Talks by Vasudha

Talk on 18-Feb-1975

To the Students of the Centre of Education, at “Knowledge”

Vasudha: I am asked to talk to you, to say something about the Mother …. I think perhaps I cannot do it to your satisfaction. Myself, I have nothing to say — nothing special to say but if you have any questions to ask me I shall try to answer them to the best of my ability. First of all, I'll introduce myself to you — to those who do not know me well. Now it happens that tomorrow, 19 February, will be exactly forty-seven years since I came here. I came to Pondicherry on 19 February 1928. Now, I am rather curious to know what sort of questions are coming to me. Any questions?

Q: What were Mother's activities during the whole day?

Vasudha: You want to know about Mother's daily routine?

Well, when I came here, things were not as they are now. As you know, according to the times the routine went on changing. The year I came here, as far as I remember — you know it was forty-seven years ago — there used to be meditation three times a day: in the morning, in the afternoon and at night. And in those days there was neither a school nor a playground nor any of the other departments or activities, there was no Press, either — or anything else. So nothing was done about such matters. But Mother used to see a few people every day — a certain fixed number of people — by turns in the morning. In the evening she went out for a drive and at night at about 7 or 8 she gave soup to people — to the sadhaks. These were the activities people participated in when I first came here.

Q: How did you first come here?

Vasudha: Shall I tell you the story of how I came here? It is rather a long story. You must know one thing that in 1928 when I came here I was fourteen years old. In 1927 my elder brother, who was an engineer, wanted to come here permanently — he had already visited the Ashram twice, spent a few days and wanted to remain for good but Mother had said, 'I will call you when I need you.' As I was very young then, nobody talked to me about these things in the house, only my brother told me in November 1927, 'Write a letter to Mother saying that you want to go to the Ashram and stay there.' I did not know how to write in English at that time, so I said to him, 'If you dictate to me then I'll write.' So he dictated to me just one line:

Divine Mother,
At the Lotus Feet of the Divine Mother,
I want to stay in the Ashram.
Vasudha.

This is what I wrote and he sent my note along with his letter to Mother. Our correspondence with Mother was done through Champaklal, I believe. You know Champaklal? He is from the same place as I, the same town. We knew Champaklal from our childhood. So my brother wrote to Champaklal and the answer came…. Mother must have asked him perhaps about me. I was thirteen and the answer was, 'For little children there is no place here.' In those days, you must remember, it was not as it is now, the Ashram was a very serious place, only for yoga, for sadhana, and children of young age were not allowed, nor very old people; only young people, and that too those chosen and approved by Mother and Sri Aurobindo, were permitted. This was so not only for staying but even for Darshan. For Darshan, permission was not granted to anybody and everybody; only those who had been selected were granted permission. So this was the answer which we received in November 1927.

Now in February 1928, my brother was preparing to come to Pondicherry to stay permanently and I must tell you that he was the eldest person in our house, for my father had passed away when I had been six years old and Chandulal became my guardian. Our family consisted of just a few people: another brother, who was studying agriculture in Poona, my mother, my eldest brother's wife and myself. My brother had naturally to make arrangements for our coming over here permanently. As I was the youngest he was eager that I should also come and stay here. But, as I have already told you, the answer from Mother was that little children had no place here. So in February when he had decided to come he was to start from Bombay on the 17th because the 21st was the darshan day; he would reach here on the 19th just two days before Darshan. Now it so happened that on the 14th or 15th he received a letter from Pondicherry from Kashibhai, Kamalaben's father, who was also one of our friends. — He wrote to my brother because my brother must have written to him, 'I am coming to Pondicherry, starting on the 17th.' Kashibhai's reply was, 'Why are you saying "I am coming", as though you were coming alone. When Vasudha has permission, why don't you write "We are coming"? Are you not bringing her?' Now this was news to us because I had not asked for permission after the refusal in November 1927. The answer 'There is no place for little children here' was clear. And there was no question of my writing again so soon, in three months I couldn't have become big! As I said before, in those days permission was so difficult to get that my brother thought that if I had really got permission for darshan or for staying I should not miss the chance, and if he didn't take me it would be a very wrong thing. But he also felt that if I hadn't got permission and it was only a rumour from somewhere, it would be no good taking me, it would be a waste of money; besides, if I went there I might get neither Darshan nor permission to stay. So my brother was in a fix, he didn't want to miss the chance and he didn't want to take me unnecessarily. What to do then? There was not much time to write a letter and get an answer. So he sent a wire to Kashibhai, 'You said Vasudha has got permission, is it true?' and we waited for the answer to come. A wire came back to say 'Yes.'

