Master of Hocus Pocus

Invisible devotees

New Delhi. I am here to extend my Indian visa, and then I’ll go back to Patna. Ravindra and Sadhana, a devoted Margi couple, have invited me to stay in their house during my stay in Delhi. Ravindra is the head care-taker of the Delhi Zoo, so their house is in a quiet area near the Zoo.

Today I was alone in the house. While meditating in the small room which they keep solely for that purpose, I heard people singing kiirtan: Baba nam kevalam.

“What is this?” I thought. “Some other Margis have come?”

I broke my meditation, stood up, and walked out of the room in the direction of the kiirtan. But after taking a few steps outside the room I couldn’t hear the kiirtan anymore. I went outside the house. Only birds were singing.

“Strange,” I thought, and went back to resume my meditation. When I sat down, immediately my mind became concentrated.

A few minutes later I again heard people singing kiirtan.

“Maybe some Margis are playing a trick on me,” I thought. “But this time I’ll catch them!” I jumped up and ran toward the singing. But once more, the voices disappeared without a trace. Everything was perfectly peaceful.

Scratching my head, I went back to meditate. After a short while, the kiirtan appeared again.

“It must be inside my head,” I thought. Partially ignoring the kiirtan, and partially enjoying it, I went on with my meditation. The kiirtan also continued. Perhaps twenty or thirty minutes later I noticed it was no longer there.

A couple hours later, Ravindra and Sadhana came home.

“Were you comfortable in our house when we weren’t here?” asked Sadhana.

“Yes,” I said. “But I had a peculiar experience in your meditation room. I heard people singing kiirtan again and again, but nobody was there.”

The two of them immediately started laughing.

“It’s a common experience in that room,” Ravindra said. “When our meditation is deep, we often hear that kiirtan. A few other Margis have heard it too.”

“Well then, at least it’s nothing to worry about,” I said. “Do you know the explanation?”

“Invisible devotees, I suppose,” said Sadhana.

Though we all laughed, I felt her idea was not far from the truth.

Baba exposes my secret

Patna. A Filipino Dada who was held in the same jail as Baba for the last nine months was released today.

He was standing in the comer of a large courtyard surrounded by several other workers and Margis. When he saw me approaching, he said, “You must be Dharmapala.”

I was surprised because we had never met.

“How do you know me?” I asked.

“Oh, Baba spoke of you many times.”

I became even more surprised.

“What did He say?”

“He said that it was good to see some nice American boys like you becoming acharya.”

“And did He say anything negative about me?”

“Well…once when He was talking about you, He said, ‘Unfortunately, that boy never does his asanas 24 in the evening time.’”

I was shocked. Though I accept that Baba is omniscient, I never expected He would notice and expose such mundane things about me even when I was not present. And I am sure absolutely no one could have noticed I was not doing my asanas because I always shift from room to room during the evening since coming to Patna.

I’ll never miss my asanas again, except when it is impossible to do them.

2i Asanas are physical yoga postures which purify the body, and to some extent also the mind, by harmonizing the glands, hormonal secretions, blood circulation and nerves.

Apparent injustice

Over the last several days my trainer has been complaining to Praveda and me that his greatness is misunderstood by others, and that many Dadas are jealous of his spiritual accomplishments. It’s true that his behavior is apparently eccentric: suddenly inducing high states of meditation in some of the foreigners who sit near him, frequently secluding himself alone for many hours in a locked room, eating vast amounts of food, and being so moody that he changes his plans every day. He often denies us classes due to “mistakes” which we never committed. Nevertheless I believe he is highly elevated, and that each of his strange actions have some underlying benevolent hidden purpose.

The attack by the other Dadas has now gone to an extreme. They have long been requesting him to move away from the foreigners’ quarters, and stay in the main central office, but he has always refused. Today two workers picked up all his belongings, and transferred them to a room in the central office. He was adamant that he would not shift, and remained in his room which was empty of everything except the blanket on which he sat.

A few hours later they also physically carried him away.

I’m astonished at this injustice!

A decisive meeting

We have been regularly visiting our trainer in his new room. He continuously talks about the wrongs being done to him, how immature the other workers are, and how much they have yet to grow in their spiritual insight. Of course, I agree with him.

Tonight I heard that a small committee was discussing what punishment he should be given. I could not believe it and became angry when others told me it was suspected he has indulged in conduct which was wrong for an acharya. I felt it my duty to vouch for his innocence. The committee meeting was on the top floor of the four-story building. I ran up, anxious to arrive before it was too late. Panting, and after barely knocking, I opened the door. Another shock. Instead of three or four persons sitting there, about 50 or 60 orange-clothed Dadas turned their faces toward me. They were also surprised at my intrusion.

“Excuse me…ah, you’re having a meeting…”

“Yes, of course it’s a meeting,” the gray-haired Dada standing in front said, gently smiling. “What do you like to say?”

“Ah…well…pardon me but I heard you were discussing the matter of my trainer.”

Laughter came from all sides of the room. I was frustrated and felt even more angry. How dare they take my trainer’s case as a joke?

“Go ahead,” the elderly Dada said, also chuckling, “and speak your mind.”

Determined to make my point. I blurted out, “I have been with him hours every day, and I am sure that these charges are all wrong. His character is pure and blemishless, and he couldn’t make such a mistake.”

The Dadas exploded with laughter. Some even rolled on the ground, laughing so hard. I was utterly confused by their response.

“Thank you very much,” said the grinning elderly Dada. “We will keep your opinion in mind.” The laughter increased, and I walked out of the room, more frustrated than ever.

An hour later all the workers came downstairs. One of them with whom I am close, came to me and said. “Brother, we were not talking about your trainer. That was a general finance meeting.”