|Thank you for your website. Happened to run into it a couple of weeks ago. It is so that what I started to read here was following what I had for months found around the Word and breathing and the role of Gurus on the Net and books and my own inner experience. This is quite amazing. I have been on this pilgrimage for many years, had strange experiences etc. I can only remember I have seen Dadaji's name once before in an Indian magazine about 20 years ago. Could be because it was not until now it was beneficial for me to read all this stuff. I guess so. Love, --- Carsten Nielsen, Arden, DENMARK||
written & composed by Dadaji
edited by Ann Mills
FREE download of book
"Your Dadaji, Amiya Roy Chowdhury, says do not try to test the Supreme Being. Do not try to understand Him with the help of your mind or intellect. Ever follow the Truth. Then, and then only, you are in communion with Him."
by Mr. S.B. Pandya, General Secretary
National Farmers Organization
Sri Amiya Roy Chowdhury is commonly known as Dadaji (Elder Brother) the world over. Numerous men and women from India and abroad (many among them topmost scientists and scholars) adore him, have faith in his message and seek internal light from him. Many of these people gather together in the presence of Dadaji once a year for the Mahapuja of Sri Sri Satyanarayan in Calcutta.
During the two Mahapuja days, those gathered in Somnath Hall become fully engrossed in Bhajans, devotional songs that become the only theme of everyone there. Ordinarily about 1,500 to 2,000 people from all parts of India, USA, Canada, England, West Germany, Belgium and other countries attend the Mahapuja.
LEFT: Mr & Mrs Pandya & Dadaji at Utsav in Calcutta 1984
Since about 1978 when I first met Dadaji, I have attended Mahapuja. The Mahapuja itself is performed once on each of the two days in a closed room where there is only the large portrait of Sri Sri Satyanarayan and near it, there is one glass of water, coconut water in another glass, and cooked rice in a vessel. These are Prasad and there is nothing else in the room. A few science-minded and learned people from the gathering are taken in the Puja room to ascertain there is nothing else there. For the Mahapuja, only one person from the hall is selected to sit inside the room on behalf of the whole gathering. It is not certain who will be sitting for the Puja. That everyone becomes engrossed in the Bhajans is the only certainty. When the devotional songs are at there full peak, Dadaji calls someone from the gathering he deems worthy to sit for the Puja.
During the year 1985, Mahapuja was held on the 21st and 22nd of October. Usually during Puja, I sit near the wall at the back of the room and try to avoid the development of any ego in me, any feeling that I, too, am someone important. On the second day the Puja started at about four-thirty the afternoon. When the Bhajans were at full peak at about six o'clock, Dadaji called me from the corner where I was sitting and told me, "You will sit for Puja."
Hearing this I felt extremely joyful within myself and I immediately prayed within myself to Sri Satyanarayan and Dadaji to save me from the ego and feeling of being an important or selected person; and to fill me with the feeling that the Puja I would be doing will be on behalf of everyone gathered there and they all were partners in the Puja. I prayed for internal strength to maintain this feeling.
Dadaji asked me to follow him to the Puja room. At the door he asked me to remove all clothes above the waist, keeping only the Dhoti (traditional Bengali men's attire) on the lower half. The Puja room was examined as described earlier and it was determined it was empty but for the portrait and Prasad. Dadaji accompanied me in the Puja room and he too removed all clothes from the upper part of his body, keeping only his Lungi on the lower half. In the room there were two small square rugs. Dadaji asked me to sit on one and told me that the other one was for Sri Sri Satyanarayan. I was asked to sit cross-legged with my eyes closed and to rest my hands on my knees and keep my palms of both hands upward, the first fingers of each hand touching the thumbs. Dadaji asked me to recall Mahanam. All the lights were switched off. Dadaji remained in the room about 3-5 minutes and then said he was going. I heard the noise of the closing door. I was told later on that the door was locked from outside. I was alone. There was complete darkness. I was feeling it in the room. In the beginning, I prayed to Sri Sri Satyanarayan to give me strength to be able to digest the experience, not to develop any ego in me, and to develop a feeling that I was doing Puja on behalf of the whole gathering and in partnership with each and everyone outside in the hall. There was complete silence in the room, the only sound I heard was the song Dadaji wrote, "Ramaiva Sharanam, Sharanagato'yam" (I take refuge in the protection of God. I take repose in Him and always remember Him). And, that became the theme of my mind.
