Interest in Numbers

Mother always showed a keen interest in numbers. However busy she might be, certain combinations would not escape her attention. For instance, when she wrote the date 24.10.53, she pointed out to me that it contained all the figures from one to five.

On 27th February 1972, she remarked that from whatever direction you read the date, from left or right, it is 2,7,2,7,2.

Very Precious

5.11.1972

The niece of our Joshibhai (Laboratory) used to bring something special to be offered to Mother each time she visited the Ashram. On the last occasion, she brought a box containing 1111 blessing packets arranged beautifully in square marbled envelopes. In each envelope was a golden packet with a heart-shaped window; within were placed flower petals. Mother was very happy and named them “Golden Heart Blessing Packets”. With a memorable expression she placed both hands over the box and moved her hands over it from one end to the other, over and over again, commenting, “pretty”, “beautiful”. When the girl left the room, Mother held the box near her chest with both hands. Looking at me, she said, “Pour moi, pas pour vous” (For me, not for you). Then she gave me the box saying, “Keep it very carefully; very precious, very precious. Give them when I ask.”

But as you know she used them very rarely. She has left them for us. As I look back, I understand why she asked me to keep them carefully and why she did not use them freely.

Speaking about blessing packets, I am reminded about the special packets of Divine’s love. You remember once Kamala wanted plastic boxes for the work and you arranged for them. Kamala would fill a box with packets and send it to Mother or give it personally. How happy Mother was, each time she received a box! It was a great privilege for Kamala. At some stage Mother stopped using these packets. I could not understand why she was still sending the Divine’s love flowers for making packets, though she was not using them. The collection went on growing.

Then on the occasion of Kali Puja day in 1972, she said she would give these Divine’s love blessing packets to all. It was on 5.11.1972. She distributed them freely.

Money for the Mother

1973

On February 13, X, who was getting ready to go on a tour of America, came to discuss his plans with the Mother. He told Mother that he would bring one hundred million dollars for Auroville and ten million dollars for Mother.

Later, on the 3rd of March, when he came to bid goodbye to Mother she told him:

“Don’t speak too much. Be careful.”

A Petal of the Red Lotus

24.4.1973

The Mother took one petal of a red lotus, held it in the closed palms of her hands and concentrated for a considerable time. Then she held the petal pressed to her chest, looked at me and said: “This is for you, Champaklal.”

And then she smiled.

Mother’s Life-Line

17.11.1973

I have said little about the later years with the Mother, though some incidents were very interesting. I will say only a bit about the last day.

It was between 4.30 and 5 p.m. Kumud was giving fruit juice to Mother. She was on one side of Mother’s chair and I was on the other side, waiting to help Kumud if needed.

All of a sudden without any forethought I took Mother’s hand in mine and saw her life-line. Kumud asked what I was doing. I told her what I saw and added: “Oh, it is such a short line! But Mother has lived much longer than is indicated by the line!”

I was greatly surprised. Sri Aurobindo had a very long life-line; still he left his body early. And in Mother’s case, though she had a very short one, yet she lived so long – for us, giving herself so freely, showering her Grace so abundantly on us!

And, as you know, that was the day she left her body, at 7.25 p.m. It was only her will that prompted me to take up her hand and see her palm and that too on the very day! What Grace!

After Mother’s Mahasamadhi

Those of us who were attending on the Mother did not shed a single tear on her passing away. She had prepared us for it a long time ago.

You may ask, “How did she prepare you?” I am unable to explain it. And the days pass so quickly. Though the Mother’s absence in a physical body cannot be denied, yet I do not feel at any moment of the day or night that she is not present.

When I look at it, I am surprised to see myself in the state in which I am. I feel her presence even more concretely now than when she was physically present. It is very, very, very concrete. Only one with the right vision perceives or feels what Mother has done by leaving that physical body – and the work she is doing. It is not an imagination. It is a living experience.

I live in her infinite Grace! Bliss! Bliss! Bliss – in body and in mind! Wonderful! Wonderful! Simply wonderful! I am more peaceful and calm than ever before.

The Lord’s Infinite Grace is showering on all, at every moment. It is not my belief but my direct perception.

