Heaven in Hell

Rotterdam, Netherlands.

A light rain was falling this evening as our entourage approached our three-story Rotterdam yoga center apartment.

While still standing on the street, Baba muttered something which was meant only for my ears:

The next day, I realized what Baba meant.

The stairways in this house are winding, narrow, and insufficiently lit.

As the two snake-like streams of Margis continuously ascend and descend, they unavoidably press against each other.

Though about 100 of us squeeze and adjust in inappropriately small rooms and hallways, no one minds. There is too much excitement in Baba’s presence for anyone to care about such matters.

Nevertheless, I am constantly reminded of the spiraling passageways entering and departing from the different levels of Dante’s hell.

The water stopped in Baba’s bathroom.

Since He did not complain, it was only discovered when a Margi cleaned His room.

For a man who bathes 3-4 times daily, this was a great inconvenience. Yet He politely tolerated it.

After the water was repaired, He commented, “This is the first time in my life that I had to use a bathroom without water.”

His silent patience with the clumsiness of our arrangements deeply affected me.

Today, Baba mentioned that tandava (Shiva’s dance) should be done with proper paraphernalia.

• In the left hand there should be either be a skull or a snake to represent the force of destruction or death.
• The right hand holds a dagger or burning torch to represent the power of discrimination or life.

He specifically added that the snake should be a living, poisonous snake.

We took this as a cue. Two hours later Melvin was purchased—a beautiful, healthy, poisonous snake.

The next darshan proceeded smoothly until it was time for the brothers to perform tandava.

Viirabhadra (whose name means “the bravest face of God”) jumped fiercely up and down and side to side. In his left hand, Melvin violently twisted and spit.

Some Margis were thrilled while others were horrified as they watched the snake bite Viirabhadra’s hand again and again.

Rather than holding the snake just below the head as he should have, he was holding Melvin in the middle.

Blood began to drip from his hand.

Still the dance continued, the room reverberated to the chant of Baba Nam Kevalam and the rhythmic thumping of the dancers’ feet.

Meanwhile, Baba entered one of His powerful Tantric moods.

He looked on with a calm intensity. The snake bit Viirabhadra 30-40 times. Blood flowed like water dripping from a tap.

At last the chanting stopped and the dancers halted.

Though Baba’s words, “Very good. Very good,” were normal, His voice was deep and penetrating.

Afterward He said nothing about the snake, but we were sure He was pleased.

I was concerned for Viirabhadra, but he was inspired to the depths of his being.

Fortunately, the snake’s poison sacks had been removed.

I shall carry the snake with us everywhere from now on.

The blood was a wonderful touch, but as Tantra has nothing to do with masochism, I will instruct the dancers to hold our undulating friend by the neck during the dance in order to avoid its fangs.

On field walk one sister asked Baba:

Next day.

Since most of the volunteers here are totally inexperienced, I personally had to stand guard-duty just outside the door to Baba’s room while He was giving Personal Contact.

Anchala (the wife of Bodhishvara) was hovering around the door, clearly agonized over the impossibility of her entering Baba’s room.

At one point I had to use the upstairs bathroom so I requested another Dada to cover for me.

A few minutes later I heard a loud yell, followed by continuous shrieking. The sound came from downstairs.

Alarmed, I sprinted forward. The screech became louder. Someone appeared at the top of the stairs, running toward me.

It was Anchala! She was screaming “Baba! Baba!” and dashed past me.

Confused, I went down to Baba’s room.

Immediately, several workers jumped on me saying:

“What?” I was shocked. I turned toward the Dada to whom I had passed my duty.

“I’m sorry. She was too fast…or, rather, I never expected… The brother who was receiving Personal Contact finished, and came out. I… I wasn’t paying proper attention. Suddenly I heard Baba yelling so loud that my hair stood on end. He shouted, ‘GET OUT OF HERE!’ I turned to look through the open door and saw Anchala still lying there fully prostrate with her head and outstretched arms under Baba’s bed. She jumped up like a rabbit hearing a shotgun, and ran out.”

Amsterdam airport. The corridors in this airport seemed exceptionally long.

Yet Baba avoided using the moving sidewalks and escalators.

I asked Dada Ramananda if there was any special reason that Baba walked up the stairs rather than using the escalator? .

While waiting for our plane, Baba told me to sit next to Him. We discussed several subjects. One of these concerned some hearsay about which I had wondered.

“Baba, is it true that You will make a world language in the future?”

“A language suitable for all citizens of this globe will be constituted, yes,” He said.

“Then is it any use for us to learn Esperanto ?”

The key to our hearts

Stockholm, Sweden.

Since that first chaotic experience of Baba’s arrival in Geneva when the security went haywire, our other airport arrivals have been relatively calm and orderly—that is, until Sweden.

A few hours drive south of Stockholm lies the only wholetimer training center outside of India and Nepal.

Considering that these young men and women trainees pass all their time in the depths of a serene forest ashram, who could imagine that they would go so berserk when they saw Baba?

My security forces were completely unprepared for the wild and rapid advance they made toward Him, shouting, “Baba! Baba! Baba!”

Again Dada Ramananda went into action, his whirling arms creating a mean defense. But this time it was far from enough. It looked like Baba would be swamped in the mad rush of His devotees.

Suddenly, as if on cue, though indeed it was totally spontaneous, all the workers in the entourage encircled Baba, joining hands.

Only by a fierce muscular effort were we able to keep Him from being swamped. His smile was particularly maddening for these trainees, most of whom had never physically seen Baba even though they had already fully dedicated their lives for His mission.

Two days later. To a normal mind. Baba’s actions often seem illogical.

But there is a purpose behind every word He speaks, every flicker in His eyes, every tilt of His head. What is the explanation behind His odd conduct here in Sweden?

Due to the presence of the trainees, the devotional wave has been high—yet Baba has refused to give darshan for three days. Every morning and every evening their hearts pound with anticipation, only to fall into frustration and despair each time Baba fails to appear.

Finally this evening, at the time of His last scheduled darshan. He directed His car to drive to the big hall where all the Margis sat. Their happiness when they saw Him enter was so strong that many of them wept uncontrollably.

He keeps the key for releasing our devotional longing by constantly varying His behavior in unexpected manners, and by secretly and silently touching our hearts, even when we are totally away from His physical presence.