here - Love Street Breezes

Issue number 6
Love Street Breezes
Farewell to Bhauji
Vir Singh Kalchuri
January 13, 1927 - October 23, 2013
From The Editor
Jai Baba Dear Readers,
With Issue number six we are
commemorating the End of an Era, a
time that has been on our minds for
the past few years. Bhau Kalchuri, our
dear Bauji, the last of the Beloved’s
Mandali, has finally been released
from this vale of tears, October 23
2013. After years of suffering many
severe physical ailments, Baba has
finally called His Night Watchman
home, to rest once more in His arms.
When we received the news from
the Trust in India, we asked for stories of
your times with Bhau, your memories of
this dear man who had served his Beloved
so faithfully and well since 1953. Inside the
pages of this magazine are those stories.
If you didn’t get your remembrance in to
us in time, feel free to email it to me to
appear in Issue number seven.
Bhauji used to love giving his friends
special nicknames. Many of them were
his various “Mummies;" not the Egyptian
kind, but the British and Indian version of
Mommy.
One Sunday, over 15 years ago, when
traditionally the pilgrims would entertain
the Mandali by giving a performance for
them in Mandali Hall, Meherazad, I did
a very energetic dance to the pulsating
rhythms of Gate Chalo. For this solo
performance I called upon my training in
Flamenco & Belly dancing. Bhau promptly
gave me the sobriquet of “Dancing
Sister,” and I have been lovingly called
that—by him—since then.
The Celebration of Bhauji’s Birthday
Four days after he passed, Stella Manuel, the principal of Meher English School
as well as “mother” to 103 children at the
Pumpkin House Orphanage for Children,
told Mehernath and Sheela—Bhau’s children—that she would like to create and
host a loving tribute to their father who
had long been the hardworking Chairman
of the AMBPPCT, known simply as The
Trust. They happily acquiesced and were
absolutely astounded, as were all present, by what Stella, her daughter Fiona &
son-in-law Vianny created. Their “Garden”
is on our front cover, with many more
photos inside.
Why have you had to wait so long?
We, the Love Street Breezes crew, would
have much preferred that this issue have
come to you in a much more timely fashion, but alas, our timing is not His timing.
We are severly constrained by only having
two people who can do the layout of the
magazine—and when these two ladies
are either snowed under by their regular
jobs, or are in the hospital, the Breezes
has to take a back seat. We hope you understand. However, if any of our readers
are familiar with InDesign—the software
we use to create the magazine, and would
like to bring happiness to themselves
and the thousands of readers around the
world by stepping up and volunteering to
assist with the layout, we would love to
hear from you!
I am writing this sitting in the beauty
that is the MPR (Meher Pilgrim Retreat),
in Meherabad on the 30th of January.
There is a palpable sense of excitement
and anticipation in the air with workers
bustling around setting things up for the
arrival of tens of thousands of His lovers,
who are pouring in by the hour. Amartithi
will be covered in full in Issue number
seven. If you were here and I have not
already asked you to write up your experiences, and you would like to, please send
them to me as soon as you can.
The Scent of the Samadhi is a fragrance that lingers in your memory. When
you smell that certain delicate smell, the
memories come flooding back. Although
many of the garlands His lovers place on
His tomb are a combination of roses and
other flowers, the strongest scent of all
is from a small white flower (from a bulb)
called a Tuberose (with no seeming relation to what we know as the flowers from
a rose bush).
I loved this scent so much I requested
tuberoses of the florist who prepared the
flowers for my mother’s funeral. I also re-
quested it for my bridal bouquet when
I married Charles Gibson. A few weeks
ago I was at the Estee Lauder counter
in a department store looking for a
new perfume. I told the woman my
favorite flowers were tuberoses and
gardenias. “Have I got the perfume
for you!” she exclaimed. She showed
me the latest arrival in their line of
perfumes called “Private Collection."
To my astonishment it actually said on
the bottle “Tuberose and Gardenia."
I had to buy it! Now when I wear it,
I am flooded with memories—of being
in the Samadhi with my Beloved, of my
mother—Diana Snow—and of my darling
Charles, who passed on to Baba on 11/11/11.
Baba created artists. He told us art
was a way to Him. Walking around the
MPR I see so many artists here at this
time, the most astounding of whom
is Leroy Parker. I was standing behind
a man in the queue for breakfast and
was transfixed by a lifesize face of Baba
painted on the back of his shirt. His eyes
were mezmerising! I couldnt stop staring at Him. The man turned around and
I was looking into Baba’s eyes in another
portrait on the front of his shirt. “I know
you!” I exclaimed. Sure enough, it was
Leroy, whom I had met years ago in Walnut Creek. What a fascinating journey he
has been on with his art. We will have an
interview with him in Issue number seven;
but, as a teaser, we have some photos
of what he was wearing this morning in
this issue.
I hope the love flowing from our readers’ stories fills and gladdens your hearts.
Enjoy the read.
In His love and service,
Love Street Breezes
Information:
Is there a breeze in the realm of love
That does not bear the scent of life from Your tresses? ~ Sana’i
The Love Street Breezes is dedicated with love to Avatar Meher
Baba. Its primary purpose is to contribute to a sense of community
among all His lovers by providing a place for sharing His remembrance. All members of the Baba family are invited to contribute to
this feast of love.
We aim to send you four issues a year, one each quarter, but I’m
sure you’ve all heard the expression: Man proposes and God disposes.
Also, to quote Shakespeare: “The best laid plans of mice and men oft
gang awry.” In other words, my desires don’t always coincide with
the Beloved’s. But I try...
Subscriptions
Printing and mailing you the magazine costs us over $30 per
person per year in the United States and $45 to $50 overseas. Many
times that is for the postage only. However, you can have the option
of going to our website: www.lovestreetbreezes.org and downloading PDFs of the magazine. You may read it online or print it out for
yourselves. It is recommended that you have hi-speed Internet access
to take advantage of this offer.
No one is refused the Breezes due to lack of money, but since we
lost around a thousand subscribers when the Love Street LampPost
was shot down in flames, it is often a struggle to find the money to
pay our bills—but if the subscription fees are beyond your financial
means, then I hope you would be able to read it online.
We can no longer accept credit cards, as it was costing us too much
money for the processor, but you can pay using your credit card on
PayPal. Go to our website and click on ‘Donate’ and it will tell you
how. If you prefer to send a check (U.S. banks only) please make
it out to Love Street Press and send to: Dina Gibson, 8906 David
Avenue, Los Angeles, CA. 90034-2006. If you have any questions
you may call me at 310-837-6419 from 9 to 5 Pacific time, or email
me at [email protected]
Submissions:
We seek expressions of Meher Baba’s message of love and truth.
Your stories, photos, artwork, poetry, letters, articles and humor are
all actively solicited, but in digital format only (email please).
Credits:
Editor in Chief: Avatar Meher Baba
Managing Editor: Dina Snow Gibson
Assistant Editor: Pris Haffenden, Kendra Crossen
Design and Layout: Pris H, Cherie Plumlee, Tom Hart
Proofreader: Multitudes!
Preflight: Tom Hart
Printing: Mownavani Press, Hyderabad
Cover: Designed by Stella Manuel and family
Distribution: Ray Madani
Back cover: Mr. Laxmi Narsimha Rao
Love Street Breezes is published and
copyrighted by the Love Street Press.
Features:
Issue Number 6
Special Bhau Kalchuri Section
Bhau Kalchuri 1927-2013.................................... 5
Farewell to Bhau............................................... 8
Saying Good-Bye to Bhau................................ 11
Bif Soper Writes...............................................13
My Coming to Baba..........................................14
The Telegraph Obituary...................................18
Memories of Our Dear Bhau............................ 21
How Bhauji Entered Our Lives......................... 21
Dearest Brother in Baba, V.S. Kalchuri........... 25
An Incident with Bhau.................................... 26
My Time Working for Bhauji............................27
A Pearl..............................................................27
Requiem for Baba's Last Night Watchman.... 28
I Remember Bhau − A Love Stoiry................. 29
Bhau and the Real Dying................................ 32
Bhauji and the California Wildfires of 2008... 33
The Lion's Roar............................................... 33
My Loving Time with Bhau............................. 35
Bhauji Called Me His Little Mummy............... 36
Bhau and Danny.............................................. 38
Bhauji Got It!.................................................... 38
Bhau's Rapsody............................................... 39
How Meherana Came About..........................40
Three Vignettes with Bhau............................. 42
Late Breaking News − This Just In.................. 43
Bhauji and the Bullock.................................... 44
The Mandali Shop Has Closed........................ 44
A Bhau Tribute................................................. 45
The New Chairman of the Board...............................48
The Meherabad Young Adult Sahavas 2013.............49
What's Happening in Los Angeles.............................51
What’s Happening at the Heartland Center............. 52
Wild Fantasy or Portent of the Future........... 55
What's Happening in Sydney................................... 56
What's Happening in Hyderabad.............................. 58
Haikus for Meher Baba...............................................72
Departments:
Editor’s Page................................................................ 2
Passings
Bill and Peggy Stephens................................. 59
Marion Saunders..............................................61
Jeanette Maroulis............................................61
Emory Ayres.................................................... 62
Robert Rouse.................................................. 63
Howard Schwartz...........................................66
Jenny Zenner................................................... 67
Phil Cowans.....................................................69
Children's Page: Diary of a Fairy Godmother............ 71
Announcements........................................................ 73
A Sneak Peek at Issue #7........................................... 75
3
Photo Stan Bharouh
Bhau Kalchuri, 1927-2013
This article was first printed in the January, 2014 newsletter from Meherabad, In His Service
O
n 23rd October 2013, at 11:17 p.m.,
Bhau Kalchuri, one of Meher Baba’s
close mandali and the Chairman of the
Avatar Meher Baba Trust, passed away
in Jehangir Hospital in Pune, after protracted illness. He was in his 87th year.
Known and widely beloved among
followers of Meher Baba around the
world, Bhau lived a life that was
extraordinary by any measure.
From 1953 through 1969, a time
when Meher Baba had scaled back
the size of His ashrams and was allowing only a very few to live with
Him, Bhau was admitted to the
ranks of His resident disciples and
stayed with Baba in Dehra Dun, Satara, Guruprasad, and Meherazad.
After the passing of Baba’s sister
Mani in 1996, Bhau was selected the
Chairman of the Avatar Meher Baba
Trust, an office that he occupied for
seventeen years.
As the last of the resident mandali and the final mandali Chairman,
Bhau’s death marks the end of an age,
not only for his family and the immediate
circle of those closely associated with
him, but for the world of Meher Baba’s
lovers at large.
Early Life
Vir Singh Kalchuri was born on 13th
January 1927 into a wealthy kshatriya
family in the town of Katangi in Madhya
Pradesh, 115 miles from Nagpur. A fine
student, Bhau was awarded his bachelor’s degree in agriculture and enrolled
in the graduate program in public administration at Nagpur University, earning a
master’s degree in 1953. But after a visit
to the tomb of Tajuddin Baba, a restlessness awoke, and Bhau started to take an
interest in spirituality.
This culminated in Bhau’s first darshan
with Meher Baba, on 31st December 1952
in the town of Saoner. Despite the huge
crowds, four days later Bhau managed to
secure a personal interview with Baba,
who accepted him as one of His resident
disciples. Completing his exams, Bhau
joined his Master and Divine Beloved
in Dehra Dun the following May and
remained with Him until the end.
Life as a Mandali
Only a fortunate few ever enjoy the
privilege of living with the Avatar as one
of His resident disciples. Bhau’s reminiscences, in writings and talks, offer a
treasury for those of future generations
who want to learn what it means to be
with Him and to try to please Him.
in his book of anecdotes on the subject,
While the World Slept.
During the 1960s Baba began to
employ Bhau in another capacity, one
for which he had no prior preparation
or ambition: as a writer! During those
years, at Baba’s directive, Bhau wrote
plays, books of songs, ghazals, and translations. Almost all of this writing
Bhau carried out in Hindi, his mother
tongue. (most of it has subsequently been published in English)
While engaged in this literary
work, Bhau served as the channel
for Baba’s Hindi correspondence
with His lovers in north India. For
many of Baba’s Indian lovers, Bhau
was a key link during those years
when Baba was increasingly retiring into seclusion and unavailable
for darshan.
Lord Meher
Among his many other jobs, Bhau
numbered among those who served as
night watchman. Except when in seclusion, Meher Baba was almost never
alone; even while He slept, He kept one
of the men with Him. Yet the difficulties
of this job go far beyond what one might
suppose! As Bhau often related, the
watchman had to
remain completely
silent and unmoving, even when
being swarmed
by mosquitoes.
Baba often slept
restlessly, waking
with request for a
glass of water or
massage, sometimes engaging
in conversation
or other bits of
exchange. Many
poignant dramas
played themselves
out during the late
night and early
morning hours, as
Bhau has narrated
A few days before dropping His
body in 1969 (as Bhau has movingly
related), Baba instructed him to
write His biography. For the next three
years Bhau was completely immersed
in this monumental work. It resulted in
Meher Prabhu, a large single-volume biography in Hindi verse, and Lord Meher,
the 20 volume, 6000 page narrative that
now serves as the standard account of
the life of the Avatar of this age.
5
Service to the Avatar
Meher Baba Trust
In 1973 Bhau became a trustee of
the Avatar Meher Baba Trust, and over
the next two decades he played a chief
role in transforming a small family-style
operation into a full-scale charitable
trust capable of fulfilling Meher Baba’s
directives in the Trust Deed. Much of
Bhau’s early work was directed toward
acquiring land, a formidable task indeed
in the context of India’s land-use restrictions. Bhau was the prime architect of
many of the Trust’s programs and he
developed and established much of the
legal and administrative vehicle through
which the Trust operates today. Even
spiritual training, referenced in the Trust
Deed, became a reality through Bhau’s
efforts—it now provides the framework
under which many resident volunteers
live and work at Meherabad, Meherazad,
and Meher Nazar.
Shortly before she passed away,
Baba’s sister Mani designated Bhau as
her successor, and since 1996 he has
occupied the office as Chairman of the
Avatar Meher Baba Trust. Readers of this
newsletter will be acquainted with the
enormous, multi-faceted development
which the Trust has undergone over the
past seventeen years.
At the same time, from the mid-1980s
through 2010, Bhau traveled annually all
over the world, talking to Baba groups,
spreading Baba’s message to the general
public, and inspiring many newcomers on
the path to the Beloved’s feet.
Jeff Maguire and Bhau
6
Night Watchman
Bhau 1950’s
Over the years of His ministry, Meher
Baba always kept one of His men on night
watch when He slept. From the late 1950s
through 1969 it was often Bhau who had
this job. After Baba dropped His body,
Bhau used to relate poignant stories
from this night watch experience, which
provide vivid glimpses into this intimate
and rarely seen aspect of the Avatar’s
work. We reproduce below three selections from Bhau’s book While the World
Slept, which records a number of these
anecdotes.*
“Whenever I went for night watch,
Baba always stated three instructions.
They were: ‘Don’t make any noise. Don’t
move. And keep awake.’ One night in
Satara, Baba repeated these injunctions
about four or five times. Then he told me
to go and sit outside. I went out, closed
the door behind me, and sat like a statue
on the chair.
“Usually throughout the night, Baba
would clap every fifteen or twenty minutes, and the night watchman would
open the door, go inside and attend to
him. But that night Baba did not clap.
Not after fifteen minutes, not after half
an hour, not after one hour, not even
after two hours! And there were plenty
of mosquitoes furiously pestering me! I
became stiff from sitting rigidly in one
position, but I kept comforting myself
with the thought that Baba would clap
and I would get some relief.
“Finally I heard Baba snoring loudly. I
thought, ‘Ah, at last, here is my chance.
I must at least change my position. He
is sleeping soundly and won’t hear me.’
Very gently, without making the
slightest sound. I started to lift my
leg. The instant I began lifting it, Baba
clapped and I went inside. Baba asked,
‘Why did you move?’ I was wonderstruck.
I hadn’t made any noise. The door and
the windows were tightly shut. He was
snoring. How could he have known?
“Baba based at me and explained:
‘You moved thinking I was asleep. But
remember, my eyes roam the entire
universe even in sleep! When I can see
so far, can I not see you who are so near
to me? My sleep is conscious sleep. I am
always awake.’”
Baba never liked drafts; and in the
later years he used to keep the windows
to his room closed, even during the torrid Indian summer months. The room, as
Bhau relates, would become as hot as an
oven. On one such night at the peak of
summer in Guruprasad, as Bhau relates,
“I was wondering why Baba wished to
have the doors, windows and ventilators
closed as soon as he retired for the night.
I felt like I was being cooked!
Baba looked at me and commented,
‘I am feeling very cold tonight.’
“I was then taken aback and immediately replied, ‘No Baba, it is terribly hot.
It is hot in here!’
‘I’m telling you I’m cold,’ he insisted.
‘It’s very cold tonight!’ and he repeated
this several times.
“I argued, ‘Baba, it is hot, ask anyone.
I’m feeling very hot and uncomfortable.’
But Baba kept exclaiming how cold it
was.
“Finally, Baba got completely fed up
with me and gestured, ‘What do you take
me to be?’
“I could see that he was serious and
answered, ‘God. You are God.’
‘You take me to be God and yet you
do not believe what I say,’ he replied. ‘If
I am God, I am the Truth. The Truth can
never speak a lie. Truth always speaks
the truth. If you have this conviction,’
Baba concluded, ‘then you will feel cold
because I say it is cold. I always speak
the Truth.’”
Baba used to require of his night
watchmen absolute silence and motionlessness, irrespective of itches and
body position discomfort and the need
to cough or sneeze, irrespective of
mosquitoes and other nuisances. On
one of these nights, as Bhau relates, he
noticed that Baba’s mosquito net was
not properly tucked in, “and if left as it
was, mosquitoes would get in and pester
him. Slowly I stood up being very careful
not to make the slightest noise, and I
began to take a step toward Baba’s bed.
Baba sat up and asked, ‘Why did you
move?’
“I said, ‘I didn’t make any noise, Baba.’
“He replied, ‘I heard the rustling of
your trousers.’
“Then Baba began scolding me and
with a disgusted look, he gestured, ‘Go
back to your home! Don’t stay with me!
I don’t want to see your face!’
“I was amazed. ‘Baba,’ I said, ‘trains
are running nearby, buses, cars and
trucks are running on the roads—they
are making a lot of noise. Occasionally
there are even loudspeakers blaring outside. You don’t complain about that, but
you complain about the slightest fluttering of my trousers!’
“Baba answered, ‘Tell me whether I
have chosen the trains, buses, trucks and
cars to serve me, or have I chosen you for
this purpose? Whom have I chosen? I am
concerned with you because I allow you
to serve me. What concern do I have with
trains, trucks or anything else?’
“I realized my mistake, and felt
extremely touched by Baba’s concern
for me and fortunate for having been
given the privilege of being allowed to
be near him.”
* (North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina:
Manifestation, 1984); the selections appear on pp. 15, 52, and 53.
BHAU’S INTERMENT
The casket arrives
at the Samadhi via
ambulance
The casket carried to the
Samadhi
Prayers at the
Samadhi
Prayers and singing in Mandali Hall,
Lower Meherabad
All photos of interment by
Paul Liboiron
7
Farewell to Bhau
“I was swept into the air after
becoming the dust at Your feet.
I was not afraid, knowing this breeze
would bring me to Your threshold.” Bhau n 23rd October 2013, the last of
Baba’s intimate mandali, Bhau Kalchuri, slipped into the waiting arms of
his Lord and Master Avatar Meher Baba,
in the ICU of Jehangir Hospital in Pune,
his family nearby taking Baba’s name. Because three of Bhau’s grandsons
were abroad, it was decided to delay
his funeral until their arrival. Thus, two
days later, on Friday, 25th October 2013,
at 5 A.M., Baba’s lovers gathered at the
Jehangir Hospital in Pune for prayers and
to bid farewell to the ambulance bearing dearest Bhauji’s body as it began its
journey home. The final destination for
his physical form, among the graves of
the intimate men mandali at Lower Meherabad, had been ordained by Meher
Baba long ago.
The cortege of ambulance and four
cars arrived in Ahmednagar at about 8
AM, pausing first at the Avatar Meher
Baba Trust Compound. Still entirely covered in a white shroud, Bhau’s body was
taken from the ambulance and tenderly
placed on the simple draped stretcher
that had carried many of the Meherazad
mandali at the time of their reunion with
Beloved Baba.
The stretcher was brought into the
family quarters of Bhau’s wife, Rama,
son Mehernath and his wife, Raj, accompanied by Bhau’s daughter, Sheela, and
her husband David, grandsons Amman
and his wife Stephanie, Adeem, and Jetin, for prayers and “Hari Paramatma...”
In a silent salute, the bearers crossed the
Compound, passing before dearest Mani
and Eruch’s office and the other Avatar
Meher Baba Trust Offices, where Bhau
served since 1973 as Trustee and then
Chairman. Also included in this symbolic
crossing, were the rooms where he lived,
wrote, worked and met joyfully with
thousands of pilgrims, after moving
from Meherazad in 1977.
The walking procession entered the
Ahmednagar Meher Baba Centre on the
other side of the Compound. Bhau’s
body was placed briefly before Beloved
Baba’s photograph, where the office
staff led chanting and the singing of
O
8
the cycle of prayers from all religions,
as they had done at the end of each
workday with their Chairman. Bhau’s
“Japu Tumhara Nam, Meher” was sung
wholeheartedly, as the family adorned
the stretcher with flowers. Bhauji’s body
was then taken by ambulance for his
final darshan at Avatar Meher Baba’s
Samadhi in Meherabad.
By 9:30 a.m., the sun shone from a
brilliant blue sky with billowing white
clouds above this most holy place; the
morning air was cool and fresh. About
a hundred pilgrims from East and West,
trustees, residents and villagers surrounded the portico in a respectful
circle of honour and love-laced mourning as Bhau’s body was carried into the
Samadhi. Inside, Bhauji’s family offered
prayers and red-rose garlands.
The stretcher rested in the portico
for some time, in sight of all. Bhau’s face
had been uncovered, showing signs of
the suffering of his final illness. As the
family paid their last respects, there was
silence. This was followed by the singing
of “Satchitananda Paramananda,” the
Gujarati Arti, Australian Arti, and the
Seven Names of God.
In June, just before he fell seriously
ill, Bhau had visited Baba’s Samadhi a
number of times. He made a supreme
effort in his weakened, elderly state to
bow down to His Beloved. He also made
several poignant visits to Meherazad
that same month, after which he said,
“Now it is finished; no need to bring
my body to Meherazad after I die.” The
resonance of those precious moments
was now felt, as the bittersweet mood
of finality fell upon all. “Avatar Meher Baba Ki Jai!” rang out
as the stretcher carrying Bhau’s body left
Beloved Baba’s Samadhi after this final
farewell. As the ambulance drove slowly
away, the wide vista of Meherabad Hill
invoked memories of the panorama of
Bhau’s service to the Avatar’s Trust in
the flourishing of Meherabad, of his tireless travels around India and the world
spreading Baba’s message of love and
truth, and his oft-repeated invitations
to new and old lovers, “Come, come to
India, come to Amartithi, come to His
Samadhi! When are you coming? This
is the place, this is the time when He is
pouring out His Treasure!”
The funeral cortege wound its way
down the hill, while Baba’s lovers followed in their rickshaws, bicycles, motorbikes or cars. Others hurried down
the path and across Dhond Road to
meet the ambulance as it approached
the front of Mandali Hall in lower Meherabad.
Now amid the atmosphere of grief
and joy, unceasing music and sweetly
fragrant flowers, Baba’s humble and
devoted servant, poet and inspired author, night watchman and companion,
His “John” - Bhau - rested before his
Beloved’s chair. Bhau’s family and close ones were
seated nearby; the musicians, singers
and others were on the other side,
seated Indian-style on the floor. The
rest of Mandali Hall beyond the pinkcordoned central aisle was packed with
Baba’s lovers, Bhauji’s friends, who sat
singing or in silence, faces full of tears,
smiles or lost in thought and poignant
remembrance. One by one people of
all description from many places came
forward to say their last goodbyes to
Bhauji, to whom they offered roses and
chrysanthemums, jasmine flower-nets
and garlands, passing hurriedly on in
sorrow or kneeling at his side for one
last kiss, whisper, smile or touch, and
then on to bow at Beloved Baba’s chair
in gratitude and praise.
Music of harmonium, tabla, daf,
guitar and mandolin with songs from
heartfelt voices uplifted those who were
gathered. Waves of Baba’s Love and
memories of Bhauji and all the mandali
now with Him, rocked and washed over
all with lively bhajans, “I Walk with the
King,” “Victory Unto Thee,” “Open up
the Door,” “Salaam Salaam Bhauji,”
and the “Beloved God” prayer sung in
Spanish, along with the sweet singing
of the children from Pumpkin House Orphanage. From every corner also poured
forth, in many languages, the immortal
ghazals and songs that Baba instructed
and inspired Bhau to write: “Tumha Hita
Ho” (You Alone Exist), “Japu Tumhara
Nam, Meher,” the Hindi arti “Adi Sachetana,” ghazals from Meher Roshani,
“Now, When I Even Hear Love’s Name,”
“Meher Come!” “O Moon!”
The wake continued into the afternoon as travelers arrived from far places
In Mandali hall, flowers are lovingly placed for Bhau
Bhau’s body is transported to the men’s gravesite
at Lower Meherabad
Lovers take turns filling in the grave
Young Baba lovers from the Pumpkin House
for Children sing for Bhauji
Bhau’s grave covered with a flower blanket
9
10
– Hamirpur, Kerala, Hyderabad, Nagpur,
Wardha, Amrawati, England – including
Bhau’s grandson, Zubin, from Australia.
Perhaps a thousand attended, some
returning again and again for Baba’s darshan and one last farewell to dear Bhau. At about 5 pm, Jal Dastoor lovingly
asked for all to disperse and proceed
to the burial site. Family and helpers remained to remove the rainbow
mound of flowers and to move Bhauji’s
body into the blue decorated coffin. In
front of the Mandali Hall verandah, the
crowd parted for the bearers to rest
the heavy coffin on a platform attached
to a red tractor, festooned with bright
yellow marigolds and a smiling picture
of Bhau. The surprise sight of the tractor could not help but bring smiles to all
those who have heard Bhau’s hilarious
story of his first and last driving experience for an agriculture exam - on a tractor, ending in disaster! Baba’s touch of
humour and His Divine Game lifted spirits
in this penultimate moment.
As the throng ran alongside Bhauji
on his final ride, a lightness and sense of
onward speed to the Goal filled the air.
Past the old iron gates and early “Meherabad” sign, past the sacred Dhuni,
Baba’s Table House, the Jhopdi and the
great banyan tree, between the tomb of
saint Gilori Shah and the Meher Pilgrim
Centre where Baba gave shelter and
Bhau gave hundreds of talks for pilgrims,
the funeral parade approached the quiet
grassy area of the men mandali’s graves.
The two long rows of white marblecovered graves of the men mandali
are enclosed by tall green shrubs at
Mehera’s request. Bhau’s grave is the
last in the north row and was lovingly
prepared by Ted Judson and his crew
according to careful plans made years
before. A small pandal facing the grave
gave much-needed shade for the dear
family and others. In the early evening
light, Baba’s lovers surged peacefully
all around, stretching for a view, keeping the company of the departed ones,
while the children’s choir sat on the
grass, cradling all with song after song.
The coffin rested on wooden planks
next to the grave. Family members along
with those gathered at the site, bade loving farewell with garlands and a rousing
shout of “Avatar Meher Baba Ki Jai!” as
the coffin was closed. Carefully, hand
over hand, as one team the men of Bhauji’s family Mehernath, Amman, Adeem,
Zubin and Jetin Kalchuri and David Fenster, with two helpers, gently lowered
the casket into the earth with cries of
“Avatar Meher Baba Ki Jai!” Handfuls
of soil and roses were thrown by the
family on the coffin, now deep below the
surface of the earth. Then in the dusky
light, the queue, which wound towards
the Pilgrim Centre and spiraled back near
the Table House, moved quickly forward
as each one offered a handful of earth
or roses. As darkness fell, the queue
ended, most people departed, and the
family and lines of love-workers formed
on both sides of the grave for “gamela
yoga” - filling of the grave with black
earth. Finally the earthen mound was
blanketed with purple and yellow flowers and red-rose garlands. The flame of a
single candle burned brightly in the dark
as it was “time to depart with Baba.”
Stars and moon shone in the night
sky. “O Moon! You are and will be; Meher, You shine in me!” How Bhau and all
Baba’s matchless mandali have reflected
the light of Meher’s Sun in the darkness
of Maya’s night! We honour you and
rejoice in your long-awaited reunion of
45 years, dearest Bhau, loved and loving
slave of our Beloved Compassionate
Father, Meher Baba.
Avatar Meher Baba Ki Jai!
“I did not ask for Wine – but by His kindness He gave it.
What grace! This empty life became an
offering at His feet.”
Bhau
Avatar Meher Baba Trust,
November 2013
[We would like to thank the
following photographers for letting
us use their beautiful photos of
Bhauji in these pages: Lynne Douglas,
Stan Barouh, Dan Basora, John Cole,
Vianny Carvalho, Tom Brustman,
Don Kirby, Jeanne Kerr, Deborah Ash,
Jim Kirkpatrick, Paul Liboiron, Judy
Stephens, and all the photographers
not mentioned that we couldn’t
identify as the owners.]
Beloved Avatar
Meher Baba Ki Jai!
Dearest Bhauji, I miss you so.
You have been such a friend in Beloved
Baba’s Love
A light house to so many souls
Manifesting Beloved Baba’s Love in your own
unique way.
Coming into your room was always a solace
and celebration to the soul
Your wise and gentle love
Your subtle humor and the glint in your eyes
The dancing, singing and oneness in your
presence
The lovely prayers and Baba Arti
The joy you instilled in every heart
The fun and loving names you bestowed on
each one.
The open door to the intimacy of your room,
the open office, no need to make an
appointment,
the open heart.
Helping each to feel comfortable, natural
and happy in your company.
And the loving Mothers, Father-Mother and
Queens so loving to all by your side.
The delightful and inspiring chats when in
the Trust or around the world.
Your originality, your Tata Garu and
Nakedness in all matters
The constant flow of Baba’s Grace in your
company
And in your 3 ring hand slaps bestowing
Brahama, Vishnu, Mahesh
And loving wishes on all with bundles of
Prasad.
All the while being the best Slave of The
Beloved
His loved son
Surrendering to Him
And enduring the suffering
Till the very end.
Dearest Bhauji I love you so
There are no words to thank you for your
love and care
In Beloved Baba’s Love and Precious Service
May your friendship and example of Love
and Surrender
be imprinted in my soul forever
Jai Ho! Jai Ho! Jai Ho! Jai Jai Kar Ho!
Beloved Avatar Meher Baba Ki Jai!
