In my first dream about Meher Baba, my brother and I were waiting for Him in a far away place, it seemed like the North Pole. It was very flat and icy, although we were not cold, and the light was brilliant. Then we saw Meher Baba approaching . When He came to us He said that He had something to show us and turning we saw this most beautiful mansion. We laughed with joy and ran to the main door to seek entry to this beautiful place but when we arrived at the door we were dismayed to see that it was locked, and it had seven keyholes! We turned to Meher Baba for help but He told us, smilingly, NOT TO WORRY AS HE HAD THE KEY!
I cannot now recall whether that dream occurred before or after Saturday, August 11, 1956 which is the day Meher Baba visited Melbourne, Australia.
After Meher Baba had been greeted by all those followers who had gathered at the airport and it was time for Him to leave, His instructions were that no one was to follow Him outside until He had left the area.
Now my father who had undertaken to drive Meher Baba and the mandali from the airport to the O'Brien guest home in suburban Camberwill, would have to return to Melbourne to pick up my younger brother and myself. So we children were left with time on our hands which we decided to employ by watching planes on the tarmac, but being unfamiliar with the corridors we became lost and eventually found ourselves outside, only to be confronted by the sight of Meher Baba a few yards away, sitting in the front seat of the car beside my father. He smiled and waved to us and although I felt smitten by a sense of disobedience to His order I nevertheless waved back and hurriedly reentered the airport. Later I learned from my father that Meher Baba had instructed him not to drive off until He gave the signal to do so, I felt that He had responded in His way to compensate me for the yearning, alas not fulfilled, to embrace Him at the airport.
On the following day, Meher Baba visited all the other homes which had been placed at His disposal for His stay. At our house He played a game of marbles with my brother Noel and Colin, and playing by the Indian style rules, they were soundly defeated that afternoon and also on the following morning when they thought they had put in enough practice under Meher Baba's rules of playing marbles.
Later my father asked if he and Noel could entertain Meher Baba by playing some music for Him. Meher Baba agreed, so Noel and my father played two favourite duets, which Meher Baba seemed to enjoy (my father played violin and Noel the flute). Meher Baba then asked to see the rest of the house so my mother took Him through the kitchen with myself following closely, unable to take my eyes off this fascinating visitor. Meher Baba said He would see the room where my parents slept, but my mother somehow indicated that it was in the cabin at the back of our house and He would get His feet wet. My mother was willing to forgo the honor of Meher Baba seeing this bedroom so that His feet would remain dry; He seemed pleased by her thoughtfulness for His comfort. For some reason which I still do not understand, I did not want Meher Baba to go into my room. It was dingy and dark, although I had scrupulously cleaned and tidied it before His visit. Meher Baba paused, looked at me, then walked past my room. I was relieved at the time, although I now think I was crazy to have missed the opportunity. What it showed me, however, was Meher Baba's delicate sensitivity to one's inner thoughts and wishes, perhaps this was what He wished to show me.
As with the homes, so with individuals. Each one had their special time for Meher Baba's attention and then He moved on to the next one who had claim on Him. I had occasion to notice this aspect of Meher Baba's way with people two years later, at Avatar's Abode, and I still regard this as one of Meher Baba's most endearing features.
The next day, there was children's hour in the morning and Open Day in the afternoon. My family and the children of others came to the O' Brien's house bright and early and we children played outside while the adults listened to Meher Baba inside. Finally it was our turn and we trooped in, to sit at Meher Baba's feet. He would touch one on the cheek and smile at another. He looked startled when He gazed at one child who had to be institutionalized for most of her life. He asked this girl's mother to give her daughter a nut to eat (prasad which Meher Baba handed to her) at a certain hour that night and then to repeat Meher Baba's name aloud.
I was almost totally ignored by Meher Baba, no glance, or smile or loving caress but, strangely, I did not really mind until He was cutting the fruit cake and then handing out a piece to each child as His prasad. I noticed that Meher Baba was very particular as to which fruit cake He would use, for several had been brought and Meher Baba rejected each one. Finally, Joan O'Brien told Him that there was no other, so Meher Baba told her there was and also where she had placed it, right at the top of a little used kitchen cupboard! Piece after piece was handed out, but none for me and I had decided that maybe He had forgotten me. Just then He handed me a piece, one that served me right! It was large, and Meher Baba had told us that we had to eat it all up in front of Him and then leave. So I chewed and chewed that never-ending cake, until only myself and a couple of other very young children were left.