“I Am There”

Ever since Mother left her physical body, known and unknown persons have been asking for something touched by her. Once someone came and said, “Please give me something touched by the Mother; it will help me very much in sadhana.” I saw that he was sincere. I also remembered seeing him with Mother upstairs. Now, you know how devotees always wanted to place their head in Mother’s lap but some lacked the courage to do it. To some of them I used to say, “Place your head in Mother’s lap.” This person was one of them. So I asked him about it. He was so happy to recall that occasion and said: “Champaklalji, I am very grateful to you for ever. You asked me to lay my head in Mother’s lap. I would never have dared to do it myself. And how she caressed me!”

C: “Oh, then you are very fortunate. But you do not have anything touched by the Mother?”

He: “No, Champaklalji, that is why I am praying for it.”

C: “What about your head? Has it not been touched by Mother? You are always carrying it and it remains with you all the time. Nobody can take it away from you. Is it not so?”

He: “Yes, you have opened my eyes today. I now understand how the inner life is more important than the outer.”

On a similar occasion, another person said to me: “Of course she has blessed me with both her hands. And more. First she placed her hand on her own heart and then she placed her palm on my chest, gently pressed it with one finger and said: ‘See there, inside – I am there.”’

Here also I had to draw his attention to the fact that Mother’s touch was stamped on his body and asked him what more he wanted. He was deeply moved; he closed his eyes and folded his hands.

“Mother does not Like”

We often hear people saying that Mother does not like this or does not like that, because she once said such and such a thing; or that Mother once did this in this way and so it must be done only and always in this particular way.

But those who have carefully observed Mother’s actions know that it is childish to talk in that way. Whatever she did or said depended upon the circumstances, the work, the persons involved in or connected with it, and many other considerations. There was never any insistence or rigidity in her views or actions or expectations.

There was a time when Mother showed a strong distaste for artificial flowers. I remember watching her reaction in the Prosperity room when for the first time these flowers were offered to her. Normally Mother used to receive in her hands everything that was offered to her, useful or not useful; she would either carry them herself or give them to me to carry as I followed her back to her room. But in the case of these artificial flowers she left them there itself, though she liked the person who had offered them. Her expression was as if some unwelcome thing had entered the Ashram.

Years passed. People started bringing various kinds of artificial flowers in different colours. And believe me, Mother looked happy to receive them and praised them, admiring the skill with which they were made. She even started keeping some in her room. People in the Ashram also began to make such flowers.

Supposing I had left the Ashram immediately after the scene in the Prosperity room and came back now, after some decades, and saw the long row of plastic flowers in front of the Mother’s couch in the Meditation Hall, what would I say? Naturally I would express my amazement at what the Ashramites were doing,– exactly the opposite of what the Mother liked! And not having known all that had happened in between my departure and my arrival, who could say I was wrong?

Truth to tell, no one can say what Mother and Sri Aurobindo liked or did not like, wanted or did not want. For, I suppose, they had no real likes or dislikes, no wants or otherwise. Whatever was to be done in a particular circumstance or at a particular time, that they did or made us do.

Grace through Her Photograph

X came to me with a photograph of the Mother which I had given to the Press for printing on the birthday folders for 1982. “Do you really like this photograph?” he asked me. It was obvious that he not merely disliked it, he was convinced it was inappropriate on birthday folders. He had come to me only after others in the Press supported his disapproval. But I replied emphatically, “Yes.” He kept quiet and went away. At that time I did not explain anything more to him, but later I realised that I ought to have disclosed what I experienced on seeing this photograph. So I wrote it down in a letter to him along with my views on the subject but somehow never sent my letter.

Now I am writing it all down here.

This photograph was not created by the imagination or emotion of an artist. Nor is it that Mother struck a meditative pose at the time of taking the photograph. It was taken when the Mother was still in her physical body and she was actually meditating. I suppose you can see this. The Mother has entered deep, very deep within. Those who succeed in uniting their consciousness with the Mother’s will definitely get some experience. Of course everything depends on their receptivity. There is a great possibility that those who are bound by dogmas, imprisoned by the four walls of their beliefs, whose consciousness is more or less inert, will not like this photograph. So I knew there would be those who would dislike it. In fact some even expressed their dislike to Mother. Later she told me, “Some people feel I look like a Marwadi bride!” and laughed. But in front of those who expressed their dislike of this photo, she just kept quiet. I know that Mother herself liked this photo and kept looking at it for a very long time.