Mother Namo
Tel-Aviv, Israel
Saying Good-Bye to Bhau
Judy Stephens, Meherabad
I
was in the United States visiting
my family when I heard Bhauji was
taken to the Jahangir Hospital in
Pune. I thought, ‘Baba, I was in the
States when Eruch Jessawala went to
you six days before I flew out of New
York on 5 September 2001 to return
to Meherabad. Then again I was in
the States when Katie Irani went to
you. Two day after I flew to the States
to visit my family in 2012, Meheru Irani
also goes to you’. I asked Baba, ‘Will it
happen again with Bhauji?’
I was due back in India on Friday 18
October 2013. I wondered if I would make
it back in time to say good-bye to dearest Bhauji. I had been keeping updated
on his condition, which sounded like he
could go at any time. So as soon as my
plane landed I went directly to Pune, and
at 8:30 am I had my driver take me to
Jahangir Hospital.
I went up to the ICU ward. In India
people are allowed into the ICU, so I went
into the ward and asked where was Bhau
Kalchuri. To my surprise he was alone. It
seems his family had just left. Bhau was
lying there with so many tubes attached
to him; my heart ached to see him that
way. I knew Bhau had not wanted to go
to the hospital anymore, yet here he was
with tubes everywhere. I went and stood
by his bed. He was not conscious, but still
I talked to him. I held his hand and told
him I was so thankful to Baba for allowing
me to get back in time to be able to say
goodbye in person. I told him I loved him
deeply and I was happy he would soon
be free from all the suffering he had been
going through. And though I would miss
him, my heart felt so happy knowing the
great joy he would soon feel when he
finally rejoined His Beloved Baba.
After about twenty minutes I told
Bhauji I was going. Just as I was leaving
the ICU, Sheela, Bhau’s daughter, came
back. We sat in the waiting room talking
for sometime. Then we both went back
into the ICU. Sheela was very busy with
the doctors and the nurses, so I told her
I was leaving to go to Meherabad.
It was around midnight on Wednesday when I got the call that Bhau had
gone to Baba. I immediately started calling other residents and family and friends
in the USA. I also knew I wanted to go to
Pune right away. I called those who were
planning to go in the morning to tell them
I was going to go immediately. So, at 1:30 am a car full of Meherabad
residents left for Pune. There was almost
no traffic, so we got there in less than
two hours. We went straight to Jahangir
Hospital. Sitting in front of the hospital
was Mehernath Kalchuri and a few
others. Mehernath said the other family members had just returned to their
hotel to get some rest. After talking for
some time, he suggested we go into the
empty lobby and say Baba’s prayers. I
had brought a video camera and I set
it up on the lobby desk to record the
prayers being said.
You see, for many years I had videoed
Bhau’s talks at the Meher Pilgrim’s Center and also during his Sunday ‘Bhau
Chats’ in his office at Meher Nazar. I had
wanted to be able to video his final journey to Baba, and now that I was back in
India I was given a chance to do that. I
had the video camera with me.
Mehernath suggested we all get
some rest and meet back at the hospital
around 8:30 am. None of us had hotel
reservations, so we went to the Baba
Pune Center and rested there. We got
back to Jahangir Hospital by 8:30 am. 11
12
By now the group of Baba
lovers at the hospital had
increased to 20 or more. Mehernath led us into the ICU
waiting room. We stood at
the empty bed and said some
of Baba’s prayers. We were
told that Bhau would be kept
in cold storage until Friday,
giving three of his grandsons
time to fly to India from the
USA and Australia. Most of
the Baba lovers wanted to
stay in Pune. I wanted to get more of my
video equipment I had back
in my room in Meherabad. Bif
also decided to return to
Meherabad for some camera
equipment. Bif too, has spent
many years videoing Bhau. He
takes excellent photos as
well, and he wanted to get
his camera.
We got our equipment and
left for Pune late Thursday
night, getting there in the early hours of Friday. At Jahangir
Hospital the number of people
gathered had increased. We
waited in the lobby until we
were given permission to go
to the morgue, a separate
small building.
When permission was given, we stood
outside the door of the morgue. We sang
some Baba songs. Jeff and Nan, from
Myrtle Beach, had just arrived. When
the door was opened and we were allowed inside, Jeff sang, so beautifully,
“O Moon," written by Bhau. We crowded in to this chamber and
said all the prayers. Bhau’s body was
placed on a gurney and rolled to the
ambulance. We all chanted Baba’s name
as we walked along behind it. As Bhau’s
body was being put in the ambulance we
all got into our cars to drive behind it all
the way back to Meherabad. When we
arrived at Meher Nazar in Ahmednagar
there was a large crowd waiting.
Bhauji’s body was taken first into
the room of Rama, his wife. Then his
body was taken into the family room of
Mehernath. In each place prayers were
said. Bhau’s body was then carried into
the Ahmednagar Center before being
taken to Baba’s Samadhi.
A large crowd of several hundred
people was waiting at the Samadhi for
Photo by Paul Comar
the ambulance. After our car was parked
I quickly ran to video Bhau’s body being
taking out of the ambulance and into the
Samadhi. He was then taken to Mehera’s
side. After that he was again placed
in the ambulance and driven to Lower
Meherabad, where many more people
had gathered in the main building, the
original Mandali Hall.
Bhau’s stretcher was carried into
the hall and placed in front of Baba’s
chair. Many of the children from Pumpkin
House had come, singing lovely Baba
songs in their sweet voices. Many other
people sang, it was their chance to say
good-bye to Bhau in a musical way. Bhau
loved music and singing. At all his talks
around the world he would encourage
this expression of love for Baba.
A long line was formed to have a
chance to place a flower on Bhauji’s
stretcher. Many garlands were also
placed, including the ones by his family.
After some time a little tractor pulling
a decorated flat platform came around
the corner. Bhauji’s body had
been placed inside a casket in
the hall and it was then carried
to the flatbed. Everyone was
shouting ‘Avatar Meher Baba
ki Jai’. This chanting continued as we all walked beside
his casket to the awaiting
gravesite, situated beside all
the other men Mandali.
As Bhauji’s body was being lowered into the grave, a
long line quickly formed that
stretched all the way to the
Meher Pilgrim Center and
back around to the grave site.
Each person had a chance to
take a flower and some of the
earth that had been removed
from the grave; they would
then walk by his grave and
drop both inside.
By sundown, most of the
people had left. A number of
us stayed and joined the line
that passed gamalas (a flat
metal bowl) full of dirt from
hand to hand that was then
dropped into the grave. In
this way the grave filled, and
a mound was formed. Flowers were put on top of the
grave, and the last Mandali
now joined all the others of
Beloved Baba’s Mandali—eternally with
Him.
Bhauji’s life was exceptional, to say
the least, in just the endurance of the
many health problems and surgeries he
had to go through. He was exceptional
in the travels he did, not only throughout
India, but also the world. He was exceptional in the sheer volume of books he
wrote. He was also exceptional in his
stamina of seeming to function with very
little sleep, while keeping a team of helpers going from morning to night. Bhauji’s love for and focus on Beloved
Meher Baba was so one pointed that he
inspired it in others. I am very thankful
for the times I had been around him. I am
very thankful to Baba for allowing me to
be back in India in time to say good-bye
to dear Bhauji, and I am so very happy for
Bhau, knowing that he is at last with his
Beloved Meher Baba once again.
Bif Soper Writes...
Bif Soper, Meherabad
We arrived at 3:30 a.m. at Jehangir
Hospital in Pune.
Bhauji had passed on
around 11:00 p.m. Bhau’s son, Mehernath
was
waiting outside. He brought us into
the deserted lobby of the hospital
where
we said Meher Baba’s prayers and arti.
Mehernath said in the
morning we would
be allowed to say Baba’s prayer in the
room where
Bhau had died. The five of
us: Judy, Anna, Zareen, Arjang and myself
drove to the Pune Baba Center. We
arrived around 4:30 A.M. We were
able
to wake up someone who let us into the
dormitory. We rested until
8:00 a.m.
After breakfast, we
had several hours
before we had to be at the hospital. I
suggested we
visit some Baba places
in the neighborhood. We walked several blocks
to Babajan’s tomb/shrine and
saw
the stump of the tree that Babajan
had sat under for so many years,
waiting to give Merwan the special kiss that
would tear away the veil
and reveal to
Him His Real Self. Walking back we visited
Saint
Vincent’s High School where Baba
had gone to school and played
cricket.
It was during His time at St. Vincent’s
that Merwan and his
friends created the
Cosmopolitan Club. The club members
held debates
and gave speeches on interesting topics.
Across the street from St.
Vincent’s
is St. Anne’s Girl’s School where Mehera
and later Mani went
to school. Adjacent
to the school is St. Xavier’s Church. We
were told
it is 150 years old. As school
girls, Mehera and Mani must have
sat
many times on those wooden pews.
Inside the church we stood in front of
the
alter with the image of Christ crucified
before us. We said the
Beloved God
prayer for Bhau. Watching us was an old
woman praying
and another old woman
sweeping the floor. They both took a liking to
us and gave us candles to light in
front of the altar for Bhau.
A few blocks further on there is a
holein-the-wall shop selling snacks and Indian
pickles. A man called Eruch was
standing
behind the counter. He is a friend of
Baba’s nephews Rustom and Sohrab.
His
father was a friend of Meher Baba. He
spoke with Zareen and Arjang in
Farsi. He
then took leave of his work and escorted
us to the agiary
(Zoroastrian fire temple),
next door. Merwan and his family had
attended
this agiary.
From there we walked quite a
distance. Along the way there was a vine
growing on a wall with beautiful
dark
blue flowers. Each of us picked a flower
from the vine.
We arrived in front of
Lal Deval, a Jewish synagog. We had to
talk our
way onto the property because
there were police checking people at
the
entrance, and the three caretakers
inside the grounds somehow got the impression that we were Jewish. We were
allowed to go up to the locked doors of
the temple where we
placed the five blue
flowers on the threshold and we again
said the Beloved
God prayer for Bhau.
This Temple was built by David Sassoon, who also
built Sassoon Hospital
where Meher Baba was born in 1894.
Merwan, as a
boy, used to ride his bicycle
around the synagog. Mehera visited
Lal
Deval just before leaving Pune for the
last time. Now it was time for
us to go
to Jehangir Hospital to say the Beloved
God prayer in the
room where Bhau
had left this world a few hours earlier.
Zareen
commented that on our tour, we
had visited places of many of the
world’s
religions. It seemed appropriate that
we had done this all the
while remembering Bhauji. In his later years, Bhau
emphasized saying
the prayers of all the
world religions. It seems to me that Bhau
tried
his best to create harmony and acceptance among all the diverse
cultures
and religious backgrounds of the many
Baba lovers he came in
contact with.
13
My Coming to Baba
Bhau Kalchuri (Dictated 10th December, 2004)
W
14
hen I was young, I was a person who was very interested in
studying different academic subjects.
I had no interest in spirituality or any
master or saint. I would never visit
such people. I just wanted to earn one
degree after another. I even wanted
to study in foreign countries. And then,
what happened?
Early one morning in 1948, when I
was studying InterScience [the second
year of science studies] at Nagpur University, an old man appeared to me in a
dream. I did not know who he was, but
he was staring continuously at me. Then
he disappeared. This was the first time
I’d ever seen that old man; I could not
recollect ever having seen him before. I
wondered and wondered who he was,
but I could not discover his name. After
that dream, I started rising at 4:00 a.m.
and reading the Bhagavad Gita. Years
passed, and the memory of him remained. Sometimes he would reappear,
but only momentarily. The first look from
him had made room in my heart. I just
wanted to see him again and again.
Everyday, at 10:00 a.m., I would go to
law college, to study for my L.L.B., and
from 11:00 a.m. until 3:00 p.m., I would
attend chemistry class to earn my M.Sc.
I had been accepted in Delhi to study
for a M.Sc. and I actually had already
gone there and begun the course. But
then I read in a newspaper that a new
program in public administration was
being instituted at Nagpur University. I
returned to Nagpur and enrolled in the
courses there. From 3:00 until 6:00 p.m.,
I would go to the classes for my M.A. in
Public Administration.
My brother-in-law was a follower of
Tajuddin Baba, whose tomb is in Nagpur.
Every week, he would come from Saoner
to pay his respects to Tajuddin Baba. I
was not interested in going to the tomb
of any master or saint, but my brotherin-law wanted me to accompany him.
“I’m going to the tomb of Tajuddin
Baba,” he said to me one day during the
final year of my studies. “Do you want
to come with me?”
“No. Please, I am not interested in
such things. You go.”
Still, he insisted, so I accepted that I
had to go. He had brought flowers and
sweets to offer to Tajuddin Baba. But
because I was not interested in such
things, I did not bring anything with me.
We reached Tajuddin’s tomb, where
we found a big crowd of his followers.
They were lined up in a queue, but I
stood in the corner, my arms crossed.
Those people were just looking at me,
thinking, “Who is this man showing such
disrespect to our master? Just see how
he is standing!” They stared at me with
such a look, as if I were a criminal! When
I saw their expressions, I thought, “Now
I am in trouble. These people do not like
my behavior. So what harm is there if I
stand in the queue?”
I joined it and was moving towards
Tajuddin’s tomb, gradually, gradually.
When I entered, I found people offering
sweets and flowers. Then they would
bow down. I thought, “Oh! Now I have
to do this. Otherwise, people will think
that I am very egoistic.” So in order to
please those people, I bowed down. As
soon as I did, a voice came from my heart,
“If you are Real, show me the way.”
Nothing happened to me, and I went
straight home after visiting Tajuddin’s
tomb. Later that night, I was feeling very,
very restless. I could not understand
why. Then, at about 4:00 a.m., I was
sleeping lightly, and that old man again
appeared in my dream! He said, “Don’t
worry. My duty is not over. You will find
out what my duty is, and where my duty
takes you.”
I found a change in my life. I was losing interest in all this studying. Not that
I was a bad student, but suddenly I found
my attitude was different. The next day, I
did not go to college, nor did I do so in the
days afterward. The Head of the Department of Public Administration (who
loved me very much) found out that I
was not attending classes. One day, he
came to me and asked, “Why are you
not coming to college? Please tell me
the reason? You are so intelligent, and
you are very, very well behaved. If I do
not see you in the college even for a
day, I feel uneasy.”
I told him that I did not know what
was happening to me and that I was
feeling very, very restless. I also said
that I had lost interest in studying, lost
interest in everything. I had no interest in anything and did not know what
to do. I also mentioned how restless I
felt after leaving the tomb of Tajuddin
Baba. “I cannot study, or go out or talk
to anyone.”
“I feel that you are suffering from
something quite different,” he said.
“It is not health related. You are not
suffering physically, and I cannot assist
you with such a condition. But I know
a swami in Rishikesh, called Sukhanand.
Immediately, he will help you to become
your original self, because you have to
finish your college courses. Previously,
you took so much interest.”
He gave me Sukhanand’s address, and
accordingly, I wrote a letter to the swami.
I was still thinking about the old man.
I could not make out who he was. He
had talked of his duty, so I knew that he
would take me somewhere.
In the meantime, I went to the Gandhi
ashram near Warda. But after three days,
I was fed up. Getting up early, performing all the rituals and ceremonies in the
form of cleaning latrines, cleaning the
grounds. All were outward things. So I
returned to Nagpur.
After a week, I received a reply from
Sukhanand. He asked me to come to
Rishikesh by a certain date, and I thought
to myself, “I must go.” I sent a reply to
him that I would definitely be there on
that date.
But then what happened? A newspaper article appeared that “Meher Baba
will be coming to Nagpur to give His
public darshan on such and such date.”
I considered going to see Him. But what
could I do? I was definitely going to Ri-
shikesh on those same days. This is the
only introduction I got of Him, through
the newspaper, where he was mentioned not as the Avatar, only as Meher
Baba. “I do not know anything about this
Meher Baba,” I thought. “But the Head
of the Department of Public Administration does know about this swami. So I
will go to Rishikesh. I will not wait to see
Meher Baba in Nagpur.”
I thought that Sukhanand might ask
me to stay permanently, and therefore,
I let my mother and brothers know that I
might be going for good and they should
not expect to see me again, that I was going to Rishikesh to join an ashram. They
were dumbfounded! They all kept quiet,
except for one brother, who said, “It is
your life, and we do not wish to interfere.
We do not know whether this is good or
bad, but if you think it is good for you, we
will not stop you. Now, if you need any
help, do not hesitate to ask us.”
This was a great assurance to me, and
I stayed for two or three days with them.
Then I returned to Nagpur. There I was
reading a newspaper, and what great
surprise did I find?
It had been decided previously that
Meher Baba was to come to Nagpur
(when I would not be there) from Amravati; but instead, He had returned to
Meherazad. Because of this alteration
in His schedule, now he would first go
to Saoner, where my sister and brotherin-law were living. From there, He would
go to Nagpur. This change did not create any difficulty in my seeing Him. In
Saoner, many others besides my sister
and brother-in-law knew me personally.
When Meher Baba came to Saoner,
I went to see Him, thinking that I would
just have His darshan and then go to
Rishikesh. When I reached Saoner on
31st December, 1952, I saw thousands
and thousands of people in a place called
the Orange Market. I asked the people
why the crowd was so big. They replied,
“Meher Baba is giving His darshan. We
are here for that.”
In 1952, Meher Baba had met with a
near-fatal accident in Oklahoma (U.S.A.).
At the end of the year, after coming back
from America, He started giving public
darshan programs. Up until then, He
had never done so. Prior to this, only
a few people knew about Him. He had
been engaged in work with masts (Godintoxicated souls in the higher planes.
Though they appear mad, they are not
worldly mad, they are God-mad). Meher Baba also had poor programs. He
would collect thousands of impoverished
people, wash and dry their feet and bow
down to them. He would also give them
dev dakshina [a gift in the form of money,
clothes or grain in the name of God]. He
had programs for lepers and the blind,
as well as other helpless people, and
would do the same for them: wash their
feet, bow down to them and give them
dev dakshina. Whenever He would go
someplace to work, He would remain
incognito. No one would know His identity. His mission had started in 1921, and
though He had been doing this work, no
one knew who He was.
In 1949, He started His New Life.
When He completed this, He embarked
on His Free Life followed by His Complicated Free Life (complicated by a nearfatal accident in Oklahoma in May 1952).
He was taking upon Himself the burden
of humanity, and the Free Life was complicated by these burdens. This was
followed by the Full Free Life. Then He
started the Fiery Free Life, to spread the
fire of love everywhere by giving public
darshan programs.
Newspaper articles would appear,
saying that Meher Baba is coming to
such-and-such place on such-and-such
date. He went to different places in
Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Andhra
Pradesh and Maharashtra. Everywhere,
thousands and thousands of people
would come just to see Him. I saw Him
for the first time when I went to the
darshan program at the Orange Market
in Saoner. He was sitting onstage, and
His face was so glorious! His sweet smile
was making room in my heart. I forgot
everything. There were so many people
that they did not stand in a queue, but
sat instead, scooting towards the stage.
I went and joined them. Though it was
hot, I was so attracted to Him that I did
not care about anything. I sat in the dust,
just looking at Him.
I knew many people in Saoner. My
brother-in-law was popular and was the
President of the Municipality. He also
was the President of the Reception Committee for Meher Baba. When people
saw me sitting in the dust, one of them
came to me and said, “Your brother-inlaw is Head of the Reception Committee.
He can take you to Meher Baba. Why are
you sitting there?”
“Please, don’t disturb me,” I said. That
man left, shocked because he knew that
I did not follow God and that I was not
interested in saints or masters. When he
found this change in me, he told others.
But they dared not disturb me. Meher
Baba’s sweet smile was throwing arrows
towards me, and I was dumbfounded,
just looking at Baba continuously. He was
sitting, distributing bananas as prasad.
As he handed a banana to someone, He
would caress him or her or pat them on
the back. But when my turn came to approach Him, He was making signs toward
someone else. He did not even look at
me. He just handed me a banana, and
then I was pushed away!
I became mad! I ate the entire banana,
peel and all. I wanted to meet Him and
ask Him, “Please, just take me with you!”
I became so restless, thinking, “Baba caresses this one and pats that one on the
back. But He did not even look at me.”
Because Baba was still observing silence
(as He had done since 1925), He was
making signs with His hands. The way
He treated me I found very, very harsh.
Nevertheless, I started inquiring of those
around Him, “Are you with Baba?”
“Yes,” some of them said with great
force. “What do you want?”
“I want to say something to Baba,”
I replied.
They said, “This is a PUBLIC darshan.
Private interviews are not allowed!
You had His darshan, and you received
prasad. NOW GO.” I tried and tried, but
no one would help me. In the evening,
when Baba was leaving, He was sitting
on top of a car with folded hands. As
the car moved away, I felt that my heart
was going along with Him. I went to my
sister and brother-in-law’s home. They
saw that I was dazed. They did not say
anything, however, because they already
knew what was happening to me.
When I first saw that old man in my
dream, I had started observing fasts,
even though I was in the final year of
my master’s degree. First, I observed a
fast for eleven days, then for 21 days. A
swami at the Ramakrishna Paramahansa
ashram had recommended books by
Ramakrishna to me. I bought every one
and started reading them. Though the
literature was very good, and I liked it, I
was not drawn towards him.
Anyway, I saw Meher Baba for the first
time that day. After my first look, I could
not sleep the whole night. He would appear before me. I could not see anyone
15
16
but Him. At 4:00 a.m., I thought that I Baba’s garland,” I told him. “And he has anything. Again, I ate my second banana,
must find out where He was staying. I given me this note.” The Guard took the peel and all!
got up, and my sister did also. “Where note and said, “All right, but you stay
The third day, Baba went to Nagpur,
are you going?” she asked.
here. Don’t follow me!” He left, looking and I followed Him. At Gita Mandir, there
“I am going for a walk”
back over his shoulder to ensure that I was a big darshan program. So many
“Then I will come with you,” she said. was not following him. After some time, people came, thousands and thousands
“I also want to go on a walk.”
he returned and handed a garland to me. of them! When the Lamp is there, moths
So I had to take her along with me,
As I was taking that garland back need no invitation, they just fly towards
and when we finished, I told her that I to Ranga Rao, rose petals were falling the Lamp. The same thing happened
had to go attend my classes. She laughed on the ground. I had become so mad when Baba gave public darshan. Thouand insisted, “First, take your breakfast that I was collecting them and eating sands of people would run towards the
and then go.”
them! When I reached Ranga Rao, I Lamp. The moths only know that there
“All right. Give me one cup of tea. handed the garland to him. Again, he is the Light from the Lamp, and only the
That is all I want. I don’t want food.” And gave me his promise, “If you come to Lamp knows who they are.
she accepted this.
Elluru in Andhra, I will definitely arrange
The same thing happened everyI then left to find out the place where your private interview with Baba. I am a where He went. Again, I asked someone,
Meher Baba was staying, which hap- member of the Reception Committee.” “Are you with Baba?”
pened to be a government guest house, I told Ranga Rao that definitely I would
His name was Vibhuti, and he had
called the Circuit House. When I got come, and he left.
been at Meherabad in 1925. He had
there, a guard was at the gate and deSo there was no way to contact Meher contracted leprosy. Baba asked him to
manded, “What do you want?”
Baba until I went to Andhra Pradesh. At sit under a mango tree by the side of the
The guard turned me away, but then 3:00 p.m. that afternoon, there was to be road. He was not to leave the place at
what happened? At the bus station, I met another darshan program. When I went any cost once he sat there. Food was
a man named Ranga Rao, from Andhra to the venue, again there was a huge sent to him, and eventually he was cured.
Pradesh. He was there along with his crowd, and I again sat on the ground.
Baba would send him to different
son. He told me that he was on the The sun was out, and it was very hot. places to give out His messages, and VibReception Committee in Andhra, and if I The seated queue was gradually moving huti would do so. I did not know anything
came there, he would arrange a private forward. When I reached Meher Baba, about this man, but it was my fortune
interview with Meher Baba. I promised He did the same thing He had done the that I approached him in particular.
him that I would definitely come. He previous day. He did not even look at me.
“Yes,” Vibhuti replied. “I am with
then added, “I am facing difficulty. My With one hand, He was making signs to Baba. What do you want?”
son wants Baba’s rose garland, but ac- someone, and with the other, He handed
“I just want to say something to
cording to His order, I cannot go and see me a banana. Then I was pushed away. Baba.”
Him right now.”
I felt so disappointed, but I could not do
“What do you want to say?”
Immediately, I said, “I know
“I just want to be with Him.”
where Meher Baba is staying.
“You will leave everything?”
I went there just now, but the
“Yes, I will leave everything,”
guard turned me away. He did
I said.
not allow me to see Him. But if
“What do you do?”
you write a note, I will go again
“I am a college student, but
with your request.”
nothing matters to me. I am
Ranga Rao gave me a note,
determined to leave everything
and I took it to the place where
just to be with Baba.”
Meher Baba was staying. All
Vibhuti was the only honest
of those people around Baba
person I had met around Meher
were actually quite new to Him,
Baba! Most of the others were
but they would say with great
quite new. Though they were
authority and force, “Private
not living with Baba, when I
interviews are not allowed!”
asked if I could say something
I just wanted to say someto Him, on their own, they would
thing to Meher Baba, but these
turn me down. This man, howpeople would say, “NO! You
ever, went to Meher Baba and
have taken His darshan. Now,
told Him that I wanted to see
GO HOME!” Again, I went to
Him. He returned and said that
the place where Meher Baba
I was to come to a particular barwas staying and approached the
rister’s house where Baba was
guard, who exclaimed, “YOU?
staying. I was to come exactly
You have come again?”
at 4:00 p.m., not a minute later
“One of Baba’s lovers is going
and not a minute earlier.
Baba with Bhau, his wife Rama and children Mehernath and Sheela
back to Andhra, and he wants
This barrister had been mar-
ried to an English woman, but after
Independence, she had returned to
England. They had eight or ten servants,
two cooks, etc.—one wonders whether
or not she had that many servants in England. They had two sons, and by the time
Baba came to stay with him, the barrister
had remarried a Punjabi woman, with
whom he had other children.
At 3:55 p.m., I went to the barrister’s
house, but I hid and waited until exactly
4:00 p.m., according to the instructions.
Then I appeared before Vibhuti, who had
been appointed to bring me to Meher
Baba. He asked my name, and I told
him. Without any hesitation, he took me
directly to Meher Baba.
Meher Baba, along with Eruch Jessawala and a few other visitors, were
waiting for me. The other Mandali had
been sent in advance to prepare other
darshan programs. As soon as I reached
Him, He said, “Don’t bow down to Me.
Just sit down.” I did so, and then Meher
Baba asked, “What do you want?”
“I want to join You, Baba.”
“You want to leave everything and
join Me?”
“Yes, Baba. I want to join You,” I
replied.
“Will you obey whatever I say?”
A man from Nagpur was there, and
he remarked, “Baba, first he must know
what obedience to You means and how
to obey Your orders!” “He knows better than you!” Baba said. And that man
kept quiet.
“All right,” Meher Baba said. “I’ll just
see whether you can obey My orders or
not. Listen carefully. If I ask you to take
off your clothes, become naked and go
begging in this locality, will you do it?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Then begin!” Meher Baba ordered.
I started taking my clothes off, and
Meher Baba stopped me. “Just sit
down!” He said.
I did so, and then He asked, “What
do you do?”
“I am in the final year of my master’s
degree.”
“How many months remain until your
final examinations?”
“Two or three,” I replied.
“Will you obey Me 100 percent?”
“Yes, Baba.”
Then He said, “I want you to appear
for your examinations. The day they are
over, come to Me and join Me wherever
I may be at the time.”
Though I wanted to join Him immediately, I did not say anything and just
accepted what He had said. But then I
asked, “Baba, may I come to Andhra to
see You? I have given my promise to go
to there when you are there.”
And Meher Baba accepted this.
On the train to Andhra, I was in the
same compartment as Baba and many
others. He was asking for jokes and
stories and would also ask us to sing. All
of a sudden, He requested me to tell an
interesting story.
So I thought, “Why not tell Him about
the efficiency expert?”
I told him the story about an efficiency
expert traveling on a train. He read an
article that said, “If you just pray to God
for just five minutes, your whole day will
go very well.”
This efficiency expert was very, very
happy. He thought that he must also
pray, since it was guaranteed that, “If
I pray for five minutes, my day will be
very nice.”
He reached home. The next morning,
when he got up, he remembered that
first he should do the prayer. He prayed
to God for five minutes. On the second
day, he prayed again. On the third day,
he started thinking, “I am an efficiency
expert. Why should I spend five minutes
on this prayer? Then I would not be an
efficiency expert. I must do something
new.” So on that third day, he sat on his
bed and prayed, saying, “Ditto! Just as I
said yesterday.”
Baba said to me, “You told Me this
story, and I liked it very much. But remember! Don’t come to Me before your
examinations are over. Otherwise, you
will finish one examination and then just
say, ‘ditto!’ So finish your examinations
and then come to Me.”
After 15 days, the Andhra programs
were over, and I had to leave Him. Baba
told me, “Do not forget whatever words
you have given to Me.” “I will never
forget,” I said. “I will come and join you
wherever you are at the time.”
Much later, Meher Baba said (referring to the mass darshan programs and
the fact that out of all the people who
attended them, I was the only one to
join Him), “Out of millions and millions
of fish, only one fish I caught in My net!”
After the trip to Andhra Pradesh, what
happened? Again, that old man appeared
in my dream. This time he said, “My
duty is over. But remember this, always
remain with Meher Baba and follow His
orders without thinking about anything.
He is the Ancient One, the Highest of the
High. I did my duty, which was to bring
you to Him. Now my duty is over.” I woke
up, but still, I did not know who that old
man was.
According to His wishes, I appeared
for my examinations, and then in late
1953, I joined Meher Baba in Mussoorie,
in the Himalayas. There, I saw a picture of
Sai Baba of Shirdi. I thought, “Oh! This is
Sai Baba. Meher Baba Himself had gone
to see the perfect master, who had called
Meher Baba, ‘Parvardigar! Parvardigar!
Parvardigar!’”
Meher Baba told us that Sai Baba
was in charge of World War I. This war
lasted from 1914 until 1918, and Sai Baba
dropped his body as soon as it was over.
He was All-Knowledge, All-Power and
All-Bliss. There are always five perfect
masters on earth, and he was the Qutube-Irshad, which means the Head of the
Perfect Masters. Beloved Baba told us
about Sai Baba from time to time. He
was a Real One, a Great One. A Great
One shows the right path towards God.
In my case, I realized this.
Once, Meher Baba told us, “Nobody
can understand perfect masters. They
are beyond understanding. They have
to do the work of the world: Sai Baba
was sitting under a tree, smoking a pipe,
yet, at the same time, he was shouldering the burden of World War I. Who can
understand this?”
And just see Sai Baba’s innocence!
Once, a mother brought her naked child
along with her. Sai Baba asked, “Is it a
boy or a girl?” The boy was naked, but
just see the fun of how innocent Sai Baba
was. People attribute many miracles to
him, but they do not know what he could
do and can do. He could make a stone
conscious of God, such power he had. I
bow down to him.
From Mussoorie, Baba sent me to a
convocation with a professor of philosophy, C.D. Desmukh. After the convocation, I joined Meher Baba in Dehra Dun in
1953, and then we went to Satara. Once,
Baba went on a mast tour for 20 days.
