Contact with The Mother

MASTERY OVER MISHAP

The car was a Hindustan Landmaster, No. P.1921. (1921 is not the year of its manufacture but the registration number.) It was always my trusted car in Delhi and therefore I sent it to Pondicherry for our use over there. And it was in this Landmaster that on the morning of 23rd October, 1959, I left for Madras from where I was to take the plane for my return to Delhi.

The car had a full load, for, besides the driver and a colleague of mine, there were my wife, youngest daughter, youngest son, and the grown-up son who usually drives me down to Madras. Thus there were seven persons in all in the car, all of whom, except my colleague and myself, were travelling primarily to leave me at Madras and then return to their permanent abode—Pondicherry.

Our programme was approved by the Mother and it was after Her gracious blessings that we left Pondicherry in the early morning.

Narendra, my grown-up son, was behind the steering, driving with skill and confidence. All along the journey, the atmosphere in the car was full of hilarity. It was raining quite heavily when we reached the outskirts of Madras. The rain-sodden fields on the two sides of the road presented a charming and fast-shifting scenery. The wipers on the screen were wiping off the torrents of rain-water with a rhythm.

And then suddenly the car skidded. It began to swerve, now going this way and the next second the other way. We all did feel that the car was swerving, but none took any particular notice of it. Narendra was quite a picture of confidence holding the steering wheel firmly in both hands. The swerving, however, continued for about two furlongs. And lo! the car suddenly overturned throwing all of us over one another. It had more or less turned turtle near the brink of the road just beyond which was a khud, about 5 to 6 feet deep, full of water. The front screen together with the steel frame flew off and fell nearly 20 feet away on the road without, however, the glass being broken. The dicky of the car broke down and the entire luggage, including suitcases, beddings and tiffin carrier etc. went flying away and lay scattered on the road. The luggage carrier also went off from the top of the car and fell at some distance. The engine caught fire while the car with its two wheels raised in air lay on the road on its left side so that the left-hand side-doors were completely blocked by the ground.

But the overturning of the car was so slow and gentle that we all felt as if we had just turned on our sides in bed. One by one we came out of the car through the new exit made possible by the flying away of the front screen while the engine was still on fire. As we crept out, almost all of us smiled spontaneously and gratefully because to our pleasantest surprise none of us had received even a scratch or a bruise. Looking at the smashed overturned car and then looking at ourselves, we could not help laughing.

Did we laugh at the utter failure and defeat of the forces which had dared attack and harm the children of the Mother who carried with them Her gracious blessings?

I tried vainly to read or detect signs of shock in the visage of Dayawati, my wife, who is generally very nervous and afraid while travelling in the car, in the face of Purnima, still in her teens, and in the face of the little kid, Victor. But no, none of them, and for that matter, none of the rest of the party, including Narendra who sat behind the steering during the fateful journey, betrayed even the slightest sign of fear or alarm or nervousness. The way all were calm added to the magnificence of the miracle.

The scene of this frightful accident had, in the meantime, attracted some passers-by with whose help we brought the car back to its normal position. But no sooner were all the four wheels back on the ground than the car suddenly moved backward on the slope and fell into the khud. None of us was standing behind.

Leaving Narendra and the driver to look after the car, the rest of us left for Madras, which was hardly 16 miles ahead, in a public transport. A few hours later came another Ashram car by which Sri Keshavdev Poddar and Sri Himmatsingka and others were travelling to Madras. This car picked us up in Madras and brought us back to Pondicherry—to the feet of the Mother.

Throughout our journey to Madras and then to Pondicherry, after the accident, we kept on laughing. Yes, laughing at the stupidity and futility of the Asuric forces which were perhaps unaware that the Mother had sent, I might say, a number of gods with us even though our journey was so brief and simple. Each god had a specific duty to perform in this wonderful demonstration of the Mother’s powers.

Thus the first god was there to control and halt all traffic on the road for the time during which our car was swerving, thus eliminating the horrible possibility of our car colliding against any other passing vehicle. Otherwise how was it that for about a minute or two while our car was dangerously swerving, and until it ultimately overturned, not a single vehicle or even a pedestrian passed that way—on such a busy highway?

The second god saw to it that the process of overturning was so slow and gentle as not to cause any of us even a violent jerk. In addition, this god was also there to see that the overturning car did not go farther than the road-edge.

God Number Three was in charge of providing the emergency exit and he did a splendid job of it by making the opening from the front through which everyone of us came out without the least inconvenience.

And yet another god kept the fire under control—until we had got out of the car. He did not allow the engine fire to flare up or burst out.

And then there was the fifth god who brought another Ashram car which drove us back to the blessed abode of The Mother.

The next day, the Mother sent for Narendra and the automobile engineer of the Ashram, Abhaya Singh, and, with a handbook on the Hindustan Land-master in her hand, held a small conference wanting to know the reasons of the accident. I guess that the Mother meant to investigate what Asuric power was the mischief-maker behind the material circumstances.

Before my departure from Pondicherry, the Mother, while showering Her blessings, had given me a flower as a token of them. I now looked at it intently, and discovered that it was the flower of Grace.

Surendra Nath Jauhar