Meher Baba left Melbourne later that afternoon. We, the Adams children, were not able to go to the airport as my father was driving the mandali again and no one else had room to take us. I remember there was a violent thunderstorm, which matched my mood as I felt very heavy and depressed at Meher Baba leaving us and my not being able to see Him again.
In 1958, when Meher Baba gave His Sahavas in the States, He also decided to come to Australia on the return trip to India and give a smaller Sahavas here. Francis Brabazon had been searching for a suitable property for this purpose and found and purchased the right one just in time, at Kiel Mountain north of Brisbane, now known as Avatar's Abode. Meher Baba laid down certain conditions for attendance at this Sahavas, such as no children under the age of 9 (we Adams children were all older than this); one could only attend if it was financially viable and each person had to read and accept His conditions regarding love and obedience; Meher Baba required 100% obedience from those who wished to attend. My parents carefully explained these conditions to us, to which we agreed, and thus we all set off for Kiel Mountain.
Upon His arrival, Meher Baba was carried into the Meeting Hall on a special chair by my father and three other lucky stalwart men and He then sat down on the dais. Meher Baba said that His hip which had been fractured in the accident in 1956 had been hurting Him and His physical health was poor. Consequently, we were not to embrace Him but to kiss His hand instead. We obediently lined up and Meher Baba stood and offered His hand to each one who passed in front of Him. When my turn came, for some reason I found it difficult to look at Him. I was very conscious of the power of His overwhelming presence, and I took His beautiful hand in mine and kissed it carefully, not looking at His face.
Meher Baba began discussing the day to day arrangements for the Sahavas and the financial situation regarding the purchase of the property. He then moved on to the conditions which He had laid down for attendance at this Sahavas and checked that all children were above the minimum age specified by Him. After lunch, Meher Baba gave a talk on obedience and said that anyone who was not prepared to obey Him 100% would have to leave. Meher Baba asked those not willing to obey Him to raise their hands and three hands were raised at the back and Meher Baba asked those three to stand up and come up front. They did so and to my horror, it was my two brothers and another friend who lived with my family at that time. Honesty was very much prized in my family, and I felt, on seeing my brothers, that they were more honest than I who should also have been up there with them. I thought then if Meher Baba asked me to take off my clothes and walk around naked, I would not be able to obey Him, being so very prudish at that age. On the other hand, I desperately wanted to stay with Meher Baba.
My mother was asked whether she had explained the conditions of obedience to them and she replied that she thought she had, but obviously not well enough! Meher Baba did not send my brothers and Laurie away but the issue was later resolved for each of them in a satisfactory manner.
Although I heard Meher Baba's words on obedience at the time, it was many years before they began to have some meaning for me. I realized years later with the help of Arnavaz Dadachanji and Eruch that the answer lies in love for Meher Baba and the willingness to try to do whatever He asks because of this.
But that afternoon and evening of June 3, I buttonholed anyone I could to try to explain to me what Meher Baba meant by real obedience. I was given as many different meanings of "what Meher Baba meantÓ as there were people there, and finally gave up and went to bed. I was miserable and cried myself to sleep. In the early hours of the morning, I awoke, still in tears, feeling very much alone with this apparently insuperable problem and no one else awake to listen, console and counsel.
I sat on the steps of the farm house and then saw the lights of Meher Baba's cabin in the distance, all ablaze. I thought 'at least Meher Baba is awake and knows how I feel' and stopped feeling lonely. Just then a snout was shoved into my hand; it was the dog, Prince, which had also come for the Sahavas and could not be driven away, no matter how hard people tried. Prince was a big, fierce and tattered dog which looked as though he had tramped half way across Australia to attend the Sahavas. Normally he avoided people and we avoided him, but he had come to comfort me and we sat side by side, my hand stroking his head. At last, I decided that the best I could offer to Meher Baba when He asked me again was to try to obey Him. If He would not accept this offer then I would have to accept His will and leave the premises and the Sahavas. Feeling at least a little better by having made my decision, I returned to bed.
