Darshan

23

"Nothing Was Different;

Everything Was Different"

Jocelyn

Maggie met us at the bottom of the green carpeted staircase in the Meditation Hall at 2.30 p.m. with an enormous smile and a small gift for me. We went upstairs. At the second landing Maggie pointed a door on the right and said in a hushed voice that inside that door was Sri Aurobindo's room. We went through an open doorway to our left, through a long room which had bookcases covered with dust sheets all along the wall and big long table in the center which might have been a library table, out onto a little porch, and then up another, narrower green carpeted staircase and through an open doorway into a large balcony.

There was another lady standing on the balcony. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Her dark hair was in a chignon, and she had the posture and grace of a ballet dancer. Maggie introduced her as, "Poorna, Mother's granddaughter".

Just then the door to the room across from the door to the balcony opened. A man dressed in a lungi and a white string over his shoulder, with long white hair and twinkling eyes, looked out and caught Poorna's eyes. She followed him through the door and the door closed.

Maggie looked at me, and said, "People usually kneel in front of the Mother. You go into the room and kneel in front of Her. She is very old, and cannot look up at you if you are standing in front of Her."

I didn't believe in keeling in front of other people; may be in

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front of God; but I would never meet God, and wasn't certain that I would kneel even then. Still, I did not argue with Maggie; I just didn't say anything.

Maggie had a beatific smile on her face. She stood there, silent, as though in a rapturous trance. I walked over to the edge of the balcony and looked over the rail to the quiet Ashram courtyard, and across the courtyard to other rooms and terraces. My daughter, 10 months old, was quiet as a doll, riding on my hips, smiling like a happy cherub in the gentle tropical afternoon. A sweet breeze from the sea caressed us. I opened a little package Maggie had given me, a bar of Mysore Sandalwood Soap, just what I needed! I shoved it into my cloth shoulder bag.

The door across the hall from the door to the balcony opened again and Poorna came out, looking even more beautiful, and walked down the stairs. The little man beckoned to Maggie who then beckoned to me, and we went into Mother's room.

Binah was on one arm, and I had a bedraggled bouquet of flowers in the other hand, because somebody had told me that it was a tradition to bring flowers to Mother.

The floor was thickly carpeted, and the only thing that I could see in the room was the Mother sitting in Her chair. We walked into Her room, and without thinking I sunk to my knees in front of Her. She was sitting on Her chair peering gently at us. I sat Binah down on the carpet next to Her.

Between the Mother and Binah there was a beautiful straw basket. Binah lunged for the basket. Maggie said, "Stop her; it's a basket full of eggs."

I grabbed Binah and sat her down. Again the baby lunged for the basket, and I grabbed her and sat her down; but, Binah was clearly going to jump at the basket again. I was trying to hold on to Binah with one hand, and still had the bedraggled bouquet in the other, when the Mother looked at Binah, a powerful piercing look that made Binah sit back and sit up straight, and look back at the Mother. I did not know what passed between them, but the forceful look Mother had given Binah was so strong, I was happy that I was not the target of that penetrating gaze. Then Mother's face dissolved into the sweetest smile, and Binah was smiling at Her, and they looked

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as though they shared the most marvelous joke, perfect clear wordless communication. Mother was ninety years old. Some people had told me that they thought she was a senile figurehead. Seeing Her communicating with Binah, I thought, perhaps she is senile. Mother seemed to understand Binah better than I did, so She had to have the consciousness of a baby.

Then the Mother turned to me, and said, "Parlez-vous francais? [Do you speak French?]

Binah was sitting very quietly, smiling blissfully by my side, paying no attention at all to the basket of eggs. I had not expected Mother to speak to me. Everyone had told me that Mother usually did not speak to people when they went to receive Her blessing. I was so spaced out that I did not even feel able to speak English or American or anything. I just looked at the Mother.

Mother said, in perfect, unaccented English, "Do you speak French?"

I could not reply. My entire being seemed to be going through such a convulsion of bliss; but it was smooth as silk, nothing was different, everything was different, I was utterly too blessed out to reply.

Maggie replied for me, "Elle ne parle pas francais, Mere." [She does not speak French, Mother.]

I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I couldn't think, Mother looked at me and I was too happy to be laughing, but Mother seemed to be laughing at me. Because She kept asking me a string of questions in English, knowing very well that for the first time in my life, the cat had got my tongue. Maggie answered for me, things like, "Do you like Pondicherry?", "Have you visited Auroville?", "Where was Binah born?"

I felt very foolish, and Maggie very graciously answered Mother's questions for me, as though I was an idiot child.

Maggie told Mother I was going to Rameshwaram for Durga Puja.

Mother gave me a long look. She turned to the table next to Her chair and found a green fluffy flower with the most amazingly pungent and fragrant scent.

She handed me the flower and told me to give it to Panditji,

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(who lived in Rameshwaram) because it was special flower that signified supramental manifestation.

I slipped the flower into my cloth shoulder bag with the bar of soap and all the junk that I always carried, and forgot it.