If you look at this photograph freely, without preconceptions, you will be surprised to find that what you initially disliked you will begin to like and, as you concentrate, it will gradually take you deeper and deeper, revealing many wonderful secrets of inner life. I repeat that you will have to keep your consciousness completely free from all narrowness.

By Her infinite Grace, the revelation came to me spontaneously. That darshan gave me unbounded ananda and made me experience absolute peace. That is why it was selected for the birthday card. To those who have a sincere and intense aspiration to experience the original aspect represented in the photo, the Gracious Mother will surely reveal herself. This is not a mere belief.

All this reminds me of an incident narrated by Sri Aurobindo. When he visited Chanod-Karnali, he had a living vision of Mahakali in a stone image in a small temple on the Narmada. So many visit the same temple but how many have this living darshan? Similarly, we have all heard that Sri Ramakrishnadev even talked with the image of Kali at Dakshineshwar. And again there is the idol of Jagannatha in the world-famous temple at Puri. Nothing need be said of its outward form and colour etc. – anyone can see it. Yet we hear that Chaitanyadev sat in front of it in a long upasana (worship) and obtained a living vision of the Deity.

It is not easy to write about this photograph of the Mother, still I could not help writing about it.

Arrangement of Their Photographs

Nowadays, I am asked by people to comment on the placing of a particular photograph of the Mother alongside one of Sri Aurobindo’s: “How is this arrangement? Is it all right?”

At first, I used to remain silent, but sometimes when asked, I give my opinion. For instance, Mother was against placing her photograph with a veil [taken in 1905 or 1906] alongside one of Sri Aurobindo taken in 1950. It is all right if they are kept in the same room but in different places. She would say, “It is not proper to keep a photo of a later period beside one of earlier days. I do not like it.” Mother had specifically told some people that the main consideration is to keep contemporaneous photos of both together.

Now, I will give you an instance of how she conveys the same thing even at present through means other than physical words. Just the day after I wrote about this, someone brought two combinations of Mother’s and Sri Aurobindo’s photographs arranged by period just as Mother had wanted it! And what is more, he did not do this just for printing them in a book; he told me that even in his house he places them in that way. How interesting! By Mother’s grace two combinations came to me on the same day.

When we went to Calcutta we visited the solitary cell in Alipore Jail where Sri Aurobindo was detained in 1908-09. We saw that a photograph of Sri Aurobindo was kept there along with framed pictures of many gods and goddesses. I did not like it but I did not speak about it to anyone. As we came out, the Jail Superintendent met us near the gate and asked whether I had liked the cell. I kept quiet. Even when he repeatedly asked, “Please give me your opinion”, I still did not answer, just smiled. Then he pleaded for some suggestions so that he could improve the condition of the cell. I felt that he was kind and sympathetic and really wanted to know. So I thought that I should tell him my reactions. I liked his attitude and wrote on a piece of paper: “I am writing because you have asked my opinion, but others will perhaps not like my suggestions.”

He repeated that he wanted my suggestions to improve the condition of the cell. Then I wrote, “Here there should only be the picture of Sri Aurobindo of that time. Not of any gods and goddesses.” He asked: “Not even of the Mother?” I wrote, “Yes. Not even Mother’s. Only Sri Aurobindo’s and that too only of the days when he stayed here.” He said, “We shall do it.” Kishorilal, who was with us, offered to send that photograph to him.

I am not against pictures of gods and goddesses. Let those who want to worship them do so. But I do not think that those pictures are drawn by someone who realised them in those forms. All I say is that in the atmosphere of that room, it is not appropriate to place imaginary pictures beside the photograph of Sri Aurobindo – after all that room was his tapobhumi [place of yoga].

