pune Ashram and assess its condition.” The sannyasins in Pune have been persistently inviting Him; westerners, while waiting for their turn to sit in a talk at Sumila, have been staying there too.
Nostalgia overwhelms me as I enter the huge teakwood Ashram Gate, glancing at the fixed structures we built so lovingly in what now seems lifetimes ago. I return to Bhagwan with mixed feelings, “It is lush, green with trees having grown stupendously in these years, but the energy feels depleted, almost grim, and the property neglected.” He unexpectedly responds, “Okay. Let’s go to Pune.”
Consequently, the renovation work at the Ashram picks up pace, especially of the Lao Tzu House, under the coordination of Latifa, a sannyasin since the late 1970s and enthusiastic worker with German precision. Dozens of sannyasins are being sent to Pune; Nandan, Azima, and Kamaal, having been assigned specific tasks, are leaving in days, too. Meanwhile, Sumila stays abuzz with Bhagwan’s divine presence… Today though, it’s decked up extra festive with lavish strings of fragrant flowers and bright-coloured party lights.
Occasion you ask? The 55th birthday of an authentic connoisseur of life! Bhagwan glides over the flower-petal-carpeted path to His chair to speak to an over-excited group of His lovers. A sannyasin asks, “How do You intend to let your ideas grow and spread and blossom, to flower into something more universal, more accepted, more usual? Uncompromising as ever He responds, “You are asking the impossible… I know you love me and you want my message to reach people, but your love is blind. You don’t see the implications of what you are saying… I will have to think of the blind people all around me and adjust to their ideas. It is betraying the truth. Every compromise is a betrayal…”
He goes on to suggest, “The only way is to knock on as many doors as possible, to shout from rooftops hoping that somebody may not be deaf, somebody may not be blind. But I cannot compromise on any point, because it is not a business… So the greatest work for sannyasins is to keep the message pure, unpolluted by you or by others — and wait… keep it in mind never to ask such a question that I should be more acceptable, more respectable, more in agreement with the masses. I cannot be. And it is not stubbornness on my part. It is just that truth cannot compromise. It has never done it; it would be the greatest sin.”
The room seems too tiny to contain today’s elation, so the party moves outside. On a podium set up in Hotel Anand, Prarthana enthrals the gathering of over 500 with a kathak dance and Hina Puts up a scintillating Bharatanatyam performance. Amrit Priya sings ghazals and western musicians play popular Bhagwan songs, dancing along with enthusiasm. We lucky ones return to Sumila for the evening discourse to imbibe Bhagwan’s presence, only to later join the feast organised by Nandan at the Hotel Golden Manor, complete with a lavish dinner spread, cake-cutting, and disco dancing until our feet hurt!
Nostalgic flashback… Earlier in July while unpacking, I discovered Bhagwan’s music collection was missing and informed Him. “Do you have some music?” He enquired. I got exploring right away, fetching Him my tapes of His favourites; ghazals by Mehdi Hassan, Ghulam Ali and Jagjit Singh; qawwalis by Nusrat Ali and Sabri brothers; thumri by Nirmala Devi, Laxmi Shankar, Shobha Gurtu; flute by Hariprasad Chaurasia; Rudra veena by Zia Mohiuddin Dagar; santoor by Shiv Kumar Sharma. I arranged them all nicely in His bedroom. Then, whenever He would ask, I’d play ragas and instrumental music at bedtime, and thumri, qawwalis and ghazals with profound, poetic lyrics during daytime. On a rainy August day He asked for a specific piece, Mehdi Hassan’s ‘Kehna Usey’ and listened to it over and over again: ‘Konpalen fir phoot aayin shaakh par, kehna usey; vo na samjha hai na samjhega kabhi, fir bhi, kehna usey… (Tender shoots have sprouted again on the branch, tell him; neither has he understood nor will he ever; still, tell him…)’
Fast-forward to now… One winter morning, I step into Bhagwan’s room exclaiming, “The Hindi books are ready for publishing in Pune. What are to be their names?” As Bhagwan announces the three names, a smile arises on my face… Konpalen Fir Phoot Aayin, Fir Patto Ki Pajeb Baji, and Fir Amrit Ki Boond Padi – metaphoric phrases from the same tape.
January 3, 1987. We are scheduled to leave tomorrow to Pune. The trip has been meticulously organised, every planned move is jotted down in minute detail: the number of flower-decked cars, the order in which the cars are to leave, who is to sit in which car, who will be accompanying Bhagwan, etcetera.
Bhagwan calls me after 10pm in the night, and, as is to be expected of my beloved Master, notifies me, “I want to leave now.”
Huh?! He looks ready enough to walk out this very instant and get in a car. I plead with Him, “Okay! Okay! Just give me an hour and I will see whatever maximum I can get ready.”
I call the Pune Ashram in-charge to expect us seven hours early.
Things seem to be moving just as originally planned. Our caravan takes off at midnight.
It is the darkest juncture of the night. After riding the roads for a few hours, the car finally pulls up to the cosy sight of familiar faces. It is almost 4am. Getting out of the car, I animatedly notify everyone, “Just a few minutes now!” Hundreds of sannyasins come swarming in from all directions and quickly line up along the pathway, accompanied by guitars, tambourines and the whole shebang, their hearts racing in ecstatic enthusiasm.