So we started on the night of the 17th and reached Pondicherry on the 19th at about 3.30 p.m. Champaklal had come to receive us at the station on a cycle. (Laughter)

For the first time in my life I saw a rickshaw and a man pulling it; I was asked to sit in it with my brother but my heart was beating madly as I found it awkward for a man to pull another person; yet I couldn't say anything. My brother was still very curious to know how I had got permission. How did it happen that I who had not got permission three months earlier should have got it now? So he asked Champaklal to explain the mystery. Then Champaklal related the facts to us.

It so happened that because my brother was to come here permanently, my sister-in-law (his wife) wrote a letter to Mother — in Gujarati of course — also asking for permission to come. The Gujarati letter was naturally read by Champaklal to Mother. The letter was signed Subhadra. After reading the whole letter Champaklal said it had been written by Chandulal's sister, instead of saying Chandulal's wife. (Laughter) Mother said, 'She can come.' When I heard that, I felt very bad and I said to myself, 'I want to go back immediately. I have come here by a mistake.' But as I was not very free in speech with my brother — I was quite timid — I couldn't say anything to him. Besides, being my eldest brother, he was almost like a father to me. I was very much troubled but I went on hearing the talk which was going on …. Champaklal was on the cycle by the side of my brother and was talking to him. Champaklal continued, 'Then suddenly I remembered and I said, "Mother, Mother, I have made a mistake. It is not his sister who has written the letter but it is his wife who has asked Mother for permission. I made a mistake." Mother said, "Well, you have made a mistake, not I. (Laughter) I have given permission to his sister, not to his wife."' Hearing this I was relieved. And so that is how I came here …

Let me tell you a little more. I came here only for the Darshan as I was then studying in Bombay; I had taken leave for fifteen days from my school. I was not very fond of talking, even to my brother, and in our house I hardly talked, so in the train I sat thinking to myself that fifteen days were too much for me. I had the old ideas of yoga, people meditating with closed eyes and grim faces and nobody smiling, nobody laughing and talking, so what would I do there for fifteen days? I thought, 'We shall reach on the 19th; on the 20th we have to be there because the 21st is the Darshan, but the 22nd can be the last day — three days and I'll come back.' Well, I don't know how the fifteen days passed and then fifteen years and many more years but I am still here.

Q: Did you see Mother on the same day?

Vasudha: Yes, we saw Mother on the same day — both I and my brother. We were given the room in the Guest House near the gate where Tara Jauhar lives now in Dortoir Annexe. And it was arranged that both my brother and I would see Mother at seven or eight at night in the room which is now 'Prosperity' upstairs. Champaklal, I guess, according to my brother's instructions had arranged for rose garlands. To go to the 'Prosperity Room' we had to pass through Champaklal's room and climb a few steps to enter it. I remember I first saw Mother in the 'Prosperity' standing somewhere in the middle of the hall. I naturally did just what my brother did, I imitated him because I did not know what one should do and what one shouldn't. He gave one garland to Mother and did Pranam. I too gave one garland to her and did Pranam. The garlands had been kept for a long time in a dish and the petals of some roses had fallen in, so I collected them and put them all in Mother's hands and did Pranam again. She gave me a sweet smile. And I forgot all about my going away.

My only disadvantage was that I had not studied sufficiently in school and I had come here without much knowledge of English but I had a good knowledge of my own language. I had just started to learn English when I came here. And I continued studying it here merely by talking and hearing, so my language is not good enough for speaking in public.

Q: What was the human side of Mother, as you saw it?

Vasudha: May I ask you what you mean by the human side? Acting like any ordinary person? She talked to me, she patted me, she caressed me, she scolded me, as any mother would do — human or divine; it is very difficult to make a distinction between the two. In all our human relations with her there is something divine. That is a very difficult thing to say, but Sri Aurobindo has spoken about her divinity. He has spoken a lot about the divine powers of the Mother, hasn't he? The human side we all know….

Q: But what did you see?

Vasudha: I myself did not know exactly what was divine, but Sri Aurobindo had said that she was the Divine Mother and I took her for that and did whatever she asked me to do. I did as much as I could, as best I could, and I tried to serve her in the best way possible. That much only I can say. The human part of her, everybody knows — because everybody has come into contact with her, everybody has seen her and many have lived with her for quite a long time. Whatever I felt is for me only, it cannot be related to others because it becomes flat, it has no meaning for them, they will not understand it. I understand with my own heart, my own mind and my own feelings, with my limited understanding. And each one does that. Even if I tell you, I think it will be no use, it will be wasting time, we will just be jabbering.

Q: We have heard that Mother had a very fine sense of humour.

