WHAT AGONY WE SAWArnavaz N. Dadachanji When I had first met Beloved Baba, His beauty was indescribable. In the early years His eyes were like fiery, radiant pools, and as a teenager I sometimes trembled after bowing down to Him. Baba's entire physical form was expressive, His hands eloquently gesturing, as if He were performing a dance. Sometimes when I looked at Him, I would feel that He looked like Jesus. Over the years Baba's eyes changed, softening and shining with even more love and compassion, and His once graceful walk became laboured. After the second accident the doctors had not expected Baba to walk again; although He did, walking was both difficult and painful for Him. As more years went by, we could see Baba's tremendous universal suffering increasingly taking its toll on Him physically. Despite what those of us closest to Him saw in the privacy of Meherazad or at a darshan programme, He appeared renewed, His face glowing. Those who had come for His darshan would never have guessed what agony we saw when He returned to His room afterwards, drawn and exhausted. GIFT OF GOD, p. 181
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