And… in rolls the Mercedes with Manu behind the steering wheel and Nirvano on the passenger seat; Bhagwan is asleep on the back seat, lying stretched out on His left side, left hand under His head. Bhagwan returns to the Pune Ashram after 2043 long days. The whole Ashram is lit up with bliss. The pathway is bursting with celebration from the Gateless Gate all the way to Lao Tzu House. The car finally comes to a halt and Bhagwan slowly rises. A dozen or so sannyasins stand in a semi-circle on the left side of the car to welcome Bhagwan. Milarepa is stringing his guitar and crooning songs. The car door opens to the vision of Bhagwan. Poised as ever, His hands arrange His beard and then fold into a namaste before joining the gaiety, infusing it with His energy. I see Nandan, Kamaal, Latifa, Swabhav, Azima and others jumping in a frenzy of elation.
Several minutes later Bhagwan walks towards His room. Nirvano is getting Him settled and I, along with some friends, are figuring out which rooms to stay in and where to find tea, having arrived five hours earlier than scheduled! Nandan asks, “Why didn’t you call us as soon as Bhagwan preponed the travel plan? It would have given us a few extra hours to prepare.” “We suspected that Sumila’s phones were tapped. Hence, I instead stopped on the way to phone and let you know,” I reply. I am barely done catching up with old friends when I hear alarming news…
It is 8am on this Sunday morning and I am running towards Bhagwan’s room. An armed police party has arrived at the Ashram with a court order. Tathagat, Swabhav and Laxmi are speaking with the two Assistant Police Commissioners and we realise that we cannot stop them from speaking personally with Bhagwan. I inform Nirvano and we escort them reluctantly towards Bhagwan’s bedroom, where He is still asleep. Nirvano paces ahead of me to wake Him up as I try to stall the men for a minute or so.
They order Him to leave Pune immediately, alleging that being a controversial person, His presence may provoke violence in the city. Bhagwan, still sitting in His bed, rips up the papers they had handed to Him and thunders, “I am an Indian citizen and can live anywhere I want. Nobody can ask me to leave. No riot has ever happened in Pune because of me. Now you leave!”
The tremors make the senior police officials shudder and they stand frozen until Nirvano intervenes, “Tea?” The shaken commissioners are gently guided out to their relief!
Later, we learn that Pune police had been waiting at the city border, all set to prohibit Bhagwan’s entry by serving Him Section 144 of the Indian Penal Code, but Bhagwan’s last-minute change of plan foiled their strategy!
Suraj Prakash, who came with us from Bombay, has just received a phone call from his family and he tells us, “This very morning, perhaps to prevent Bhagwan from leaving Bombay, my bungalow was surrounded by policemen! When they were informed that Bhagwan had already left, they demanded searching the house and caused a ruckus for over an hour. I just can’t believe how Bhagwan’s own country is treating Him! First the Hindu fanatic groups write offensive letters against Him to the Chief Minister, then they make fake phone calls pretending to be policemen to scare and spy on us. They even threatened to burn me, my family and my house along with Him. It is unbelievable that the very police who had promised us protection from the fanatics would do such a thing. So bizarre!”
Laxmi stays calm and suggests hiring the renowned high court lawyer Ram Jethmalani, our legal advisor since the 1970s. Civil liberties representatives are contacted, ensuing intense legal action; by Monday, we finally procure a stay order for Bhagwan. My God! What a beginning!
There has been so much commotion ever since we arrived yesterday. Finally settling in, later in the afternoon Bhagwan says, “Neelam, show me my garden.” I take His hand and begin walking with Him. As expected, Lao Tzu garden is wild, flora growing at its own will, free of human intrusion. The gardeners clean the path and tend to the vegetation, rather than pruning or cutting to squeeze the plants into human design.
Bhagwan takes each step lovingly, as if exchanging greetings with the trees and plants who seem to be revelling in His return after all these years. After completing a round of the garden, He asks me, “My three trees are missing, by now, they would’ve become so big. Where are they?” and points towards three specific locations. Clueless, I reply, “I do not know Bhagwan. Let me find out.”
At the first chance, I run to Swabhav, but he is just as oblivious. Then another ashram resident updates us: “When Jayanti bhai was ashram in-charge, a long-time local sannyasin requested a souvenir from Bhagwan’s garden. Three small trees were then gifted and transplanted.” Aw! Even after so many years, Bhagwan noticed the absence of three small trees amid all this thick foliage! Tears well up in the eyes of all of us and I promptly share the information with Bhagwan. Knowing the trees are treasured and taken care of, He nods an ‘okay’. Such benevolence on young, silent trees, what to say of His grace on His ‘human’ sannyasins…
Excerpted from Chapter 9 and 10 from Ma Yoga Neelam’s book, Seeing, Watching, Living With The Master and Being at Home
More excerpts from this book
Reviews
- Being at Home – by Dhiren (November 2024)
- Being at Home – by Sarita (November 2022)
Seeing, Watching, Living with the Master and
Being at Home
by Ma Yoga Neelam
Launch: 11 December 2022
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