The second time we had the opportunity to visit Calcutta, we enquired whether the pictures of gods and goddesses had been removed from Sri Aurobindo’s cell. And, if the jail authorities were willing to keep Sri Aurobindo’s photograph, we would take it there. We were told that the Superintendent had removed all the other pictures. But at that time we did not have a photograph of Sri Aurobindo ready with us to take there.

When we visited Sri Aurobindo Bhavan, I saw a photograph there and asked them to give it if they could. They courteously gave it to us. Then we went with it to the jail. Incidentally, that day was Kishorilal’s birthday. When we entered the cell, we found that the same old photo was kept on a soiled white piece of cloth spread on an old bench – God alone knows whether that cloth had ever been washed! It was not only very old, it was covered with blotches. But I had with me a beautiful gold coloured cloth for making folders given to me by Prabhaben, Kishorilal’s wife. So it happened that on Kishorilal’s birthday we replaced that dirty old cloth with a new golden one. And Kishorilal promised to bring a special pedestal from Pondicherry to replace that ageing bench.

Now the caretaker of that cell was worshipping Sri Aurobindo, so he had kept there a few books of Sri Aurobindo as well as other things. But everything was in an unseemly disorder. We wanted to arrange everything – photograph, books, and the other things – so nicely that the beauty and sanctity of the place could easily be maintained. A small table with a formica top was made, so that flowers could be arranged around the photograph kept on the top, and the books and other things could be kept in the lower shelves. We had promised to give a new photograph along with this table which was designed in the classical Indian style. Finally, we installed that photograph on 15th April, 1979, the Bengali New Year Day.

Now to give an instance of how the Mother arranges everything without any outward intervention. We had approached Sanjivan for a photograph of Sri Aurobindo of that period – we wanted him to print a new copy. But at that time his stock of photographic paper was exhausted; so Kishorilal offered to make the necessary arrangements. The next problem was, which photograph was to be chosen? I came across one taken in jail, but it was a profile and we wanted one in which he is looking at us. But we had no choice so we asked Sanjivan to print that one. While we were talking, I saw some magazines lying on his table; along with them was a booklet in which there was a photograph of that period in which Sri Aurobindo is facing us and his eyes are beautiful. So I asked Sanjivan to print that photograph and not the one in profile.

Sanjivan quietly agreed to do it. But a few days later Priti came to me and said, “In the size you want, the face will become larger than life. Will it look nice? Sanjivan-da also thinks it will not look nice when enlarged so much.” I was puzzled. I wanted to keep as large a photo as possible. Usually, unless it is indispensable, I do not insist on getting something done in my way against the opinion of the person to whom the work is entrusted. Besides, Sanjivan was an artist. It was very difficult to make him do something against his wish. Yet Mother made me say, “Tell Sanjivan to make it big, I want it to be big.” Priti was disappointed by my insistence and again she said, “The face will become so big that it will not look nice.” But I insisted on making it big.

Finally, the photograph was ready. Priti said, “It looks very beautiful. We never expected that it would turn out so nice. Sanjivan-da also likes it very much.” Everybody liked it. It was so lifelike! Someone who had been to the cell before the photo was installed went there afterwards and remarked that now the whole atmosphere of the cell has been transformed.

It was Mother’s Grace that arranged everything so well.

Experience of the Grace

A small girl, Rupa, was paralysed. She was so sweet and beautiful that even an enemy would be charmed by her. Her one dream was to go to Kashmir at any cost. She begged her parents to take her there. One winter, Rupa was so adamant that they had to take her to Kashmir immediately. She kept staring at the mounds of snow everywhere and then insisted on walking on it. What a wonder! She started to dance! What had happened? A new life was begun? As though some divine energy was flowing into her! Thereafter she began to walk normally once again.

I have had the same experience. Normally walking is painful for me. But the Mother’s Grace once made me climb 1500 steps in the Himalayas. Another time, in a garden in Delhi, she made me walk for an hour and ten minutes without feeling any pain or exhaustion! Yet, normally it is very painful even to walk for ten to fifteen minutes.

On Kamala

Roshan: “Dadaji, could you please write something about Kamala and her father Kashibhai? How did she come to the Ashram? Why is Kamala always with you?”