We passed through Shirdi, and Baba
asked the driver to stop. He said, “This
is the place of Sai Baba.” We stayed there
for five minutes. I had the feeling that I
was with Sai Baba, and that the old man
had been none other than Sai Baba, who
played his role for me.
17
The Telegraph
www.telegraph.co.uk
Bhau Kalchuri – Obituary
Bhau Kalchuri was an Indian disciple of the 'incarnation
of God', Meher Baba, who captured the mute guru’s life
in Hindi verse
7:35PM GMT 22 Jan 2014
B
hau Kalchuri, who has died aged 86, was an Indian writer
and poet, and the biographer and close disciple of Meher
Baba (1894-1969), an Indian guru famous for, among other
things, not uttering a word during the last 44 years of his life.
Meher Baba, also known as “The Compassionate One,"
claimed to be the Avatar – the most recent incarnation of
God, following in the footsteps of such figures as Zoroaster,
Buddha, Jesus and Mohammed.
Attaching no importance to “creed, dogma, caste systems
or religious ceremonies and rites," he boiled down his teaching
into a list of “realities” that included love of God, self-sacrifice,
respect for others, self-discipline and calm in adversity. He
taught that true self-realisation comes about over millions of
reincarnations – a process he called “involution." For the last
silent 44 years of his life, he communicated with an alphabet
board and eventually only with hand gestures.
Baba’s teachings caught on in the West, where he became
something of a celebrity. In the 1930s he travelled to America
and hobnobbed with Hollywood stars such as Gary Cooper,
Charles Laughton, Tallulah Bankhead, Boris Karloff, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks junior He also travelled to Britain
on the same ship as Mahatma Gandhi. The pair were reported
to have had several meetings at which (according to his followers) Baba advised Gandhi to abandon politics, provoking
a sharp response from an aide to the Mahatma: “You may say
emphatically that Gandhi never asked Meher Baba for help or
for spiritual or other advice.”
In the 1950s Baba established a spiritual centre in South
Carolina, and in the 1960s was one of several
Indian gurus whose teachings caught on with
hippies and pop stars of the era. He provided
the inspiration for Pete Townshend’s pop
opera character Tommy – the deaf, dumb and
blind boy who “sure played a mean pinball”
– while his slogan, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy’’
inspired a notably irritating song by Bobby
McFerrin in 1988 (it was subsequently used to
savagely ironic effect in war movies).
Baba’s travels enabled him to fulfill a prophecy that he would shed his blood in both East
and West in his mission to bring the world
together. His “Cross” was the motor car: he
was injured in two road accidents, one in the
United States in 1952, the other in India in 1956.
In the jargon of his followers, Baba
“dropped his body” in 1969. For the last 16
years of his life Kalchuri had been one of his
closest disciples (or Mandali), serving as his
night watchman, secretary and translator.
Among other things, Baba encouraged “Bhau” (“Brother”
in Hindi) Kalchuri to write songs, poetry and Hindi forms of
Persian ghazals (love poems to God). Before he died Baba also
asked him to write his biography – also in Hindi verse, tapping
out the metre he wanted him to employ.
Kalchuri prepared the ground by writing a prose version in
English – a massive 6,472-page chronicle in 20 volumes, finishing the work in eight months in 1971, writing 18 hours a day.
His physical endurance was extraordinary: food and the call
of nature were secondary to his work for his master.
Vir Singh Kalchuri was born on January 13, 1927 into a
prosperous Rajput family in Katangi, Madhya Pradesh. After
a degree in public administration, law and science at Nagpur
University, he took graduate studies.
In 1952, however, the course of his life was changed by a
chance meeting with Meher Baba at a public gathering. “From
a distance, I saw him. He was so radiant, so glorious,” Kalchuri
recalled. When Kalchuri pleaded to become his disciple, Baba
asked: “Will you obey my instructions? If I ask you to become
naked and go begging, will you?” Kalchuri assented and began
to undress, but Baba stopped him.
In 1953, after completing his studies, Kalchuri became, at
27, the youngest resident Mandali of Meher Baba’s ashram.
After Baba’s death, Kalchuri devoted himself to keeping His
flame alive, publishing several more books, serving as chairman of the Avatar Meher Baba Trust in India and travelling
round the world to spread his teachings. He was meticulous
in answering every card, letter or email sent to him, and held
weekly sessions on Skype.
“God alone exists,” he proclaimed. “Whatever we see
existing, exists in non-existence.”
Bhau Kalchuri, born January 13 1927, died October 23, 2013
THE LOVING FRIEND
Memories of Our Dear Bhau
Karen and Alan Talbot, California
W
henever Bhau was in Northern
California between 2000 to 2006
he stayed at our house. The following may have happened on one of his
first nights there. There were a few of
us there, Karen, Tommy and Barbara
Brustman, Louise Barrie, Ron & Lisa
Greenstein and others. Bhau went to
bed about 10 p.m. We kept quiet so as
not to disturb him. But a little later I
heard a noise in the hall. So I went out
and there was Bhau. He was wearing
his new blue pajamas.
I said, “Bhauji, what’s wrong.” He
said, “I need another hug.” “Wait here,
I’m right on it” I responded. I hurriedly
walked to the family room and I told the
people, to create excitement, “Hurry,
Bhauji needs help.” They all came
quickly, and then I told them, “Bhauji
needs another hug.” We all laughed,
and Bhau got many hugs. Then he tootled happily down the hall back to bed.
We all stood watching him and when
he got to the bedroom, he turned and
waved sweetly and then disappeared
into his room. What a guy!
In 2004 or 2005, when Bhau was at
our house, I asked him privately if he
would not talk philosophy. ‘No?” he said
in great amazement. I asked him “Tell
Mandali Meherazad stories; everyone
knows the philosophy.” He was yet
more amazed. But he did tell stories,
great stories, particularly those regarding Kaka Baria and Baidul and their never
ending struggles.
One thing we learned was that Kaka,
who was the Meherazad manager, was
downright tight with dispensing soap
and razor blades. The men got chips of
soap and rusty razor blades. In fact, if
a blade was discarded, another Mandali
member would pick it up and re-re-re use
it. Now Bhau, ever the clever diplomat,
tried to sidle up to Kaka and work a
“sweet” manner to get better supplies.
Of course, that all failed.
On the last day, Bhau was at our place
giving his final talk to the troops. In the
course of the few days at our house,
perhaps over 750 people came to hear
Bhau. As I introduced him, I made the
usual jabs and teases that got everyone
laughing. We enjoyed the repartee.
Then I said, “Bhauji, we were all moved
by your plight in the Ashram with Kaka’s
miserliness, so I decided to present you
with a parting gift from the heart.” And
I handed him a plastic baggie filled with
soap chips and old rusty razor blades.
He laughed and laughed, and then gave
us another wonderful talk. Such was
our Bhauji.
In 2006, Bhau stayed at our home
first, so the initial meeting was well
attended. Unfortunately, our washer
overflowed and flooded the garage. We
had to call the Roto-Rooter company. I
was introducing Bhau, and I had to also
announce the plumber’s presence. Due
to the clog in the drain, the plumber had
to go onto the roof and use the grind
out machine for about twenty minutes.
Needless to say, I was less than thrilled
to further announce this plight. As this
talk was inside, the noise on the roof
wasn’t quite so bad.
Anyway, finally the job was done and
the talk was over. I was attempting to
subtly get the plumber to meet Bhauji
(whose talk I’d mostly missed), however, one of the forceful Baba lovers
kept intervening in my diplomacy. But
the plumber did agree he had always
wanted to see the view from our yard
(which is quite nice). So the plumber
joined me in the backyard (with about
100 Baba lovers), but before I could go
further, this forceful Baba lover grabbed
him and dragged him into the house into
the hallway in front of Bhau’s bedroom
for over five minutes. I had to make small
talk with the plumber (who was a lovely
person), while the forceful Baba lover
babbled on. It was quite a scene.
Finally Bhau exited the bedroom with
Max, his aide-de-camp. Bhau looked
at me, the other Baba lover and the
plumber five feet before him. I gave
Bhauji a “look," and he gave me a return
“look." I introduced the plumber to
Bhau as the man who fixed the clogged
drain situation. Without blinking an eye,
Bhauji walked to the man and gave him
a long loving hug and a “Jai Baba." The
man had no choice but to hug Bhau
back. (Mind you, he had no idea who
Bhau was or why there were 100 people
at the house to meet him).
And so with that completed, our
plumber went on his way. And Bhau – I
had to explain the whole thing. He and I
had the biggest laugh. This is the Avatar,
always cleaning.
How Bhauji Entered Our Lives
Mike McDonald and Sarah Schall, Meherabad
In our lives, our general tendencies
are perfectly opposite: Mike would not
like to impose himself on the Mandali
members, and Sarah would linger in their
presence whenever possible.
So, it would often happen that on
the way to Meherabad from working in
the Meherazad clinic, Sarah would stop
in the Trust office to greet Mani, Eruch,
Khorshed, Bhau, anyone who was available in the early to mid afternoon. This
would very often include tea with Eruch,
and of course, Bhau never stopped working. When finished greeting all the other
Mandali members, Sarah would visit
Bhau in his office.
Bhau would always welcome visitors, even in the midst of intense Trust
office work. Bhau might be in discussion
regarding any topic, from land to public
officials, to letters being read out, etc.,
but still he would tell her to sit down,
every time.
However, there was always a catch
to meeting Bhau, in that, if Sarah just
wanted to slip in and out because she
was exhausted or had other work pending, Bhau would invariably not permit her
to leave for hours. Obstruction of one’s
will was a personal favorite of Baba’s,
and Bhau’s management of this issue
remained unique.
Invariably, all of the Mandali members
would often ask, “Where is Mike?” Since
we were then only co-workers, Sarah
seldom knew what Mike was doing or
21
22
where. When we checked in with each
other at evening arti about various work
details, though people often assumed
we were always together, for the first
one to two decades we were in opposite
locations, Meherazad vs. Meherabad. We
had no idea what each other’s days were
like. At evening arti, Sarah would often
tell Mike that Eruch or Mani or Goher or
Bhau or Khorshed had asked after him,
yet he remained shy until Bhau started
the internet chats.
In this way, the Mandali would draw
us into their orbit. Bhau gave Mike the
nickname “Dr. of Astral World” and also
“King of the Astral World." Bhau would
even send patients to the Dr. of Astral
World, and they would wander around
Meherabad looking for him. Mike would
have no idea what Bhau wanted him to
do with these people. Mike would try
to give them Homeopathy, but they
would wander off because they had been
expecting something different, more
esoteric, like an initiation or something.
Thus he worked on Mike’s pride.
Bhau simultaneously nicknamed
Sarah “Sister Panchavati Cave” about
ten years before the duty appeared in
Meherabad to give tours of the Panchavati Cave, which Bhau later assigned to
Sarah. Bhau told her many things about
her service to Baba in Panchavati Cave,
and would often change the nickname
to “Mummy Sister Panchavati Cave” or
“Queen of Panchavati Cave” or “Doctor
of Panchavati Cave” to work on her ego
also.
So, we were both in the same ego
grinding boat, more or less, when the
Bhau internet chats started to happen.
Sarah went to the chats while Mike
stayed in Meherabad, but gradually,
Bhauji pulled Mike in, and gave him the
role of serving tea for those assembled
for the chats. This role was multipurpose,
in keeping Mike more or less alert and
attentive. Sarah was given permission by
Bhau to assist Mother C, Janice, in typing
the text for the chat.
What started as a few hours, went on
and on and on, every Sunday afternoon.
We would leave Meherabad around 3
pm, to get the tea service ready and
garland Baba’s photo as Bhau entered
the chat room anytime from as early as
3:20 pm onwards.
The chats soon became a highlight
of our week, as we felt Beloved Baba’s
presence come alive through Bhau’s in-
Photo by Chris Pearson
spirations of thought, word, and deed.
Bhau’s character was quiet among the
Mandali members, yet far more mischievous than one could ever imagine at first
sight. These internet chats served as a
wonderful opportunity to draw many
of His Lovers closer to Him, with a lot
of humor mixed in with ego grinding,
creating a loving family feeling globally.
Though only a few seemed to relish being on the “hot seat," Bhau was
increasingly accurate in his deliveries of
ego grinding experiences for many, not
only in his selection of nicknames, but
in the daily course of events, both local
and global.
Thus, from our hardly knowing who
he was, to his almost unintelligible talks
in the MPC where we did our utmost to
keep awake, to his highly intelligible internet chats, the progression of coming
to know Bhau over two to three decades
was for us a slow one, and an unforgettable experience that has enriched our
lives and hearts. It has indeed brought
Meher Baba more alive for each of us
in many faceted ways: in having the
experience of a global family, we still
share inwardly with many around the
world who are still grieving the loss of
this matchless Mandali member.
Last but hardly least, Bhau was instrumental in us getting married in 2010.
Though we had lived sincerely as brother
and sister for two decades, many of our
fellow residents encouraged us to get
married over the years, as we were the
only ones living in Meherabad who accepted this brother/sister choice offered
by various Mandali members. In May of
2010, Bhau was attending a Memorial Day
weekend chat in Meherana, USA, while
Mike and Sarah watched online in Meherabad. In that chat, Bhau announced that
we were married. He knew very well we
were not, and his team assured him that
we lived a pure life as brother and sister,
and so we were puzzled as to what he
meant by that.
We gave some thought to this topic
during the month of June, and were
about 50/50 on the matter of marriage
when Bhau returned to the Trust office
in early July. We arranged to meet Bhau
on this topic, and he selected the timing
of the 4th of July about five minutes before the chat. Anyone who knows Bhau
knows he won’t miss his chats for anything, so we were a little apprehensive.
Upon arriving at his room, before we
could even enter he said, “Get married!”
The “discussion” was over.
We were both shocked, and really not
ready for that type of a response before
we could even sit down. Then, during
the chat, he wanted to announce like
a proud father that we were engaged!
Even the word engaged shocked us,
and we begged him not to make any
announcement of the kind. He looked
at us so innocently – as if we had taken
the fun out of his wish to tell the world
via the chat.
So for us, from Bhau’s being hardly
visible in the Trust office during the early
years, Bhauji’s influence in our hearts
becoming more awakened to Beloved
Baba’s wish, and soared in ways neither
of us could ever imagine possible. We
both remain eternally grateful for Bhau’s
incredible dedication to Beloved Baba,
his monumental efforts in establishing the Trust and Trust estate on solid
ground, his visionary inspirations in the
forms of Awakenings, with pilgrims in
the internet chats, spiritual training for
anyone in the world interested in participating, etc. From being one of the more
obscure among the Mandali, his generous heart made him readily accessible to
the hearts of many of His (Meher Baba’s)
lovers around the world.
Dearest Bhau, we so look forward to
meeting you again, and from the bottom
of our hearts, thank you Baba for Your
dear Bhauji! Jai Baba.
THE STORY TELLER
Dearest Brother in Baba, V.S. Kalchuri
Marilyn McGivney, Washington D.C.
B
hau Kalchuri took his last breath
to become absorbed in Beloved
Avatar Meher Baba just days ago. His
passing had long been expected by the
entire world of Baba Lovers because
Bhau himself had told us for more than
twenty years that he would not see us
again as his death was imminent. How
long and how patiently Bhau waited for
His Beloved’s call!
My first encounter with Bhau was in
May 1972 in his room at Meherazad. I
was then twenty-five years old and very
new to Meher Baba. Just weeks before
this in Katmandu, Nepal, I had asked God
to find me. My own endeavors to find
God while traveling alone throughout
the Far East had led me nowhere. A few
days after this surrender, I heeded an
inner call to go to India from Nepal as
quickly as possible. I felt certain that God
would find me in India. And sure enough,
within thirty-six hours of arriving in India,
I learned about Meher Baba in Benares
from Brad Gunn and accepted Him as the
One whom I had been seeking.
But the prospect of meeting Baba’s
disciples daunted me. I felt that I had
been called to learn about Avatar Meher
Baba, but I was uncertain that I had been
chosen to love Him. With much trepidation, I followed Brad’s instructions for
traveling to Ahmednagar. Now I was at
Meher Baba’s home among his Mandali,
feeling small and out of place in the pres-
ence of such great lovers of God.
When Pendu alerted Bhau to my
presence outside Mandali Hall, Bhau interrupted his writing of Meher Prabhu, invited me into his room, and encouraged
me to write out for him the story of my
recent coming to Baba for inclusion in
Meher Prabhu. Though Bhau requested
this of me, I never submitted a written
story to him. I could not fathom how
my small story might have any place in
a biography of Meher Baba.
My next one-on-one meeting with
Bhau was in the late 1980s at the home
of Ursula and Ed Van Buskirk in Walnut
Creek, CA. I had scheduled a private
meeting to thank Bhau for his courtesy
to me so many years before and to express regret for not having submitted my
written story. Bhau smilingly explained
that only stories of those who came to
Baba while Baba was still in the body
had ultimately been included in this epic
biography in verse. So my story would
not have been used even if I had written
it. My relief must have been palpable.
Bhau then invited me to visit India soon,
for he cautioned that he would not be
returning to the United States.
Yet I had the pleasure of Bhau’s company for days and weeks at a time almost
every summer for the next twenty years
either in California or in Washington, DC.
Bhau made annual sweeping tours of
the United States to bring Meher Baba’s
light and messages to gatherings of Meher Baba lovers throughout the country.
Bhau made himself available to me
and to all who approached him. He
laughed with us, answered our questions, and told us stories. He famously
“talked and talked and talked” and
reiterated that “whether you want it or
you don’t want it, you will get it.” It, of
course, was the will of Meher Baba in our
lives and, eventually, God-realization.
Most of us who flocked to Bhau were
about the same age, and many of us had
the same first names, such as Barbara or
Nancy, and John or Bob. To distinguish
us, Bhau gave us nicknames. My first
nickname was Soldier. Later, Bhau gave
me a “field promotion” to My General.
This is how it happened: Bhau had extended his morning talk into lunch time,
despite appeals from me that he end
his talk at the posted time. He would
not allow me to dismiss his morning
talk audience so that he could sit down
to lunch in the dining room with a few
invited guests. I threw up my hands in
surrender and invited everyone to stay
for a late lunch. While Bhau continued
his talk, I emptied the refrigerator and
pantry to prepare food for all present.
I had planned lunch for 19 but in the
end served 57! The number of guests
for lunch was stretched that day; more
importantly, so was I!
Bhau went everywhere, stayed every-
25
where, and met everyone. No one was
unimportant to him. He loved and welcomed us all and held hands with us as
we walked with him. By “coincidence,”
Bhau was in the Tampa Bay Area when
I was called there from California to my
dying mother’s bedside. My mother
passed away surrounded by her loving
children and grandchildren just hours before Bhau was to leave Tampa. With my
family’s unexpected goodwill, I rushed
to Tampa International Airport hoping to
see Bhau. Bhau had kept my darling and
“Babaphobic” mother in his thoughts as
she lay dying, and he comforted me as
his final act before boarding the plane to
the next destination on his full American
itinerary.
Bhau was one of Meher Baba’s most
intimate disciples, a prolific writer of
songs, plays, poems, ghazals, and biographies both in English prose and Hindi
verse. He was long the chairman of the
Avatar Meher Baba Perpetual Public
Charitable Trust. In this capacity, he
brought into being the components of
Meher Baba’s Trust Deed: the pilgrim
retreat, the archives, the school for
training spiritual aspirants, in addition
to myriad projects that will ensure that
the Beloved’s home remains a place of
pilgrimage for the centuries to come.
Bhau endured years of unspeakable
illness and physical pain. He longed profoundly and increasingly for His Beloved.
All the while, he brought to fruition in
Meher Baba’s name projects for the
Trust that appeared to be impossible.
Friend and companion, Bhau was the
living example of the “fortunate slave.”
Thank you, Beloved Meher Baba, for
Bhau’s presence in our lives and on the
continent of North America.
An Incident With Bhau
Winifred Kershaw
Bhau gave such loving attention to
each of us that it was remarkable. On
this occasion, he was staying at our
house and he decided he wanted to do
a Chat from our house with everyone
invited to be an audience. The people
who were arranging it decided to use a
real time typist to let people see both
the incoming questions and comments
and Bhau’s responses projected on a
large screen.
My living room had to be darkened.
It was scheduled for daytime and my
drapes did not shut out the light. So we
had to figure out a fix. There were 8 glass
doors, 6 large half rounds above them
and two small half rounds and no time.
I had butcher paper but it let light in. We
found that with 3 layers we could block
out the light almost entirely.
I remember it as a very long night of
measuring, re-cutting and and trying
to get the pieces to stick together and
taping them over the windows. By the
time it was done, I was what Bhau calls
“out of mood” or the American “very
cross." I found a spot to sit. Chats have
not been very interesting to me in the
past and I didn’t expect much.
Bhau launched into an incredible
story. Baba was having a Sahavas in India
for a few days and many people came.
One young married woman wanted
desperately to come as her uncle was
going to it but her husband was very
against Meher Baba and she knew he
would forbid her to go. So she told him
they were going somewhere else.
When they got to the Sahavas Baba
called her to Him and asked her how she
had managed to come. She had to tell
Him about the lie to her husband. He
was displeased but he gave her a choiceshe could leave immediately or she could
stay but under these conditions: she was
never to see Him again, never to read
anything by or about Him, never have
a picture of Him, never speak His name
and never attend any Baba meetings or
associate with other Baba lovers and
never sing to Him or write to Him. She
accepted these stringent conditions for
the chance of having these few days
with Baba.
Bhau did not see her again for many
years until he was visiting the town
where she lived for a Baba meeting. He
saw her by the road where the Baba lovers were gathering and had the driver
stop. He jumped out of the car and went
to her and asked what she was doing
there as she was breaking Baba’s orders.
The woman laughed and said that she
was the daughter of the woman who
had stayed at the Sahavas. Her mother
had obeyed all His instructions for all the
intervening years- she never spoke His
name. She told Bhau that her mother
burned with the light of her love for
Baba and all her children and her husband were now devoted Baba lovers.
Her husband said she should be able
now to join them but she would not disobey and kept Him silently in her heart.
This story touched my heart and
made a deep impression and made me
so grateful to be in the room! Thank
you, Bhau!
Befitting a fortunate slave, carry out
every command of the Master without
any question of how or why.
About what you hear from the Master, never say it is wrong, because my
dear, the fault lies in your incapacity to
understand him.
I am the slave of the Master who has
released me from ignorance. Whatever
my Master does is of highest benefit to
all concerned.
Three couplets by Hafiz read aloud to
Meher Baba during His last days in 1969.
26
Bhau (L) and Eruch (R) help Baba to walk the hallways of Guruprasad
following His second car accident
My Time Working for Bhauji
Kelly Malone, New Zealand
D
uring one of my longer stays at
Meherabad, in the late ‘90s, I was
asked if I wanted to work for Bhauji at
the Trust Office. The offer occurred out
of the blue when Bhauji was visiting
the Pilgrim Centre for one of his Friday
talks (competing with afternoon tea
and donuts). How wonderful it used to
be to see Bhau’s gleaming face appear
at the Pilgrim Centre. His presence felt
as though he was cleansing the air with
negative ions.
Jumping at the chance to work for
one of Baba’s Mandali, I promptly
expressed my interest. My role was to
sit with Bhauji in the Trust Office and
take down dictation and any other
general notes that might arise during
the course of the day. These notes
were to be compiled and disseminated
in letters / email communication to
Baba’s dear ones around the world.
This was in the time when Freeman was
working with Bhauji. I was delighted to
be involved with Baba’s work.
I packed my bags, checked out of the
PC, paid my dues, and cancelled the
remaining booking I had there for
the following six weeks. At the Trust
Compound,
Freeman
generously
acquainted me with the area and those
who worked and lived there, including
This is my Bhau's departing pearl: I was
at the MSC in Myrtle Beach on pilgrimage when Bhau rejoined Baba. I was
having this experience of Baba's living
Presence in the air, watching over everything.
Baba said He never leaves and I was
experiencing this literally—It was a marvelous experience...then, when Bhau
departed earth, I felt him inwardly join
Baba in the air there at the MSC [Meher
Spiritual Center].
Whenever my thoughts and heart
turned to Baba, which was quite often,
Bhau was there too, as if one with Him,
but with his own individuality intact.
I sang the song O Moon, one of my
favorites, twice that day, once during
a devotions with a fellow pilgrim, and
then, by request and spontaneously
the kitchen staff. I arranged my food
preferences with them – masala chai
and buckree – and they subsequently
went to the bazaar and got the
necessary provisions. I was shown
the routine of the kitchen, how the
laundry got done, and all other general
housekeeping matters. Wondering how
I’d get to Arti, I talked with Freeman on
the matter. It seemed easy enough to
take a rickshaw. I was assured others
from the Trust sometimes travelled to
Arti and I could go with them. My room
was around the back of the compound,
not far from where the toilets are. I
unpacked and settled into my monastic
accommodation – happy in the heart of
Ahmednagar’s hub, dust and noise.
On the first day, after little sleep due
to trucks running outside my room,
and catching the early morning call
to prayer, I sat ready in Bhau’s office.
My job description had seemed clear
enough, but once there I wasn’t sure
what to write. Not much seemed to
happen. So I sat there, across from
Bhauji, my typing skills at the ready,
trying to catch what he said, and he no
doubt trying to understand what I was
saying… Over the course of the day
events unfolded and there was a sense
of matters simply evolving.
A Pearl:
John Poag
and unplanned, with Jane Brown at
the Thursday night music session at the
Saroja library.
It was sung with extra depth and pain
that day, remembering Bhau, and feeling
the depth of Bhau's inner longing for
for Baba's Ultimate Embrace, which he
now has.
Pearl #2:
Now I am recollecting what a special
privilege it was to have been able to be
with Bhau in India, Nov 2012, and share
my story and sing for him at a special
meeting that was arranged though he
was officially not seeing anyone at that
time. I felt it might be my last visit with
Bhau and it turned out it was.
On the second day, although I had
been shown the relevant process, I
had even less of an idea as to what I
was supposed to do and felt at sea.
There was no specific task-orientated
list of jobs to be done. When I tried to
enquire more specifically, I was told not
to worry and it appeared someone else
was taking notation, and the laptop
was otherwise engaged. I sat across
from Bhauji and listened, pen and
paper poised at a loose end. People
visited, conversation ensued about
various matters and Bhauji included
me – asked me what I thought, but as
I sat there I began to miss Meherabad
and the clear routine. Moreover, I was
missing Baba’s Samadhi.
On the third day, I broke the news of my
decision to return to Meherabad. When
telling Bhauji I was leaving my job,
after two days, I honestly expressed
to him my desire to be close to Baba’s
Samadhi. He accepted graciously and
the matter flowed on by. I soon found
myself settled back into a room at the
PC – before being moved out to one of
the Hostels at the back of Meherabad
for the duration of my stay – happy to
be closer to Baba’s Samadhi once again.
I was there with Ted Judson, and
Peter and Debbie Nordeen. Bhau asked
me to share my story and I was weeping
profusely telling it. We then sang some
particularly poignant Baba songs that
Bhau had written including O Moon.
There were a lot of wet eyes in the
room. It was a highly charged Baba moment with Bhau, of which there were so
many in his life for sure.
Bhau was such a channel for Baba,
and I remember with great happiness
and satisfaction the many Midwest
Gatherings (I attended every one, from
1998 to 2005)—when Bhau would show
up, Baba would show up in a special way
and the dreams would be magically full
of Baba!
In Baba's Love,
John
Requiem for Meher Baba’s
Last Night Watchman
Nivedita Nagpal, Mumbai
M
onday afternoons will never be the
same again in Meherabad. Chai,
Popcorn & Bhauji’s chat at the MPC will
be sorely missed by a few generations
of pilgrims who often congregated to
hear him speak of his times with Meher
Baba. The last of His mandali, Bhauji, an
immortal spirit, has now merged with
His Beloved. His final Monday chat happened on the last day of December 2012
chanting Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh while
tapping the back of our hands.
It was Monday, the 31st December
2012. Pilgrims came by the bus to the
Ahmednagar Center in the Trust Office compound. No one was expecting
Bhauji to meet visitors. “He is ill,” said
his caregivers. But Bhauji’s indefatigable
spirit could not resist meeting new
pilgrims. We were told he might come
only for a few moments in the Center.
We were happy, as though God would
walk amongst us again. In the Center,
chairs were laid out; bhajans were being
sung…all waiting for Bhauji to come. He
was wheeled in an hour later and he laid
his eyes on me. He never took his eyes
off me and then summoned me. I was
asked to give an introduction of Bhauji
to the pilgrims who were gathered there
for the first time and had never heard
Bhauji speak. But I had heard him often.
For the last 14 years, many times I went
to Meherabad from Mumbai. If it was
Monday, the chai and salted popcorn
were just the perfect afternoon break
before Bhauji came to chat. Often we
grabbed two white saucers, scooped
the popcorn and sat in silence munching on it, as Bhauji narrated stories in
the dinning hall. I vaguely remember a
few stories of obedience or surrender
and some that emphasized on how to
live life as per Baba’s Wish. Each story
had a moral. Bhauji never spiced a story,
he told it the way it happened, just like
Eruch did in Mandali hall in Meherazad.
Bhauji signaled me to talk. It was like
a surprise test sprung on me! What had
I learnt while listening to the numerous
stories in the MPC for so many years?
Would it be possible for me to remember
any of the stories as much as the taste
28
of the chai and salted, buttered popcorn? For a moment I could not recollect
anything expect the chai and popcorn.
It was a Monday morning and for the
first time we were to have a chat with
Bhauji and then were to return for the
afternoon snack. It was all in reverse order. Was this an ominous sign that Bhauji
had planned to leave us? Some stories
were etched in the mind, and they were
shared with the new pilgrims and some
old pilgrims who may not have heard
those stories. One story was on obedience. It was a tale that Bhauji had shared
when he was the night watchman standing outside Baba’s room. The story itself
had been bland. But its pithy meaning
was not missed. I retold the story.
Baba was in His room where he was
working in strict silence. Bhauji had
replaced Gustadji as the night watchman on duty. He came to meet Baba in
the evening to say that he was on duty
outside and would enter whenever Baba
clapped. Baba asked him to get a cup
of tea and switch on the light. Bhauji
started to walk out, switched on the
light, got the tea, and gave Baba the cup
of tea. Baba was angry. He said the order
was not followed properly. Bhauji asked
for an explanation so that he would not
make the same mistake. The key to following orders was to listen and execute,
as it was spoken. Baba explained that He
wanted a cup of tea and then the lights
should be switched on. So why did Bhau
switch on the light first and then bring
the tea?
After apologies, Bhau walked out.
The next evening the night watchman
returned on duty. Baba clapped and
asked again for a cup of tea at sundown
and ordered him to switch on the light.