Vasudha: Sense of humour? I thought Sri Aurobindo had a very fine sense of humour, not Mother so much as far as I know. She was generally more serious.

Q: What were the other activities in those days?

Vasudha: Naturally, as things developed, activities went on changing. I don't know what happened before. But later there was a Press, Mother used to go often to the Press; we had other properties — the lake, she used to go there for drives in the evening. We had a playground and she started going to the playground and then we had the sports, and she used to supervise the sports. We had a school and she used to attend the school functions; she herself started playing tennis, you know. And as the Ashram developed, so the activities also developed, or rather because of her interest in them these departments and activities came about.

Q: How did you become her personal attendant?

Vasudha: It was a long process; going near her was a gradual thing. If I start from the beginning it will be a long story. Have you the patience to hear it from the beginning or shall I just tell you the end? Oh, you want it from the beginning? Then I must tell you how I started my work here. I had come here only for the Darshan of the 21st February, I had my first Darshan of Sri Aurobindo and after that in a day or two my brother had an interview with the Mother and she said to him, 'Your little sister is very nice, Sri Aurobindo also was pleased.' Then she added: 'If she likes to stay here I'll keep her' — and after a few minutes' pause again — 'if she doesn't want to marry.' In those days there was no question of marriage or of a married life in the Ashram. So when my brother came back from the interview he told me what Mother had said. I never thought of marriage at that time and naturally I could not talk to my brother — being too shy a person — whether I wanted to marry or not. I said to him, 'Yes, I want to stay here, I don't want to marry.' I had been very much enchanted when I had seen Mother's smile; and I forgot all about going home and about all the difficulties and serious aspects of this place.

I have told you that Mother used to give soup in the evening at 7 or 8. She would sit in the 'Prosperity' verandah upstairs facing the staircase. Each one of us would go to her with a cup and she would fill it with soup, sip it and give it back as Prasad. You know Mother was wearing a sari in those days, afterwards she started wearing gowns, salwar, khameez, etc. She used to cover her head with the sari right down to the forehead, and to keep the sari in place she would wear a band, sometimes a simple band and sometimes with some embroidery on it. Now it so happened that after a few days of my coming here I saw her wearing a velvet band with jari-work on it. It was made out of a jari topi — such as worn in North India — embroidered with gold and silver threads. The Ashramites called the band a 'crown'. Now, I had learnt that kind of work in my school and I said to Mother in Gujarati when I went to her for soup, 'I know this kind of work.' (Laughter) She could not understand what I was saying and so she called Champaklal who was in the next room, 'Champaklal, Champaklal', and he came running. Mother said, 'What is she saying?' (Laughter). I told him what I had said and he repeated it to her in English. Then Mother smiled and kept quiet.

The next day Datta called me. Do you know who Datta was? She was an Englishwoman who had come here with Mother from Japan. When I went to her, what do you think she gave me? Not the work I had said I could do, but an old piece of Bengali bamboo mat. You know the kind of fine mat which is very cool for people to lie on in summer. Datta gave me this piece and said that Mother wanted me to make some vase-mats — mats to put under vases — of different sizes and shapes. I had never done this kind of work before. I said, 'All right', as I never said 'No' for any work. But, to make vase-mats, one requires materials — a piece of cloth and some fancy threads for binding the edges. Datta did not give me anything — nor did I ask for anything, because I couldn't talk in English! I brought the old piece home; I had a pair of scissors, so I started cutting all sorts of geometrical shapes — round, square, triangular, hexagonal, octagonal — but I needed some cloth and thread to finish the edges, otherwise the straws would come off. When my brother returned from his work — he was in charge of construction and repairs of buildings — I said to him, 'This is the work I am given and I need some cloth and silk threads.'

I must mention here that in those days life in the Ashram was very strict and not at all as it is now. People did not keep any money with them. All that they had was given to Mother and she provided us with all our needs. Naturally I had no money of my own and whatever my brother had given away to Mother. Every month Mother used to give to the sadhaks some pocket-money — to different people according to their needs or according to what she thought they needed — three or five rupees or more. Nowadays this sum is paltry but in those days it was a big amount! Besides, things were very cheap in Pondicherry. I knew my brother used to get some pocket-money, so I asked him for the materials and he took me to the bazaar. I chose a piece of pink cloth and a few blue silk skeins. I stitched the piping and put some fancy stitches on it and, when the mats were ready, I took them to Datta. She seemed to be very pleased and Mother, though she did not say anything to me, must have been pleased also, for I kept on getting more and more needlework after that.

I started getting Mother's blouses for stitching and many other types of needlework. I had told her that I knew some embroidery. So gradually she went on giving me some work through Datta. Every day we used to see Mother at the morning meditation, in the evenings when she went out for her drive and at night during soup-time.