The next morning, Wednesday, June 4, Meher Baba was to give families and individuals private interviews. When our turn came, He told us that our family was very dear to Him. Then Meher Baba said to me 'Cynthia, will you obey me?' 'I'll try, Baba,' I said. Meher Baba leaned forward and asked '100%?' 'Yes,' I replied, with a feeling of happiness, and Meher Baba beamed. He then called me to Him to receive His embrace and I knew then that He had known of my inner turmoil and was pleased with my response. I felt that a great burden had been lifted.
That evening, I had the opportunity to find out more about Meher Baba. Each time I went near Him for an embrace, I was conscious of a very beautiful perfume emanating from Him. I was curious as to which brand of soap, aftershave or perfume He used and when one of the ladies was given the great honour of washing and ironing Meher Baba's clothes, I raced up to her to see if I would be allowed to sniff them. ÒGo ahead,Ó she said and so I sniffed. There it was, the same haunting, beautiful perfume. Others sniffed too, but I do not know what they made of it. Years later I read somewhere that Meher Baba did not use soaps, perfumes etc. and went for long periods without needing to wash and years later read Mani's account in 1969 of how Meher Baba's body remained fresh as a daisy from the time of internment to the closure of the vault which houses His bodily remains.
The next day, Thursday June 5, we all assembled at 9 a.m. in the hall in Meher Baba's quarters. He inquired after our health, how we had slept etc. He then asked for a copy of the Prayer of Repentance, after ascertaining that no one present could remember it sufficiently well to recite it. Francis went off to get a copy and Meher Baba sent for Dr. Donkin one of the mandali, to come and recite it. Dr. Donkin read it out in a voice that was shaking with strength and emotion, the atmosphere was electric, and Meher Baba emanated enormous power which Donkin's voice reflected. After it was recited, Meher Baba said that He forgave those present their sins up to this point in time. He added that some of those not present were even closer to Him and that His forgiveness included all those who loved Him but were not able to be present.
Meher Baba told us to repeat seven times on July 9 at midnight 'Beloved God, Thy will has come to pass'. We were reminded that Meher Baba had asked us all to obey Him specially from June 10 to July 10, 1958 and that He would send us each His orders for that period. Meher Baba decided then to visit the womens' and the mens', quarters and we all left.
Later we were called into Meher Baba's room for the womens' session with Him. We sat at His feet and He told us about Mehera and His sister, Mani. I was particularly struck with Meher Baba's words about Mehera as He showed us her photograph, and told us how much she loves Him, and how close she is to His heart. Of Mani, Meher Baba said that she had no thought for herself, only for Him.
Meher Baba told us that Mehera had sent some gifts to the women, some of which she and Mani had made for us. Immediately, the thought came to me, 'which one is for me?'. I felt so enormously greedy that I almost filled the whole room with it. It was a shock to me for I had just been held up a vision of purity and love and here, in contrast, was myself, a vision of the lowest form of greed. I felt ashamed, moreso as I knew that Meher Baba would know of my feelings and thoughts, but by this time I also knew there was no place where I could hide them away from Him. Meher Baba was busy handing to each of the women some of His hair, which He said we were to keep always as He only gives it to those who love Him and we should treasure it as a special gift from Him, as part of His physical body, to us.
We returned to the farmhouse in the belief that Meher Baba had ended our morning meeting. He had definitely not finished with us! He wanted to play and give us His prasad. We sat down on the benches while Meher Baba ÒplayedÓ. At first His play was light hearted and amusing but the game changed. Meher Baba then said He would throw His prasad (large icing- coated sweets which should have been easy for all to catch) but this time we must all catch it. 'This is My life line to you,' explained Meher Baba, 'It represents My connection with you and you must catch it or you have no connection with Me,' Meher Baba commenced throwing prasad first to the children. My turn came and I dropped it. It had to be given back to Him for use for someone else! Still reeling with shock from the earlier session, I was now totally devastated. I stared at the prasad, lying on the floor in front of me, and thought 'I have no connection with Meher Baba. There is absolutely nothing for me'. Those of us who dropped the prasad were told to wait at the end of the session after everyone else had gone.
We had to stand directly in front of Meher Baba. He repeated His previous words about His connection with us and catching the prasad and made us cup our hands about two to three feet away form Him. He threw and we caught.