I was chanting Mahanam constantly and was fully engrossed in it. After about 5 or 10 minutes, I felt sparks of lightning around me in the room. Slowly the sparks of Light became brighter and brighter, then started gathering together in front of me and formed into a bright shining Light. Simultaneously I experienced a gentle shower of water on my head and body. I thought it to be that of Gangajal (Ganga refers to the flow of Consciousness, Jal means water). Dadaji's Fragrance started coming and became intense. I was told later there was His Fragrance in the whole building.
The Light in front of me became brighter and brighter each moment and it developed into an oblong shape. I was becoming happy and full of joy. Within a short time, in the oblong brightness I saw Sri Krishna in live human form and I was overpowered with joy and tears of happiness came from my eyes. The image of Sri Krishna was very inspiring and it was such as I had never seen before. Different from the images we see on calendars, photos and Murties in the temples. It was in real human form. I immediately bowed to Sri Krishna. While bowing I saw that my wife, whole family and the gathering in the hall were all simultaneously bowing to Him. Sri Krishna blessed me and everybody by spreading His hands on my head and all.
Then slowly the figure of Sri Krishna in the bright Light disappeared. Again, in the same Light I saw the actual figure in human form of Sri Sri Satyanarayan. I bowed to Sri Sri Satyanarayan and He, too, blessed me and slowly disappeared. Again, in the same image I saw Dadaji in person and He blessed me. I was full with joy and had lost all senses. I forgot myself.
The bright Light slowly became round, smaller and smaller, but much brighter. It formed itself into a form of a sun and slowly went up. Then, it moved around and came on my head. It entered into my body through my head. It moved downward and became steady at the junction of the chest and the abdomen. I was feeling heat in the body due to that bright Light. I saw again Sri Krishna, then Sri Satyanarayan and Dadaji again in that Light.
Slowly the images disappeared and only the bright Light remained. It ?became brighter and brighter, smaller and smaller and smaller and generated more and more heat. That Light remained continuously in my body. It became steady and I was experiencing more heat. I was feeling so much joy! I had lost my senses. This continued for about half an hour. Tears of joy were dropping from my eyes. The Light was becoming much brighter and hotter.
Later I was told that after about 45 minutes Dadaji came into the room, had placed his hand on my head and asked, "Are you all right?" I said, "Yes." It was believed that I would wake up and come out of the room, but after Dadaji left, I was again engrossed in the pleasure of the Light inside my body. When, after about ten or fifteen minutes I did not go out, Mr. Kamdar came and shook me and asked me to get up as everyone outside was waiting for Darshan and Prasad. I had no senses at that time.
I did not come to my full awareness, but got up as asked by Mr. Kamdar. I bowed to Sri Sri Satyanarayan and went in the hall where Dadaji was sitting. I bowed to him and the whole gathering and sat in one corner as still there was Divine Light in me. After about half an hour, I realized that I was sitting without my shirt on and put it back on. This Divine Light continued in my body until midnight and to some extent the whole night. The Divine Fragrance on my body and my clothes remained for many days. I was told Sri Satyanarayan had come into the Puja room and taken Prasad and there were obvious signs of finger marks. The coconut water had turned into curd. There was fragrant Nectar dripping on the portrait of Sri Sri Satyanarayan and the room was full of fragrant Charanjal and Divine Fragrance.
In Calcutta I was staying at the Maharashtra Niwas. When I went there at midnight, my room companion said, "You have applied too much perfume." I said, "It is not perfume from the bazaar, but it is Divine Perfume." I told him the whole of my experience. He was happy to hear about the Puja and took Dadaji's address.
LEFT: Mr Pandya & Dadaji in Delhi India 1984
The next day, I returned to Delhi by deluxe train in Second Class A.C. on a coach that accommodates about 44 people. My seat was in the center, yet the whole coach became full of Divine Fragrance. People on the train were searching trying to find where the Divine Fragrance was coming from. They located me and asked me about the Aroma and I told them the whole experience and wished that everybody could become the partner in the Divine Puja. There were a number of physicians and scientists on the coach who questioned me about whether the whole episode might be wishful thinking. I said, "The images of Sri Krishna, Sri Satyanarayan, and Dadaji may be wishful thinking, but how about the Divine Fragrance and taking of the Prasad? Can that, too, be wishful thinking?"