Slowly my work increased and I got more and more embroidery to do. I wonder if you know Lalita? Lalita was a Parsi girl here at that time and you know Parsi saris are embroidered in one corner only as the other end is tucked in when wearing the sari. She had offered all her beautiful saris to Mother and whenever Mother wore them — Mother used to wear the sari in the Bengali style where both the ends are visible — they used to look rather funny with one end embroidered and one plain. So I told Mother I could do this kind of alteration-work for her. (Laughter) Later she sent me one sari and this time with silk threads …. I traced the design from one corner and reproduced it exactly at the other end. Mother was very pleased with the result and she gave me many saris afterwards to complete the corners.

I think I forgot to recount one of her activities in those days. She used to visit people in their rooms in the afternoons — once a week or once in two weeks. One day she came to our house — where we now have our embroidery department — and she asked me, 'Will you do a sari for me?' I promptly said, 'Oh, yes', though embroidering a sari was a big work and I had never done it before. Mother imitated me, 'Oh, yes.' (Laughter) In the evening when I went to Datta she told me that Mother had already ordered silk threads from France and they were on their way by sea — in those days there were no planes …. Even before asking me, Mother had already ordered the silk threads! And that is how I started embroidering saris for the Mother. I began my first sari in August 1929 — a white lotus on a white background and finished it in December of the same year. At that time we had no big artists to do the designs for us — Amal Kiran was our only artist and he did some sort of simple lotus design which a child would be proud of now…. Mother wore the sari next year on her birthday. I used to embroider the whole day and did no other work.

You have asked me how I went upstairs to attend on Mother. I used to send my work through Datta but from time to time Mother would call me. Then she started seeing me once in two weeks and gradually I started doing the work of washing, mending and ironing her clothes. Day by day her personal work increased as people who were doing it were not there or had given up the work. I never asked for any work and never refused any but I always offered myself when I felt the need was there. Gradually she asked me to take the ironed clothes to her room every day and started giving me flowers. The personal work actually started when Datta passed away and Chinmayi, the Mohammedan girl from Hyderabad, was not willing to work. Mother gave me all the work that these two had been doing for her. That is how I went nearer to her till finally on 9 December 1958 when she was unwell — you will recall that that was the time when she stopped playing tennis and also doing other activities in the playground — I started attending to her person. Later again on 3 April 1962, I was called up at night when she was very ill and I stayed on with her day and night for years. Mother did not come down from that time till the end.

Q: (from a child): When did the small children come here?

Vasudha: You may remember that the Second World War broke out in 1939. Perhaps many of you were not born then …. When Japan sided with Hitler, many of the devotees who were staying outside Pondicherry in places like Calcutta or other places in Bengal were afraid of bombardment of their towns by the Japanese and felt they would be absolutely safe in the Ashram because of the presence of Mother and Sri Aurobindo. Mother gave refuge to families and that is how children came here. Children need to study and must also have other activities to keep them occupied, so that is how the school and playground started. Gradually Mother became very lenient; she was not as strict as before, many things were allowed which were once tabooed.

Q: Why do you say that Mother became lenient?

Vasudha: I'll give you one instance. You know that Mother used to cover her head fully and some of her ideas seemed to be very much like those of orthodox old ladies. Whenever I went to her with a half-covered head, she would pull the sari to cover my head fully. (Laughter) Now am I right in saying that Mother became very lenient afterwards? Also, in those days rules about food were very strict — no meat, no fish (fish was only for the cats), no smoking, no drinking, not even eggs were taken — only pure vegetarian food. Those rules perhaps even now exist, but I don't know how far they are respected ….

Q: Have you talked with Sri Aurobindo?

Vasudha: I saw Sri Aurobindo very closely at Darshan time but there was no talking. In those days we used to have Darshan three times a year — 21 February (Mother's Birthday), 15 August (Sri Aurobindo's Birthday), 24 November (Victory Day). We could go close to him, do Pranam at his feet and he would place his hand on our head and bless us. This mode of Darshan lasted till November 1938 when Sri Aurobindo had an accident and fractured his right thigh. Until he was well again, Mother alone continued to give Darshan on these occasions. People were increasing and Sri Aurobindo (after the accident) could not bear the strain of sitting too long, so the method of Darshan was changed. We walked past in front of Sri Aurobindo and Mother in a line. The gap between the two Darshans — February 21 and August 15 — was felt to be too big, so 24 April — which was Mother's day of final arrival in Pondicherry in 1920 — was made the fourth Darshan Day.

Q: Did Mother give Birthday Cards in those days?