C: “You want me to write about Kamala? All right, I will do it.”

Childhood

Our little ashram on the island of Kansia, a few miles from Bharooch, stood on the land of Kamala’s father Kashibhai. When I joined that ashram in 1920, Kamala was a healthy and lively child of about five who, innocent and without inhibitions, roamed about freely in the huge estate. Once, the ladies there tried to restrain her with their ideas of dress and behaviour, but her father let her choose whether to ‘learn’ the worldly ways or be free. She, of course, preferred her freedom and happily continued with her spontaneous ways. In the courtyard there were many berry trees and Kamala used to collect the best ones and bring them for me. Though many others lived in the ashram, she gave them only to me.

Her elder sister Yashoda, who later married Vallabhbhai Patel’s son, was also staying there. Kashibhai has also done a lot for Yashoda.

The ashram ran smoothly and peacefully. But once a tragedy occurred. Himmatlal, the son of a relative of one Kesarimal (who was serving the Nawab of Palanpur) was very mischievous. He did not pay much attention to his studies and never listened to anyone – a thoroughly capricious boy. He was entrusted to Punamchandbhai’s care. He adjusted well to our ashram atmosphere and there was a remarkable change in his behaviour. He listened to what he was told and behaved affectionately with all of us. But once he did something wrong and Narayanbhai, who was looking after Kashibhai’s land, gave him a solid slap. At that time Himmatlal went away quietly but afterwards he set fire to a number of large haystacks, resulting in a loss of almost one lakh rupees – a colossal sum in those days. Just when Himmatlal started the fire Kamala’s father was in a nearby ravine, on his way by foot to Bharooch. He saw the flames shooting up in the sky and sensing some mishap rushed back. What he witnessed was a shocking, unimaginable scene. But there was not the slightest sign of pain or sorrow on his face. It was a habit with him to always chant ‘Hari Om’. Then too, watching the huge flames, he only uttered ‘Hari Om’. I remember that vividly – it reminded me of Janak Videhi the legendary philosopher-king, father of Sita. There is a lot that can be written about Kashibhai’s virtuous character. He helped many people in many ways. For instance, he willingly purchased the train tickets for those who wanted to come to Pondicherry but had no money. Later, when he settled in Pondicherry, he used to send the Bulletin and books of Mother and Sri Aurobindo to all those who were interested. He loved to do such work.

I recall another incident connected with Kashibhai. He was sending the Bulletin to someone. After some time, that man requested him not to send the Bulletin or any Ashram literature to him. Needless to say, it was Kashibhai who was paying the subscription and sending the books, and yet that man wrote thus because he was a staunch Vaishnavite and did not want any other literature to influence the students studying in his college.

To come back to our story. As I have said, instead of treating Himmatlal with understanding and affection as had been decided, Narayanbhai had slapped him. And the boy returned a bigger slap by resorting to arson. This terrible slap became the cause of our leaving Kansia. Narayanbhai was so worked up by Himmatlal’s behaviour that he declared he could not even bear to look at the boy, to the point that he was afraid that some day he might even kill him. So we decided to leave Kansia and settle in Patan. Except this episode, my remembrances of Kansia are memorable and joyful.

Kashibhai came with all his children to Pondicherry on 20 February 1928. Later, during one of the evening talks Sri Aurobindo remarked, “Kashibhai wishes to go to Heaven with his whole family.”

Mother’s Grace on Kamala

The Mother has showered her grace on her children in such a way that every child can say, “This is a special grace of the Mother for me alone. For none else she has done this.” Kamala is indeed one of those children. Kamala does not write about herself, but I am interested in writing about her for two reasons. Firstly, it was the Mother who sustained my interest in Kamala, and secondly, recollecting incidents of Mother’s grace to her is at the same time a worship of the Mother.

In the beginning Kamala did not speak when she was in Mother’s presence. Then when she asked Mother for some work she was given the work of sweeping my room. Thereafter Mother kept giving her one work after another.