As for me, I accept the whole experience with full faith and devotion. The next day when I reached Delhi and entered my office, everybody noticed the Divine Fragrance and inquired about my experience. I told them what had happened and they were all very happy. I narrate this for you now so that when you read it you can become the partner and experience the Divine Light.
by Ann Mills
San Francisco, California, USA
Volumes have been written about the early years with Dadaji, the miracles, the manifestations, the years when he was revealing himself, seeing thousands of people and speaking about Truth. In this article, I'll share some personal experiences I've had with Dadaji in the later years. Years when Dadaji appears to suffer physically and on occasion, shows mental confusion. Years when Dadaji becomes exclusive, yet draws a few genuine God lovers to him. Years when he reveals himself more directly than ever before. Years when he prepares us for his departure.
It is a personal story, a love story. As only Dadaji could design, it blends the mystery of the Divine and the human experiences in this world. As Dada once said with enthusiastic certainty, "He is such a Lover!" That He is. And, as brothers and sisters in Truth, His Divine Love can be shared as we remember Him while playing our roles in His World as we see His Hand at play in the joys and sorrows of our lives.
Thoughts of Dadaji, Amiya Roy Chowdhury, are constant. Mysterious and elusive, I can never catch him as much as I try. Various memories of Dadaji during the previous six years of traveling with him in the USA and abroad float through my mind, eliciting raptures akin to those described by various saints and mystics.
Then I recalled a brief comment Dada made the previous fall when we were sitting together in his home. "Next time you will come alone." Dadaji's casual remark reassured me I would see him again. As close as he had embraced me in his work, I never knew how long he would let me stay. Most people come to Dadaji, experience Mahanam and, with very few exceptions, they return to their normal daily lives. Thereafter, a gradual, effortless, inner transformation and growing awareness of Truth occurs. If they come again, it is only for brief visits to pay their respects and to sit in Dada's presence. He does not collect devotees.
The long flight gave me hours to reflect. Since hearing Dadaji's name in 1979 my life changed dramatically again and again. One major shift after the next left me drifting, my belief in free will and individual responsibility shattered. It's often observed that those closest to Dadaji endure the most extreme suffering. Some call it testing. I don't know. Throughout the years, nothing and no one remained constant except Dadaji. During times of suffering, His Love was my only sustenance, refuge, strength and joy. His subtle but undeniable presence in my life was a daily beacon of Truth enabling me to withstand confusion and difficulties, which I gradually became aware, Dada, himself, created. And, although it seems contradictory, somehow Dada's love and presence sustained me through the most painful experience of my life, which was his own behavior during his visit to the USA in July, 1987.
When Dada arrived in America for his annual visit in the summer of 1987, I had just finished a ten month marathon effort to compile and publish the first printing of "The Truth Within." Driving to the Portland Airport to meet Dadaji as I had done for so many years, I was stunned to realize I felt uneasy. I had a deep sense of foreboding and a strange sorrow. My feelings made no sense, but were undeniable. It was confusing. Logically, I should have been feeling even more elated than usual. The book was at the printer and would be arriving by express mail within a few days. I had been enthusiastically anticipating the glorious moment I would hand Dadaji a book. Now, I felt a deep inner dread. However, I had to go to the airport, drawn unavoidably as a moth to a flame.
His plane landed. As usual, Dadaji, Roma Mukerjee and Abhi Bhattacharya were the last to disembark. Dadaji emerged from the gate. Oddly dressed, he wore a dark blue pinstripe suit, rust colored turtleneck sweater, plain blue socks and white sneakers. No colorful silk Lungi, glimmering white Kurta and sandals, his customary attire, which made him stand out in any crowd and draw all eyes to him. Roma gestured for me to go to Dada. He looked straight at me with eyes I had never seen before, vacant eyes. In a flat voice, he said, "Not now." He walked past me. It was not unusual for Dadaji to totally ignore me in airports, he'd done that often over the years. But, this time I knew something awful was happening.