Bhau did exactly that. But once again
was reprimanded. He wondered where
he went wrong this time. Baba explained
just obeying orders is not sufficient. An
intelligent person is able to understand
the order and execute it. Today the light
went out quickly, hence switching on
the light first was more important than
bringing the cup of tea in the dark and
spilling it. Had the night watchman learnt
his lesson? Apparently he had. Obedience does not stem out of just following
orders blindly. They need to be understood. And as an addition to this tale in
the dark, Baba gave two cotton buds to
Bhau that he mistook for chocolate and
popped them in his mouth!
The story made Bhauji smile. But the
pilgrims were restless and I switched on
to another story in which I asked Bhauji
to explain about the three quarters
of the world’s destruction. It was an
interview we had done for Love Street
Lamp Post a few years ago. Why was
this story being retold? Simply because
it was predicted that on December 21st
2012 the world would end as per the
Mayan prophecy and yet we were still
alive waiting to celebrate the new year in
a few hours. Bhauji remembered that as
well. He asked me to continue. This was
one story I had to cross check while narrating as I had forgotten it in parts. But
luckily Bhauji was there to prompt me.
Baba was in Seclusion in the Angarishi
cave in Madhya Pradesh. The year was
1945. He had asked His brother Jal to
find a peaceful place where He could
do Infinite work. Jal being the forest
officer in the area had found this cave
in the deep, dense, hilly region. There
was no motorable road. But he ensured
a little way was made so that a bullock
cart would be able to pass. It was used
to ferry milk or weak tea to Baba as He
was also observing a fast. After two
months of intense work Baba came
out exhausted and looking frail. And on
coming out the first words He uttered
were, “Three quarters of the world will
be destroyed." Adi K Irani asked if the
Samadhi would be left intact and would
pilgrims be able to visit. Baba gestured
that there will be so much water that
one would have to row a boat across it
to reach the Samadhi!
Bhauji looked around the room at the
faces that listened to this story. I turned
around to ask him, “How will three quarters of the world be destroyed? Will it
be earthquake, famine, floods or something else?” And I especially wanted to
know the fate of the remaining quarter
people who would survive. What would
their future be? Bhauji was ready with
his answers. He said most people will
perish and the world would break down
in parts. It would not happen in one
go. Why? Because when Mehera got
to know of this three quarters destruction she implored Baba, “Why take all
creation in one sweep? Let it happen in
parts.” Baba could not refuse her. He
said “So be it.” And thus the world today
feels tremors, tsunamis and quakes and
seismic activity. People die in terrorist
attacks, famines, floods and accidents.
And then suddenly Bhauji brightened
up and said, “You and I will be a part of
the quarter of humanity and will survive
the destruction that Baba ordained. The
rest will hold on to His damaan fast and
tightly.” Would Baba let me hold His
arm instead, like he did for Bhauji and
Eruch in Guruprasad? Bhauji said yes, and
almost everyone else wished to know in
which group he or she would be: in the
three quarters or the one quarter. And
so ended a great Bhau chat that sunny
morning amid bhajans and songs.
The era of direct story telling is now
over in Meherbad. With Bhauji gone,
the stories will still be told. Some will
become history. Some will become
mythical and some will attain legendary proportions, because he won’t be
around to correct them. Just like this
night watchman who walked the Earth
with His Beloved, we shall remember the
stories while having chai and popcorn in
complete Silence.
I Remember Bhau – A Love Story
Lynne Douglas, Hawaii
I
remember my first meeting with Bhau
because it was a surprise. I didn’t
really know who he was. I had flown
over to the mainland from my home
in Hawaii and been invited to a Friday
night Sufi class. This was spring time in
1992, I think. Bhau took the stage and
talked and talked. He seemed to be on
a particular mission to persuade people
that Baba was who He said He was. In
my searching, I had done a stint with
born-again Christianity, and it reminded
me of “The Call” at the end of the
sermon where you come forward if you
want to accept Jesus. It was making me
mildly uncomfortable; besides, I didn’t
need persuading at that point. After
the talk, it was announced that Bhau
would embrace everyone. I wasn’t sure
if I should stay for that. I wasn’t then
familiar with Bhau’s genuine desire to
do that many hugs and I didn’t want to
add to his burden. But I did join the line. I
wasn’t anticipating anything other than
a formal hug. I got my hug and went
home and cried for three days. I decided
this might mean something.
I remember the next time I
encountered Bhau. I had arrived in India
at Christmas time, 1992, for my first
ever visit and taken the train to Poona.
There I was met by the driver of the
Hoopoe, a small van sent by the Trust.
He announced that we were taking a
small detour to pick up Bhau from Imlak
Hospital as he was being released to go
home. I learned that this was following
his first cancer operation. I sat beside
Bhau as he told stories all the way to the
Trust Office. I remembered crying those
three days. Now I was riding beside this
man and I knew who he was. I felt awed.
By the time of my next encounter,
I was enough of a Bhau groupie to
be very excited. Bhau was coming to
Hawaii for the first time. He was going
to have a sahavas on Kaua’i and give
talks on Oahu. This was in spring of
1993 and it was my first experience of
sahavas. We had planned to camp, but
it was raining big time so the whole
event was confined to a small house. We
were a very small group anyway and it
all seemed very cozy. We learned about
reading Bhauji ghazles to start each
set of talks and we all wanted to read
one. For the second part of this visit,
Bhau gave a talk to the general public
arranged for him in Honolulu at the
studio of LA Image – a beauty business
owned by Stan Alapa’s daughters. Part
of their work was to promote and assist
major beauty pageants in Hawaii, and so
Bhau sat in his chair surrounded by large
professional portraits of past beauty
queens. I saw a lot of Baba humor in that
Amazingly, at this time, I had planned
a summer trip to India only 6 months
after my first. I had not shared this
information with Bhau, so I was totally
surprised when, on Kaua’i, Bhau asked
to speak to me privately. He told me
that my daughter, Rebeka, and I would
be joining him in Singapore and traveling
onward to Ahmednagar together, and
that’s what happened. We joined Bhau
and his guests at the Singapore airport.
Those traveling with Bhau included
Freeman and Ward coming as Bhau’s
new team. I especially remember our
landing at the Mumbai airport (still
Bombay at that time.) I was sitting
next to Bhau and we were coming in
through a pretty big storm and people
were a bit nervous. Every once in a while
I would take a look at Bhau trying to
read his mood as we all tossed about.
He was sitting very still and seemed
very, very focused. Suddenly we hit the
tarmac with great force, causing the
whole plane to shudder. Again I looked
at Bhau. He let out a sigh and I had this
feeling that he’d had something to do
with the successful outcome.
Later, we waited through the night
hours in the lobby of the Hotel Leela,
and joined Bhau in his exercise routine.
After his heart attack, he was very
serious about this and we all had fun
with it. We then rode the train to Poona
in the rain and Bhau told me that tigers
still roamed the canyons of the Ghats.
I would hang out of the door between
train cars getting wet and hoping to see
one. In Poona, Bhau took us to Baba’s
house and Perin, Baba’s sister-in-law
living there, took out a bevy of tiny
bottles and blessed each of us putting
the ointments on our foreheads. While
in Poona we also shopped for shirts for
Bhau and dresses for his three women:
His wife, Rama, his daughter, Sheila, and
his daughter-in-law, Raj. I remember
how this took us from shop to shop
because he had to buy three of the exact
same thing and it needed to be available
in the required sizes. When I asked why,
29
Bhau indicated it was to keep the peace.
Later on that trip, Bhau took us to visit
with Mohamad the Mast a couple of
times. He would joke with him and then
ask Mohamad to give us a blessing and
a special Baba prayer. Mohamed would
lay his hand on each head and whack
some of us pretty hard. I felt the figure
of his hand-print on my head for days.
This happened on a later trip too.
I remember flying to California for
the first sahavas at Meherana and
attending every spring sahavas with
Bhau thereafter. I remember especially
the year Bhau was to dedicate the
bridge (which had some long handle of
a name I no longer remember) and the
huge rattle snake that showed up to the
opening ceremony. He was summarily
killed, and displayed hanging over the
shovel handle of his demise. We all felt
some special Baba message from this
event.
I remember the pleasures of being
with Bhau on my many visits to India
in the summers and winters that
followed (so far, 18 trips). I especially
remember the years 2001 and 2002
when I got to help out in the office –
one of two, then three, then a whole
host of “mummies” initiated at that
time. I remember the first system we
created to try to keep up with Bhau
as he dictated emails, his Awakenings,
and took care of various Trust matters.
Even when he was interrupted for long
period of time, he always knew just
where to take up the dictation where
he had left off before. The life of the
office was amazing. It didn’t matter
what was happening, private meetings
with people, visitors, messengers for
work, mail arriving, forms to sign, folks
getting balled out, spiritual meetings
with workers, etc., Bhau had you stay
through it all. You learned how to be a
fly on the wall – unless he decided to get
you involved too! My respect for Bhau’s
judgement grew and grew as I observed
these events and realized how each
move he made had a point and purpose
that I was often able to see play out.
Over the years, I remember the walks,
hand in hand, up and down the alley in
front of Bhau’s room—to keep up his
exercise—and spending time at the
family compartment in the compound
where his wife, son and daughter-in-law
raised their children at that time. We
would watch Bhau’s favorite Z channel
30
and the Mother-in-Law series that had
him roaring with laughter. Sometimes
we would get served tea. Occasionally
there were parties, birthdays, etc. I
remember going along with Bhau as he
gave various talks in various locations
and getting so familiar with stories that
we would also attend his talks in Hindi.
Knowing his facial expressions and
gestures, we could stil laugh in all the
right places. Indian pilgrims afterwards
would ask us, “Oh, so you know Hindi?”
I remember when we would go to
Meherazad in the off hours and Bhau
would hang out at the Blue Bus. This was
Bhau at his most relaxed and he would
trade banter with Eruch and Meherwan,
the Steves, Gary and others, and laugh
Painting by Lynne Douglas.
and laugh. I remember the times when
Bhau would really catch a laugh that he
couldn’t stop. It would totally consume
him and all around would just love him
so much. I remember crowding into his
office on evenings when he did his chats
and how I loved to watch his face. Over
the years I took hundreds of close-ups
of Bhau’s face wanting to catch every
note and nuance. His face was always
so beautiful to me. He must have grown
tired always having my camera aimed at
him, but he never said a word. I think he
tolerated where I was coming from.
I remember an early year in the
‘90s during a summer Sunday morning
program at Meherazad. I had finished
reading some poems that had come to
me that Thanksgiving in a moment of
inspiration. I was privately calling these,
for myself only, Ghazals. I backed out
of the room through the front double
doors and found Bhau standing there.
“Oh!,” he said, “Ghazals!”
I remember when Bhau finally settled
on a name for me: Queen of Hawaii. It
had been other things prior. I knew this
was Bhau’s way to remember who you
were. It made me happy.
I remember the hospital stays. First,
the trips into Poona’s Imlak for his
cancer. Visitors took the occasion of
traveling to and through Poona to visit
Bhau in his hospital room. He had a lot of
freedom at that time and would like to
take walks in the park grounds of the
Osho ashram. We would take turns
walking with him hand in hand as he
would tell stories of Rajneesh and the
heavy karmic burden he had garnered.
I remember the time in 2002 when the
Sufis came and Bhau was having a lot
of trouble with bowel obstructions.
One night, we waited through the
hours as his doctors considered
whether we should get him to Jahangir
hospital in Poona or not. That morning
it was decided and we rode in the back
of the ambulance with him. He would
be in the hospital for several weeks
and, as I was responsible for the new
laptop that had been gifted to him
for taking dictation, I took a room in a
near-by hotel. Away from Meherabad,
Bhau was sorry to be missing the Sufi
visit and various communications went
back and forth. When the play God
Speaks: The Musical was to take place,
he suggested I go and see the play so
I could tell him about it. This happened
in the same week that Aloba was
recovering from hip surgery in another
hospital and the two of them would
talk on the phone, especially about
who was eating what. Shortly after I
returned from the play, Aloba suddenly
took a turn for the worse and died. Bhau
directed two of us to take a rickshaw to
Aloba’s hospital and be present there in
his stead. Unfortunately, a last minute
distraction resulted in my leaving first
in a separate rickshaw in order to make
it on time. Aloha’s body had not yet
been released and I joined several of his
Persian followers, who had been there
to visit him, to wait in his room. After
his body had been placed in a separate
room, amazingly, I joined the others for
the Persian Arti, helped wrap him in his
shroud and watched as his body was
loaded into an ambulance for the final
ride to Meherabad. Another trip it was
back to Jahangir again for intractable
sciatica and a tricky series of shots. I
remember helping to massage Bhau’s
tingly feet. He was attracting some new
groupies from the hospital staff! One
set of young doctors were so enamored
they even traveled to Meherabad at a
later date and Bhauji entertained them
in his room at the Trust Compound.
Even though I wasn’t there, I
remember Bhau’s second visit to Hawaii
in 1999. Just the year before I had
relocated to Walnut Creek and finally
had a full time job. I was devastated to
know that I wouldn’t be able to join him
for this trip, but I was adamant that Bhau
get to Moloka’i to dedicate the newly
developing center there. Ultimately,
via Mother B and Stan Alapa’s planning,
this did happen. On Oahu, Bhau gave
talks at the Moana Hotel (where Baba
stayed in 1932) and at the University
of Hawaii East-West Center. There,
Stan arranged a special Lua ceremony
(the native Hawaii form of martial
arts) for Bhau, and he was presented
with his own Lua stick, making him an
honorary Lua Master. Then, Bhau and
about 10 others took a small plane to
Molokai’ where Bhau dedicated the
center naming it Meherdham Hawaii.
He bowed down to Baba’s chair and
all the other Baba treasures given to
Stan at the 1969 Darshan, each lovingly
laid out on Shirley’s big bed for him.
Then he walked outside and circled the
cottage three times, all following him.
Fortunately, Kau’i, Stan’s daughter
was videotaping the whole trip and a
wonderful video tape was produced of
this visit. Hopefully, sometime it will be
more widely available for all.
I remember Bhau’s stays in the Bay
Area and helping out at the various
homes where he stayed with his food and
events. I remember times at the Talbots
arriving early for breakfast, emails and
later chats. I remember gatherings
at the Lowe’s and Bhau asking my
daughter Sara to read a guzzle. Sara is
dyslexic and not comfortable reading
out loud. But she looked through the
book for the shortest guzzle she could
find and read it for him. I remember the
years of the children’s parties arranged
in our then Tice Valley House backyard
with the gaily decorated gazebo and
children showing off their talents for
Bhau - and Bhau meeting with Farhad’s
youth group in our big living room. I
remember all the meals we had for
him in that house at our long, glass
dining table, and all the special guests.
I remember the few times I got to drive
Bhau to another home and event in my
shabby, old car. I remember traveling
to the Oregon sahavas and Myrtle
Beach trying to get all the time with
him I could. And I especially remember
the special three days that Bhau stayed
with us at the Tice Valley House in 2005.
This was Mother B’s dream come true, a
wish she’d had ever since she had once
owned the house herself. We arranged
for him to stay in Nancy’s room and his
team in the small living room adjacent to
it. Dorothy (Creamy Mummy) brought
over her lounge chair for him. Mornings
were especially fun in that room with
emails, foot message and Trust work
I remember flying to Australia in
2008 as Bhau had announced that this
would be his last trip there. He was
traveling the whole continent and
would arrive at Avatar’s Abode for the
50th year anniversary celebrations. Jetin,
his youngest grandson, in Australia to
check out colleges, was with him in
the Brisbane area and some of us took
him for a first try at surfing. I was also
eager to accompany him on some of the
scariest rides at the amusement parks
we visited. Bhau was beginning his last
long journey with illness and wasn’t
planning to come to the west anymore.
I remember being preoccupied with
thinking that this might be my last time
with him ever and feeling very sad. At
the airport when it came time to see
him off to India, I was glad to have
been given his chair pillows to carry and
I was hugging them to me for comfort.
Some people were playing games with
Bhau in his wheel chair and racing
him up and down the hallways—but
I was feeling very solemn. Later Bhau
arranged for us to meet together in the
airport’s prayer room and he seemed
to me heartbreakingly beautiful then.
Afterwards, we waited a long time at
the gate; waited a long time to say what
felt like my last goodbye. I could hardly
talk and had not been very successful in
holding back tears. At one point when
I seemed to have Bhau’s full attention,
I told him I loved him. He looked at me
and said in a serious, but loving voice,
“I know.”
That didn’t turn out to be the last
time I was with Bhau. As it happened,
there were several more years with him,
but for me, that moment did turn out
to be the ultimate closure for me. I felt
accepted. I felt whatever this relationship
had been about, it was complete. All had
been said that needed to be said and
all had been exchanged that needed
to be done. Although my succeeding
times with him were delightful: donkeywalla times transporting special Bhau
items to India - a mattress in a gigantic
suitcase that Mother B wanted him
to have, accessories for his new
wheelchair, unimaginable amounts of
pharmaceuticals that overflowed the
luggage of others, making special cards
for him that Mother B carried for me
time after time, making a painting for
his giant birthday card that Queen of
Australia was creating, etc., everything
afterward just felt like icing on the cake.
The last time I saw Bhau I knew it was
the last time. I’d seen Bhau on the Sufi
trip in 2011 and now it was the wonderful
East-West gathering of November, 2012.
Bhau was still encouraging people
to wear three rings on one hand to
represent a phase he was in at the time.
I had with me the three rings from last
time and the new ones I had made on
this trip, so I was wearing three on each
hand. After this last program with him
was over, many people were trying to
get a personal goodbye and I lingered
with them. When I finally had a moment
and Creator/Mother/Janice, announced
‘and here’s Queen of Hawaii’, I didn’t
really feel I had Bhau’s attention. I knew
is some way I was on my own. I kissed his
hands because I loved him and wanted
this last moment of intimacy, but I don’t
really think he remarked my leaving. I
was OK with that.
I’ll always be grateful to Bhau for
his care and company and for his
love. I’ll always be grateful to Baba
for introducing such an extraordinary
person into my life. I’ll always be grateful
for the memories. And I’ll always love
Bhau.
Lynne Douglas, Queen of Hawaii,
November 14, 2013
31
Bhau and the Real Dying
By Ellis Pines
I
n winter 1974, I spent
six weeks in India. I had
just gone through a difficult time in almost every
aspect of my life. Yet our
Meher Players theatrical troupe had formed in
Chicago, and I had written The Queen, which
we staged for Amartithi
and which Murshida Duce
would put on the following year. In the midst of these
endings and beginnings,
I headed to Ahmednagar.
Victor had instructed me
that Bhau (whom I didn’t
know) was interested in
reading The Queen, the
story of January 31, 1969 as
viewed from the castle of Queen Maya.
Bhau liked the play, asking that I add
two characters, who bow in gratitude
before the Queen’s throne: Work (the
gathering of the world’s sanskaric debris) and Word (who torches the trash,
unleashing the Manifestation).
A short time later, David John Berndt
and I wrote a play for Meher Baba’s
birthday, Dreams of Compassion, which
was performed at Meherazad. The play
featured two angels, discussing the pros
and cons of incarnating. One becomes
the angel that tells Sheriar drifting to
sleep after his failure to realize God
through austerity that he will receive this
gift from his son. The other becomes the
deva who rises up from the house well
in Shireenmai’s dream and beckons for
her to give her the child Merwan.
As the show ended, Mehera and Mani
seemed pleased. It fulfilled a dream I
myself had had since going to Darshan in
1969: To entertain Baba and his Mandali.
As I was basking in the glory of this
theatrical success, Bhau, standing in the
doorway of his room, beckoned me. I
prepared to receive his congratulations.
Instead, he asked me if I really wanted to know about angels. Fortunately, as
much as I liked our imaginative versions,
I answered affirmatively. Thus began
a friendship which led to him making
available to me the treasure of his writings (in raw form). Shortly thereafter
32
he suggested I read his manuscript of
the New Life with the direction to write
a play about it. So every chance I got, I
would go to Meherazad with a notebook
and ballpoint pen, sitting at Bhau’s desk
and copying what I could of the Greatest
Story that Had Yet to Be Told.
Then one day, as Aloba was summoning us to gather our belongings and head
for the bus, a crisis occurred. I couldn’t
find the little pen. Frantically I ran
around the Meherazad porch until Bhau,
seeing my distress, again beckoned me
to the doorway of his room.
“What is the matter, brother Ellis?”
he said.
“I can’t find the pen, the one I take
the notes with,” I replied.
Bhau immediately reached to the
collar of his t-shirt and removed his
fountain pen.
“Here,” he said, “this pen is now
yours.”
The most meager of pens had now
been sacrificed to be replaced by a
treasure: a Parker 51, used by Beloved
Avatar Meher Baba some twelve times
to write his signature. When Baba made
Bhau a writer, he gave him this Pen as a
tool of his new craft. From it came the
works we know as the Bhau Canon. Then
when Bhau came to the end of writing
Lord Meher, fulfilling the command of
the Master to write 100 pages about
Baba’s Manifestation, the Pen broke.
Thereafter it had to be
held together to write.
The fountain Pen was
just the beginning of the
fount of generosity Bhau
showed me. When I was
ill one day, he sent a note
to Pendubhai to open his
room that I might sleep
in his bed. When I missed
tea, he gave me his tea.
And always he was there
to tell me stories and give
explanations.
On one such afternoon
at Meherazad, I was sitting at his desk, and he
was sitting on top of it: the
way he would usually talk
with me. He was as usual
full of encouragement for
me, saying I was too “innocent” and
should become more “mis-cheev-eeeous” (like the Chicken), saying I was
greedy (to have his yet-unpublished
books), but that “this greed is good." There in the midst of this fun and
excitement, he said, “For us, Brother
Ellis, there is only to die.” I didn’t know
how to react as he looked me in the eyes.
Was it that Baba’s physical death
meant he had nothing to live for? (And
saying that to someone in my fragile
condition, really, Mr. Kalchuri?)
Of course, I had no idea what he
meant at all, didn’t want to think about it
and could only chalk it up to a metaphor
in mystical poetry, referring to inner
death. Only later could I learn that one
cannot be glib about “inner death” and
that it is certainly no metaphor.
Long before the years of Bhau’s painful waiting for his physical departure, he
had become adept at the process of real
dying through loving his Master. Baba
put the stamp of his Divine Signature
on this process. In a ghazal Baba himself
wrote for Bhau, writing, in fact, as if he
were Bhau, the Avatar said:
“Die such a death which makes you
live after dying – Die to yourself and live
only for others.”
Bhauji and the California Wildfires of June 2008
Denagh Patrick, Walnut Creek, CA
B
hau would make almost yearly visits—
as long as his health permitted—to
Meherana, a lovely spiritual retreat
dedicated to Meher Baba near Mariposa
California. In 2008 before he left India, he
wrote asking me if I would be his Walking
Stick during his daily walks while he was
in Meherana. Of course I was happy to
say yes.
The year before he had stayed at the
Tice Valley House in Walnut Creek where
I was living. I got sick and so stayed in my
room. We didn’t dare tell him, because we
knew he would ask me to come to him and
then he could get sick, so we all agreed to
tell him nothing.
As soon as I got well I had to relieve my
sister and take care of our ill mother, so I
didn’t get to spend any time with Bhau
until his last day while he was replying to
his e-mails. After he left, I was told that
he thought I didn’t love him anymore. I
felt terrible and wrote him a long letter
explaining what happened. That is when
he asked if I could come to Meherana and
be his “Walking Stick."
Bhaui would be staying at Meherana and I got a reservation at a motel
in Mariposa close by. They were having
a large, fast burning wildfire
in the area, but I was assured
that Meherana and Mariposa
were fine and Bhauji was still
coming. As I drove closer to
Mariposa there were many
fire trucks on the road and I
passed a few burned fields.
Flames could be seen in the
distance hills. After checking into the Motel, which
was being used as fire fighting headquarters, filled with
trucks and equipment, I went
to Meherana where the air
was smoke free, so Bhau was
going on his daily walks.
The fire moved closer to
my motel, you could see the
flames in the distant hills and
I was thankful that there were
all those fire fighters there and
that the parking lot was filled
with their fire trucks and other
vehicles. They told me that
they took turns staying awake
to make sure we all safe. There must have
been close to 100 men there. I went back to the motel daily after
Bhauji went down for his afternoon nap,
to check on the fire’s current path and eat
lunch. Since I was one of the few non-fire
fighting personal there, the firemen would
talk to me about their families and where
they were working that day. The whole
resturant smelled of smoke from their
clothes. One of my many fond memories of
being with Bhauji at this time was my
watching Indian soap operas with him. His
focus on them was amazing. The only time
he seemed to know I was there is when I
would laugh at something. Then he would
turn and smile. There was no talking or
comments when Bhauji was watching
his programs. He loved them and I got
hooked!
Leaving my motel room on the third
day to drive to Meherana, the sky was as
black as night and smoke was up to my
knees in the parking lot. The fire was now
across the street with huge flames shooting up! Fire fighters were everywhere and
they advised me to pack my bags and take
them with me in case I couldn’t return.
Driving from Mariposa to Meherana I
was very concerned about Bhauji and the
air quality at Meherana. But the closer I
got to Meherana the lighter the sky was
and when I arrived, I couldn’t believe my
eyes, Meherana was sunny and completely
smoke free! So Bhau took his morning
walk as usual, I was able to return to my
motel, and Meherana continued to sparkle
with light and fresh air.
Once again I was reminded of how
Baba takes care of His own. He certainly
took good care of his Beloved John!
We love and miss you Bhauji!
The Lion’s Roar
Jerry Carlin, California
Oh Bhau, they call you a toothless lion,
old and feeble,
but today I heard your heart roar
and know they lie.
You greeted us with soft, gentle hands
and mild manner
but I felt your claws
shredding my desires.
My wounds remembered your baptism
in His presence
and the love carried by indifference.
Oh Mischa, you asked us to send loving
thoughts to Bhau.
But when our rosy cloud reached him,
his answer was blazing sunlight.
Oh Companions,
we drank and drank God’s name
which could not satisfy
our ocean’s thirst
but we enjoyed His drinking game.
Oh Meher, today you wore a Bhau coat.
It fits you so well, having been
tailored by you
with subtle scissors and
careful stitching.
Oh Jerry, cherish this memory
and remember:
If you ever have the great
good fortune
to be given a banana by
the Beloved,
eat it at once.
33
THE LION
My Loving Time With Bhau
W
hen I was asked to write a piece for
the memorial about Bhauji, I felt really reluctant—how can I do justice to him,
a Mandali member, someone (to me) far
removed from my limited consciousness,
someone chosen by Baba to be His Disciple, Companion, and to become Chairman
of the Trust? How is it possible to evaluate
Bhauji? I can only write what he meant to
me. It was such a privilege to be able to
spend so much time in his company—he
was a delightful companion, we had fun
and I always felt that we were friends. Not
that I didn’t have the greatest respect for
him—for me it was the closest thing to
being with Meher Baba.
When I went to spend five weeks at
Meherabad in 2001, he was the reason that
I stayed for five months – I just could not
leave him. I loved him. I was passionate
about him, and when he asked me to do
something, I obeyed. One of the first things
he asked me to do was to go to the house
of a long time Baba Lover, a person who
had met Baba and travelled around India
giving talks on Him. I was to tell this Baba
Lover and his companions to stop printing up Lord Meher! Can you imagine their
astonishment when this Western woman
arrives at the door of their house, introduces herself, and says, “Bhau has asked
me to tell you, to please stop printing and
photocopying Lord Meher.” They looked
at me in astonishment, astounded at the
cheek of this Western woman, whom
they had never met before, suggesting
such a thing!
So it went on. The next time, Bhauji said
that he had heard that people were selling
things up at the Samadhi and I was to go
and tell these people that it must stop.
So off I went to tell them! Once when he
heard that I was visiting Delhi, He asked
me to take some Trust documents to the
Minister of the Interior. I had never been
inside the Raj Bhavan, let alone knew any
ministers, yet somehow Baba turned a
key, and I marched in past all the guards
and soldiers’ guns as if I owned the place
and went straight into the Minister’s office!
When I first went as a part-time resident
I asked Bhauji, "What work should I do
whilst living at Meherabad?" He said, “You
will know.” Well, I did. There was hardly
a day when I didn’t see Bhauji, spending
as much time as possible with him. There
Sue Biddu
were very few Westerners at the Trust Office in
those days, and we had
complete access to him.
His office was a constant
stream of people, problems and love. Sitting
right in front of him as
he conducted the Trust
work – watching him
in wonder, sorting out
a myriad of problems
with so much patience,
intuition and love. Seeing
his kindness and generosity to those who laid
so much at His feet – seeing the amount
of paperwork, meetings and financial difficulties he had to deal with.
The love and understanding he poured
into the emails he wrote continually to
Baba’s lovers around the world was such
an example. He could never rest until all
his work and emails had been answered.
Duty was everything; duty to Baba and His
Lovers was paramount.
He had a brilliant mind, incredible intuition, and a sweet and loving nature. It was
such a gift to be able to sit there with him
day after day. Being quite useless at the
Internet and office work, I suggested that
Prasava and I become his drivers – driving
him to Meherazad and Meherabad for his
talks at the Pilgrim Centre. Those oh so
fabulous talks, where Bhauji would talk and
talk and talk about his Beloved, giving us
insights into the intimate life of the Avatar,
bringing it all alive for those of us who had
never met Baba.
His memory was phenomenal. Several
times I travelled with Bhauji to different
Centres in India, Europe and America, and
often he would repeat the same stories
over and over again, yet each time it was
so fresh. Often we would try to stop him
when the allotted time was up, but it was
impossible! He was only aware of Baba,
and the joy of talking about Him. It brought
back their time together and possibly for
awhile his great physical suffering may
have been forgotten.
When the talks at the Pilgrim Centre finished, a group of us would walk with him to
Sheela’s house. It was so beautiful to walk
at dusk with him at Lower Meherabad,
and there would often be competition for
whose hand he would choose to hold! You
see, we all loved him so much.
Once Bhauji and I were so engrossed in
our conversation, that we got lost outback,
and it was quite dark when I realised we
were alone and lost, it was like coming
back to earth with a bump, I was just so
happy to be in his company. It took me a
few minutes to get my bearings and find
the path back to Sheela and David’s house,
where everyone was quite anxious as to
where we had gone! We would also laugh
a lot together and he had a fabulous sense
of humour.
Some people didn’t get Bhauji and his
Team and all those mummies and names,
but it didn’t matter to me and still doesn’t.
He allowed us to be our small selves, he allowed us to stay and be with him; he didn’t
need us, he had Baba, we just took the opportunity! How good he was to allow us. So
many came, and he made room for them—
it was their chance, and they took it. Of
course Bhauji was often misunderstood
by Baba lovers and residents—some didn’t
like what he said and did—but mostly he
was loved, respected and trusted. Never
once did I not trust his judgment—even
when I could not understand what he was
up to, or what was happening—but in the
fullness of time he always got it right. He
was Baba’s; it was always for the other
person, for their spiritual growth.