For years I pondered the significance of this event, but it eluded me. It seemed odd that Meher Baba should cause me to drop the prasad and then make sure I caught it on the second attempt. There had to be a reason for it but I could not fathom it. Twenty-six years later, a poster with an extract from Meher Baba's sayings on the New Life with the words 'helpless and hopeless' caught my attention and as I read the entire paragraph I realized that this saying described precisely my feelings as 'my' prasad lay on the floor. Everything had become nothing for me, without Meher Baba.
That afternoon, we returned from the farmhouse to see Him sitting on His chair on the verandah, looking at the ground. We gathered in silence and watched Him from a distance. I have never seen anyone look so burdened, so sad and so glum. After a long interval, He rose heavily to His feet. Leaning on Eruch's arm, Meher Baba said that we were very fortunate to see Him thus, as He was in a 'working mood'. I think Meher Baba's work then must have involved the most intense suffering, for such was the look on His features.
Meher Baba then walked to the side of His house and looked out at the view, down the hill. I was standing just behind Him, and heard Him say through Eruch that thousands would come to this place in the future.
We all turned back to Meher Baba's house and my friend, the dog Prince, rushed to Him and lay at His feet. Meher Baba bent down, petting and patting Prince, and I felt enormously pleased for my friend. Meher Baba told us about His own dog, since dead, which would reincarnate in his next life as a human. The rest of the afternoon was spent indoors entertaining Meher Baba who wanted us to help Him to lighten His burden. Having seen the effect of such burden on the expression on Meher Baba's face, we did our best, with some success. Many jokes were told, including some by Meher Baba. They were funny, but all had a hidden message as well.
The last day, Friday, June 6, was fascinating. Meher Baba decided to give us a discourse that even the Mandali had not heard before. One feature of this discourse that I remember particularly was Meher Baba's explanation of why a sixth plane saint feels separation so intensely. A saint on the sixth plane, unlike others on the lower planes, does not "seeÓ behind him.
Instead he faces and sees God straight ahead, but between the sixth plane saint and God lies an unbreachable chasm, unbreachable until Meher Baba's Grace is bestowed and the chasm can be jumped. Consequently the sixth plane saint feels like the greatest sinner in the world, as he can see God but can also see that he is not one with God. Others on lower planes do not directly face God and therefore do not feel the same degree of separation.
Meher Baba's orders for us arrived one month after we returned home. Mine, were Òfor forty days, beginning from July 1958: 1. Repeat audibly but softly 500 times a day, at one sitting any one time during the 24 hours: 'Beloved God Thy Will has come to pass in that all our Meher Baba has declared will soon come to pass this year'. 2. Give up one cherished item: i.e. some special food or drink or (smoking) etc.
Time passed and we made every effort to obey Meher Baba's orders. Sometimes there was a fast, or it was Silence Day (July 10th.) or Meher Baba asked each follower to write Him a letter. My brothers have a series of funny stories about fast days or silence days, such as one fast day when several boys sitting near Noel at school tried to insist that he share their lunch with them. At no other time had they shown any interest in whether Noel ate or not! Francis used to write regularly, sending us poems, letters etc. This one of his poems we enjoyed particularly:
This morning once in cradle lay The Sword that broke the night today. Sing Avatar Jesus! Sing the Sword That was God's sweet and tender Word. This morning once in cradle hung The Word that bloomed in lovely song. Sing Avatar Jesus! Sing the Death And Life that was God's singing Breath. This morning once in cradle sheathed The Flower that o'er the world soon breathed. Sing Avatar! Fragrant Tune Whose petals o'er the world were strewn. Sing Jesus-Meher Baba: God to Man - From Man to God the arching Span.
I missed the 1962 East-West gathering because of my educational responsibilities and so it was not until December 1964 that I again met Meher Baba. This was during a period of very strict Seclusion, so no one was more surprised and delighted than to find myself at Meherazad. My friend Janice had also accompanied me.
We arrived at Meherazad on the dot of 10 a.m., Monday, December 21, 1964. Meher Baba was seated in His chair in Mandali Hall, looking hundreds of years older and frailer than when I had last seen Him. But His embrace was as always, and I remember that my delight in seeing Him seemed to be reflected and increased by His delight in seeing us! We ended this exchange by smiling at each other and yes, the perfume was still there.