Many times I've seen Dadaji smoothly ignore or rudely reject certain people in various ways, for unknown reasons, myself included. Yet, in July 1987, Dadaji presented my hardest trial when throughout his seventeen day visit, he totally rejected me. In previous years, I spent hour upon hour, day after day with Dadaji while traveling. This year Dadaji and I exchanged no words. Occasionally he gave me a scorching scowl. That was it. And, that was the least of it. Dadaji did and said things which contradicted his message. I felt betrayed and horrified. I didn't know what to do.
It was little consolation to learn that from the time Dada left India, during his vast sweep across the West, he alienated all but a handful of people. I heard disturbing details about Dada's behavior in London and Belgium, that he appeared mentally confused about where he was and that he was asking for money from a few of those closest to him. Although he asked nothing of me, I was shocked, I couldn't bear the contradiction between Dada's message and what I was hearing and seeing. I decided to stop production of the book and leave. I would go camping in the mountains and align myself with the Truth within. Hadn't Dada said, "Don't believe him (Dada) also. He is nobody." But, my plan was not His Plan. Dadaji flew to Los Angeles. And, to this day I don't know how, but although "I" had "decided" to go camping in the mountains, after seeing Dada off at Portland Airport, I found myself, with Kathy Kapps, driving 1,200 miles to Los Angeles....to be with Dadaji. The book stayed in production. "A person has no power to dictate to life. His Will prevails."
In hindsight, Dadaji's 1987 tour of the west was a masterful drama directed and acted by the Supreme. Just as he designed his own betrayal, arrest and exoneration described by Abhi Bhattacharya in one of his letters for purposes of Truth, to spread his message, and to shed those clinging to him for whatever reasons, on his summer tour Dadaji manipulated egos to demonstrate to those very close to him that Truth is within, not to be "found" with any person, even Amiya Roy Chowdhury. Gradually, over the last few years, he has seen fewer and fewer people. Long before, he said, "There was no plan of mass contact." "I will become exclusive." "Slowly I will desert everyone." To this end, Dada, in his Supreme expression of love, appeared disoriented, angry, rejecting, and abusive. Totally different than ever before. In his final tour, Dada shook those closest to him to the core, but still kept a few near him. And, in the midst of it all, loving Dada drew a few genuine lovers of God into his fragrant embrace and they had a taste of his love. Dadaji, the ultimate Enigma!
In Los Angeles, Dadaji was the same. He wouldn't speak to me. The books arrived. Naturally, I wanted to personally show the finished work to Dadaji. After all, he had asked me to write it. But, he still wouldn't have anything to do with me. I couldn't believe it. Finally, I gathered up my courage and went into Dada's room. I found him talking about money to someone. I handed him a copy of "The Truth Within." Looking irritated at my interruption, he nevertheless took it and told me to leave the room. With that one move, he severed my ego from the book.
Based on what appeared to be his worsening mental confusion, the remainder of Dadaji's U.S. tour was canceled. Some said he was getting old. Others said his odd behavior resulted from deteriorating vision in both eyes. Some said it was a result of complications an aborted cataract operation done in his home the previous winter. But, actually Dadaji was shedding people, and during his remaining days in Los Angeles, he continued creating havoc with those close to him and, at the same time, gracing newcomers with love, fragrance and illumination. Abhi, who has seen and withstood a lot over the years, just laughed and said it was all His Leela.
Three months later, sitting on the plane headed for Calcutta, the final image of Dadaji, painfully etched forever in my mind, came to me bringing tears. In his pinstripe suit, he sat all alone at Gate 64, Los Angeles International Airport, awaiting his 7 a.m. flight to New York. I sat across from him trying to be close, yet far enough away to avoid his wrath. Still in shock, I couldn't take my eyes off Dada. Never in all the years had I seen such a sight. Dadaji, sitting alone in an airport. Always there was a joyful, loving crowd come to see Dadaji off to his next destination. Now it was just Dadaji and me. The few who had come with us somehow all drifted away for the moment.
I couldn't bear to see Dadaji sitting there by himself, so I cautiously moved to the seat next to him. I wanted to say what I thought would be a last good-bye, but I hesitated trying not to cry. Finally, I leaned close to Dada's ear and said, "I love you. Good-bye." He said, "I want you. I love you. You are, you are. I am always with you." I was dazed, yet relieved. The others traveling with Dada appeared and they boarded the plane. He was gone.