I once asked if I should stay longer and
be there all the time. He looked at me
directly and said, “If you can’t find God in
Biddu [my husband] and your family, you
can’t find Him anywhere." Bhauji gave us all
names—I don’t know why, but he did—it
may have helped him remember us. I was
35
called Universal Queen. Yep, that’s correct,
not once, but thousands of times, and he
would take every opportunity to ask when
we were at Meherabad, or travelling to different Baba Centres around the world, and
especially at Amartithi, “Do you know who
she is?" Most people would not answer,
and he would say, “She’s the Universal
Queen.” Well, can you imagine their reaction!? At first I felt really uncomfortable,
wishing that he would stop, but then I got
used to it. He was extremely talented in giving different names to different
Baba lovers and exceptional at
reminding them of their stories,
making them feel remembered
and special.
Then there was the suffering,
so much of it! Many times he
would spend days and weeks
in hospital, often in Intensive
Care. It was awful, the amount
of health issues that Bhauji had.
Dr. Anne would be called out and
would come willingly at all times
of the day and night. Often when
Bhauji had a blockage it was hard
to find a vein to put a drip into his
poor bruised skin, and she would
say, “Susie, entertain Bhauji.”
I became his clown, so I would
recall lighthearted moments
and incidents that I had heard,
or something funny that we had done
together, or a story of his life with Baba.
Once, when he was in terrible pain, and I
was sitting next to his bed, I looked at him,
his eyes were open and the colour of them
changed completely. I remember going
to visit him in hospital in Pune just after
a major operation—and he was glowing,
shining. Don Stevens was there, also, and
we both remarked about the glow. There
were so many visits to Intensive Care and
always he was calm, accepting and brave.
As the years went by, I noticed that
Bhauji pushed me away a little. This was his
way – he did this with others – for our own
benefit. He was still always loving, sweet,
and available, but it was time for others,
for a new phase. He had a fantastic Team
and lots of new people arrived to care for
him; their intense love and devotion was
incredible. His last Team looked after him
beautifully, as did his family and doctors. He
moved out of his office, and stayed mostly
in his bedroom.
On Sundays he would go back to the
office for the Internet Chat, which he
loved. It gave him so much pleasure to be
36
in contact with Baba lovers worldwide.
In the weekdays each evening, the office
staff and visitors would come into his room
and we would all say the prayers: Baba’s
Prayers, the Prayers of all the different
world religions, everyone was welcome. In
the daytime, when visitors came, he would
suddenly look at someone and spontaneously ask them to sing. He kept up his correspondence, spent more time with Rama
at night saying the Prayers. He talked less
but smiled more; he gave out sweets to all
who visited, saying, "JAI HO! "
One of the last times I was with Bhauji
was his birthday party in January; for many
years I had organised or hosted his birthday
celebrations in the early days at the Pilgrim
Centre and then in the theatre. This year it
was at the Trust compound, and Katie Pye
had organised a fantastic event—the compound was decorated with huge pictures
of Baba and masses of lights. A pandal had
been erected and Raj supplied wonderful
food. I arrived late – in fact almost halfway
through the program – and there were
hundreds there already, so I slipped into
the back of the crowd. Instantly he spotted me and indicated I was to come and
sit next to him. Later I was the host and
anchor for his live website chat to various
people across the world. A large screen
had been put up and he was able to see
and talk to his dear ones. It was wonderful. What an achievement of technology!
Bhauji enjoyed it so much. It was a lovely,
lovely birthday party.
On October 24th, the morning after
Bhauji had passed away, I was talking to
Elizabeth Hearn, and looked out of my win-
dow towards the sky—it was stunningly
blue—a bright, sunny Autumn day. As I
looked up, I saw the moon in front of me,
high in the sky. I thought, “That’s odd…
the moon is out and its mid-morning.” I
put on my coat and went over to Hyde
Park [in London] and sat at the serpentine river, looking at the swans and ducks
gliding across the water. Ahead of me the
moon was in the sky and behind me the
sun was shining brightly. I had never seen
a more beautiful day in London; everything sparkled. The trees in their
Autumn shades of colour and
glory looked so alive. I watched
the moon for almost an hour. As
midday approached it slowly disappeared. I felt Baba and Bhauji.
I thought of all those journeys
and visits that Bhauji had made
around the world. All the people
who had felt Baba’s love through
him, and I thanked Baba for His
remarkable Bhau (Brother). On
the Wall of Love at the MPR
[Meher Pilgrim Retreat], there
are four white tiles hand painted
by Bhauji. He wrote: “Baba, keep
my head bowed at Your feet
forever.” He was Baba’s, and
we had the Grace to witness it.
Thank you for everything.
Bhauji Called Me
His Little Mummy
Bhauji called me his Little Mummy.
He has an eye and always saw me.
When I entered his room
he asked me to sing,
I told him that I’m out of tune, but I
can say the Belov ed prayer for him.
He made me dance for hiim,
with Tony Gris.
We danced Daché daynan.
Sometimes, I was mischievous with him,
and I avoided his watching eyes,
but I couldn’t.
We were joking with each other. That’s how I remember him.
It is a wonderful memory.
Much Love from Laura Lai, Paris
THE LAMB
Bhau and Danny
Lynn Maguire, Los Angeles
I
t is said the Lord moves in mysterious ways. I would say ‘beautiful
ways’ as well.
Meher Baba brought our son Danny
and Bhau together in 1985. Danny was
only six weeks old, and it was Bhau’s
first visit to the LA Sahavas. The love
started right then and there. “Saint
Danny” Bhau said of him as he held
our little baby.
The summers would come, bringing
Bhau back year after year. Our bond
with him grew stronger. Bhauji would
always ask Danny to say the Beloved’s
Prayer before meals and meetings,
and always as he departed our home.
When we called Bhau in India, he
would ask for Danny to say the prayer
with him.
As I observed over the years, Danny
and Bhauji’s relationship was always
natural and loving. Bhauji’s last visit
Bhau & Danny, India 1993
with Danny was in 2007, about two
years after his [Danny’s] accident. It
would be the last time Bhau and 22
year old Danny would meet physically.
The atmosphere was so sweet and
loving. Beloved Baba’s presence was
very clear.
Bhauji came again in 2008, two
months after Danny passed. He told
me one morning he saw his “Saint
Danny” standing next to his bed (Bhau
slept in Danny’s hospital bed in our
front room that year). It seemed so
natural, and I remember asking him,
more than once, to describe exactly
what Danny looked like so I could hold
that image close.
Bhau was our favorite uncle, our
dear friend. I’m certain that he and
Danny are now in Paradise in Beloved
Baba’s embrace.
Bhauji Got It!
Jeff Maguire, Los Angeles
O
kay, here’s one of my favorite Baba
quotes:
“Life is a mighty joke. He who knows
this can hardly be understood by others.
He who does not know it finds himself
in a state of delusion. He may ponder
over this problem day and night but
will find himself incapable of knowing
it. Why? Because people take life seriously, and God lightly; whereas we must
take God seriously and life lightly. Then
we know that we always were the same
and will ever remain the same as the
Originator of this Joke. This Knowledge
is not achieved by reasoning, but it is
the Knowledge of Experience.”
Bhau, or “Mamu” as I called him*,
got the joke – he loved to laugh and to
see others laughing, even at his own
expense. Especially at his own expense!
I introduced him at dozens of his talks
and I often got irreverent, and a few
people took me to task for it, suggest-
ing I’d crossed the line and was being
disrespectful to a Mandali member...
but what they didn’t know is that Bhau
always encouraged me to go further:
“Make it spicy!” he would say, or “Make
it extra spicy tonight,” especially when
he thought there were people in attendance who perceived him to be an
advanced soul. He always maintained
he was just a “potato” like all the rest of
us. I didn’t believe it for a moment, but I
loved him for insisting on it.
[* “Mamu” literally means “uncle,"
but one summer we watched a Bollywood comedy in which gangsters used
it as the equivalent of “dude," so I’d
always greet Bhauji with “Hey Mamu!”]
So I’d publicly tease him about having low self-esteem, citing as proof the
ghazals he penned that featured final
lines like “Oh Bhau, you ignorant fool!”
Or I’d poke fun at the fact that couples
asked him for marital advice when,
for nearly all the years of own lengthy
married life, he and his wife never slept
under the same roof! Or I’d point out
that people were asking for career guidance from a man who’d never once held
a paying job!
The spicier the better, as far as Bhau
was concerned. Of course, in later years,
it was difficult to see my Mamu in poor
health, suffering more than most of us
knew. I still saw glints of the old humor,
but he was in another place toward the
end, which I believed to be the intimate
company of Baba. It was similar to the
state our son Danny was in after he suffered a traumatic brain injury that left
him unable to speak or move willfully,
and yet, using an alphabet board, he
indicated to us that he was constantly
in Baba’s physical presence.
In the last years of Bhau’s life, some
people didn’t understand his ways, but
I’d always point out how Baba had once
said, and I’m paraphrasing, “Say whatever you want about Me, but never criticize My Mandali.” And I remember a story that
illustrated that point: at one time, while doing night watch, Hindi correspondence, and other duties, Bhau wasn’t finding the
time to eat, until Baba finally told him to sit in the hall in front of everyone and eat and eat and eat. Well, when a group of
people came to take Baba’s darshan, Baba pointed to Bhau and said to them (again, I’m paraphrasing), “Look at this man!
He goes on eating and eating, right here in front of everyone! Has he no shame?” And the guests agreed that yes, Bhau was
indeed very rude. And yet, it was Baba’s order that he eat, and so Bhau continued to feed his face, regardless of the withering
criticism. From the moment he laid eyes on Baba, in 1952, until his physical death, Bhau didn’t care what others thought of
him—his only concern was to please his Beloved.
I miss him a lot. There aren’t that many people who get the mighty joke. I often fail to get it, finding myself, in Baba’s words,
“taking life seriously and God lightly.” It was always great to have Bhau come to town each summer to explain the joke to us
and set us laughing again.
Another favorite Baba quote:
“So it is literally true that each and every thing, small or great, that happens in the universe, happens only according to
the will of the Almighty.”
Meher Baba, p. 68 of God Speaks. © AMBPPCT
Bhau’s Rapsody
Written and produced by Danny Maguire,
performed by Bhau Kalchuri at the L.A. Sahavas in 2004
Listen up! Kalchuri on the mic now, keeping it underground
This one goes out to my homies back in ‘Nagar
And especially, the Man Himself: Meher Baba
Yucaipa What!?
I’m no saint, and I’m no mast, just the chairman of the Trust
I can rap, and I can squawk, but I prefer to Talk and Talk
I talk and talk and talk and talk, and talk and talk and talk it,
I talk and talk and talk and talk, and talk and talk and talk it,
I talk and talk and talk and talk, and talk and talk and talk it,
Illin’ it...Chillin’ it...Feeling it...Dealing it...
Liking it...Longing it...Holding it...Hugging it...
Dirty...stinking...garbage...
Dirty, stinking, garbage...
Dirty, stinking, garbage...
Yucaipa what?!
How Meherana Came About
With Many Thanks to Bhau!
Christine Pearson, Meherana, California
B
hau Kalchuri has always been a
significant force behind Meherana.
Bhau’s first visit to California was in 1985.
Chris and I were living in Los Angeles and
he stayed at our home. The Silence Day
Sahavas at Pilgrim Pines in the mountains outside the city enchanted Bhau,
and he told me then that it reminded
him of being with Beloved Baba during
the Sahavases in India. Sahavas time was
wine shop for the Mandali, a time when
they were able to see their Beloved
magnificently beaming His love to all.
At some of these programs the Mandali
also received Baba’s darshan! Bhau felt
this same atmosphere at the Silence
Day Sahavas.
He returned the next year and again
the Sahavas was a highlight of his trip.
Bhau told me it was best when everyone left the world and spent some
days together in the Beloved’s love. He
mentioned how in between the regular
Sunday meetings in Los Angeles, everyone would have to go to work, drive the
freeways and pay bills! Bhau expressed
the importance of how Baba’s loving
atmosphere was allowed to build at the
Sahavas over the long weekend.
In 1990, on the way home from the
Silence Day Sahavas, Bhau felt inspired
to be with everyone again the very next
weekend. I carefully explained to him the
preparations that were necessary to rent
the Pilgrim Pines Camp and arrange the
programs, but he was not deterred. Bhau
asked me intently, “Isn’t there anywhere
we can all be together again this weekend?” Chris and I thought of our land in
Mariposa. We had started to build a small
home there, but at that time it was a construction site with a temporary kitchen
and hardly any furnishings. Nevertheless,
we made announcements and phone
calls to Baba lovers in California that
Bhau would be available at Mariposa the
next weekend and anyone could come.
A few days later, we threw some food
and supplies in the car and took off with
Bhau for the 300-mile trip north to Mariposa. To say that it was loosely organized
would be quite an understatement. Over
sixty people had arrived by Friday night,
with camping gear, and we woke up
Saturday morning, July 10th, realizing
that it was Silence Day and we hadn’t
arranged any programs or schedules. So
we started writing notes. Bhau was very
amused and enjoyed it immensely. All
the adults were silent and the numerous
small children were having a great time
in a large dirt pile.
We decided to go on a picnic to Yosemite Valley and managed to get lunch
packed up and everyone in cars. Some
people had never been to Yosemite, so
we formed a caravan of about seventeen cars and off we went. Sitting by
the river, we would write notes to Bhau
and he would answer with ghazals. That
evening, back in Mariposa, we watched
Baba videos, then Jeff Maguire spontaneously began to write a word or phrase
and Bhau would show us Baba’s sign for
that word or phrase. At the end of the
weekend, Bhau told us what a wonderful
time he had with us and everyone agreed
that next year we would do it again.
Well, the next year 120 people came;
the following year 180 people came;
and finally, in 1993, 275 people came to
Mariposa with their tents and camping
gear to be with Bhau. It was nicknamed
Bhaustock [after the famous Woodstock
rock concerts in New York in the ‘60s].
Even though we had finished our small
house and had moved to Mariposa by
then, it was difficult to arrange for so
many people. Our place was too small.
We began to have meetings at our house
of fifteen or so people once a month to
discuss starting a permanent center in
Mariposa. Bhau’s encouragement and
vision in the establishment of a center in
Mariposa was invaluable to us.
Bhau was 100% certain that it was
Baba’s will that His lovers have a home
where they could gather together at
anytime and meet in His love. One thing
Bhau told me that has always remained
with me: at times we were not sure how
to proceed and Bhau said, “Just make a
The stage? A canvas tarp on the ground!
BYOC (Bring Your Own Chair)
for the audience...
Just a few of the original “Tent City”
garden for His lovers. When the garden
is there, do the birds have to be invited?
No, you just make the garden and His
birds will come.”
In June 2003, Bhau was with us once
more at Meherana for a Sahavas. I had
some concerns about his health and
whether he should make the long trip
from India. After his last talk for the
weekend, he greeted each one in a loving
embrace. Even though he was not well,
he gave his all. Bhau insisted on never
letting an opportunity pass to share
Baba’s love. The garden was in full bloom
that weekend.
As Meherana grows and develops
into a year-round center it will become
the beautiful garden of Baba’s love that
Bhau envisioned. The atmosphere of
that garden is brought to Meherana by
each heart that comes there to meet in
Beloved Baba’s love. Meherana means
“Meher, come.” His garden invites us
and we invite Him to be with us when we
come there. We are the birds enjoying
the nectar of His presence. Thank you,
dear Bhau, for your loving encouragement over the years in the establishment
of Meherana.
Christine and Dina in the
Traveling Love Street Bookstore
Dina, Bhau and her son Christopher
Dina, Bhau and Sondra Beymer
Three Vignettes with Bhau
Dale Draeger, Oregon
Bhau and Margot
Bhau came often during the 80’s and
90’s to the Northwest United States
to speak to different Baba groups. He
came during the summer of 1990 to
the Oregon Avatar Meher Baba Group.
He first spoke in Portland, Oregon and
then at our Sahavas location that year
at Breitenbush Hot Springs. At that
time I was pregnant with my daughter,
Margot. You could say that he met her
in the womb. In 1992, when Margot was
almost two years old, Bhau came again
to the Northwest. The Seattle Baba
Group had an intimate Sahavas. They
created a wonderful space in a barn
behind someone’s house, setting up
folding chairs in front of a small stage
that they had made and decorated for
the occasion. What I remember most
vividly was an experience after his talk.
My husband, Bart, and I were seated
next to Bhau in the chairs.
With Margot on my lap (her little
legs dangling over my knees), we were
having a happy, comfortable time talking with Bhau. As we chatted, Margot
began kicking her legs at Bhau’s knees.
Somewhat horrified, I moved to contain
her thrashing legs. As I did, Bhau made a
motion with his hand for me let her continue her kicking. As I watched, I realized
that they were making a game together.
Bhau understood that Margot, not able
to talk, wanted to make contact with
Bhau. This was the only way she could
find to do that..by making a game..and
Bhau had intuitively understood that.
They had several delightful minutes
playing footsie and laughing with each
other, establishing a relationship.
Bhau and The Experience with
Baba’s Distorted Face
Bhau was always supportive and
encouraging of my passion to paint and
my life as an artist. When I first began
to paint, my images were those that
meant the most to me - Baba’s Form and
scenes of Meherabad and Meherazad.
When going to Sahavases, I often took
my paintings to show.
At the Los Angeles Sahavas in 2003, Bhau was
the featured guest. I
had brought many paintings that year to show
at the Sahavas. In the
past, I had often showed
him my paintings. This
year, not wanting to disturb his private time,
I brought a painting
from the bookstore
where I had it on display, to hold up as he
was walking to the meeting hall to
speak. This way, I thought, he could
view it as he walked by.
The painting was a large image of
Beloved Baba at Meherabad. It was
one I was particularly happy with. A
crowd of Sahavasees surrounded
Bhau as he walked to the hall. As he
got close, I greeted Bhau and held up
my painting of Baba for him to see.
With my painting held high, his reaction
was a surprise! He glanced at the painting as he was walking and then in one
swift motion, he winced and held up his
hand to block the sight of it! He said an
obligatory, “That’s nice,” and continued
walking to the meeting hall!
I had a fraction of a second of disappointment and then a voice in my head
said, “You can’t know why he reacted
as he did. It has nothing to do with
the painting, so don’t give it another
thought.” I believed the voice. Later
I learned that Bhau was experiencing
an excruciating period of seeing his
Beloved Baba’s image contort into a
grotesque scene every time he would
look at a photo or picture of Him. It was
exceedingly torturous for Bhau. It was
not until the experience finally abated,
that he could talk about it. Apparently
it stopped occurring while watching a
movie about Baba that Peter Nordeen
had created. It was an immense relief
to Bhau when he could see Baba as the
Beautiful Beloved that he knew Him
to be.
For years after that episode, Bhau
would tell the story of the experience
of me holding up my painting and him
seeing a distorted image. Being such
a sensitive, supportive soul, he would
often say what a really good artist I was,
until the story began to embarrass me.
How He works!
Bhau and My Father’s Death
We Baba lovers were not allowed to
write or to email Bhau, but he was in our
hearts, so letters and calls weren’t necessary. But he was so open to connecting with Baba lovers. He was like a dear
mother hen with his chicks. On March
2nd, 2002, my father died unexpectedly.
He was a loving, inspiring man. His death
was a crushing shock to me. He hadn’t
let my brother and I know that he wasn’t
well and he died at home, where he
wanted to be. But I had no chance to say
goodbye or apologize for all the stupid
things I had ever said or done – so after
my father’s death I received an email
from Bhau! It came out of the blue. He
had never emailed me before.
I wish I could tell you the exact words.
I have kept the email in some mysterious
place. But he essentially said, “Hello
Dale, are you alright? I am thinking of
you.”
Somehow Bhau was aware of my
emotional upset and concerned enough
to write to me and ask me if I was okay.
Amazing. Some of my closest friends
didn’t know that my dearest dad had
died, but Bhau had felt my distress all
the way to India!
Late Breaking News −
This Just in From China!
G
eoffrey Gunther (who lives by
Avatar’s Abode in Australia)
tells us:
I just had a joyful chat with
Tian [Geoff’s wife] in China. Since
Bhau’s death there has been a
dramatic increase in interest in
China. There are hundreds of
new people in their 20’s and 30’s
being attracted by the Beloved.
All the Chinese who visited India
last year (Shao Bin, Bin Bin, Lin,
Shinghai, Julia ...)
are brimful of enthusiasm!
Tian is surrounded by a big
happy Baba family of doctors,
businessmen, diamond merchants
(!), masseurs, professional cooks
and so on.
The Baba chat rooms are attracting 200 or 300 people each
day.
Tian has to go to Shanghai for
Tian is the fourth from the right in the back row
three days to cater for demand
there and will
probably need
to go to Beijing
later in the year.
What an awakening is
happening in China!
Bhauji and the Bullock
Terry Lucas, Los Angeles (San Pedro)
F
or a number of years, I
had the privilege of going
to India every year at Bhau’s
behest because he said I
“made him laugh” and with
his heavy duties at the Trust,
he needed the lightness. I
would walk the entire Upper and Lower Meherabad
with Bhau and whoever
else wanted to come along
to look over the property,
check on the wells and the
progress of tree planting. I
called him “The Squire of the
Land” because of the care
he took looking after Baba’s interest
and directives.
On one occasion, Bhau and several
others of us were walking the property
and had gone to Lower Meherabad
to check on the hospital. I was trailing a little behind the group, enjoying
myself. Suddenly, I became aware of
something odd. From a quarter mile
away, I saw a bullock start running.
It was far away and I dismissed it as
“what I think is happening, isn’t happening” because the bullock looked
liked it was charging something. “This
really can’t be coming at ME!”
That’s when I realized I was dressed
TOTALLY in red. And, yes...it was coming at me at a very fast rate of speed.
I could see the farmer flat out loping
behind the bullock, yelling, but trailing
badly. I had only one fleeting moment
to get behind the skinniest of Neem
trees in an attempt to block
this huge, charging and ANGRY ANIMAL.
So, it had me cornered
behind the skinny tree. We
were in a weird kind of frightening dance. I would move
one way and he would move
another, trying to reach me.
And he would have been successful, except...HERE CAME
BHAU, waving his little blue
golf hat and drawing the
bullock’s attention away
from me, yelling, waving
and whistling like an Indian
cowboy. So for a brief moment, it was
aiming at Bhau! Finally, the farmer
caught up and pulled the bullock up
by a harness. The farmer was yelling
at the bullock and Bhauji was yelling
at the farmer. And I was shaking in my
sandals. That’s when I knew to NEVER
wear red again in India. And that’s
when I knew Bhauji was my hero and
rescuer. We laughed for days about
this one, so I guess I did my job!
The Mandali Shop Has Closed
Pris Haffenden, Los Angeles
R
eading the announcement of Bhau’s
passing brought a tear to my eye as
the realization washed over me: no more
eagerly awaited visits stateside from
Baba’s dear ones; no teas and stories on
the veranda; no great Mani hugs that
made you feel you were so important
to her; no kisses all over the face from
Dr. Goher that let you know you
were so welcome in Baba’s home...
no hugs from Eruch, who made
you feel that you were hugging
Heaven itself – no more times of
Bhau grabbing you by the hand,
placing a garland in your hand and
silently indicating where to place
it on Beloved Baba’s picture. No
more Mani, showing you how to
place the flowers all around Baba’s
room (trying to get all of the words
to the almost-silent prayers). No more
having Katie, in one move, hugging you
and instantly forgiving you for any way
you might have erred in following Baba’s
orders. No more savoring treats given to
you by Meheru with a story behind it...
no more playing music and being told
how Baba, Mehera and some of the
other dear departed Mandali might have
reacted to the piece. No more wonderful
tales of times spent in the presence of
the Divine Beloved by those who actually
experienced it. These are the things that
we mourn because they are no more –
yet we are cheered that we had the great
good forttune to have been able to have
partaken of such sweet nectar.
F
A Bhau Tribute
our days after Bhauji passed, Stella Manuel, the principal of Meher English School as well as “mother” to 103 children at
the Pumpkin House for Children, told Mehernath and Sheela—Bhau’s children—that she would like to create and host a
loving tribute to their father. His family happily aquiesced and were absolutely astounded, as were all present, by what Stella,
her daughter Fiona & son-in-law Vianny created. In just three days they put together this amazing body of work displaying all
of Bhau’s literary triumphs as well as many photos of him taken over the years. It was all set up on the grounds of Raj’s Meher
Nazar Books, Boutique, and Cyber Cafe in lower Meherabad.
The children from the Pumpkin House
Orphanage sang many songs with all their
hearts to entertain the crowd
Bhau’s family pulled the 2 ribbons and were overcome with emotion
when they saw the huge photo of their darling Bhauji unfurled.
The New Chairman of the Board
A
t a special meeting on Sunday, 15th
December 2013, Mani’s birthday, the
Board of Trustees of the Avatar Meher
Baba Trust has selected Shridhar Kelkar
as Chairman.
Also in response to the needs of
changing times the Board has resolved
that henceforth the Chairman will serve
a term of 5 years, and can be re-elected
by the Board for another 5 year term,
not exceeding 10 years in total as Chairman.
With Beloved Baba’s help and guidance and the good wishes of the Baba
world, may Shridhar serve his Lord and
Master, Avatar Meher Baba, in a way
that is pleasing to Him.
Avatar Meher Baba ki Jai!
The Board of Trustees of the Avatar Meher Baba PPC Trust − 15th December 2013
A Message from the
Chairman
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Beloved
Avatar Meher Baba’s Worldwide Family,
I am deeply honored, and at the same
time humbled to have been selected
as the new Chairman of the Trust created by our Lord Avatar Meher Baba. In
truth, as Beloved Baba Himself has told
us, He alone does His own work. Since
He dropped His physical form in 1969,
His own Mandali have given us the light
and the example of how to try to serve
and please Him. With Baba’s help, I will
try my very heartfelt best to uphold His
wish and to fulfill the responsibilities of
the new job that He has given me.
With our dear Bhauji’s recent passing, what was so long anticipated has
at last arrived, and we find ourselves in
a post-Mandali era. Their lives for Him
will always serve as immortal stars and
inspirations to us. At the same time, we
recognize that no one can emulate those
matchless souls whom Baba Himself
chose as his own intimate companions,
including our recent mandali Chairmen
Mani and Bhau. It is for us to discover,
afresh, ways of fulfilling His Wish—particularly as expressed in the Trust Deed
—according to the needs and conditions
of the present moment through the Ray
48
Shridhar Kelkar
of His guidance that always shines there.
In that spirit the Board of Trustees has
adopted new rules and regulations relating to term limits for Trustees as well as
for the Trust’s Chairman. You will find
a statement of these elsewhere in this
newsletter. My own term extends for
five years. I believe that this framework
of limitations will help bring out the best.
It sets a proper foundation for the continuing fulfillment of His charge to the
Trust, which will draw on the heartfelt
service, love, and creativity of many selfless workers for generations to come.
In taking on this task of the Chairmanship I am reassured in the knowledge
that Beloved Baba Himself upholds His
Trust, and that the loving support from
all of His lovers in His worldwide family
will help to make Meherabad, Meherazad and Meher Nazar continue to grow
and flourish as He intends. I well understand how difficult it will be to match up
to the standards set by those who have
gone before, and I shall try my utmost
and give my sincere honest efforts to
live up to the expectations that you, His
lovers, may have, born out of your own
love for Him. All fulfillments are in His
hands, and whatever is accomplished is
done by Him alone, our Lord and Eternal
Beloved.
In Baba’s Love, and with my deepest
heartfelt salutations to Him in all of you,
Shridhar— Avatar Meher Baba ki Jai!
Shridhar Kelkar was born on 28th
March 1938 on the coast of Maharashtra in Guhagar village, Ratnagiri district.
When working in Mumbai, Shridhar met
Perviz Talati, whose parents were Dina
and Naval Talati, very close disciples
of Meher Baba since the 1920’s. Perviz
grew up under Baba’s direct orders, and
she and Shridhar were married with Baba’s approval in 1966. Shridhar first had
Baba’s darshan in Pune during the EastWest Gathering in 1962 and in December
1968, attended the occasion of Mehera’s
birthday and Dara and Amrit’s wedding
in Meherazad. Perviz and Shridhar were
among the few who were called up onto
the porch for Baba’s embrace at that
time. The Kelkars have two children,
Meherman and Manije. Shridhar moved
to Meherabad in 1997 and served at the
Meherabad Trust Office, becoming a
trustee in 2001. He is now the Chairman
of the Avatar Meher Baba PPC Trust, the
Avatar Meher Baba Trust “Firstly,” and
the Meherazad Public Charitable Trust.
Editor’s Note:
After Shridhar left the stage at Amartithi,
I took the opportunity to introduce myself. To
my astonishment he responded, “Oh I know
you! And I knew your Mother very well too!”
Unfortunately I couldn’t question him about
that intriguing statement as I certainly wasn’t
the only one there who wanted to talk with
the new Chairman. However, I am definitely
aware that my mother, Diana Snow, was very
well known in the Baba world. In the early
70s she spent quite some time in Meherabad
cutting & sewing all the sheets for the soon
to be opened Pilgrim Center. Mother was an
indefatigable worker in Baba’s cause. In fact,
when He was being shown around the just
finished Avatar’s Abode in 1958, Baba said to
her, “I hear you did the work of eight men!”
I have a feeling great things are in store
for AMBPPCT under Shridhar’s guidance. I’m
sure Bhau is very pleased with his successor.
The Meherabad Young Adult Sahavas 2013
U
nder the seven colours of Meher
Baba’s flag and showers of Grace
from the sky, 100 young hearts descended on Meherabad to celebrate
seven days in intimate company with
their beloved Avatar Meher Baba, from
26th August until 1st September 2013.
They came from all over the country,
driven by overwhelming love, to pour
their hearts out, sing, dance and play
with Baba, driven by this one burning
desire to walk the earth He walked and
breathe the air He breathed and feel
HIS presence.
The stage was set as they were
given a traditional welcome by the
volunteers and AMB Trust. The theme
for this year’s Sahavas, “Constant Remembrance," resonated in the hearts
of the Sahavasees looking forward
to HIS experience. As the Dhuni was
lit—and prayers were offered—and
as the Sahavasees lit and placed their
candles under Baba’s picture, it felt as if
all fears, doubts and negativity melted
in the pure fire.
Their greatest fortune was the opportunity for daily darshan as pilgrims
at Beloved Baba’s sacred Samadhi.
Following this, the seven days were an
extravaganza of music, dance, sports,
crafts, service projects, and visits to
places of historical significance associated with Baba’s life. The Sahavasees
felt the presence of Baba in each and
every moment and in the smallest of
acts. On the auspicious day of Lord
Krishna’s birthday, Bhajans and dance
celebrations had a different fervour,
and it felt as if Baba Himself was presiding over the celebrations.
The Meher Premier League cricket
threw up its shining stars, who displayed their best game to stake a claim
to the coveted Baba cup and medals.
The “Baba quiz," with its dynamic rules
format, threw up no winners or losers, true to the rules of Baba’s world,
where there are no winners or losers,
only Baba lovers!