Meher Baba asked Janice if she would come next December to the Sahavas that was planned, for Easterners first (which was held) and then for Westerners (which was not held, not that year at least). Janice was non- committal in her answer so Meher Baba asked me if I was coming next December. I replied 'you bet' which for some reason amused Francis.
Eruch then said that Meher Baba wanted to know if we would like a private interview. We of course chorused 'yes' and Janice and I went out as Phyllis Ott whom we had met in Ahmednagar was to be first. We sat in Eruch's little cabin where I marveled at his spartan quarters (the size of a large packing case) and then giggled when Eruch rushed in briefly to get a letter, from his compact office and filing system which consisted of a little tin trunk, that Eruch had perfected to a marvel of efficiency.
When my turn came, Eruch and Francis were present and I sat down with Francis on my right and Eruch on Francis' right. Meher Baba told me that I was blessed as He had allowed me to see Him. Meher Baba then said that He felt very open that day and I could tell Him anything, which was an invitation for which I had hoped. I was deeply concerned at that time about my father who appeared to be turning into an alcoholic. I could not understand how such an able person as my father, who also loved Meher Baba very much, could become such an addict. How could He let this happen? Expecting Meher Baba to be equally concerned, I earnestly told Him that I was worried about my father and thought he drank too much.
Meher Baba then repeated the instruction that I should come to the December '65 Sahavas. He paused, looked carefully at me, then asked if I remembered His coming to our house in 1956. I replied in the affirmative and Meher Baba asked did I also remember that He had asked me at that time did I love Him? Again I said yes, I remembered, but added 'I think I love you, I wasn't sure last time, but now I think I do.' Meher Baba did not seem pleased, as His expression changed and He glared at me, saying through Eruch 'You should love Me more'. My response was to laugh ruefully, thinking to myself Òwell, at least that implies I love Him a little, even if it's the tiniest speck imaginable.' It was much later that I realized I had been given a most direct and important order which I must try 100% to obey, a job of lifetimes no doubt.
Meher Baba then said I should read God Speaks from cover to cover several times and it will answer all my questions. I thought 'what questions, Baba? I haven't got any.' To this day, there still do not appear to be many, but I have read God Speaks several times now and hope to continue to do so. Much later, after Meher Baba dropped His body, I remembered this order and realized that I had not read the cover of God Speaks as instructed. I did so at once, and was delighted to find that it answered succinctly my question as to what one should be doing after Meher Baba's physical departure from this Earth, especially the last paragraph on the back cover. It reads 'The task for the individual is to live his religion in practice, by working on himself and by serving others — not to convert or change others to match his own views.' Throughout his life, Avatar Meher Baba was the living example of His motto 'Mastery in Servitude.'
Meher Baba explained that at darshans He opens the gates of love and is flooded with love. He asked us both what our plans were. I answered that we were intending to go to Poona, then north to Delhi and possibly south to Madras and Bangalore. There was a long pause as Meher Baba appeared to consider this, and then gave us permission to go and even arranged our visits to Poona and Delhi
Little did I know at the time how generous that permission would turn out to be. No wonder Meher Baba considered the matter very carefully as we must have given Him an enormous amount of trouble. As we journeyed around India, we sometimes found ourselves in difficult and even dangerous circumstances. Were we just lucky? Maybe once, or even twice, but three times stretched my credulity and I think 'someone' took care of us.
To return to the interview, Meher Baba then gave me some other instructions regarding my health. He also told me not to visit saints or sadhus and Francis added that it might even be harmful for me, as I had met Meher Baba. I complied with this order happily, having no wish anyway to visit saints or sadhus, and did not come across any whom it was necessary to avoid during our wanderings.
Mehera and Mani showed us over the house, Meher Baba's room, Mehera's garden etc. and Mehera amused me by referring to her nightly 'argument' with Mani who likes the window up and Mehera likes it down, or was it vice-versa? Mehera insisted I kiss her dog Mastan and then embraced me so many times I lost count! By this time I was overwhelmed with love and became almost 'punch drink', it was even hard to walk a straight line. Mehera was an inspiration to us as one who loves Meher Baba as He wants to be loved.
When we left Meherazad, Meher Baba embraced each one of us in farewell. He clasped me to His shoulder as though I were a much loved and precious child. This was, of course, my last physical contact with Meher Baba but I was not to know it at the time, so that final embrace is one of my treasures now.