Vasudha: There were no cards in the old days. Mother used to see people on their birthdays and give a short meditation and a few selected flowers — each flower had a special significance and according to our needs she gave the flowers. In 1958 when she stopped seeing people for sometime, she started sending the Birthday Cards.

Q: What did Mother eat?

Vasudha: Her food did not vary much, it was very simple — mostly fruits, vegetables and nuts. Towards the end all this was well mashed and made semi-liquid because she found it difficult to chew …. She was very fond of cheese….

Q: Who prepared her food?

Vasudha: The food was prepared in Mother's own kitchen. Also some of the sadhaks used to prepare different dishes at home and send them to her; Mother would taste a little from each and the rest would be sent back as Prasad.

Q: Did she wear a sari all the time?

Vasudha: In the old days I always saw her dressed in a sari when she received people, but when she retired to her own room I presume she must have changed into a gown. Later when she started playing tennis she took to salwar and khameez and saris became rare … gowns and coats at home and salwar-khameez outside.

Q: Did she have any favourite dress?

Vasudha: Yes, she liked certain beautiful embroidered saris and gowns; she preferred certain pastel shades — pale pink, pale blue, pale grey, etc. She liked maroon red but not bright red — all this was in the early days. Later on she used to wear all kinds of colours to please people — that is, whatever had been offered to her.

Q: How did you enjoy your stay here?

Vasudha: Enjoy? I would rather ask you to tell me what you mean by enjoyment. Is it like eating ice-cream? (Laughter) I can't say how I enjoyed my stay but I can say I have utilised my time to my utmost capacity, I made the best I could of the chances and occasions given to me. But enjoyment is not the word for it …

Q: What are your achievements?

Vasudha: Well, that's for you to see. If you see anything in me which is good, it is surely something I have achieved here. If you see anything in me which is not desirable, it means that there still remains a lot to be done. But I won't call it a failure because my sadhana still continues. I don't think my forty-seven years of dedicated service and conscious sadhana can be just a waste … all this is not for me to say — what I have achieved — it is for others to see, that is, if they can see anything at all. …

Q: How often did Mother play the organ?

Vasudha: I think when she first received the organ, she used to play it very often. She used to play music during interviews with some people. Also, Mother used to herald the new year by playing the organ music at midnight on the new year's eve. Later on she stopped doing this, but she used to play the organ off and on ….

Q: When did 'letter writing' start in the Ashram?

Vasudha: I think perhaps in the 'thirties. Mother and Sri Aurobindo started writing letters to the sadhaks to give them guidance in their spiritual life — sadhana. But I remember Mother asked me to write to her every day to tell her all that I did — where I went, whom I saw, how I spent my time. I think she wanted to keep a check on me to see what I was doing. Also, I had too many difficulties, so she asked me to write everything to her — all that I thought and felt and did. All of you may have read my letters in the Bulletin. That is how it started, but it lasted for a few years, I think it stopped in 1938 when Sri Aurobindo had his accident. I stopped corresponding much before that because I used to see Mother daily and there was no need for letter-writing.

Q: Did you write to Sri Aurobindo also?

Vasudha: Though we were not many, still there were quite a good number who wrote letters so there were two groups — Sri Aurobindo would answer to some and Mother to others and my letters were answered by Mother — though two or three times Sri Aurobindo also wrote to me.

Q: Was there a difference in tone in their answers?

Vasudha: A great difference. Surely you have read both Mother's and Sri Aurobindo's letters. You must know the difference yourself. (Laughter)

Q: How did you learn French?

Vasudha: Mother asked me to learn French, and she started teaching me. The lessons were given in a very nice way. I used to go to her with paper and pencil once a week. She would ask me a question in French which She would write down on the paper along with the answer; later I would learn them by heart, and that is how my French lessons started. Once on the lesson paper she did a sketch of me. I had put my chin on her lap and was looking up at her when she said, 'Now don't move', and in two minutes she did a small sketch and wrote under it, in French, 'C'est votre portrait quand vous riez, la tête sur mes genoux.' (Laughter) That is how she taught me French. Later she asked Suvrata — you must have heard of Madame Gaebelé — to take a class of a few sadhaks who wanted to learn French and I was one of them. Also, when any Frenchman came and took classes I joined them.

Q: Were there any picnics?

Vasudha: There were no picnics because there were no children! But Mother used to go far out for drives and sometimes she used to take some of us also in one or two cars following her. We would drive far out, then select a pleasant spot to spread a cloth and sit … once we had palm-fruits …. A local man climbed up a palm-tree and brought down some fruits, clove them with big knife and brought out the kernels which Pavitra peeled and gave to each one of us. That was our picnic …

Q: How did Mother look when you first saw her?