Offering fruits. In those days, Kashibhai had asked his son Maheshbhai, who was living in Bombay, to send a basket of fruits and nuts (oranges, chikoos, grapes, almonds, pistachios, etc.) every week from there for Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. After Maheshbhai left Bombay to live in Bharooch, Kashibhai arranged to get these fruits from Madras. You might ask what was done with these baskets coming so regularly. Kamala was entrusted the work of washing these fruits in water with potassium permanganate, wiping and arranging them in three big cupboards. Then she had to keep a daily check on their condition. With the grace of the Mother, Kamala’s fingers became so sensitive that they would touch just that part which was getting spoiled and thus pick out and keep aside the rotting ones. Every day, I would extract three big jugs of orange juice. It took me about an hour to do this and a large basin was filled with orange peels. The Mother gave this juice to Sri Aurobindo and also to sadhaks. Kashibhai considered himself blessed for this rare opportunity given to him and his family to serve Sri Aurobindo and the Mother.

Counting flowers. As you go upstairs to Sri Aurobindo’s Room, you first step into a vestibule with doors on two sides and one in front which on Darshan days is covered by a life-size photo of Mother (this door leads to the old bathroom). The door to the right opens into the “long passage” between Sri Aurobindo’s room and the Meditation hall. It was in that passage that Mother asked Kamala to sit to count Aspiration flowers. Interestingly, from childhood Kamala had a special attraction for these flowers; she loved to gather them daily from the school garden and put them on her teacher’s table.

Tray of Tender love flowers. There was a glass kidney-tray in which Mother would arrange Tender love flowers and keep them on the dressing table in her dressing room. At first she insisted on doing it herself but afterwards she gave that work to Kamala.

Bowl of roses. The Mother used to arrange all the roses in a bowl, trimming the stems herself. This work too she gave to Kamala. A large basin of roses was kept in the Darshan Room at night. Mother wanted these roses early in the morning. For this Kamala needed to come to the Darshan Room at two o’clock at night. But how was she to come from her room in Bakery house (now part of School) every night at that time? So Mother permitted Kamala to sleep in my room in Library House since, after Sri Aurobindo’s accident [in 1938], I slept in Sri Aurobindo’s Room. Kamala worked from two to four in the morning cutting and arranging those roses. Thus every night while coming in and going out she could have Sri Aurobindo’s darshan because she had to enter from the ‘long passage’.

Accompanying Mother far Pranam. A unique opportunity Mother gave Kamala was to accompany her when she went downstairs for Pranam.

Separating grapes: Mother gave Kamala the work of separating good green grapes from bad ones. The very first day, she made Kamala sit in the upstairs Meditation hall. Kamala would enter through the main door opening into the vestibule and pass through the partition in the long passage and turn right to go to the Meditation hall. (The door at the top of the staircase, opening directly into the Meditation hall was always kept shut.) In the evening she was asked to work in Sri Aurobindo’s bathroom (now my room). In those days there was no door between Sri Aurobindo’s Room and his bathroom; the curtain was put there after Sri Aurobindo’s Mahasamadhi. Thus every morning while coming inside and going back, Kamala was fortunate to have Sri Aurobindo’s darshan.

Pranab’s bowl of flowers. The Mother used to arrange a bowl of flowers for Pranab. Later she gave this work to Kamala. After the bowl was ready, Mother and Kamala would together place the bowl on a piece of cloth and tie it up into a bundle which was kept for giving to Pranab. Of course there were many changes in this work later.

Polishing furniture: After Sri Aurobindo’s Mahasamadhi, for some time, Kamala was wiping the furniture in Sri Aurobindo’s room. X, one of the sadhaks working upstairs, asked me what polish Kamala was using. I replied that she did not use any, she only wiped the wood. X did not believe it and said, “She must be using something, otherwise the furniture could not remain in a shiny condition.” X has a lot of experience in cleaning and polishing furniture and so when he did not believe it, I asked Kamala whether she was using polish.

K: “I don’t use any polish at all.”

C: “I believe you but since X is sceptical, I want to know how you wipe so well.”