Maggie finally asked me if I would like to give the poor wilted bouquet I had been holding to the Mother. I handed the flowers to Mother. From the table next to Her chair, the Mother picked up a beautiful fresh bouquet of flowers and handed them to me, with a card, and a single pink rose. She gave a little stuffed lamb with a little bell on it to Binah.

Binah took the lamb from the Mother's hand, and seemed enraptured with the simple toy. She reached out and took in her other little baby hand the flower that the Mother was holding out to her, and waved her hands stuffed with the little lamb and flower at Mother, then brought them down into her lap and looked at the wonderful gifts Mother had given her. She looked up at the Mother again, holding the little treasures tightly against her body.

Mother looked at me and said, "Bring Binah to me again on her birthday." She answered my unspoken question. We would stay in Pondicherry at least until Binah's birthday.

Then She gave us a huge smile, and I went down with my nose on the floor. Then I picked up Binah and the gifts from Mother and walked out. The white haired attendant was holding the door for me, and I started down the green staircase. I had gone only a few steps, and then I stopped. I did not want to go back down those stairs. I did not know what had happened in Mother's room but whatever it was seemed more wonderful than anything that had ever happened to me in my entire life. I had had many adventures, many inner and outer experiences, but whatever was in that room was better than champagne, better than sex, better than anything that I had experienced. It was perfect bliss to be in the Mother's room, and I did not want to go back down to the street, I wanted to go back into the Mother's room.

Maggie came down to the step behind me. She seemed to understand exactly why I had stopped there on the steps. She looked at me with a wonderful twinkle in her eye and assured me, "Don't worry, you can come back on Binah's birthday."

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By the time we got to the bottom of the green staircase I knew I had already forgotten how much more marvelous it felt to be simply near Her, and was content to think of staying in Mother's World at least until Binah's birthday in December.

My father, Bernie, had arrived in Pondicherry and he was there for Binah's birthday. Maggie was waiting for us at the gate and had a little gift for Binah. Bernie arrived a moment later.

Maggie led us upstairs to a beautiful little balcony off Sri Aurobindo's rooms, at the bottom of the staircase to the Mother's room, and asked us to wait. She told us she would call us when Mother was ready to see us, and disappeared up the stairs.

Bernie pulled out one of his huge cigars from Havana and proceeded to clip the end and light it.

I was so embarrassed. "You can't do that here."

"Why not? We're the only people here." We could see down into the Ashram courtyard at other people, but nobody was looking up toward us.

"It is forbidden to smoke in the Ashram," I said.

He took another long puff on the long brown pungent cylinder, smiled at me and said, "Relax."

I had put Binah on the mosaic marble floor with the flowers. She was sitting there in the sun surrounded with flowers, like a cherub Buddha.

Bernie took another puff on the cigar, and another great cloud of pungent smoke went into the Ashram atmosphere. I was trying to quiet my mind, and compose myself to be receptive to the Mother.

Maggie came back. "Mother is ready to see you now. She said the cigar smoke reminds Her of Sri Aurobindo."

Bernie put out his cigar. I scooped up Binah and the flowers.

Maggie said, shyly to Bernie, "People kneel in front of Mother to make it easy for Her to look at them."

Bernie replied. "I do not kneel in front of anyone."

Maggie did not say anything more and led them up the stairs and into the Mother's room.

Just as She had been when I was there in October, Mother was sitting in Her chair in the centre of the medium sized room, only the room was full of baskets of treats that Mother was

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preparing for Her disciples and guests for Christmas. I ignored Bernie, went and knelt in front of Her, and sat Binah down on the carpet.

Mother said to one of Her attendants, "Please bring a chair." Bernie said, "I don't need a chair," and knelt in front of Her. No one said anything for a long moment. Then Mother turned to me and asked, "Where are you staying?" Again I was speechless.

Maggie answered for me, "Shelter Guesthouse." Mother turned to Bernie and gave him a small green plastic basket full of little gifts, and then She gave me a small green plastic basket also full of gifts. She gave Binah a little handmade stuffed animal plus some sweets and flowers. She gave Bernie and me roses. She gave Binah a birthday card, and told me, "Bring Binah to me again, next year, on Her birthday."

We all shared a moment of silence. Mother smiled at us, then Maggie led us out of the room.

I did not know why, but being in the Presence of the Mother was one truly marvelous experience. People seemed to actually change in the seconds or minutes they spent in that Presence.

When we got to the Ashram gate Bernie stuffed all the things in his basket into the corner of the seat of his rickshaw, put the little green plastic basket upside down on his head, and started skipping down the street to the beach. Bernie weighed around 300 pounds, and was wearing Bermuda shorts, high socks, nice comfortable shoes, a clean white cotton sport shirt, grey hair, receding hairline, small goatee, and was not at all the kind of person you would expect to see skipping down the street with a green plastic basket on his head in South India in the middle of the afternoon.

A Light there is that leads, a Power that aids:...

Book III, 4

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