Lost in His shoes

Today was DMC day. Brother Jyotishvar from America had an interesting experience:

“I arrived in Iceland 3 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 Baba’s quarters.

The Dadas asked for a volunteer to guard Baba’s house during the DMC (which meant missing the DMC). No one was interested.

Dada Dharmavedananda. the security in-charge for Europe, asked me to do it. I adamantly refused. I had been working on Baba’s 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 Baba’s room like a caged tiger. Finally the pain became intolerable, and I burst into Baba’s room.

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 white— 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 Baba’s pillow; it had a powerful perfume-like smell. Then I noticed one item in the room which was not white or orange: Baba’s 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, “How did Baba leave the house with no shoes on?”

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 Baba’s 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: “I think everyone enjoyed the program?”

“So he did give the DMC!” I thought. “I must have been lost a long time in His shoes.”

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: “You thought you could do something without Baba knowing?”

The game called money

Late yesterday afternoon Baba asked us, “By what route are we traveling to Frankfurt tomorrow?”

Dada Karunananda replied, “We will fly via London, Baba.”

“What? Nonsense! Change the flight! The United Kingdom refused my visa application, so I shall not visit there.”

“But. Baba,” Karunanandaji pleaded, “we will only pass in transit.”

“It doesn’t matter! I won’t 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 country’s government formally invites me.’’ 63

When we left the room, several of us held a quick meeting.

“The tickets will have to be rebooked via Copenhagen,” Karunanandaji said. “By 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.”

There were plenty of intelligent ideas between us:

“Anybody know any millionaires?”

“We could ask the government.”

“Are the banks still open for negotiating a loan?”

“We could ask Baba what to do.”

“Look,” one of us said, “Baba never tolerates any talk of money-problems. Besides, if He creates a problem, He also has a solution waiting to be found.”

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.

63 Even at this time some countries were still confused by the Indian government’s 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, “It’s quite true that our government’s 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.” The British government eventually became so positive that our London kindergarten received appreciation letters from government-affiliated bodies and received government grants.

“It sounds like you have a big financial problem, Dadaji.”

“Well, yes, but you shouldn’t be worried about it. I’m sure we’ll solve it somehow.” I didn’t want this new Margi to be bothered by our problem. But he was persistent.

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“It’s okay. You needn’t be concerned.”

“Just tell me, Dada.”

“Ah, about $5000.”

“Well… that’s a coincidence. I just sold my house for $15,000. I made the budget for spending $ 10,000, and was wondering what I would do with the other $5,000. Now I know.”

I objected, but he insisted.

As we were leaving this morning, Alexander flashed a big smile and said, “I feel like Baba created this problem just so I wouldn’t use my extra money in selfish pleasures.”