The next period, 1965 to January 31, 1969, consisted of long silences as Meher Baba's Seclusion was even more strictly enforced and fasts, Silence Days and occasional special orders from Him. No letters were allowed to Him or the Mandali and my only communication consisted of birthday cards to Mani and Mehera and a birthday card to me from Mani each year. Family Letters referred increasingly to Meher Baba's intense suffering and, equally, to His plans to break His silence! Of course, Meher Baba did the inconceivable, which was typical of Him. He dropped His body on January 31, 1969 without apparently breaking His Silence. He was gone! Everything was suspended and, again, I was numb.
When the news came the next day, we were stunned. My parents, myself and Denis O'Brien and others had intended to go to India for the planned Westerners' Sahavas in April - May 1969 at Guruprasad. Denis and my father decided immediately that the Darshan was off, as Meher Baba was no longer here physically. Plans for the 'Great Darshan', as it was called, proceeded however and I wanted to go, just in case Meher Baba's order in December 1964 to come to the Sahavas in 1965, which did not eventuate that year, still applied. But there were too many obstacles and I decided not to go.
For some years following I too went about my business but my 'hibernation', which is the only way I can adequately describe this period, continued. Although I would still spend hours talking about Meher Baba with my parents, I wanted very few other reminders of Him. I was reluctant to look at Meher Baba pictures or read books about Him. I resumed a sporadic correspondence with Mani, as the mood took me, got married in July 1972 and had my first child in October 1973. Three more children followed.
My husband Paul is a committed church - going Catholic and regards me as a 'crazy woman to believe all that twaddle'. He races me to grab the Meher Baba newsletters I subscribe to and never fails to poke fun or prod at my belief in Meher Baba, whom he refers to as 'Ba-ba Black Sheep' and Meher Baba followers as 'Barbarians'. It amuses and challenges me; I have to think very carefully in my replies and, naturally it is impossible to explain why I believe Meher Baba as the intellect is simply not good enough and I usually just say 'I believe Meher Baba and He says He is God'. He snorts and exchanges jokes about Meher Baba with my four children, who are being raised as Catholics. Hardly a day passes, however, without one of my children accosting me to ask 'are you thinking about Meher Baba?' or some such reference to Him. Recently my son John insisted on writing Meher Baba's birthday into our calendar; he also asked to take Meher Baba's photo to his class as he had informed them that I pray to Baba, not Jesus! John won't tell me what he said when his teacher asked 'Who is Meher Baba?" I wish I had been a fly on the wall to hear his explanation! At the time of my father's death on March 5, 1977, my father had heard through a friend from Adelaide that he was regarded elsewhere as no longer a Meher Baba follower which was to us astonishing. Dad was not at all upset but said that someone should write to India to assure them that this was not so.
I took it upon myself to write to Mani and explain matters to her; Mani's reply was 'Take care of darling MEHER BABA — love Him and remember Him and hold on to Him with all your heart. And don't forget, whenever you call on Him, He always answers....' The day after receipt of this letter, my brother Colin called to tell me to come over as Dad was dying; I thought of Mani's words and "asked 'Meher Baba to be there. I jumped into my car and drove to my father's house.
When I went in, my brothers told me that Dad was still alive, but failing. Mum called us into the room as even the equipment was obviously slowing. We stood around his bed while Mum recited the Prayer of Repentance. My father ceased breathing, his pulse stopped and then I 'heard' him say in my head 'Come on Cynth, say Meher Baba's Name loudly'. I shouted out 'Meher Baba' with great force which startled my brothers, whereupon my father took three more noisy breaths and then stopped. We laughed, Dad had the last joke, and we felt a very strong Meher Baba presence.
The funeral was wonderful. My brother-in-law, a Catholic priest, officiated but had no problems fitting in the Meher Baba farewells. Denis O'Brien read the Prayer of Repentance, which delighted some of my Catholic in-laws, not realizing it was a 'Meher Baba' Prayer, and Paul Smith and Os Hall read poems they had each written specially for my father.
This feeling of Meher Baba's presence seemed to open the gates, and in the following year after my mother returned from India with a fund of tales from Meherazad, I started reading Meher Baba books again.
