WHEN YOUR HEART TRULY YEARNS

 
In the early '60s, Beloved Meher Baba use to spend the summers (mid-March to June) at Guru Prasad in Poona. Guru Prasad was the magnificent residence of the Maharani of Baroda. It had a grand entrance drive through beautiful gardens; a portico leading up to wide verandas with marble floors. The front doors were tall and their glass work was etched with artistic designs. This palatial bungalow was a fit setting for the King of kings, Beloved Avatar Meher Baba.

It was also very practical as it not only provided Him with a suitable site for His seclusion work, but it also was graced with a hall that was large enough for Baba to use for His darshan programs. It was at Guru Prasad that, in my case, Beloved Meher Baba's compassion allowed "the improbable to become possible."

Two blocks away from Guru Prasad is Mobo's Hotel. During the early '60s when Baba used to give darshan, the Dadachanjis and the Mistrys used to rent rooms at Mobo's for the time Baba would be in Poona.

On some mornings Baba would go for a drive or would visit one of His lovers and we used to stand at the gates of the hotel (which were on the road itself) just in case Beloved Baba drove by. When he did, in His love, He would stop the car and give us a smile or a hand to kiss. After some days, Baba asked that we remain on the terrace of the hotel and simply wave to Him as His car slowed down and then drove on.

After this extra and special glimpse of the Beloved, we would quickly get ready and go to Guru Prasad to await Beloved Baba's return. We would all stand lining the sides of the grand curved portico, waiting for Baba's car to slowly roll in and stop at the wide flight of stairs. Baba's door would open and one of the mandali, or sometime, a strong Baba lover who was visiting, would put out his arm for Baba.

Baba would take the support and climb the few steps and then enter the hall of Guru Prasad where He would seat Himself on the sofa. We would gather around, enjoying Beloved Baba's sahavas. Sometime there would be a singing program, but it made little difference to us; we just used to gaze in adoration at Beloved Baba until He lovingly dismissed us.

As the days went by, my heart started yearning, thinking, "How wonderful it would be if I could, once, help Beloved Baba up the steps. What joy it would be to touch Him!" My heart knew how improbable, in fact impossible, this dream, this longing was! With so many physically strong lovers around, and with Baba needing a really strong support, how could I even be noticed.

One fine morning, as we lined up. Beloved Baba's car rolled in, stopped, the door opened and Baba looked straight at me and beckoned. But I did not respond, thinking Baba wanted someone standing behind me. In my wildest imagination the thought did not come that Baba was fulfilling my heart's desire.

He beckoned again and this time I turned around to see whom Baba wanted. But I saw no one and, with a question on my face, I looked at Baba. The third time Baba beckoned and I dared to mouth, "Baba, I?" He nodded and I ran down the steps thinking, "Baba wants to tell me something."

When Baba gestured, "Take me up the steps," glorious joy filled my heart. I extended my arm and tensed, knowing I must not falter in taking His weight. Baba placed His lovely hand on my arm and I braced myself as Baba stepped out of the car. I took a step and, to my surprise, we seemed to glide up the steps light as a feather.

Throughout those precious moments my experience and feeling was, "How soft, like a baby, a cotton puff and the clouds, all rolled into one is Beloved Baba!" Baba sat down on the sofa and gave my arm a distinct "Thank you" squeeze.

Baba's love — compassion — His caring and giving — is beyond words. His silence is so eloquent: one hears Him distinctly in one's heart. His so loving, tender and knowing eyes smiled at me and I returned to sit with the other Baba lovers — in my heart a glorious, treasured glow which even today burns brightly.