Vasudha: That is very difficult to say but I had the impression that she looked to me like any foreign lady. She looked very young — though she was fifty years old when I saw her — she had a lovely face and I was charmed by her beautiful nose. She was tall and slim and had a beautiful figure. She looked startlingly beautiful.

Q: Was Sri Aurobindo very dark when you first saw him?

Vasudha: I don't remember to have seen him very dark. They say he was quite dark before but I did not find him so.

At the last Darshan I had of him in December 1950, I saw that his body was of a bright golden colour — this I had never seen before …. His body seemed to me luminous.

Q: Were there film shows in the Ashram?

Vasudha: Not in the Ashram but in those days some of us saw a French film in Salle Jeanne d'Arc — I think Suvrata had taken some of her French-class students there.

When did film-shows start in the playground? Dada will be able to tell you better…. The playground is not my domain. (Laughter)

Q: Did Sri Aurobindo ever see a film?

Vasudha: No, Sri Aurobindo never saw a film here. You must know that even when I came here there were no talkies — we had only silent pictures. When Sri Aurobindo came in 1910 there were surely no films of any kind!

Q: Did Sri Aurobindo see any slides in his room?

Vasudha: No, never.

Q: What is your most memorable experience with the Mother?

Vasudha: Most memorable? …. What is most memorable?…. Something you remember most and never forget in your life, is most memorable, isn't it? I'll have to think it over ….

Now I think it is time to stop and if I don't get up, nobody else will …

I hope I have not bored you ….

Talk on 4-April-1975

Given at 10.40 a.m. in the Hall of Harmony to the Students of the Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education

I have been asked to tell you something about the Darshans. I can tell you how the Darshans used to be from the 21st February 1928 only, because that was the first Darshan I had of Sri Aurobindo.

There were three Darshans a year. We called them Darshans because we used to see Mother and Sri Aurobindo together. We saw them on 21st February, 15th August and 24th November. We saw Sri Aurobindo only thrice a year but from very close. We went near him, did Pranam to him and he blessed us with his hand on our head.

My first Darshan was in the Meditation Hall upstairs.

There is a big sofa there even now — Mother and Sri Aurobindo used to sit on it and give us Darshan. At that time we were very few in the Ashram, and very few visitors were permitted for Darshan. The day previous to the Darshan, or two days in advance, the list of the names of all those who would be going for it was made and put up in the hall downstairs for everyone to read. One copy of it used to be with Sri Aurobindo at Darshan time. According to the order in which the names were written in the list, we had to go, and when Sri Aurobindo saw a new person coming he took up the list to see who that person was. I have still with me the list of the names of the people who went for Darshan on 21st February 1928. I should have brought it to show it to you.

I was to go for Darshan with my brother. We took flowers — we could offer flowers. From outside the Hall, from the staircase steps we could see what the previous person was doing but we would enter the Hall only individually. Each one was allowed some time to make his offering and do Pranam to both Mother and Sri Aurobindo. Generally the Darshan would start at about 6 or 6.30 in the morning. It did not last very long as there were not many people, but still it lasted two or three hours as people were allowed some time. Since we used to see Sri Aurobindo only thrice a year, we were not hurried on.

On the day of my first Darshan there were about 65 people — Sadhaks plus visitors. In the afternoon Mother would distribute among the Sadhaks the garlands received at Darshan time. She gave each one of us a garland. And then at night we used to get soup from her, as on all other days. But on Darshan days we used to decorate with flowers a canopy over her seat.

That very year or the next the Darshan room was changed. The Darshan was held in the small room at the further end of the upstairs Meditation Hall. There is still the sofa there with Mother's and Sri Aurobindo's Darshan photo on it. You must have seen it.

These Darshans thrice a year went on till November 1938, when Sri Aurobindo had an accident. We did not have Sri Aurobindo's Darshan on the 24th November that year. Until Sri Aurobindo recovered we had only Mother's Darshan.

After he had recovered, the Darshan was no more as before. We did not go near Sri Aurobindo as we had done formerly. The number of people also had increased and as Sri Aurobindo was unable to sit for a very long time the Darshan was made simpler; we had to pass before him and Mother in a line outside the small room, without going inside individually to them.

As we had Sri Aurobindo's Darshan only three times a year and since we had missed two Darshans (November 24, 1938 and February 21, 1939) on account of the accident, the need to see Sri Aurobindo was felt very acutely and, August being still far away, another date in the calendar had to be found before that month. Thus 24th April, the date of Mother's final arrival here (1920), was decided upon.