The service projects in Meherabad
and Meherazad brought about the camaraderie and team spirit in the groups
who lovingly polished every single
stone, dusted every wall and corner,
and pulled every weed to make their
Welcome to Beloved Baba’s Abode
Theme of the Sahavas: Constant Remembrance
Meher Premier League Presentation
Meherabad Service Project: Cleaning
the Women Mandali’s Shrines
Meherabad Service Project: Cleaning
Baba’s Jopdhi & Table House
49
Visit and Darshan at AMB Pune Centre
Meherazad, Meher Free Dispensary Service Project Team
with Dr. Michael Ramsden
Meherazad Service Project:
Cleaning Mandali Hall
Meherazad − cleaning, cleaning, cleaning!
love shine for Baba, bringing Baba’s
motto “Mastery in Servitude” alive.
The trip to Pune to visit Baba’s
house, Pumpkin House, AMB Pune
Centre and Guruprasad Memorial Hall,
made the Sahavasees feel the deep
connection that they have shared with
Baba over eternity.
And as if by a miracle, Bhau Kalchuri,
the lone surviving Mandali, granted the
Sahavasees an audience at his daughter’s home in Meherabad, in spite of
his tenuous health. As he was wheeled
out, supervised by his doctors and
attendants, the Sahavasees couldn’t
contain their joy and longing for the
Beloved Avatar. The house erupted
to the sounds of “Baba Hu” and “SatChit-Anand."
Throughout the seven days, the
Trustees and other Baba lovers who
have had the good fortune to have
had direct contact with Baba lovingly
presided over panel discussions, group
discussions and Question & Answer
sessions, attempting to ensure that the
real message of Baba gets imprinted in
the young hearts.
The Celebration night at Meherabad’s theatre, with its song, dance
and drama performances, played out
to Sahavasees eager to drink from
Baba’s overflowing cup of love. The
performances were spellbinding, mesmerizing labours of love.
The visit to Meherazad was electrifying, charged with Baba’s presence in
each breath. As the Bhajans in the Meherazad Mandali Hall reached a feverish pitch, many Sahavasees broke into
tears of joy. Each one of them walked
out with their own special message
from Baba, their very intimate meeting
with Baba.
On the last day of the Sahavas, the
air felt heavy with the prospect of
impending parting with the Beloved.
Sahavasees poured their hearts out,
bidding their goodbyes to their Beloved and fellow Sahavasees. But we
all know, no one can ever leave Meherabad; it always comes with you.
And Sahavas with the Beloved can
never end. It continues forever....
Avatar Meher Baba PPC Trust, by
participants of the Meherabad Young
Adult Sahavas 2013 13 September 2013
50
Celebration Night - Gopi’s dancing with their Beloved
Baba dressed as Lord Krishna
What’s Happening in Los Angeles
The Beloved’s Birthday Celebration
(upper RT) Musical
guest from Asheville,
Billy Goodrum
(Above, under Billy) The Still
Yet More Chamber Players
(LT) Billy plays, Deborah
sings, and Reza
reads a Persian poem.
What’s Happening
at the
of the computer coming on
from the Library, like a deeply
resonant symphonic chord.
We looked at each other and
burst out laughing, how Babalike. Does this mean I could
have thanked Baba earlier and
avoided the traipse across the
frozen lawn?
So, I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you, for
your warm thoughts, prayers,
and many contributions that
have been coming in to the
Heartland Center. It is truly inspiring. I
have a deep sense of gratitude and awe
The Ice Palace
Jai Baba friends,
Back in December large
parts of Oklahoma suffered
from the effects of a devastating ice storm. I published this
account on facebook but have
repeated it here for those of
you that don’t spend your days
diving through Facebook for the
latest pearls.
We woke this morning to the
Ice Palace, each branch and twig of every
tree glimmered in its own crystal jacket.
As I came downstairs I felt extremely
fortunate that we had electricity and
heat. I didn’t know that it was to be short
lived. My chai habit is so deeply ingrained
that it’s like staggering to the coffeepot.
I turned the stove on under my chai and
then the electricity went out. I waited
a bit hoping it would be one of those
momentary interruptions as everything
flickered on and off. I reluctantly gave up
when the rumbling sound of the hospital
generator came on next door.
The thought of facing such a cold day
without chai was out of the question, so
a guest and myself decided to go over
to the Morrison House where there is a
gas cook top to make breakfast and chai.
We packed up all the ingredients and
52
stepped out the door to see the Barta
driveway and lawn covered with dead
limbs. Part of this tree had been dead
for some time so I had mixed feelings. I
had no idea how I was going to get up
in the tree to prune, so the ice storm
seemed to provide a partial solution. Now I just needed to pay someone to
cut the limbs up and haul them off. Baba
pruning apparently.
We came back into the Burleson
House to enjoy our breakfast and warm
chai. Sitting at the dining table, we began counting our blessings. It could be
worse, the house could be cold and no
way to heat it without the spark of electricity to ignite the gas furnace. What if
there wasn’t gas to cook on at the Morrison House? There are so many things
to be thankful for. I looked at Baba’s picture and was moved to express thanks
to Baba for our many blessings that
morning. The statement was hardly out
of my mouth when we heard the sound
as I see Baba in every envelope that
comes. I thank Baba, but must also acknowledge your part in His plan of keeping the lights on and the chai flowing!
I would also like to thank Danny Ladinsky who donated 5 copies of his new
book, The Purity of Desire. We would like
to send a copy to the first five people
who donate $100. Please acknowledge
the book somewhere in the envelope
when you send your check.
We are continueing our building projects at the Morrison House next door so
as to be able to host more pilgrims here
as needed. More information about that
will be coming in another email.
If you would like to dedicate funds
to a particular Heartland Center project
that is dear to your heart, please let us
know. Ginna Bourisseau,
Managing Director AMBHC
RAISE THE ROOF!
March 18, 2014
Jai Baba! Greetings from the
very, very active Heartland Center!
Spring is rushing into the Heartland Center with a flurry of activity!
A work crew of Baba lovers from
Asheville, NC arrived nine days ago,
and will remain for another five
days (Peter Nordeen, Kyle Romeo,
Joe Dunn, and Charlie Eaton). Local Baba lovers, and long-term pilgrims are helping too. (Dan Sparks
and John Giusto.) These hard
working men are ‘raising’ a few
roofs! Actually, the work is on the
Burleson House and garage, which suffered serious wind damage a year ago. The goal in these two weeks of effort
is basically to remove all old shingles,
and repair the roof structures, doing
of the project, as well as hosting day
visitors and overnight pilgrims as well.
Luckily, the Oklahoma weather seems to be cooperating and March is hopefully staying ‘like a lamb’
rather than like a roaring
lion! But if there are rainy
days the work crewmen
roll up their sleeves to see
to many other needed
repair and improvement
tasks in the Morrison
House, where they are
actually staying. Exciting
news flash! A dishwasher
is being installed in the
Morrison House, bringing this
structure closer to being a prepared
and refurbished retreat house which
will eventually serve as the caretaker’s
residence and pilgrim overflow.
Baba’s timing is always His own.
Wish item: a truck!
additional eaves and structural work to
prepare for the new roofing. It’s very
exciting! Our industrious managing
director, Ginna Bourisseau, is holding
down the fort overseeing many details
Having this amazing hubbub of work at the Heartland
Center has brought
up something we’ve
been thinking about
for awhile – the need
for a truck. Having use
of a truck is crucial for
getting materials and
supplies, and when
not in ‘work mode’ a
truck would be so useful for
gatherings, garden work, and
many other activities that require moving and hauling. At
present a local carpenter has
graciously allowed us to rent his
truck with a rack. The truck in use
is an older truck and it was soon
discovered that it took $20 in gas
just to go to Shawnee, the nearest
‘bigger’ town.
This work week has really focused us on the many practical
uses of a truck, so the Heartland
Center is considering purchasing
one. Before taking this purchasing step and using funds for this
expenditure rather than keeping
these funds for renovations, we
thought we’d send a shout out to
the Baba family and see if anyone
has a truck they’d like to donate to the
Heartland Center, or if anyone would
like to provide a grant for the express
purpose of purchasing a truck. There are
IRS guidelines for vehicle donations to a
charity. Since the Heartland Center is a
501(c)3 and will be keeping the vehicle
to use it in its charitable work, a donor
can report its fair market value based
on listings from Kelley Blue Book and
similar sources.
53
What kind of truck?
A truck in good working order that
gets reasonable gas mileage.
If it has a rack, all the better, but we
could install one as well. If you are interested in donating a truck or would like to
discuss providing a grant please contact
Thanks so much!
All this work takes financial resources.
We wish to thank you for your financial
support. It’s been so heart-warming
to receive your love offerings for all
the ongoing work. As we all know, old
houses need maintenance and upkeep!
[email protected] (caretaker email for reservations, etc.)
[email protected] (contact the board)
Website: www.ambhc.org
To donate via paypal:
http://www.ambhc.org/donate.htm
Donations may also be sent to:
7804 NBU Prague OK 74864
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/
Avatar-Meher-Baba-HeartlandCenter/129414380403631
Blog: www.ambhc.blogspot.com
Ginna Bourisseau at: AMB.Heartland@
gmail.com (405-567-4774).
We appreciate every penny you donate...
we know it comes from Baba!
The Producer of it all:
All the best to you all from
Baba’s Heartland Center,
Debbie Nordeen
It’s always very touching to see how
Baba gets everything done. He is the
master scheduler and life planner, no
doubt. And what a Producer, Director!
Not to mention the Casting Director and
Script writer! Well, He doesn’t show His
hand much or let us see what the next
day’s script entails, but He keeps working on and through all the players to get
His wish and will accomplished. He does
His own work, and it’s our privilege to
be in His play.
54
Artwork by Helen Hill
Wild Fantasy or Portent of the Future?
Out of the blue this came to me this morning…
By John Poag, Oklahoma
hile resting on my couch for a few
minutes this morning, before going
to work, the following came to me. It came
unexpectedly in a flash, almost like it was
real, and felt like Baba was dreaming inside
of me. It was storming and moody outside,
it felt like I was in Myrtle Beach, on the
Baba Center.
Suddenly, I was transported to Prague.
There was increased earthquake activity
there, causing international media attention....
Then, someone, I don’t know who, put
together a powerful article about this area
of OK being where God Himself, who had
descended to earth in Human Form, as
Meher Baba, had shed His blood upon the
earth in copious amounts, on May 24th
1952, and that this area in OK was sacred
and spiritually potent and was now the
home of a Spiritual Center there, and that
God was trying to get everyone’s attention, to Wake people Up and realize what
God had done for the entire world there!
The article caught on fire and several international and national news crews quickly
showed up at the AMBHC doorstep, to
interview the Director, Ginna, about Meher
Baba and just what this was all about?
The interview, and many other witnessed reports about the importance of
Meher Baba in Prague abounded, the Story
of Meher Baba and the accident spread
around the world. Local Baba haters were
W
interviewed as well, which only increased
the public interest. Speculation about the
possible meaning of Baba shedding His
blood there and what people meant about
the powerful spiritual experiences they
had there abounded and were broadcast
all over the world.
Before the Baba community at large
had a chance to react in any large way, the
AMBHC was bombarded with international
attention from everywhere from Russia, to
South Korea, to Africa, South America, you
name it, wanting to know More!!! More!!!
More!!! Spiritual organizations from everywhere suddenly became very interested.
The Murshida of SRO was found in San
Francisco and interviewed, and gave powerful statements and witness to just who
Baba was and His mission to the world to
Wake the world Up, and the creation of
a New Humanity, which was shown on
National TV!
Somewhere during this time, a very
large earthquake was reported and a large
rift in the earth was found near the accident sight! The owners of the land decided
they had had enough, and decide to sell the
property at the accident site! At that point,
an SRO representative, Bill, came to town
and quickly purchased the land. Eventually,
a beautiful Welcome Center right by the accident site, and a Spiritual School (1/4 mile
back from the road) were built.
Several Baba lovers moved to Prague
and started giving presentations to the
City Council and a very large amount of investment money from overseas concerns
came into town to create a world class
Pilgrim and Spiritual Retreat environment
in Prague, for all the anticipated visitors
who would be coming. The AMBHC purchased the Old Prague
hospital at this time, and converted it into a
dual-purpose, Wellness Center and Pilgrim
Retreat, with Baba’s Room being turned
into a sacred sanctuary for silent prayer,
meditation and devotion, not unlike the
Samadhi. Regular tours were given.
With all the international investment
money, the town flourishes as never before—there is a huge economic boom.
Over half the town become fierce Baba
lovers a la Hamirpur, and a significant
remnant in the town remain adamantly
opposed. There is constant tension, which
just heightens the energy tension in the air.
Parts of Prague feel like Assisi.
A relatively large spiritual community
grows up around the two centers....(accident site center and AMBHC).
A continual and steady stream of national and international pilgrims continually come to town throughout the year,
and a local airport is built by a rich multi
national company to fly people in from
other countries.
Wild Fantasy? or Portent of the Future?
It is Baba’s Dream, and anything is possible in His Love.
Excerpts from FOX NEWS Published May 6, 2014, Associated Press.
OKLAHOMA CITY – The rate of earthquakes in Oklahoma has increased by about 50 percent since October 2013, significantly increasing the
chance for a damaging quake in the central part of the state, federal and state agencies said Monday.
The U.S. Geological Survey and Oklahoma Geological Survey reported that 183 earthquakes of magnitude 3.0 or greater occurred from October
2013 through April 14. This compares with an average of only two magnitude 3.0 or larger earthquakes per year from 1978 to 2008.
“As a result of the increased number of small and moderate shocks, the likelihood of future, damaging earthquakes has increased for central
and north-central Oklahoma,” a statement from the agencies said.
“The water injection can increase underground pressures, lubricate faults and cause earthquakes—a process known as injection-induced seismicity. Much of this wastewater is a byproduct of oil and gas production and is routinely disposed of by injection into wells specifically designed
and approved for this purpose,” the report stated. “The recent earthquake rate changes are not due to typical, random fluctuations in natural
seismicity rates.."..
...The U.S. Geological Survey says Oklahoma is now the second most-active state seismically, behind California.
Journal of Geophysical Research suggested that the sharpest earthquake to strike Oklahoma, a magnitude 5.7 quake centered near Prague, may
have been triggered in part by wastewater injection—which if true, would make the 2011 temblor the strongest ever linked to disposal practices
within the oil and gas industry. The quake caused at least $4.5 million in damages...
As a result of the increased seismicity, the Oklahoma Geological Survey has increased the number of monitoring stations and now operates a
seismograph network of 15 permanent stations and 17 temporary stations. The state and federal agencies are involved in research to determine the
cause of the increased earthquake rate and to quantify the increased hazard in central Oklahoma. [From the online paper “Mail Online, Tuesday,
May 13th 2014, 9 pm]
55
What's Happening in Sydney
The 58th Anniversary of Meher Baba’s Visit to Meher House
Kelly Malone, New Zealand
F
rancis Brabazon felt it was important
for Meher Baba’s anniversaries in
Australia to be celebrated with entertainment. Francis would encourage
Baba’s followers to write their own
plays, poems, and songs. The 58th Sydney Anniversary of Baba’s visit to Meher
House, August 9 – 11th, was no different
in its celebration. In fact, there were so
many acts, skits, poems, and songs that
unfortunately not all of them can be
mentioned here in this account. What a
turnout there was for this weekend full
of entertainment!
This was an anniversary of firsts. It
was the first anniversary Baba lovers
from Queensland outnumbered their
Sydney counterparts (following Francis’
tradition from 1969 of travelling via rail
from the June Anniversary at Avatar’s
Abode in Queensland, to the Sydney
Anniversary at Meher House in August).
This was the first anniversary with international guests: Buz and Wendy Connor
from the U.S. In the swell of Buz’s music
– the voice Mehera likened to Baba’s –
all these firsts culminated into the most
poignant first: the first anniversary without “Mama." The space Joan Le Page
“Mama/Joannie” has left, Buz’s music
began to bridge, and how sweet this
bridge was, for it was Buz’s music Joan
Le Page enjoyed so much.
On Friday night, Buz opened his first
performance with a new song that takes
its chorus (and some of the verse lyrics)
from Keshav N. Nigam’s Meher Chalisa
– a poem of praise for the Beloved, and
the poem Baba asked Keshav to read out
when Baba declared His Avatarhood in
Hamirpur, 1954. “Hari! Paramatma! Allah! Ahurmazd! God! Yazdan! Hu!” Aside
from this song and other new songs, Buz
sang one called “Desire” with lyrics from
Rumi, and a catchy chorus, “Bring your
desires – let the cup full up with grace –
there’s no going back – look only to the
Beloved’s face.” Buz’s music soothes
the illusionary separation from the Beloved and somehow makes the longing
bittersweet. He poured out his classics
over the weekend: “Nothing Less than
Everything” “Surrender," “Start Your
Day with Meher Baba," and “Open Up
the Door” – yet Buz obviously hasn’t
played his classics enough because he
didn’t recognise one of his own tunes
when it was put to incongruous text. It
was a game Meherose introduced where
you had to guess the song as it was sung
to new ‘lyrics’ – words taken from instructional text. There was competition
between the Sydney and Queensland
sides but the scoring was dubious with
sides readily blending!
Another competition between the
Sydney and Queensland teams was
hosted by a comedy act. The act included a slick “Who Wants to Be God
Realised?” The format modelled from
the game show “Who Wants to be a
Millionaire?” Questions drew on general
Baba knowledge. For example, “The
Avatar will return in how many years?”
Of course everyone knew the answer
for that question, while some questions
were akin to specialist Baba knowledge.
The scoring was again another point of
entertainment.
The 700 year ‘issue’ was again apparent when Meherose held a Q & A session
on the Saturday afternoon. Invariably
many of us were keen to know how we
could secure our place with Baba next
time round. How much time would we
have to wait? Calculations were based
on lives-still-to-be-lived and divided by a
figure of 700. The discussion that ensued
eventually got to the cessation of time
in reality, the thrust of what Francis’
explains:
“Because we cannot understand his
time-scale of timelessness we speak of
his coming to us and his going away.
But there is nowhere from which he
may come: he is always here – stand-
ing outside the doors of our hearts,
knocking so discreetly in case we are
not ready to be disturbed… His seven
hundred years will pass in an instant and
he will knock again… beloved God-Man
is eternally where he is – here with us.”
Francis Brabazon, The Silent Word (Mumbai: Meher House Productions, 1978), 3-4,
quoted in Keating, Francis Brabazon: Poet
of the Silent Word: a Modern Hafiz, 275.
On Saturday evening, a marvellous
play “Conference of the Birds (The Remix)” included a couple of generations
of the Borthwick family. Also, Wendy
Borthwick remembered Meheru in a skit
that told the story of Meheru’s dog Tippoo who would sing Baba’s Arti. The dog
was enacted (and dressed as a dog) by a
good humoured John Borthwick… who
also dog-sang the Gujarati Arti!
The care Baba and His dear ones had
for animals reminds me of ‘Jimmy’ the
turtle. Wendy [Connor] told us the remarkable story of Jimmy the Box Turtle.
Jimmy lived in Dilruba with Kitty and
Elizabeth. He had a key spot on top of the
bench in the kitchen and was included
thoughtfully into their daily life as part
of the family. There were instructions
on how Jimmy was to be cared for in
Elizabeth’s absence. When Elizabeth
left for India, she gave detailed instructions on how Jimmy should be buried if
he were to pass. There was the special
construction of a wooden box with a
Baba card to be placed in the box, which
was to be buried under the birdbath
overlooking the Lake behind Dilruba.
Wendy concluded by saying how the care
for the turtle, even in death, shows the
importance of each living soul.
Wendy’s animation of Baba, how she
captured His gestures, and her stories of
Kitty (and how well she captured Kitty’s
expressions too) were a gift to witness.
There were the light hearted stories of
Kitty, such as the time she tried breakingup a sibling argument between Wendy
and Charles when looking after them.
Kitty got in between them and said,
“Johnny Doh, Johnny Doh.” Perplexed
by what Johhny Doh had to do with their
argument both her and Charles stopped.
Thus Wendy came to know the meaning
of ‘janne do’: Hindi for ‘let it go.’
The recollections of Wendy and her
family’s life with Baba were so full and
light, but also moving. Wendy conveys
such a cheerful spirit and deep love for
Baba simultaneously. She shared her delightful memories of first meeting Baba,
to her apprehension on seeing Him again
– how quickly this left when she did see
Him, to the last time Wendy saw Baba in
His physical form. The description of her
seeing Baba for the last time had many
of us in tears. Wendy, herself, choked at
the memory but was soon composed.
Even writing an account of this moment
continues to be moving. However, I will
quote Wendy directly from her article “I
Will Always Be With You: Memories of
the East West Gathering:"
“I don’t know how much time passed
but, at some point, Eruch came up
to Baba telling Him it was time to go.
As Baba rose, the crowd immediately
jumped to its feet and surged forward,
everyone instinctively trying to get as
close as possible one last time. I, too,
was longing to get up close to Baba
but it seemed as if the harder I tried to
move forward, the more I was pushed
to the back of the crowd. I started crying, my heart breaking, when suddenly, I
somehow found myself right up next to
the car, on the driver’s side, (Meherjee
was driving). I was still crying, my face
wet with tears, when Baba turned His
face toward me and gestured, “Don’t
cry, Wendy. Don’t be sad. I will always
be with you.”
Needless to say, hearing the story
from Wendy herself was very special.
Later I thanked her. I remarked on how
beautiful it was she got to see Baba again
in the car and how Baba showed her He
was always with her. Then she reminded
me of the last part of what Baba said, ."..
and always will be.”
At one point, when everyone had left
the Big Room (Baba’s Room), Michael
Le Page continued sitting quietly on the
couch. Here his, Jenny’s and Maree’s
home, shared with us all, built by Francis and cared for with such dedication
by Joan, became his family home once
again. As I left I overheard Michael say,
“I’m missing Mama.” I was reading
Wendy Connor’s article It Just Passes
more Quickly. In it she quotes from Kitty
Davy’s book Love Alone Prevails a message Baba gave Delia in a letter after
Mabel Ryan, Margaret Craske’s dancing/
business partner, passed: “Love knows
no separation, and because you loved
her so much, nothing, even death – as
physical separation is called – can break
the tie of love there is between you.”
My first brief visit to Meher House was
in the early 90s. In a matter of minutes I
went from being a tourist in the big city
of Sydney, to being greeted warmly by
a woman, and facing Baba’s sadhra and
sandals. This woman’s energy was both
warm and focussed. She was keenly interested in me and how I’d come to be at
Meher House. Overcome, I simply cried.
To her, and those seasoned Meher House
visitors, my moment probably passed
quite unnoticed. For me the impression
of this visit, and this woman, Joan Le
Page, has endured.
This ‘first’ anniversary was a springtide in Baba’s sahavas. One that didn’t
want to end, but this account must. First
though, another gem Wendy shared.
Kitty, one day when attending to her
correspondence, had around an eight
page letter from one of Baba’s followers asking for Kitty’s advice. Wendy was
concerned for Kitty having to attend to
such letters, but soon realised it provided
an opportunity for Kitty to remember
what she learnt from her days with Baba.
Kitty wrote a list – as she was known to
do – and said:
Four important things come to mind
as I think back on the days with Baba in
India and watching His work, the fourth
being the most difficult:
1. There must be no worry attached to
our work. This, Baba says, is one of the
greatest obstacles to spiritual progress.
2. There must be joy and enthusiasm.
3. There must be endless patience.
4. To be and look cheerful and happy,
is a spiritual duty! Baba says, “Being
cheerful is a divine art.”
Followers of Meher Baba continue to
bow down to Baba at various Baba-significant places around the globe. Forty-four
years since the dropping of Baba’s body,
and the subsequent ‘Great Darshan’,
and here at Meher House, the anniversary of Baba’s visit was no different. We
bowed down to Him in our hearts, in our
remembrance, and together we shared
“an entirely different order of devotion”
in the home Francis unknowingly built
for all these hearts of longing years later.
57
What’s Happening at the
Hyderabad Meher Baba Center
Editor’s note: I spent a week at this very beautiful place a few
years ago. I am very happy to see that it seems they are leading
the Baba Centers in water conservation. Padmi B. Patell sent
me the article he wrote for the National newspaper – The Hindu
Ways to Woo Water
March 21, 2014
A water initiative by a community that takes care of its
neighbourhood’s water needs.
Why would a group of engineers, doctors, software professionals, housewives and students be digging up soil on a sunny
weekend? Come Sunday and the Avatar Meher Baba Hyderabad
Centre (AMBHC) in Jubilee Hills is abuzz with these active volunteers negating their egos to identify with their community
service activity of Water Harvesting. And not just by the commonly used method, but a full-fledged scientific operation that
ensures water in excess for the good of the neighbourhood.
What began as an intervention is proving to be the mother
of invention at AMBHC. Located at the highest point of Jubilee
Hills, this 5000 sq ft property rests on sheet rock. Water was
scarce right from 1986 when construction of the Centre began
58
and started becoming acute in 2003 when the bore well ran
dry. Added to this was a freak mishap of a water tanker rolling down from the parking spot, making all water suppliers
reluctant to supply.
The Centre sought professional advice on scientific rainwater harvesting and learned that the most effective way of
charging the water table is to direct rainwater to the level of
the aquifer. Earlier it was sufficient to charge the top aquifer
or the water table aquifer. But given the present scenario in
most parts of the city there is little or no water at this level but
only deeper down at the secondary fracture zone.
“As 40 % of rainwater is available as surface runoff, the goal
was to make all running water walk and all walking water penetrate into the soil. This means capturing maximum rainwater
that can be filtered and stored, preventing any of it from
flowing into a drain where it is contaminated and lost,” says
Rajendra P Meher who is driven by the genuine concern for
the rapidly decreasing water table in Hyderabad.
Presently close to three lakh litres of rain water from the
roof top area is being directed into the new 550 feet bore which
takes care of the Centre’s needs and for drip irrigating the lush
green Garden of Divinity on the premises. Approximately 14
lakh litres is captured from the Open/paved area inside and
around the Centre and is channelized into the old 270 ft bore.
This helps charge the water table of areas surrounding the
Centre.
The most appropriate manner to celebrate World Water
Day (March 22) perhaps is to educate ourselves about effective water harvesting, keeping in mind the aquifer level of our
locality. Chances remain that the water you harvest will eventually trickle into a tap five streets away. Likewise, the water
you get will be the result of somebody else’s handy work - for
water sure has its own way of teaching compassion, one drop
at a time!
Visitors are welcome at the AMBH Centre on a Sunday morning to witness the compassionate water experiment. We need
to educate ourselves about effective water harvesting, keeping
in mind the aquifer level of our locality.
Passings
Peggy, July 9,1925 July 11, 2013
Bill & Peggy Stephens
by Roger Stephens
M
y mother, Margaret
Alice McCurdy Peggy
Stephens, went to her beloved Baba July 11. She is
dearly missed by her husband, Bill, her four children,
Don, Julia, Melani, and I, as
well as countless friends,
family members and Baba
lovers the world over whose
lives she touched [Note: Bill
subsequently passed away in
November].
Peggy was born on July
9,1925, which because of
the time zone difference coincides with the very day Meher Baba
began His silence in India. She and Bill,
who were high school sweethearts,
were married in 1945 and raised their
family in South Florida. Bill and Peggy
first heard Baba’s name on the David
Susskind show in 1967, where Allan Y.
Cohen was a guest speaker. They did
not, however, become drawn to Him
until their friend Ric O’Barry (then Ric
O’Feldman) mentioned that he had just
returned from the Great Darshan in India
in 1969. Ric gave a copy of God Speaks to
Bill with the dedication “To the Universe
– the Illusion that Sustains Reality” and
he somehow knew beyond a doubt that
Meher Baba was God. I remember Dad
being overwhelmed by his reading and
exclaiming to us “only God could have
written this book!”
But it wasn’t until he and Mom visited
the Meher Center in Myrtle Beach later
that year, and met Kitty Davy, Elizabeth
Patterson, and others, that Peggy became convinced of Baba’s Divinity. They
took us kids to the Center in the early
Summer of 1970 and we realized that
Baba was not just another fad or cult
Dad had embraced.
Peggy was the sweet and practical
rock in our family. She loved Jesus as a
result of her Christian upbringing, but
never pushed us kids into attending
church. She was so level-headed and
sensible that when she was swept into
Baba’s orbit we knew that something
very special was happening.
Shortly after this initial honeymoon
with Baba, we began to attend regular
Baba meetings in Miami. These were well
attended by members of a large group
of longtime Baba Lovers and scores of
young seekers drawn to His flame. As
fate would have it, Ann Forbes, who had
met Baba, asked Bill and Peggy if they
would conduct the group meetings, as
she had her husband’s health issues to
deal with. They were delighted to accept and consequently Baba opened the
floodgates, and scores of souls began to
attend meetings at our home and other
locations in Miami.
The early ’70s were a remarkable
time for Baba’s work in Miami. We regularly had a couple of dozen attendees,
which would swell to over a hundred at
special occasions. I traveled overland to
Meherabad in the Fall of 1973 and Peggy
and Bill showed up at the Samadhi on
Christmas Eve, much to my surprise
and delight. This was their first trip to
India, but thereafter they made a regular pilgrimage to Meherabad over the
years, sometimes bringing many family
members with them!
There are many sweet and poignant
stories of Peggy’s life I could relate
here but at this writing I feel compelled
to tell just this one. In 1963, my father
received an assignment from Reader’s
Digest to write an article to be
titled “The Romance of Pearls."
Dad had problems making the
article flow the way the publishers
wanted. Peggy stepped in and
co-authored the article making it
a joint effort. Decades later – in
December of 1994 (my parents’
50th wedding anniversary and
the 100th anniversary of Baba’s
birth) – while they were in India,
Baba’s sister Mani gave Peggy the
Indian edition of Reader’s Digest,
containing their article. Mani
told Peg that Mehera had liked
the article so much that she had
shown it to her Beloved Baba, and
Mani had read part of it aloud to
Him. They had kept the magazine
all those years! Bill and Peggy felt
that Baba had perhaps given them a
compassionate inward push-or pull-that
had later brought them into His arms.
Peggy died in Nashville, Tennessee,
where Bill and Peggy lived in the ’80s,
and where her youngest daughter,
Melani, has lived for many years with her
family. Bill is there and receives love and
care from his family. Peggy was a mother
and mentor/guide to many souls over
the years. Her remarkable compassion
and gentle wisdom is remembered and
cherished by all she touched.
Bill, 1924-November 21, 2013
W
illiam M. Stephens passed away
21 November 2013, joining his
beloved wife, Peggy, who died four
months prior. Here is Bill’s brief biography from one of his books:
William M. Stephens was born in
Chattanooga, Tennessee. He and his
wife, Peggy, met in high school. On his
seventeenth birthday, after Pearl Harbor
was attacked, Stephens joined the U.S.
Marine Corps and served in the Central
Pacific. Later he received degrees in law
and marine science. He practiced law for
many years, worked in marine science,
and also taught college courses in law,
criminal justice, and creative writing.
A pioneer scuba-diver and underwater
photographer, he survived a frightening
adventure in 1959 when his diving gear
59
malfunctioned at a depth of 200
feet during an archaeological
excavation.
After a near-death experience
in 1969, Stephens made a
pilgrimage to India, became a
follower of Avatar Meher Baba,
and began writing about saints
and mystics and the joys of
following a God-realized Master.