Another break occurred when Mum and I decided to visit Avatar's Abode in August 1982 for the Anniversary Celebrations. The 'reminiscences' segment of the program was enjoyed by all of us and slowly, the urge arose again, to go to India to visit Meherazad - Meherabad, twenty years after my last visit. How to organize it was a problem as my husband, Paul, was opposed to my going.
Then Paul and Ann Smith decided to invite Sohrab and Rustom Irani, Meher Baba's twin nephews, to Victoria to their home for a six week holiday and during this time my husband was quite happy to invite them into our home also.
When the twins visited our house my husband learned that the Irani-Parsee way of life was very similar to the Borg-Maltese way. (My husband was born in Malta and came to Australia when he was 13). Paul and the twins enjoyed each others' company enormously while some of his opposition to Meher Baba appeared to drain away. When it came to booking my return ticket to India and filing for a passport I knew I would need Paul's consent or 'blessing' as this was something required by Meher Baba. If Meher Baba wanted me to go, then it would work out and I had to be resigned to His Will, one way or the other. So when my husband willingly helped with my plans, I took this as a sign of his 'blessings' and went ahead.
When I arrived in India and at the Meherabad Pilgrim Centre, much to my surprise, I really enjoyed it there. I was surprised as I was expecting it to be 'organized' and 'devotional' in a ceremonial sense, which I do not like, but of course I was wrong; it was great.
I came to India, feeling that I was doing so because Meher Baba wanted me to, but not expecting it to be in any way like that of December 1964. It was therefore a shock to me to find that Meher Baba definitely was around 'alive and still kicking' and I meant of course, still kicking me! It never finished as there is so much to learn and to absorb and the words for the cover of God Speaks came to life in Ahmednagar.
I had not previously visited the Tomb and was really expecting it to be ceremonial in much the same way as I had previously regarded the Pilgrim Centre. I duly visited the Tomb next morning and was a little disconcerted when it became apparent that visitors are expected by some to do all the ceremonial things. However, as I also think it meaningless to kneel before Meher Baba in any way or form without following it through with mind and heart, I decided to 'think' a few words as I knelt. I had embraced Meher Baba before and kissed His hand, but never His beautiful feet. So as I knelt with my head at His feet in the Tomb, I repeated softly to myself 'Baba, I kiss your feet, help me to love You more and more'. To my surprise again, I really enjoyed the experience, so much that I repeated it every morning. Although I can sometimes 'feel' Meher Baba's presence in all kinds of situations, not just at the Tomb, for me those daily jaunts were a highlight of the visit.
Other joys were the stories told at Meherazad by Eruch, Mani, Bal Natu and Mehera (during the ladies' lunch time sessions). One day I related to Mehera my feelings during the womens' session in 1958, when I had felt so greedy in Meher Baba's presence. Mehera replied that anyone who feels these kinds of things in Meher Baba's presence is most fortunate as it helps to clear them away.
In another encounter with Meher Baba's presence, I found myself journeying to Ahmednagar bus station in the early hours of the morning, before light. Feeling very much alone and a little afraid, I thought of Meher Baba and immediately these feelings disappeared. My 'Companion' was with me and my fear left me. I arrived at the bus stop, having been instructed which bus to take to Poona and how to get on it. But all the numbers and signs were in Hindi and there were about 30-40 buses lined up. A kind Sikh took pity on me and told me where to wait and how to recognize the bus. It arrived full up and not taking more passengers! Again I felt helpless, but just then, another man came up to me. He was a student at Ahmednagar College, and said he also intended taking this bus to Poona. He organized my ticket, seat and luggage and we sat together at the back of the bus but shortly before it was due to depart, he suddenly said that he had decided to take a later bus and left even refusing offers of money from me for his very kind assistance! As Mani had said to me years before, no call to Meher Baba is ever ignored by Him, but of course one must be prepared for Meher Baba to respond in His own way. I do not know whether it was Meher Baba who inspired this young men to help me or not (though I believe it was) but at the very least the thought of Meher Baba dispelled my fears and 'aloneness'.
There were many other wonderful stories related at Meherazad, but I think that those who wish to hear more should visit Meherazad themselves. And for those who wonder why I have gone to the trouble of writing this all down, I can only say I did it because I felt I should.
Photographs by Dr. Colin Adams. Colin was a 15 year old boy when he took these pictures of Meher Baba. He is Cynthia Borg's brother.