ONE NEVER WON

 
Long ago in the early days with Baba, I suppose to make it easier for us to be natural with Him, He said to us, "Since you cannot come to my level, I have to come to yours." All the same, however daring one became, one never got the better of Him in fun and wit.

A small group of us were travelling with Him by train to Southampton from where He was sailing to India. On the train journey, He called me over to sit by Him and He then proceeded to explain to me on His alphabet board the difference between Purusha and Prakriti. It was very remiss of me, but my mind was not fully on what He was telling me.

My eyes kept creeping up to His face, instead of completely focussing on what He was telling me. His face was so full of loving beauty that my lack of concentration can easily be understood, and perhaps excused. When He had finished He sat back and said, "Now repeat what I have been telling you."

Much abashed, I made a stupendous effort and managed to stumble through the explanation that He had just given me. It was such a relief to me that I had managed this that I said gaily, "Now you are my first disciple," and quick as lightning He came back with, "And the last."

One never won.

Another story about not winning also started in a train.

In 1931, several persons were travelling with Baba from Devonshire to London, and I was fortunate enough to be sitting on His right side. Suddenly a look of intense interest came over His face and He looked past me and out of the window. Naturally, I turned to see what was interesting Him so much. There was absolutely nothing of any particular interest, some grass, some trees, but nothing else, and as I turned back to Baba, He lightly smacked the side of my face.

Now this trick went on for quite a long time, and I was always caught.

After some months He dropped it, but strange to relate, years later He again revived it, and I was just as dumb as before. He always caught me.

In 1956 while we were in San Francisco with a large group of people who loved Him and who had come to be with Him, He called me and all the dancers who loved Him to go and sit with Him without the rest of the party. It was a high point moment. He gave us no spiritual talk but sat quietly and lovingly with us. Moments of stillness with Him were always my favorites. So warm and so charged with love.

I was sitting at his feet and suddenly He pointed to the back of the room. I turned, thinking He meant to indicate some special dancer, but saw nothing particularly of interest, turned my head back to Him and, lo and behold, He gave my face the same kind of smack that it had not had since the early days with Him.

We sat on with Him for some little time longer, when suddenly He again pointed, apparently at someone at the other end of the room. I thought that at last my turn to win had come and I said, "Oh no, Baba, not again. You will not be able to catch me again like that for 700 years." Referring, of course, to His next incarnation. He sighed, looked sad and made out that He was disappointed.

Some three hours later, He sent for me. He stood in the doorway of His room with a worried look on His face and started at once to make signs about something He wished me to do. I stood facing Him, trying to make out what He was telling me.

Suddenly He looked up over my left shoulder, and a look of loving welcome dawned on His face. I, of course, wondering who was looking over my shoulder, turned my head, saw no one there, and on turning my face back to Baba received a good hard smack. As I say, one could not win. Strangely enough, that was the last time He ever did this to me.