ONE OF MY TREASURED MEMORIESEruch Jessawala On this particular occasion, Baba was sitting in the hall, and I was standing in my usual place, facing Him. Baba gestured for me to get a chair. So I did, and Baba gestured for me to put it near His chair. I thought that Baba must be tired of sitting in His chair. This was after the accident and Baba's hip gave Him a lot of pain. I thought Baba wanted to switch chairs for a while. But when I went to help Baba, He gestured, "No, you sit." So I sat there, near Baba's chair, looking at Baba. Not a word was said. I just sat gazing at Baba and He looked at me. Although I spent so much time with Baba, I almost never got the opportunity to simply stare at Him. I was always too busy. Even when I looked at Him, I usually had to concentrate so hard on His fingers, at first to read the board, then His gestures. I would look at His face to catch the vivid expressions which passed with incredible rapidity across it so I would know the right inflection to put on the words I was speaking out, but I never got the opportunity to simple stare at Baba this way. So I sat in silence gazing at Baba, and He sat in silence staring at me. And I found cool tears streaking down my cheeks. Nothing was ever said, but that remains one of my treasured memories of my time with Baba. THAT'S HOW IT WAS, pp. 284-285
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