K: “For such furniture, one needs a very smooth cloth and while wiping, it is very essential to give an even pressure. But one must have an instinct for. it. If you give too much pressure the original shine will fade. Nor should it be done too lightly, for then it would not be properly wiped. I do this spontaneously, thanks to Mother’s grace. I do not use anything else.”

But when I repeated this to X, he still did not believe it!

Later, while talking to someone about how most of us are bound by our beliefs and cannot appreciate anything else, I related the above incident. X, who was present, at once reacted with, “Yes, yes, I still do not believe it. Kamala is certainly using some kind of polish.” I said, “I remain present when she cleans the furniture, and I have seen with my own eyes.” Still X went on saying, “I do not believe it.”

Stitching Mother’s cloth. This is the most memorable among the constant acts of Mother’s grace to Kamala. Sometimes, after Mother would go into her bathroom and shut the door, she would suddenly come out with a small piece of cloth and tell Kamala: “Kamala, stitch this immediately; I need it just now.” I used to wonder: Mother has so many handkerchiefs and clothes, so what is the need for this one just now? (But even as I write this, the scene comes up before my eyes: Love is pouring out of Mother’s eyes and her words are spoken with such a tender affection! But then things like this will interest only those with natures like mine.) After some time Mother would come out again and, giving her beautiful smile, take the cloth Kamala would have stitched by then. I did not then understand the reason behind Mother’s behaviour, but now I do.

You may ask: “So tell us, what have you now understood?” What can I answer? All I can say is that Mother never explained such things to me in words. When the time arrived I understood deeper reasons for them. Others can also understand them in the same way. Or, I might say, those who really want to understand will be led to it by the Mother herself.

I was interested in observing all this on two counts: One was to see the Mother’s ways of working; the other to see Mother showering her grace on Kamala.

You have asked why Kamala alone is all the time with Champaklal. I have written all the above at length to show that by showering her infinite grace Mother has given me to Kamala from her childhood and has still kept me with her.

Much more can be written about the Mother’s relation with Kamala. But one can understand it better by reading the birthday messages of Mother and Sri Aurobindo to Kamala and their correspondence with her¹²³. How fortunate she has been to have their grace which still continues to pour on her.

Kamala’s room: When the Bakery house was to be vacated for the sake of the School, Kamala was among those living there who had to move out. Mother allotted her own storeroom (above Bula’s room) to Kamala. And she asked Kamala to come to the Darshan Room at night for her work with roses, directly from the terrace between her new room and the Darshan Room. There was no need any more to use the staircase in the Meditation hall.

Later Mother wished to build a room on this terrace in which she wanted to preserve all her photo albums in special cupboards. She told me that once the terrace is covered with a roof, Kamala could come and go even on rainy days. But on the terrace there was already a wooden stairway going up to Mother’s second-floor apartment, made specially for going up there for any repair work. (It was only later that it began to be used on Darshan days.) Since no final decision was taken, the room on the terrace was not built.

About My Silence

Man’s normal daily interactions proceed through the medium of words and gestures. This medium is so handy and easy that we do not realise its importance and it is to a great extent even misused.

When I decided to set aside the medium of speech, it was natural that people were perplexed and sometimes I was asked about it. A friend wrote to me asking for an explanation: “Some people are saying that Champaklal has been keeping mauna because of some throat disease and Sri Aurobindo asked him to observe silence so that it might not spread.” But when there never was any such disease, where was the question of its spreading? Secondly, Sri Aurobindo left his body in 1950 and the Mother in 1973, while I began to observe silence in 1975. Where then is the question of Sri Aurobindo or even the Mother asking me to keep mauna? There are people who like such gossip; they won’t believe the truth even if I told them myself. There is no basis in the talk about Sri Aurobindo asking me to keep silent. It is like this saying in Gujarati:

The wind dislodged a roof-tile;

a startled dog began to bark;

in the resulting commotion

someone cried: “I saw a thief!”

The external quiet that results from the control of speech is very helpful for inner peace and growth. Hot discussions and exchanges give rise to low and harmful vibrations which vitiate the whole atmosphere. Only that which is useful and necessary for the sadhana should be spoken and that too with full awareness. Gossip and back-biting are a great hindrance. When we remain silent how many difficulties are overcome! It was with this understanding that even while serving Sri Aurobindo and the Mother, I desired to observe silence and prayed to Mother for her permission. But she did not consent, because my silence would have affected my daily work with her.