After that, there wasn't much change, except that, much later, in April 1949 and 1950, after the groups got their coloured uniforms, in addition to the regular Darshan all the groups had the privilege of marching past Mother and Sri Aurobindo.

Is there anything more I can tell you? Many of you may not have ever seen Sri Aurobindo. In those days generally we used to see Mother once in the morning — this was 'Pranam' time; then, in the evening when she went out for a drive, we stood on the road and saw her go; and then again at night when she gave us soup. These three times all those who wanted to see her could do so.

Sometimes Mother called people for a meditation or for an interview with her individually in the morning. Some she called once a month, some twice a month, some once a week, and some even more often.

In the evening before going for her drive she would sometimes go to some Sadhaks' rooms on a visit. These were her activities mostly.

There was another thing (which of course I have not seen myself though I was here). In 1928 the Dining Room was where we have now Prithvisingh's room and Ravindra's cold-storage. The Dining Room was for men only. Lunch would be served and the plates kept ready; Mother herself would take each plate and give it to each sadhak. One plate was served for Mother also, from which she would taste a little and give the whole plate to a sadhak as prasad by turns. The women were few at that time but, as Mother did not like men and women sitting together for food, the food was sent to their rooms. Later on she arranged for a dining room for women in the Ashram compound — the room which is the cartonnerie at present.

Q: When did the Balcony Darshan begin?

It seems it started sometime in 1938 after Sri Aurobindo had the accident and we could not see Mother for Pranam in the morning. She was busy then. I don't remember details because I never noted down these things. Also, perhaps the Sadhaks wanted to see her before starting their daily work. And so she started the Balcony Darshan.

Q: Did she give flowers every time?

At Darshan time she did not give them. When she called us for an interview or meditation or on a birthday she used to give flowers. And also at Pranam time.

Q: Say something about the Terrace Darshan.

Mother's new room upstairs was not there then. The second floor was a flat terrace. She used to go to that terrace, specially after a hair-wash to dry her hair in the sun. She used to go with a parasol — I remember I had embroidered parasols for Mother. To match her sari I had embroidered one with suns on white satin. What is usually known as Terrace Darshan used to be on the top of Dyuman's room. She used to walk there accompanied by Chinmayi. There was a time somewhere in 1944-5 when Mother used to come and stand on the terrace in the evening and give a short meditation. Down below, in the courtyard, the sadhaks would occupy each a square of the concrete floor and sit and meditate.

Mahendra: Tell us the story of the "supramental fish".

Oh! Supramental fish? (laughing) You all know that I used to do embroidery for Mother. I embroidered many sarees for her. The design on one of the sarees I had done was fishes in the sea. The fishes were in gold and silver. After I had finished the saree, some thread was left, so I thought, 'Why not make a fish for Sri Aurobindo? He must have eaten fish long ago. Now he doesn't eat it any more. So I can make one in gold, fill it up with chocolates and give it to him to eat.' So I embroidered the two sides of a fish, stitched it up and made it into a fish-shape bag with the mouth open, through which I filled the body with gold-coin chocolates which we used to get in those days. I gave the fish to Mother, saying that it was for Sri Aurobindo. She took it to him. The next day I received a letter from Sri Aurobindo:

Vasudha,
It is a supramental fish surely.
Every detail so perfectly filled in.
Sri Aurobindo

I was naturally thrilled. I had not expected such a response from him.

But after that, one day I found those two sides of the fish on a 'crown' of the Mother! The bag had been taken from Sri Aurobindo, the two pieces opened up and stitched on a band which she wore round the forehead to keep the saree in place there. My first feeling on seeing it was not too happy, though it was on her crown! I thought I had made it for Sri Aurobindo; then why did she take it away? (laughter)

Q: Please recount some reminiscences of your long association with Mother.

There are so many incidents. If you remind me of any like the one recounted just now, I can relate it to you. Otherwise I shall have to prepare beforehand. On the spot it is not possible to say much, and everything cannot be told.

Q: How did she teach you not to waste things?

Yes, we were taught economy by Mother — not to waste things at all. You must have seen small notes written by Sri Aurobindo, on bits of paper, or in the margin or on any ordinary paper which we would have simply thrown away. You may have seen the envelopes they give at Prosperity — often they are used ones turned inside out, to be used again. Even old clothes, Mother said, should not be thrown away, but must be used as dusters, etc. If the clothes are a little torn, they should be mended. Mother's clothes were always mended before washing; that was one of our daily works. Before washing her clothes we had to go through each one to see if it needed any mending.

You know we used to get tins which were covered entirely with paper labels. There were some people who went too far in their economy and they would remove those labels very carefully in order to write on the other side which was blank. I do not know if it was really economical, for it helped the tins rust faster.