Bill is the author of Souls on
Fire (Nashville: Oceanic Press,
1997) and Footprints in the Sand
(Nashville: Oceanic Press, 1997).
Souls on Fire tells of the lives
of men and women of many
lands and faiths—saints, mystics
and masters—whose passionate
love for God inspires the modern
world: Rabia of Basra, Francis of
Assisi, Milarepa, Rumi, Mirabai,
Hafiz, Kabir, Teresa of Avila, George Fox,
Sri Ramakrishna, Hazrat Babajan, and
Meher Baba.
Footprints in the Sand—A near-death
experience by the ocean changed the
author William Stephens from an agnostic to a spiritual seeker. He found himself
in the presence of a Divine Being, Avatar
Meher Baba, who erased his addictions
to alcohol and drugs, and gave him a
new life of love, joy, and service.
If I Could Only Remember
William M. Stephens
If I could only remember, I’d know
what you looked like the last time I saw
your physical form...and what I looked
like, too.
It’s all there in the mind, I’m sure...
but how can I pull it out?
I can’t even remember what I had for
dinner last night, or if I took my vitamins
this morning.
If I could recall to my mind’s eye the
last time I saw your face, I’d study the
light in your eyes, and your expression
when last your eyes met mine.
Oh, Love, you knew how long it
would be before I saw you again. Did
you give me a perfunctory hug and turn
away...or was it a long, tender look?
Did you give me a little hint, a wink of
the eye or a lingering caress...so I’d be
prepared for the long spell without you?
Or did you behave as though we’d be
together again soon...knowing it would
be an eternity for me?
I wish I could remember. But even if I
can’t, you could still give me a glimpse of
60
your face, you know...here and now, this
very moment...if you wanted to make
me very happy.
Just a tiny, tiny glimpse – a few milliseconds. What is that to One who lives
in Eternity?
Please, Beloved, just one glimpse.
Is that too much to ask between old
friends and lovers?
We go way back, Baba. Let’s bring
this affair up to date. I promise not to
tell a soul until you say the word.
Footprints In The Sand, p. 96
The Will To Go For It
William M. Stephens
When I was counting repetitions
[of Baba’s name], the method I used is
this: I would start by visualizing Meher
Baba seated in a comfortable chair. He
is barefooted, and His feet rest on a pillow. Baba’s hands are together, palm to
palm, in the familiar “Namaste” position.
I bow to Baba, and I touch (with my
lips or my hands) each of His toes and
fingers as I repeat His name seven times
for each toe and each finger.
Starting with Baba’s right foot, first
I kiss the little toe as I repeat “Baba”
seven times; then I kiss the second toe
while again saying “Baba” seven times.
Continuing in a counter-clockwise direction, I say His name seven times while
kissing or touching each toe and each
finger. In completing my first counterclockwise circuit of Baba’s 20 toes and
fingers, I therefore say Baba’s name
140 times.
Then I reverse the circuit and come
back in a clockwise direction,
beginning at the little finger on
Baba’s right hand, and ending
where I began, at the little toe
on the right foot. At that point I
have made one complete circuit
and return, and have said Baba’s
name 280 times
So I start my second circuit,
and just as I begin, Baba lifts the
next-to-smallest toe on His right
foot and holds it up for this entire
circuit. The raised toe is to remind
me that I am on the second circuit.
When I start the third circuit,
Baba will raise the middle toe on
the right foot, which will indicate
I am working on the third circuit.
So throughout the process, if I
get lost, confused or interrupted,
I can go back to where I was by
looking to see which toe or finger is
raised or bent. This becomes very important after the repetitions get into
the thousands.
As to which direction I was going
when interrupted, this is shown by a
slight inclination of the digit involved in
the direction I was going.
So one complete circuit, around and
back, means 280 repetitions. Therefore a
super-circuit, which is 20 regular circuits
(one for each toe and finger) amounts
to 5,600 repetitions. Twenty supercircuits (one super-circuit for each toe
and finger) amounts to the grand total
of 112,000 repetitions, for anyone with
the will to go for it.
Footprints In The Sand, pp. 59-60
Bill Stephens: A Remembrance
from Patricia Nims
December 15, 2013
Bill was one of the sweetest people I
ever met. He put out the most wonderful love. He was always kind and gentle.
He never raised his voice. He had a wonderful wife and wonderful children, a lot
of them Baba lovers.
I got to take a couple of his workshops while at the Southeast Gathering
in Toccoa, GA. Bill was a good man and
one who we can all aspire to be like. Jai
Baba, Bill!
Marion Saunders
M
June 8 1937 – October 13 2013
arion was born in St
Margaret’s, Twickenham, near London.
She came to Baba around
1979; 2t was through a 'Don't
Worry be Happy' card, which
Alfred brought into the house
without realising its significance! She was treasurer for
the Meher Baba Association in
England for 20 years or so and
was also responsible for bringing many 'Speakers', from East
and West, to attend Sahavas
Gatherings.
She was very popular with
the women Mandali and made
many trips to Meherabad and
Meherazad from 1982 and onwards. Quite the traveler, she
also made several trips to Myrtle Beach, some accompanying
Delia de Leon, and attended
both the Northeast and Southeast Gatherings USA, as well as Avatar's
Abode, in Queensland, Australia in 1995.
Memories of Marion at the
London Centre
The day started exactly as Marion
would have wished: with arti followed
by the ‘Parvardigar’ film. Thus, the
scene was set for sharing. Keith Ashton
recounted how when Dr. Moorty had
telephoned from India, Marion had called
out “speak up” to him – then she realized she was actually talking into the TV
remote!!! We heard of Marion, enthusiastically swatting mosquitoes in her room
at Meherabad with a shrill and hearty
‘Jai Baba’ – much to the consternation
of the first timers. According
to Marion, Baba had ‘said’ that
if you take His name when you
kill a mosquito, it automatically
leaps up the evolutionary scale.
Marion was certainly a larger
than life character!
Rachel Dymond adds:
Marion will long be loved and
remembered for her kindness,
her compassion, her feistiness,
her singing, her cooking, her
generosity, her stubbornness,
her hospitality, her willingness
and her love for Alfred. Again
we heard how tirelessly Marion
worked for each Sahavas; of her
attention to detail and of her
enthusiasm. Bhauji once said
to Marion, ‘It doesn’t matter
what you think of yourself or
what others think of you; just
love Baba.’
Editor’s note: Marion and her
husband Alfred were known and loved by
Baba lovers around the world. Marion was
the “Hostess With the Mostest” when it
came to inviting Baba lovers who were
visiting England into their home. I remember decades ago I was privileged to spend
some days with them, and whilst there,
Marion took me to visit Delia de Leon –
shortly before Delia passed on.
Jeanette Maroulis
1936-2013
Barbara A. Roberts,
Colorado
O
n November 8, 2013
Je a n e t te Ma r o u l i s
went to Baba. Jeanette was
born in 1936 in New York City
to Greek immigrant parents.
At age 13, she was invited to
take ballet lessons. As she
caught on quickly, and had
obvious talent, this led to
her being admitted to the
New York High School for
the Performing Arts. While
there, she took classes from
one Margaret Craske at the
Metropolitan Opera Ballet
School. Jeanette, who had
Jeanette as the Mother of the Bride—her daughter Hilary O'Kelly
been a spiritual seeker
from an early age, became
interested in Meher Baba.
She, Miss Craske, and a
fellow student, Donald
Mahler, met and discussed
Baba together.
On July 23, 1956, Jeanette, who was dancing
in a company in upstate
New York, came down to
New York City on her day
off, and had a private interview with Baba and Margaret Craske. From that
divine embrace, Jeanette
held Baba in her heart
while pursuing her dancing
career, and later, marriage
61
and children.
In 2005, while
I was reading the
local Denver, Colorado newspaper at
lunch, I read an article which featured
an interview with a
woman in a retirement home. I saw
that she had danced
with the Metropolitan Opera. I immediately went to the
phonebook, looked
up her number and
dialed. When she answered, I said, "You Jeanette was in the corp de ballet of the Metropolitan Opera. Les Sylphides 1964-65. Photographer Louise Mélançon,
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Opera Archives
don't know me, but I
am friends with Margaret Craske." She dancing eyes. She would explain to me and knew Tex Hightower, Viola Farber,
quickly cut me off with "Is this about Miss Craske's teaching techniques as Zebra, and several other of the dancers
they applied to stretching exercises we in the Baba world.
Baba?!"
I know she is dancing now with Baba,
We remained friends from that mo- were both doing in the here and now.
ment on. A year or so later, I took her We went with the Baba group to a film and maybe reuniting with her teacher
to her first Baba meeting in fifty years about the Ballet Russe and listened and second mother, Margaret, but I miss
− we watched Baba films together, pre- as Jeanette recognized person after my friend in Baba so very much.
cious trapped moments in the past. She person featured in the movie. She was
would describe to me His very present paired with Donald Mahler at the Met,
_______________________________________________________________________________
Emory Ayers
E
December 23, 1928 – January 11, 2014
mory Daniel Ayers, 85,
passed away peacefully
in his home in Stonington,
Connecticut on Saturday
January 11, surrounded by
a prayerful circle of loving
family, friends, and clergy.
His death was due to complications from Parkinson’s
disease.
From an early age Emory
was interested in seeking
the Divine. He was active
in a number of churches
during his life including St.
Matthew’s Church, Wilton,
Connecticut where he served
on the Vestry and became
Warden. Emory studied with
Dr. Thomas Hora, Founder of
the New York Institute of Metapsychiatry
from 1979 until Dr. Hora’s passing in 1995.
We remember Emory first for his vision,
generous heart and spirit, quiet leadership,
guidance, support and encouragement.
As Emory was nearing the end of his
62
Susan and Emory Ayers
life Susan recalls him speaking of getting
closer and closer to Beloved Baba. Susan
also recalls the following:
In September, 2013, Emory was sitting
quietly and I asked him to describe what
he was experiencing; Emory said he was
praying and then said:
“There are many, many
dimensions to the Father
Man that God has given you.
Jai Baba! Just be. You are already there. You don’t need
anything. This state is indescribable.
Wonder − being − where
God lives.”
Emory is survived by Susan, his wife of 32 years; his
brother Fred and his wife Pat;
three children from his first
marriage to Alice Lowndes
Ayers: Daniel and spouse
Tony Seguino, Elizabeth Ayers Cabrera, Jonathan and
wife Heryun Kim Ayers, and
four grandchildren: Alice Marie Cabrera, Kimberly Danielle Ayers, Lauren
Juliet Ayers and Margaret Brooke Ayers.
If you wish to read Emory's obituary
please go to:
www.legacy.com/obituaries/theday/
obituary/EmoryAyers
Robert Rouse
27 September, 1930 - 12 Februrary, 2014
Bernard Bruford’s Eulogy at Avatar’s Abode, Australia
W
e all lost a great man last
Wednesday. Rada and
family lost their loving patriarch.
I lost my oldest, and best friend.
Over the years Robert and Lorna
became very much incorporated into Jo-Anne’s and my
extended family and were very
special to our three children
and my sister Joanna. Robert
always wanted to be abreast
of our joys and tribulations. We
will really miss his company, his
story-telling, his humour and his
wisdom. While his release from
his worn out body was a mixed
blessing I valued his intellect
which remained till the end.
My memories go back just
on 60 years but it was not till the end of
1958 that I really got to know Robert,
Lorna and Rada. Actually the Rouse and
Bruford families at that time had no
option but to get to know each other.
When Meher Baba returned to India after His four day stay at the property on
top of Kiel Mountain that He had named
Avatar’s Abode, both families received
from Him the instructions that He had
foreshadowed to us when here in June.
Both families were to move to Avatar’s
Abode, but in addition, the two families
– seven people – were to initially live in
the original old two bedroom farmhouse.
Baba had walked through the house and
into every room. So, we had a good 10
months getting to know each other while
the Bruford’s house was constructed.
Francis Brabazon, who had selected
and purchased the property and shouldered the responsibility of hosting Baba
and His Mandali for the visit, had received
different instructions: to join Baba in
India. While at Avatar’s Abode, Baba
asked Francis who owned the property
and Francis replied “You do, Baba." Baba
replied that He owned no goods or property and asked Francis to look after the
property for Him. So when Francis left
in early 1959 to go to India he delegated
his responsibility and made it clear that
Robert was to be in charge while he was
away. Although Francis thought it would
be for longer than his previous visits to
India, he still left with a return air ticket.
So Robert was in charge for nine
years with the associated responsibilities
until 1967, when Baba directed that the
property be transferred to Bill Le Page
and then to a trust. The present Trust
was formed in 1984 and Robert served
as part of the team of directors, and as
treasurer of the Trust from 1985 till 2001
when Lorna’s health made it appropriate
for him to resign. He looked after her with
loving devotion till her death in 2004.
For me, an enthusiastic 16 year old,
in 1958 the new adventure began. Lots
of routine things to be learnt and done
with no electricity or gas, and often a
shortage of water. Robert allocated me
different jobs. Wood to be cut for the
stove for cooking and heating water
and while Robert gave me some hints on
how to gather and chop wood, it was not
hints enough. It was summer time with
lots of rain – my meagre stockpile of cut
dry wood quickly ran out. Robert made
it abundantly clear to me that he was
not impressed that I had not allowed for
weeks of rain.
Another job he allocated me was
emptying our outdoor earth dunny-can
[toilet] – after having first dug a suitable
hole. We took turns with this job! Robert
also patiently showed me how to take
on milking duties which we also shared.
He then introduced me to repairing
the cow fences. It was only later that I
realised that my new teacher
had of necessity been himself
a raw pupil just a few months
previously.
Some evenings in those early
years there was the highlight
of Robert sharing long awaited
letters from Francis in India.
Some had the salutation of
Avatar Abiders and some were
for wider distribution. Lorna
later typed copies but Robert
always shared immediately the
handwritten originals.
In June 1960 at the second anniversary celebration of Baba’s
stay, Robert directed and acted
in the first play performed at
Avatar’s Abode, “The Bridge”
written by Francis. During most
anniversary programmes in the
1960s Robert would play the guitar and
sing, and often requests would be the
song “Meeting at the Building Soon be
Over” which he also sang before Baba
in 1958.
Starting in the early ‘60s Robert and
I both did some paid farm labouring
work – mainly with pineapples. In those
days an eight hour day went from 7:30
till 5 – no pay for smoke or lunch breaks.
Part time farm labouring gave us both
practical experience in farming and also
provided urgently needed extra funds.
As an only child, Robert was ready to
play an increasing role in his father’s successful business until 1958. His parents
regarded Robert and Lorna’s interest
and devotion to Baba as a kind of quirky
hobby which did not affect the important
issues. But the sudden and unexpected
move from Sydney to Avatar’s Abode put
initial strain on the parent-son relationship. A car could not be afforded – their
daughter Rada began first grade as a five
year old walking a considerable distance
to the Woombye School. Robert’s work
required him walking to and from work.
How tough it was for Robert and his
family in these initial years at the Abode
is part of the history that has never been
written and seldom voiced.
While some harvests of pineapples
and paw paws went well for Robert, all
too often there were the difficulties such
as dry weather, wallabies enjoying a good
63
feed, or the market price of beans and
cucumbers crashing just before harvest
time. Farming was a tough job for the
inexperienced just at a time when large
scale production using lots of chemicals
was becoming a necessity for viable endeavours. Robert was also paying half
the maintenance costs including rates
for the property.
Last year in an audio recording session I asked Robert, “Did you ever have
thoughts that pleasing the Godman was
a very tough business? You did it tough
when you came up here!”
His answer was, “Sometimes, yeah
– and that’s probably why, at the EastWest Gathering, when Baba was greeting
people with ‘How’s your cold, don’t come
near Baba, did you have a good night’s
sleep?’ etc., out of the blue, and in front
of the Americans and Australians – He
suddenly looked at me and said ‘Robert!
Never even think of leaving Avatar’s
Abode.’ And I bet you nobody else heard
that. It was in front of about 100 people,
but it was for me, and of course it made
up for all the difficulties.”
Lorna and Robert played a significant
role hosting and mentoring many of the
younger ones who visited here – particularly in those hippy years from the
mid ‘60s. Robert and I often discussed
Avatar’s Abode – reminiscing about the
past as well as discussing the present,
and speculating on the future. Always a
relevant topic was how so many of the
contributors are now noticeably aging
– even if we are mostly pretty good at
hiding this reality. Robert usually had very
definite views on controversial topics. For
example, Robert felt caretakers in the
future should live on the property. His
recorded words on this are: “What’s the
point of them living elsewhere. How can
they give their all? They are here 24/7 so
they see what’s going on. It may not be
necessary right now, but you’ve got to
start making moves now.” Robert and
Lorna knew so much about giving and
sharing their all.
Robert had to be dragged into the
computer age and his book The Water
Carrier was one end result. This venture
started as a series of articles written for
the Meher Baba Australia newsletter.
With each section handwritten, he would
come to me with each article to be word
processed­—I soon learned to restrict
my comments and queries about his
unique style and use or non use of capital
64
letters and unusual
phrasing. After all he
had previously been
employed as a proof
reader and he definitely knew what he
wanted. I was using a
rather sophisticated
word processor and
Robert became emphatic that he would
never be able to embrace computers.
This problem ended
by my changing to
a much simpler program which he used
when he obtained
a computer. Robert
self published these
Lorna, Robert and Rada Rouse, 1963
combined writings
into a booklet titled The Making of a Book tankstand – because we didn’t have a
which has a lot of background to Francis’ bathroom. He’d head upstairs into our
epic Stay With God. These initial writings tiny house with its bare wooden floors
later became one of the four chapters and no carpet (now fashionable!), maybe
of The Water Carrier. I suspect there is crank up the record player and suddenly
more unpublished material on his hard we’d have Leadbelly belting out The Middrive which Rada and Brad are yet to night Special or some caterwauler from
investigate.
the slums of Spain strumming up a storm
Robert tells in his book how he had while Mum cooked a vegetarian curry with
suggested to Francis the idea of making loads of garlic, tumeric and ginger on a
Stay with God a non-journalistic piece. wood- fuelled stove. No chops and three
Baba had ordered the book under that veges there.
title which was to reflect on what Francis
We’d listen to the ABC (Australian
had seen and heard at the 1955 Indian Broadcast Company) news on the wireSahavas programme. In the first few years less. And after dinner Dad might read a
after Francis left for India in 1959, Robert book – and here’s where we get “Not
was often kept busy researching obscure Normal," or “Not Usual." He might select
references. Robert led the team of proof something like- and I quote from his bookreaders for the original manuscripts. shelf – Man and His Becoming – According
It certainly has been a privilege having to the Vedanta, by Rene Guenon, or maybe
had our dear Robert as a neighbour and Edo Painting: Sotatsu and Korin by Hiroshi
friend.
Mizuro. Then next day it’d be off to the
pineapple patch and chatting to the boys
Memories of My Dad and Our Life about the potholes in the road. He was a
intellectual surrounded by rednecks.
at Avatar’s Abode, Australia
It was “normal” to go to the movies
Rada Rouse
at the Vogue Theatre in Nambour, as we
Dad was an unconventional man who did. And in the 1960s before the feature
lived an unconventional life. Mostly I started, it was normal for the National Anthought that was a bad thing when I was them – then God Save the Queen – to be
growing up – I desperately wanted to be played. The entire cinema would rise to its
“normal." In the Woombye community feet. But one bloke stayed firmly seated – I
it WAS normal to have a father who was used to cringe with embarrassment, but
a farm labourer, who slogged through later of course admired his Republican
hot summers on the hillsides picking sentiments.
pineapples. But it was when he came
Dad as a kid: He was pretty young
home that things looked different to most when he would let himself out of the
households. He’d have a cold shower by house before sunrise and run to meet
standing under a tap rigged up inside a the horse and cart bearing the milkman.
And he’d ride around the streets with the
milkman in the dark, and they’d stop at
a bakery before it opened to get a fresh
pastry and loop back to Dad’s street when
the sun came up. He continued his independence at Randwick Boys High School,
sneaking out during the boring bits to
scoot down to his favourite record store
and check out the latest imported American jazz records. I remember Dad saying
that in his senior high school year he got
98% for chemistry and 3% for Latin – so we
know which classes he skipped...
Dad was unconventional politically too.
I’m pretty sure he didn’t vote and didn’t
pay taxes in the early days in Queensland.
He and Mum, before they knew each
other, had fallen in with the Sydney Push in
the ‘50s, a loose movement of libertarians
who lived for intellectual discourse and
loved a party – they were into free love,
and freedom from censorship; they were
anti-authoritarian, anti-government. They
included academics from the University of
Sydney, manual workers and art students.
Most had “straight” day jobs but there
were a lot of creative people. Much later
luminaries of the push included Germaine
Greer and Clive James. There’s a good
book on the Push called Sex and Anarchy
– which sums it up.
Now, Dad’s association with the Push
was pivotal to the direction his life would
take. A leading light of this group, was
Darcy Waters, who apart from introducing
Dad to Mum at the Lincoln Café in Sydney
also indirectly led Dad to Baba. Darcy’s
brother Edgar became a good friend
of Dad’s. It turned out that Edgar knew
someone who had some rare American
blues records. Edgar was about to head
off overseas and he had a book by Inayat
Khan which he had to return to the man
with all the records. Trouble is this bloke
lived right out at Beacon Hill, which was
basically the bush back then. Dad said
he’d return the book because it would
give him an opportunity to ask if he could
hear these rare recordings (which were
of Leadbelly).
Edgar warned him the bloke was a bit
unusual and recently into God, in fact a
bit of a God-botherer. But undaunted,
Dad borrowed his father’s car and he and
Mum set off for the wilds of the northern
beaches. They couldn’t find the house,
the address Edgar gave him, and after
driving aimlessly around were about to
give up when ahead they saw a woman
walking up the hill. Mum said “let’s ask
her” [And this story always reminds me
of that book “Why Men Don‘t Listen and
Women Can’t Read Maps”] Dad always
told this story in a self-deprecating way.
He was saying to Mum “why do you think
some random woman would know exactly
where this bloke that we’re looking for
lives." But Mum insisted, so Dad slowed
the car, asked her for directions, and the
woman said “Yes I’m going to that address
right now!” It was May Lundqvist [who
eventually became one of the builders of
Avatar’s Abode.]
When they arrived there was a woman
with a cigarette hanging out of the side of
her mouth, ironing shirts – that was Clarice
Adams. Then, Dad recalls, “out came a
stocky little man in shorts, work boots and
no shirt," who was very welcoming - it was
Francis Brabazon and that, as Dad put it,
was “the start of a lifelong friendship."
It was also the start of an entirely
new life. Dad had worked in insurance
and in his father’s gemstone import and
export company in Sydney after leaving
school and into his early 20s. Moving to
Queensland to learn how to farm – with
your livelihood depending on it and with
an 18 month old child was big enough. But
having your life – and I mean every aspect
of your personal life – directed from India
was something else. It was not a walk in
the park, and it was not without consequences. It placed enormous stress on
mentally fragile people like my mum. So I
don’t romanticise this period.
Lucky for me Dad was a nurturing kind
of person. He could be dogmatic, he could
be domineering, he could get really angry,
he was capable of maintaining feuds with
people, and nothing good ever comes of
that. But he was a loving man. He really
looked after Mum all through her life. He
smoothed a path for her whenever he
could. He was her rock as he was mine.
And just to digress, when Mum slipped
into dementia, he taught himself to cook,
he selflessly looked after her with very
little outside help as her physical condition
degenerated and he was determined to
ensure they were not parted until the end.
But back to the chronology. Dad
struggled with farming and eventually
got various jobs in town in Nambour. He
liked working at Ian L. Jones’s record store
– even if most people wanted Mantovani
or the Tijuana Brass or some easy listening crooner. One of the things Dad liked
about being in the shop was he could play
music all day – not his music necessarily,
but contemporary music that the young
shoppers would relate to. He liked Joe
Cocker, the Beatles, Van Morrison, and we
heard the soundtrack to Easy Rider over
and over again. Music was so important to
his life and it was incredibly varied. I grew
up listening to Mississippi Delta blues,
black American spirituals, Pete Seeger and
the Weavers and to Dad himself singing
old American folk and protest songs . He
would tape interesting music off the radio,
so it was very sad when he became deaf
and couldn’t distinguish the notes or listen
to Radio National or his CD collection any
more. It really took one of the joys out of
his life.
Dad and I shared the same kind of
humour. We would always listen to the
Goon show. He loved hearing the adlibs
from Peter Sellers or Spike Milligan. I
think as much as I enjoyed listening to the
Goon show I also enjoyed Dad enjoying
it. Laughing until tears ran down his face
and sometimes he would double up in a
paroxysm of mirth. He loved Monty Python too. In later years when I’d come up
from Brisbane, after mum died, he loved
reading bits out of the paper that he found
funny or clever and he’d save me cartoons,
particularly if it was a stinging caricature
of some politician.
Dad loved words. He did the newspaper crossword daily. He loved poetry,
and he devoured books about the English
language. Even when we had little money
there would always be books. Even in the
last three months in the nursing home Dad
would do the newspaper crossword every
day. Dad had multiple myeloma but lots
more was going wrong. One of the hospital discharge sheets listed 30 different
medical conditions, but it was heart failure
that eventually got him. Dad couldn’t do
much for himself in the end, and he and I
had fantastic support from everyone.
When I was a child I loved Dad reading
to me at bedtime, and after that night’s
chapter from Alice in Wonderland or Wind
in the Willows, he’d say “nighty-night." We
always used to say “nighty-night” rather
than “good night." We’ve done that all
our lives... in his last few months he’d
often nod off in his chair and I’d go to bed
and read. And then I’d hear him wake up
and clatter around and he’d see the glow
of light from under my door and he’d
sing out “nighty-night” and I’d yell back
“nighty-night...so, for the last time, Dad,
it’s “nighty-night."
65
Howard Schwartz
Marie Rhodes:
I just got a phone call
with the news that a
dear, long-time friend of
mine had died. Howard
Schwartz crossed over
at about 4:30pm today
[Feb. 26, 2014]. He was
being read Sufi poetry at
the time of his passing.
It seemed he had a light
stroke. Twenty minutes
before that he said some
light rubbing on the chest
felt good.
Howard was a longtime Baba Lover. I first
met him back in the mid70s. His great love was
music and his cat. In fact
all animals and nature he
had greatly loved. He was
such a gentle soul, and this world was very
difficult for him to fit into. He had so much
compassion for others and saw it so much
lacking in the lives of so many people. So
maybe a random act of kindness in his
memory would be a gift he would love
from the other side.
Happy Trails to you, my dear brother
Howard. Those who love are never separate. May you have the peace your heart
has so longed for. I feel no sadness at
your crossing; it has been such a long time
coming. I know our Beloved was there to
greet you and welcome you home.
All kind words and loving thoughts for
Howard would be helpful to him on the
other side. Sing a happy song − I know
he would like that. Give some love to an
animal and say Howard would just love
you. I know he is there watching. Those
we love are always around us. He had
many friends who loved him. His music
and his love was felt in the hearts of many.
Karen Talbot:
Howie was actually a child actor. He
was the bar mitzvah boy in Marjorie Morningstar. He taught sociology at Harvard. I
remember him saying, ‘I wanted to come
to be in this incarnation with Meher Baba,
so I took anybody I could be given. He felt
this explained the physical suffering he
endured since an early age.
Ann O’Neil:
I knew Howard back in the 70’s, when
we were all young and living in Berkeley.
66
May 6, 1943- Feb. 26, 2014
haven’t seen him in over 40
years but I haven’t forgotten him either.
More from Marie
Rhodes:
I liked him very much and had lost touch
with him when I moved to the East Coast
in 1976. Howard was one of the people
that I always remembered; he had a big
reel to reel tape player in the back seat
of his car because he enjoyed music
so much. And I knew he suffered with
Crohn’s disease, though he wouldn’t talk
about it very much.
A year ago I tried to see him again
when I was visiting out here, but I could
tell he was very hesitant. Perhaps he was
too ill. But he is one of the people I will
never forget.
Bob Ahrens:
I knew Howard for a year around 1971,
when I was a student at Harvard. He had
just arrived and was teaching a somewhat non-conformist sociology course,
which I took. This was a year or so after
demonstrations had shut the university
down and there was an unusual receptivity to things unusual. Howard had a
very understated sense of humor which
students loved, along with his obvious
humility in his role.
In Baba meetings in Cambridge, Howard played the guitar and sang—very
softly—and liked to poke holes in any
pretension that he perceived arising in a
discussion. He was an excellent guitarist.
My take-home impression of Howard
was of an unusual man, given over to
Baba, shy yet thrust into the limelight,
with a sly, self-deprecating humor. I
Dear Howard,
I just wish you knew
how much you are Loved,
how much you are cared
about. Words just are no
way to express it. But my
heart in silence does.
You have been pivotal
in my life in knowing someone who is truly beautiful.
Your heart, your soul, your
music your love for others,
your love for God, and your
compassion all have added
to my own life without
measure. For me I measure
my life by love by how much I can extend
it moment by moment. In this moment I
give to you that love with all my heart in
hopes you can receive it. It is what is eternal. It is GOD in me loving the GOD in You.
You are now gone from this illusion.
Thank God that for you there is no more
pain. I feel such depth of sadness at your
departure and yet the greatest of joy for
your freedom from your years of earthly
bondage.
Here is an experience I would like to
share. I knew Howard a long time when
I had this experience. It may help explain
why he was so special to me.
One morning I was getting ready to
go for a walk. I had just put on my tennis
shoes and bent to tie them. Suddenly I
was out of my body back into the very
beginning of time. In a place where we
were one heart.
Then the heart split into two. I went
in one direction and he in another. A
helix formed. We fell through it. We then
passed through one lifetime after another. We had come through time, through
eternity together.
This experience did not even last a full
minute. I deeply believe that all who love
are not separated ever from each other
or from God.
Life is love and LOVE is GOD. Thank you
Beloved Baba for sharing this Beautiful,
Holy Son of Yours with me.
Jenny Zenner
November 2, 1949 - May 10, 2014
J
From Sue Jamison
enny was born in Riverside County California
and died in her home in
Little River, South Carolina
near the Meher Center. She
is survived by Craig Zenner,
her husband of 17 years, and
their dog Huckleberry, who
Jenny loved very much.
She first heard about
Baba while at Emory University when Charles Haynes
gave a talk. She immediately connected with Baba
and was one of the original
Atlanta Baba group. She
lived in San Francisco in the
early 80's and was a beloved
member of the Baba community there. She moved
to Myrtle Beach in 1987 and
worked in the Dilruba office.
Wendy Haynes Connor
writes:
Jenny, Baba’s “Laughing Bird” (the nickname
Mani gave her), took flight
at 1:22 pm this afternoon
[Saturday, May 10, 2014]
to embrace her true Beloved. Her longing to serve
Meher Baba inspired her
daily efforts to love Him as
He should be loved and to
please Him as He should
pleased.