In the month of October 1975, at times while talking my voice would suddenly grow soft and faint without my feeling any pain or discomfort but in a few moments it would automatically become normal. I doubt if anyone’s attention was drawn towards it, though it was to my benefit as I could shorten the conversation. I wished to find out why this was happening. I wanted a specialist in Madras to check my voice, but Nirod said, “It is not necessary to go to Madras just for this. There is nothing wrong with your voice.” Nonetheless I persisted. Then Nirod said that he and Dr. Bose would accompany me. I said it was not necessary. He insisted on coming as he felt it was his duty. He said, “Mother has asked us to look after you.” I firmly refused: “It is absolutely unnecessary.”

Kamala and Counouma¹²⁴advised me to travel in a car, but I preferred to go in the bus, because it was less expensive. The doctor in Madras was a close friend of Doraiswamy and was also an acquaintance of Counouma. (The doctor had earlier visited Pondicherry and also taken a photo of me with his wife and friend.) So all arrangements for the trip were made by Counouma who sent Purushottama, a young sadhak who assisted him in his daily work, as my escort. Puru took very good care of me. We returned on the same day, after consulting the doctor. This was the first occasion when I went out of Pondicherry.

Had Nirod and Bose accompanied me, some ashramites without ascertaining the facts would have concluded that the case must be serious since two doctors had accompanied me. The specialist in Madras had said, “There is no problem in the throat, only the nerves have been strained and need rest. You may observe silence for 21 days or speak as little as possible.” For me it was like being prescribed my favourite diet as medicine. The desire to observe silence (that was born when I was still serving the Mother) awoke once again and was realised in different circumstances and time. Circumstances arranged by Mother herself! She always makes me do things by creating the necessary circumstances. I never have to worry at all. I live in her infinite grace, in joyous freedom. This mauna was her invaluable boon to me and thereafter I took it as a natural boon.

Thus I started to observe silence from 24th of November 1975. 21 days were over on 14th December. On 15th December I spoke. I came to know from others that my voice was perfectly normal. Then, as decided beforehand, I resumed my silence from the next day and it still continues. When some said that observing silence in this way was an austerity, I replied that an austerity is that which is strenuous or difficult, but remaining silent has become as natural to me as talking had been. My silence is not a penance nor a religious vow. I enjoy this silence.

Sometimes children ask me why I am not talking? Once a child, Hufreesh, asked me, “You have not spoken for so long. What is the proof that you have not lost your voice?” I explained to her in writing that as you children enjoy talking so I enjoy my silence. I enjoy it even more than when I was talking. It is an experience worth having. However if I do lose my voice, I will rejoice as did the famous Gujarati poet-saint Narsingha Mehta when he sang, “It is well, I am rid of the trouble; now I will happily concentrate on my Lord!”

I remember how eager I was for the direct guidance of Sri Aurobindo long before my arrival here. When someone with a similar aspiration comes to me and asks questions, spontaneously we have a written conversation. For many the problem is the difficulty in stopping talking and observing silence, but for me the difficulty is this written conversation. I await the time when even this written conversation will cease, but for that I have full faith in the Mother. When it is time, the All-gracious will herself arrange everything; just as she created the circumstances for my mauna, she will create them for this too in a natural way. I experience Her infinite Grace at every moment. Every moment is a blessed one for me.

Once, asked for a message on silence, Mother told a disciple: “Why do you always expect me to tell you a thing in a written message? The power of silence is fathomless. Those who are open can hear what I have to say without my speaking and some can also experience it. My unspoken communications have sometimes been noted down and shown to me and they were quite correct.”

Of course, there were also instances when the Mother commented, “This is not my message. It is your imagination and desires that are written here.”

123 Published in The Growth of a Flame, ed. Roshan, 1996.

124 P. Counouma (1908-91), a distinguished lawyer-disciple who was highly respected in the official circles in Pondicherry. The Mother appointed him a Trustee of the Ashram in September 1968.