Q: Will you tell us how you came here?

I have already spoken of that at 'Knowledge' in February. It will be a repetition.

Q: It was not told to the same children.

Yes, but for me it will be a repetition. I could very well make you hear the tape-recording. Besides, the talk will be published in Mother India soon — you can read it or I can read it out to you one day. To say it all over again is not interesting. I must get into that spirit — without the spirit it will sound very flat.

Urmila: Will you tell us about your 'Bourse'?

Bourse? (laughing) Caught me! O.K. So I shall tell you the story. We had no school then. My brother used to teach me mathematics. He was an engineer. He taught me mathematics in French. You know that in the French books, under some of the problems, 'Bourse' is written, which means scholarship. So these were the problems given to students in France for scholarship exams. There were many such problems at the end of the book. Out of them my brother gave me about seven or eight to do and told me that if I did them all correctly he would give me a 'Bourse.' I was a hard-working student, and I did them all correctly. Now he was in a fix — what to give me as a 'Bourse'? He had no money, and the little he had — a few annas — was the money left over after paying the workers; he could not use it as he liked. So he went and put his problem before Mother. Mother was pleased. He asked her if he could give to me as 'Bourse' the few pice that remained after paying the workers. Mother granted his request and she gave him a small purse to put the coins in. He put a few small coins in it and gave it to me as 'Bourse.'

Then I thought this was my first earning, so I must offer it to Mother. The bag had been given by the Mother. I did not want to return it to her. I was quite young and had my childish ideas. So I took a piece of cardboard, cut it in the shape of a hexagon or octagon (I don't remember) and set the coins in the centre and fixed them with a few stitches. And I wrote around them that they were my first earning and that I was offering it to her.

This was long long ago, in 1939. I had even forgotten about it. Years after Sri Aurobindo had left his body, one day Mother brought out this cardboard piece with the money stitched on it from her safe where she kept some of her jewels, money and other valuables. She showed it to me and said, 'Do you see? I keep it in my safe, it is never empty, I am never in want of money. It serves me as a talisman.' A talisman, you know, is something that has been charged with a Mantra by someone who has the power and it carries in it a power and protection.

Many years after that, in April 1962, she shifted to the second floor and did not come down any more. There too she had a little safe in the wall, and one day again she brought out the 'talisman' and said, 'See, it is still here with me.'

This is the story of my 'Bourse'.

Sumedha: Now, the story of the roses.

Roses? My dream?

It was a very short dream. I was then very small. I had just had my first Darshan of Sri Aurobindo. A few days later, I had a dream:

I was standing in the Guest House in the upstairs verandah, leaning against a window. I was standing there with four country roses (meaning 'surrender') on a single stalk in my hand. The door of the room in front of me opened and I saw Sri Aurobindo standing in the doorway. He called me just by a gesture, without any word. I thought within me that he wanted to smell the roses, and that after smelling them he would give them back to me. So I went near him and stretched out my hand. He just took the whole bunch from my hand and disappeared inside the room! (laughter) The dream ended there.

But when I woke up I felt so delightfully happy, I felt I had really seen Sri Aurobindo! The feeling was even more intense and real than the one I had had on first seeing him physically on the Darshan day. My feeling after the dream was quite different. Constantly I kept feeling 'I have seen Sri Aurobindo, I have seen Sri Aurobindo ….' This went on within me like a Mantra. It lasted for full three days. The dream was a very short one, but its effects have been felt throughout my life. Would you like to hear more about it? All right — I'll continue.

I had forgotten this dream completely, when suddenly after twenty-five years or so, one day I saw with Mother a similar bunch of roses. I was strangely reminded of my dream and I told Mother about the old dream. After hearing of it she said, 'Oh, so Sri Aurobindo took all of them away? Now I will give you one out of them', and saying this she plucked one out of the bunch and gave it to me. I could not refuse, so I took it in my hand, yet I told her, 'No, no, it was not for giving back that he took them from me!' That very afternoon when I was waiting for Mother at the tennis court and was pondering over it, the meaning of the dream became clear to me. I saw and felt that everything I did or everything that I could do in the sadhana was actually done by my Master, Sri Aurobindo. The four roses which mean the surrender of the whole being (mental, vital, physical and psychic) is not so easy to make by one's own effort. By my own effort I could never do it. So Sri Aurobindo himself, in his deep compassion, asked them of me, and took them. I have been really fortunate and am so grateful to him that he did it for me! It shows how much he loves us and does for each one of us everything if we are sincere and willing to do the sadhana. In everything that happens in my life — in all that has happened so far — I see nothing but his grace, his great compassion.