Two weeks ago, Jenny
began composing a new
song.* These two lines
came to her: “There’s a
song in my heart waiting
to be sung. Don’t strive for
perfection, let it all run.” The
day before Jenny’s brother left town, he
was reminding Jenny of the song and
trying to get the words just right. Struggling a bit, he said, “She’s still working on
it”— at that moment, with eyes closed,
Jenny smiled for him and began saying
the words aloud. And what a perfect
Beloved is our Beloved to give this precious soul an inner message—a final gift
in this most blessed of lifetimes—to let
her know that He understood all. In the
eternal love of the One who now holds
Jenny in His eternal embrace. *Many of you will remember the song
Jenny wrote in 1968 soon after she first
heard Baba’s name through Charles
(Haynes) at Emory University:
Don’t worry, be happy
Meher Baba loves us all.
Illusions are many,
but underneath them all
is one Reality, that you and I are one,
and God is Love and Love is God
and God and man are one.
Jenny lived with our
family for 3 years until she
moved to Myrtle Beach in
1989. She was working in
San Francisco at that time
and was often tired after a
long day of work and fighting the traffic home, but
always had a smile and big
kisses for our children, who
knew her as “Auntie Jenny."
She agonized over
whether to move to Myrtle
Beach, but finally decided
that was her destiny and
started to make plans. Everything was falling into
place except getting rid
of her car. It was a yellow
Volkswagon Golf and had
many miles on it and many
bumps. The choices were
to drive it across country,
(which was immediately
rejected), trade it in for
something that would make
it across country (this, too,
was discounted), or sell it.
These were the days when
there was no Craigslist or Internet to sell a car quickly so
it meant an ad in the paper
or word of mouth in order
to sell anything, particularly
a car.
This indecision about
what to do about the damn
car was making Jenny crazy
and nothing seemed to be
the right decision.
One night around 3:00 in
the morning, there was urgent knocking on our door. We opened
it to find 3 policemen looking very concerned. We live in a safe neighborhood
where crime is not common but does
happen, so we were anxious to know
what they were going to tell us.
They asked if the yellow car belonged
to us. We said that it belonged to our
friend and we would wake her up. They
told us that a drunk driver had come
down the street the wrong way and hit
Jenny’s car side on and pushed it into our
67
yard —the car was completely wrecked.
No damage to anything else or anyone.
This has NEVER happened before to our
knowledge, and certainly, not since. Of
course, there were other cars parked
on the street but it was only Jenny’s car
that was hit.
Jenny came outside, and when she
saw what had happened she started
laughing hysterically and crying out “Oh,
thank you, Baba! Thank you, Baba!” I can
still see the look on the cop’s face as this
woman in pajamas and fuzzy slippers
was laughing and crying out to—who
or what? Baba???—with no apparent
distress about her car being totaled.
Of course, the insurance company
paid her out and even though it was not
a lot of money it certainly took away the
stress of what to do with her car.
It was such an obvious answer from
Baba and for me showed how God does
listen and will answer your inner prayers
if it is right for your development and
journey towards Him, even if it was
getting rid of a car! Meher Baba loves
Jenny very much. Myrtle Beach was her
destiny indeed.
Reading of Baba’s “True Love”
Quote, May 15, 2014
Janet: “Wendy and I have had the
joy of being Jenny’s friend since 1970
when we met in Atlanta. I would like to
share something that Jenny said to one
of her dearest friends, Barbara Katzenberg, two weeks ago. Jenny confided
that, as early as January 2013, she had
a premonition that she had only a short
time left. She told Barbara, “Maybe if
I have an illness, it will somehow help
others.” And that is exactly what has
happened—through Jenny’s illness, we
have come together wholeheartedly—
and, through our shared love for her,
we have been given the opportunity to
serve our Beloved in the way that would
make Jenny happy.”
A Tale of Two Posters—from Brian Narelle
Years ago Jenny and I flew back to SF together from the LA Sahavas. We’d both
purchased large two-color posters of Baba; the ones you used to see tacked up on
phone poles from time to time. Not wanting to fold them and lacking any sort of
protective tube we both elected to walk around holding them in front of us. People
must have thought ,“What’s up with this cult?”
At any rate, we finally arrived at SFO and grabbed a cab into the city, still clutching the posters in front of us in the back of the cab. The absurdity of all this was not
lost on me and finally, while stopped at a red light, I asked Jenny, “When are we
going to wean ourselves
from these posters?”
Just then I looked up
and spotted the car that
was stopped in front of us.
Its license plate read TO
WEAN.
That’s the sort of thing
that just shuts you right
up…except for a quick “Jai
Baba.”
(Wendy): “Janet and I would like to
read one of Meher Baba’s most beautiful quotes because it was one of Jenny’s
favorites. We read it to Jenny two days
before she passed. When we finished,
I told her “This is you, Jenny.” (Wendy) “Love is essentially self
communicative: those who do not have
it catch it from those who have it.
(Janet): “True Love is unconquerable and irresistible, and it goes on gathering itself until eventually it transforms
everyone whom it touches.”
From Ricky Califf:
The last time I saw Mani, the year
she went to Baba, she came to the bus
window when I was leaving Meherazad
and sang Jenny’s song from beginning
to end—then reached up to take my arm
and said, “Tell our dear Jenny that her
Meherazad family always remembers
her, and sends her our love.”
Kabir Says —
Everyone says, “I am dying,”
but none of them die.
Only he who is dead before dying has
not to die again.
These are the words of Kabir.
Die such a death that you will not have
to die again.
Die, all of you, in the real sense of the
word, so you may live ever after.
The stopping of breath and the
absence of pulse are not real dying.
It is no use letting your earthly body
die; all your desires and longings
should die.
That is, seek out the death of maya
[illusion] first and become
sanskara-less.
Then alone you will have died the real
death and have been born
into eternity.
68
My Friend Phil Cowans
January 1, 1935 - July 7, 2013
Dorothy Weiss, Florida
F
or 42 years I was always in awe of
my friend Phil. He was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming. His parents moved to
Miami Beach when Phil was 9. This was
to be home for the rest of his life. I first
met Phil at the Baba meetings on Key
Biscayne, given by Bill and Peggy Stephens. Those were great meetings, in
the early ’70′s. Phil had this great swagger about
him, he had beautiful wavy hair and
liked to go and dance the Mambo in
the clubs in downtown Miami. But
his most memorable experience was
meeting Meher Baba at the East-West
gathering. He talked of that meeting
with a sadness because of pushing Baba
away from their embrace. After a while
I told Phil that Baba knew he was going
to do that, and the results ended with
Phil being cracked like a coconut, all
the water spilled out, and it was most
likely spiritually necessary. Phil got to the
Gathering on money he borrowed from
Harry Kenmore, which was paid back, as
Baba had told him to pay off all his debts.
There was much correspondence between Baba and Phil, but unfortunately
he didn’t save any of it. The only physical thing he did save was his Air India
ticket dated October 25, 1962, which I
still have along with his birth and death
certificates. I have so many stories of
my experiences with Phil and they are
all wonderful. Maybe one day they will
get told.
Dorothy and Phil
A Remembrance
P
hil Cowans was one of the pioneer
American Baba-lovers of my generation, one who had the good fortune to
correspond with Meher Baba. Because
he lived practically as a recluse in his Miami Beach home, his name may not be
recognized by many Baba-lovers. But he
was a dear, and his one-pointed devotion
to Meher Baba an inspiration! Phil came to
Baba in the early ‘60s through Irwin Luck.
The story, as told me by Phil and confirmed
by Irwin is one of those great Baba tales
that simply leave you aware that the Beloved can do anything to draw a destined
one into His orbit!
Phil and Irwin were both in the Air
Force Reserve, and they had to go away
to a Reserve weekend. They did not know
one another. One day at the Mess Hall, Phil
noticed that a young man getting up from
the table had a note on a piece of paper
that was pinned to his back! Curious, Phil
walked up behind the young man to read
what it said. The note said: “I am being
silent today as a spiritual observance.”
The next day, Phil saw this same young
man, sans note. Phil approached him
and said, “I saw the note on your back
Max Reif, Northern California
yesterday that said you were being silent
as a spiritual observance. What was the
occasion?” And Irwin’s reply was: “What
note?” Baba of course had somehow
caused Phil to see what was not literally
(in Illusion) there! The connection forged
by this experience led to Irwin’s telling Phil
about Meher Baba, and to Phil’s falling in
love with Baba, too.
Phil was one of the small number of
Westerners to attend the East-West Gathering in November, 1962. This passage
from Lord Meher conveys a sense of the
power and intimacy of Phil’s face-to-face
encounters with the God-Man: “Like
several Americans who met Meher Baba
for the first and only time at the East-West
Gathering, Phil Cowans, a young man in
his twenties, had memorable encounters.
When he first went to embrace Baba, Baba
held on to him tightly for a long time, so
tightly that Cowans actually felt that he
was being crushed by Him and that he was
about to lose his life! Gasping, with all his
strength, he pushed Baba away. Baba did
not convey anything, and Cowans walked
back to his seat in tears. However, that experience of feeling Baba’s power, of being
crushed by it, never left Cowans’ memory.
On another day after the Darshan, Phil
Cowans found himself all alone with Baba.
Cowans spoke; Baba listened. It had to
do with sex and women. Baba gestured
in reply and Cowans told Him he did not
understand a word from His hand signs.
Then Baba got Eruch to come over and
convey His words: “Don’t worry about this
problem. Baba will help you with this.” (vol.
18, p. 5994)
I first met Phil in 1978 when my aboutto-be wife, Barbara Waxman, took me to
Phil’s home to meet him. He told me a bit
about his meeting with Baba, as well as
the fact that he owed some money and at
a certain point Baba would not allow Phil
to correspond with Him until the debt was
paid off. Phil also told me about his job as
a freelance mechanic, specializing in Corvettes. He worked on these upscale cars in
the driveway of his small house. He told an
anecdote about going out to the driveway
one morning, starting up a Corvette, and
listening to the engine hum...and then
opening the hood, only to find that there
WAS no engine! “Baba was playing with
me!” Phil said. It was a little ‘out there,’ but
I have my own little treasury of “extreme
(personal) Baba stories,” and I knew very
well that Baba could and it seemed occasionally DID “play with” His lovers in that
way, as part of His Leela.
Lord Meher Entries About Phil Cowans:
All You Need To Know! (vol. 18, p. 6025)
Irwin and Edward Luck and Phil Cowans
were lingering by the door after everyone
had filed out. They, too, turned to leave
when all of a sudden Baba snapped his
fingers loudly. They turned and looked at
him, and he gestured, “Remember, I am
God in human form.” Again, they turned to
go. Baba snapped his fingers and repeated,
“Remember, I am God in human form!
That is all you need to know!” and then He
motioned for them to leave.
(vol. 19, p. 6267) While in seclusion, on
July 29th, 1962, Baba sent this telegram
to Phil Cowans of Miami Beach, Florida:
“Don’t worry, my love will help you be happy. Remember me.“ Then later, on August
15th, 1962, Baba had this message sent to
Phil in a letter: “Know that the paramount
need more than Self-Realization is simply
the friendship of a God-Realized Master
gotten by resigning yourself completely
to his will. The more you clean your heart
of otherness – the more you will love. My
Love Blessing to you. Baba in seclusion.”
(Cowans soon after met Baba at the EastWest Gathering, November, 1962.)
(vol. 19, p. 6277) In America, Phil Cowans was having problems with a young lady
with whom he gotten involved. Although
she felt love and affection for Phil, she
would not accept Meher Baba. Phil wrote
to Baba about this, and on June 15th, 1964,
Baba through Eruch replied: “Baba wants
me to convey to you that you are not only
to curtail your relationship with girl in question but to abrogate it. And it is about time
that you became enticed by your love for
the Real Beloved – Baba – which is the true
search for a genuine aspirant.”
Phil Cowans’ problems with women
continued and he felt confused whether
or not he should marry. He wrote Baba
about this, and in July, 1964, Baba through
Adi K. Irani replied: “Marriage does not
interfere with man’s loving God. Whether
you get married or stay single is of little
importance. What is important is that you
love and obey me. Love, Blessings. Baba
in seclusion.” In another letter through
Adi, Baba advised Phil Cowans: “The girl
of your choice should accept Baba at least;
otherwise, you would be diverted from the
goal of life!”
Meher Baba on Death
T
he greatest warriors, scientists, doctors and astrologers, without exception, have to bow to nature’s common
law, death. If you have love for the dead,
it should be selfless. The dead do not want
your expression of sadness. Manifest such
love for them that they would be pleased
and at peace. If you want the consciousness of their souls to progress, express
selfless love. Do not make them unhappy
by your weeping and wailing.
He who is convinced that after death
there is birth again never worries or sorrows. What is the use of sorrowing over
dried up crops in the field? By dying after
death, and thereby annihilating the mind,
you will gain both worlds. Otherwise it is
a never-ending cycle of taking birth and
dying. There is no escape. It is a matter of
luck, fate.
What can we do when our last day
dawns? It is not in our hands, so what can be
done? We all have to go one day. So what is
the sense of weeping? One can do nothing
except submit to God’s will.
A person dies when his sanskaras are
exhausted, spent in full. After a person dies,
his sanskaras snap the mind’s connection
with the Gross body. And at that time he
receives such a shock that he forgets every
incident of his past life. But, even though
the Gross body drops, the mind and the
Subtle body remain full of sanskaras.
For the next forty to seventy hours
after death, the attention of the sanskaras
is centered mostly on the place where the
body is kept. But, after that, there is no
connection whatsoever between the dead
person and that place.
Within the next eight or ten days, the
spirit of the dead person experiences the
Subtle state of either heaven or hell, according to his sanskaras.
After a person dies, many people perform rites and ceremonies for a long time.
But all these are useless. No ritual is necessary after ten days. However, the best rites
would be to feed either dogs or crows near
the body, because they have Subtle sight
and can see the spirit of the dead person.
Crows and dogs are not Subtle conscious,
but they have Subtle faculties of perception, and draw towards themselves the
sanskaras of dead people.
You eat food, and to keep yourselves
healthy and fit, you pass out the residue
as excrement. But do you ever shed tears
for the waste you eliminate? Do you ever
think about it, or feel regret over it? Not at
all. Then, if someone dear dies, why do you
weep for that discarded body, which is like
food to the soul?
You preserve and protect your body to
feed your soul. The body is the medium for
the soul’s progress. When your excrement
is eliminated, you eat fresh food. Similarly,
with the disposal of the old body, you take
a new body. So why worry and weep over
that which is the law of nature and cannot
be altered?
Sadgurus and the Avatar consider human death to be absolutely unimportant.
They do not feel sad about anyone’s death.
For them, the whole universe is a very, very
small thing, a small point. The human body
can be compared to the fibers on the outer
shell of a coconut. Hundreds of such hairs
fall off, but the coconut water remains
safe inside. Similarly, thousands of human
bodies may fall, but the soul is immortal. It
never dies. It is always living and eternal.
In sound sleep, there is consciousness
but no ego, while in the state of death,
there is consciousness plus ego. After
the death of the physical body, the soul
remains, together with the limited ego,
the mind, and the Subtle body. Only the
outer garment has been left behind. From
one to three days, the Subtle retains its
connection with the Gross body, but never
longer than that.
Four days after death, the Astral body
rises up to gain pleasure or pain according
to its good or bad actions in physical life.
When the store of virtue (poonya) and vice
(paap) is exhausted, the soul, in accordance
with the faint impress of the sanskaras,
takes another Gross body - that is, is reborn
in the physical world - which process goes
on until the soul is freed from the chains of
birth and death.
Children's Page: Diary of a Fairy Godmother
Nicole Mendoza, Los Angeles (10 years old)
1/17/10, Sunday
Hi, my name is Rose, Rose Fairydust. I
know it sounds weird but that’s only
because I’m a fairy Godmother . . . or at
least training to be one. Sounds cool—
right? Think again. The most boring thing
in all of Dreamland is what I do. Oh yeah,
Dreamland is hidden behind the North
Star. That’s the reason it’s so bright, because of all the magic hiding right behind
it. Anyway back to the Fairy Godmother
Academy. Even the name sounds boring!
The one good thing is that the school is
so pointless it doesn’t have homework...
but that’s not how my mom put it. She’s
the principal at my ‘school’. The reason
she says there is no homework is because
young fairies need to spend their free
time doing other ‘magical’ things.
I spend my free time at the Pet Olympics! I enter every week with my talking
pet cat. Her name is Isabelle and she’s
amazing! Together we’ve won ten Olympics out of the 25 I’ve entered so far. That’s
made a really good impression on Prince
Bob and Princess Terry. They attend every
game, even though their mother, Queen
Hannah forbade them to. Their father,
King Michael was fine with it, because
he’s one of those guys who just goes with
the flow, but I hear Queen Hannah has a
mean evil eye. I think Prince Bob secretly
roots for me at the Pet Olympics!!! Oh
the thought makes my heart beat faster.
Sorry, he’s just sooo dreamy! Um...anyway, forget I said that.
Back to Dreamland. All the fairies In
Dreamland are worried. I mean you would
be too, if you knew that the very thing
your house was built on was dwindling
down to nothing. You see, Dreamland’s
very existence runs on the power of children’s dreams. But kids have begun to
stop dreaming. My mom says it's because
the moving pictures on all the screens
they stare at are messing up their ability
to have dreams. Speaking of my mom,
she hates my doing the Pet Olympics
even though she loves Isabelle. One of
the reasons she does is because Isabelle
can talk, so she tells her to spy on me and
make sure I don’t do anything she qualifies
as bad—such as the Pet Olympics. Fortunately for me, Isabelle likes doing the Pet
Olympics so she kind of . . . well let’s say
she ‘forgets’ to tell my mom about that
little detail. She hasn’t found out so far,
but mom still rants on and on about
how the Olympics are so dangerous.
I mean, it’s not something a little fairy
dust can’t heal! All you have to do is
train your pet to go though a series of
obstacle courses that light on fire at any
moment! Well now that I think about it,
maybe it is just a little bit dangerous...
but so what! Oh no—there’s my mom,
telling me I have to go to bed to get
ready for ‘school’ tomorrow so I better go. Bye!
1/18/10, Monday
Oh, I hate Mondays. Well, for the
usual reasons, like it being the start of
a new school week, but particularly for
me because every Monday we take a
test about everything we learned last
week. I usually fail these tests because I
don’t listen during class. Today was really
hard because you were tested on why it
was a good idea to pursue having a career
in fairy Godmothering. I couldn’t think of
anything. That’s another thing I don’t like
about my mom. She is always pressuring
me to try and be something I’m not. I don’t
want to learn to be a fairy Godmother. I
want to grow up to be a veterinarian, like
the ones who stand on the sides of the Pet
Olympics to make sure no pet gets hurt
too bad. Mom doesn’t understand me like
Isabelle does. I told her about this earlier
and she told me that I could just tell her
what I’m feeling, but I’m not a complete
idiot. It would break my mom's heart if I
told her I didn’t want to be a fairy Godmother, especially when I’m training at
the school where she works. I remember
when I learned my first spell—she almost
cried with happiness. She bragged about
me to her friends for weeks afterward. I
was excited too, but that was before I had
wanted to be a veterinarian. That was the
only advice Isabelle gave me before my
mom walked into the room to start yelling
at me, because, yet again, I had failed one
of the Monday tests. I’m supposed to be
sitting here locked in my room thinking
about why I had drawn pictures of Isabelle
jumping through a flaming hoop instead of
doing my test...but I think I’ll let mom let
some steam off while I just sit here training
Isabelle for another Pet Olympics. Oh no!
Here she comes. Got to go, bye!
1/18/10, Monday, LATER
So I did it. I told my mother I didn’t want
to be a fairy Godmother. She was yelling
at me for a long time about how she was
even more disappointed in me now that
she's found out that I had been training for
the Pet Olympics all this time. She ended
the tirade by saying “DON’T YOU WANT
TO BE A FAIRY GODMOTHER??!” That was
supposed to be her ending piece, where
she stormed out of the room all mad, but
before she could, I shocked her, and myself, by saying “No!” Well that made her
stop! She turned slowly on her heel, with
tears in her eyes, and whispered, “Take
it back!” “No!” I whispered again, more
fiercely than before. “You can’t tell me
how to live my life mom. I want to be a
Pet Olympics veterinarian, not some prissy
fairy Godmother.” My mom started to cry.
I thought she would walk out of the room
and slam the door, but instead she rushed
toward me and gave me a big hug. “I’m so
sorry, sweetie,” she whispered. “I thought
that was what you wanted. I never would
have forced fairy Godmothering on you so
hard if I had known you didn’t want it.” I
gave my mom a hug. “It’s ok.” I whispered
back.
The End
Moral: Don’t let people tell you how
to live your life.
Haikus for Meher Baba:
17 Syllables in Search of God
Mickey Karger, Florida
(Haiku: A major form of Japanese verse, composed of three unrhymed lines of five,
seven, and five syllables each, employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons.)
“In the morning, dress
your soul with Baba,” He said.
Look! One size fits all.
And He said to me:
Imagine how full you’ll feel
when you empty you.
Dig the sunset, Lord
You’ve painted for me tonight.
The Louvre is jealous.
“Because I love you,
You have a love pool within.”
Why not just dive in?
Reincarnation:
God’s way of saying, okay,
try your luck again.
When stuff happens to
others, we say: “It’s Karma.”
When it’s us: “Why me?”
We speak so often
but You never answer back.
“Speak softer,” You said.
When the slightest thing
leaves an imprint on your heart
God has just sighed there.
Backbiting cleans folk’s
laundry while it dirties yours.
Even Tide won’t work.
Announcements
Three Additions to the Trust’s Online Library
T
he Avatar Meher Baba Perpetual
Public Charitable Trust is pleased
to announce the release of three titles
through the Trust’s Online Library: Shri
Meher Baba, the Perfect Master: Questions and Answers; The Sayings of Shri
Meher Baba; and The Silent Word: Being
Some Chapters of the Life and Time of
Avatar Meher Baba. The former two titles
were published in 1933 by the Circle Editorial Committee in London, and are the
first books authored by Baba that were
published in the West. Each of these titles is being released in two versions: the
first is the non-facsimile reproduction
customary in Trust online eBooks, and
the second is a photographic facsimile
of the 1933 original. The latter version is
being released because these two titles
served as sources for the Trust-copyrighted book Meher Baba’s Early Messages to the West: The 1932-1935 Western
Tours (Sheriar Foundation: North Myrtle
Beach, 2009), pp. 57-153, and the Trust
wants to make primary source material
available in its original form. The Silent
Word is Francis Brabazon’s biography
of Baba, and it is being released by kind
permission of Avatar’s Abode Trust.
Shri Meher Baba, the Perfect Master:
Questions and Answers is divided into
sections entitled Questions about Christ,
Questions About the Spiritual Path, Questions About Messiah or Avatar, Questions
About Spiritual Masters, Questions About
Shri Meher Baba’s Mission, Personal Ques-
tions and Miscellaneous Questions: World
Problems, Philosophical Problems. To
the question, “How can we recognize
the ‘true’ Messiah?” Baba replies, “The
feeling and inspiration for things sublime
and the Divine Love are imparted by
a real Messiah to anyone who comes
in contact with Him. A false Messiah
cannot do this…a mirage attracts the
thirsty, but soon it is discovered to be
an illusion and not the life-giving water.
A false Messiah may attract the attention of the people through outward
appearances, by force of personality,
or by intellectual dissertations about
spirituality, but he cannot do that which
the true Messiah can do, i.e., arouse
the highest ideals in men and touch the
hearts of millions.”
The Sayings of Shri Meher Baba contains sayings on the topics of Divine Love,
Religions or Shariat, The Spiritual Path,
Intellect, Mind, and Maya, The Spiritual
Planes: the Mind and Subtle Sphere, and
The Perfect Master. It includes such
sayings as “There is no obstacle which
cannot eventually be overcome by the
genuine spiritual aspirant,” “Selfless
service may not only bring you to the
foot of that mystical mountain whose
summit is Self-realization, but it may
enable you to climb far on the path...,”
and “As soon as the clouds of sanskaras pass away we begin to see the
Sun of God in His pristine glory.” The
Silent Word: Being Some Chapters of the
Life and Time of Avatar Meher Baba by
Francis Brabazon is Baba’s life story up
through the closing of the Prem Ashram
in January of 1929. Several of its chapters
are devoted to Baba’s Mandali; Francis
himself was a member of Baba’s resident Mandali from 1959-69. Baba called
him “my Hafiz,” for he was a master of
the ghazal, a form of poetry expressing
feelings of separation and longing in
the lover-Beloved relationship that was
perfected by the Persian poet Hafiz.
Although The Silent Word is a work of
prose, its pages flow with the lyricism
found in Francis’s poems, as evidenced
by this excerpt from the book’s introductory chapter: “Men are born, and die,
and are reborn; until they die into the
Deathless and are never born again. But
one Man, being birthless and deathless,
takes birth again and again because of
the cry of the world for relief from the
burden of living; and to mirror himself
in the tears of his lovers...We who have
come to this infinitely beautiful One sing
under the shade of wine glasses upheld
for him to fill when it so pleases him.
And when the melody of pouring wine
begins we are lost to all but love.” All
three titles may be downloaded at:
http://www.ambppct.org/library.php.
Avatar Meher Baba Trust
November 13, 2013
What’s New on the Internet?
The Worldwide Baba Family Meeting!
Judy Stevens, Meherabad
W
e would like to inform you of
an exciting live Webcast from
Meherabad on the Internet called
The Worldwide Baba Family Meeting.
This broadcast is the actualization of
a dream that some of the residents of
Meherabad and Meher Nazar have held
in our hearts since Bhauji went to Baba.
This Webcast, launched on January 5,
2014, from 4:30 to 8:00 pm India time,
is a vehicle for Baba Lovers throughout
the world to stay in touch with each
other and to experience the treasure
of His love from those who have been
with Baba for many years or have been
fortunate enough to have His Darshan.
Bhau Kalchuri, the last of the Mandali
and former Chairman of the Meher Baba
Trust, for years held weekly Sunday International Chats through a live Webcast
and text and video calling on Skype. After dearest Bhauji went to Baba a group
of residents starting receiving feedback
regarding how much the chat meant to
many Baba Lovers throughout the world
who wanted to continue to have this link
to Meher Baba’s home in the East and
to connect to each other. Many asked us
to please not forget them and continue
some kind of weekly contact for those
out in the world.
We are going into our sixth week to
honor not only those Baba Lovers who
have requested that a live Webcast on
the Internet continue, but also to welcome into our Worldwide Baba Family
Meeting those who will in the future join
us in His love. For Baba has said where
two or more meet in His name, He will
be there.
From this storehouse of His lovers,
each week we have invited one of these
“jewels” as our guest. Tarabai, a 92-yearold villager whose father gave the land
to Baba that became Meherabad, was
our first guest on January 5th. She lived
in the ashram on the hill with Baba and
the women Mandali since the age of
ten, traveling all over India with them.
We broadcast her stories through text
only due to no access to a webcast. We
plan to have her come again to tell her
personal stories and this time you will
be able to see and hear her.
The second webcast guests were two
“treasures” from Dehra Dun: Sudesh
Sharma and Kusum Singh gave an inspiring and love-filled account of meeting
Baba in 1953 during the same time that
Bhauji first met Beloved Baba. We will
continue to give His Worldwide Baba
Family an opportunity to hear from more
and more of Baba’s treasures who are
willing to share the impact that His gift
of Divine Love has had on their lives.
During the third and fourth week
of broadcasting live from Meherabad,
we were fortunate to hear stories from
wonderful guests such as Mr. Lalit and
Madave Kamble. Kamble lived with Baba
at Meherazad from the age of 14 or 15
until 1967 when he was given permission
by Baba to marry and live in Arangaon,
the village next to Meherabad.
On week five we heard from Sudesh
Sharma again telling delightful stories
of her mother’s relationship with Meher
Baba starting in the early 1950s in Pakistan. It was such a delight to watch her
having so much fun, as she joined some
of us as we danced to Satchitinanda,
Paramananda. Other guests were Dr.
Bhatmagar and his lovely wife, Madhuri,
telling us how Baba tricked him into
accepting his family’s desire for him to
marry.
We also plan to invite musicians to
join us each week, as Baba said art is an
expression of the creative spirit of the
soul. Some will be pilgrims, and some
residents.
To join our weekly Sunday 4:30 to
8:00 pm Worldwide Baba Family Meetings, which are held in a private home
of one of the Meherabad residents,
you may attend in person, or on the
Internet. You can join in the text chat
or watch the webcast: http://jaibaba.
com/echat45/public/index.html or http://
www.ustream.tv/channel/worldwidebaba-family-meeting
You can watch the webcast live video
stream and/or read the text transcrip-
Wedding Bells
A
nother eligible bachelor has been
taken off the market. Steve Berry
(a Baba lover for 44 years) of Orange
County, CA (South of Los Angeles),
has been snapped up by the beautiful,
brilliant MRI-CT Technician, Martina
Rudolph, originally from Germany. They
were married last November by a minister from the Esalen Institute in a private ceremony on the beach in Carmel
(Northern California) and honeymooned
in Big Sur and Mammoth Lakes. We wish
them much happiness.
tion of the meeting from anywhere
in the world at the usual JaiBaba.com
Chat Room (details below). We are now
using a commercial streaming webcast
service. Registration is required, and
although there is a commercial at the
beginning and a few commercials interspersed throughout, the broadcast
stream audio and video quality is extremely high. To register, click on www.
ustream.tv
Click on Log in/Sign up on
the top right of the screen. On the bottom right will be the message, “If no
account,
sign up.” Select the option
“Sign in with email or user name." [DO
NOT select the “Faster” option to sign
in with Facebook. This
seems to block
the JaiBaba.com Chat Room, making it
impossible to follow the text transcription.]
Once you are registered for the
Worldwide Baba Family Meeting channel, go to http://www.ustream.tv/channel/worldwide-baba-family-meeting
Finally, you can join us via Skype at
our new account. Our new Skype name
is: meherabadworld.meeting Please add
this address to your Skype contacts if
you wish to join us
in this way. Note:
even if you were a regular Skype contact
during the Bhau Chats,
please re-send
your Skype account name to our new
email: [email protected]
“Live not in ignorance. Do not waste
your precious life-span in differentiating
and judging your fellow men, but learn
to long for the love of God.”
~ Meher Baba
Here’s a Sneak Peek of Issue #7 −
Our cover story is examples of:
“Real Happiness Lies in Making Others Happy”
The White Pony Express, started by
Murshida Carol Conner of Sufism
Reoriented, collects and donates
food, clothing and toys to those in
need.
Sakshi - one of the girls in the Pumpkin House for
Children - is wearing a new dress Tabitha Franklin
gave her. Tabitha is saying “One more year and you
can have this one too!”
Leroy Parker paints the Beloved’s face on clothing. A full
article and more photos in #7.
The Shoppe on Love Street has many new items for sale
too, including these beautiful gold and silver Mastery in
Servitude pendants of Baba’s colophon made by Radiant
Heart Jewelry; 7 different photos taken by Kirk Allen of an
exuberant Mani playing the violin; the photo of the White
Horse Avatar featured on our back cover, and many more
treasures.