On my way to Calcutta to attend my sixth Utsav celebration at Dadaji's invitation, I wondered what reception I would find.
Dadaji was reclining on his bed, his whiskers looked about four days without a razor. I went for his feet, touched them with both hands and forehead, and was flooded with gratitude for a moment of refuge in total surrender. He immediately pulled me to him and when I looked into his beautiful dark brown eyes, so full of love, I was Home. Dada said he'd been waiting up for me and seemed agitated that it had taken so long for me to get there. He said, "So many people come, but He only waits for you." Inside I shrank back as I always do when he says such things. His words are endearing, but His Love is for everyone, it has no name. He continued, "You are Something. You don't know. From the beginning, you are Something."
Dadaji asked if I'd eaten. Yes. Nevertheless, he went to his cabinet and reached for two boxes of Bengali sweets. He opened and offered them saying, "Eat." He yelled to a servant to bring tea immediately. My heart felt so full I thought it would burst. It was difficult to keep my composure. Tears from His deep well of Love overflowed, the burden of last summer eased a bit.
Dadaji said, "Everyone wants your book. You brought?" The two heavy suitcases of books were brought up to Dadaji's room. Clearly overjoyed at seeing the copies of "The Truth Within", Dada told one man present to purchase one for 300 rupees. Against my wishes, Dada insisted the rupees go to me. Then Mrs. Mukerjee, wife of one of Dadaji's physicians, came and Dada gave her a book for her son in exchange for 11 rupees, which he insisted I take. (He anticipated I would later need the rupees to purchase photos for the second edition of this book.) Later, I learned the 11 rupees had a deeper significance. Dadaji had recently talked a lot about the number 11 to Gautam Mukerjee. The reference was to the final stage on the wheel of life, 11 approaching 12, the point of all union into Oneness. Gautam told me the following story.
"There was a very poor Muslim man, Yaseem, a mason's helper, who earned his livelihood carrying building materials. Making very little, he and his family lived close to starvation. At that time, Dadaji was not as he is now. He was a simple householder before he became known as Dadaji. Few people knew about him. However, Yaseem had known Dadaji for many years because he used to live on Prince Anwar Shah Road, also. When Dadaji said, 'He is within. He sees Himself, but through our eyes. But, they're His eyes actually,' Yaseem understood who Dadaji was right from the beginning.
Thus, Gautam explained the value of the 11 rupees Dada asked from him for his copy of the first edition of this book.
I went into his bedroom and in the semi-darkness he reached out and took my hand. I knelt beside his bed and he took me in his arms, my head rested on his chest. He patted my back softly and said how much he loves me. We talked quietly for some time, reminiscing about special times we shared in our years traveling together. With particular fondness, Dadaji recalled our early morning walks in a beautiful wooded park in Portland, Oregon. In the pale Calcutta moon light I could see a contented smile on his face.
After awhile I moved to kneel at the end of his bed and lightly rubbed his legs and feet. He quickly went to sleep. I covered him and went into the next room. At 5 a.m., I was awakened by a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Dada standing there, appearing disoriented, as if coming out of a very heavy slumber. I guided him to the bathroom and someone came to help him get ready for his morning walk.
After he returned, I sat with him in his bedroom as he completed his morning routine: a cup of hot milk protein drink, later his breakfast of fruits and dry toast, later still his tea and half a cigarette. I had tea. Dada was quiet and much of the time in a Self-absorbed state.
When Dadaji arrived home he hugged Peter warmly, and after I touched his feet he hugged me and said, "As long as you are here, I am okay." He was dripping with perspiration from the scorching Calcutta heat, and I helped him take off his Lungi and Kurta. He reclined on the bed and said, "Too tired. Cannot talk. So many people, hundreds, they bow down to Dadaji." He went into Self-absorbed state and I was filled with raptures of Love beyond description. Dada's attention returned, he said, "Life, you are my life. You do not know. So long as you are with me, I am all right. Do you take meat?" I said yes, and he told me where I would have lunch and dinner. He sees to every detail. Directly and indirectly, Dada provides exactly what is needed at the proper time. As Peter Meyer-Dohm once said, "Dada is with us all the time. You can trust in His help all the time. Even if He is not in consciousness at the time. We are too much concentrating on our consciousness, looking for signs of His Presence. He is doing all from inside."
During this visit Dadaji often told me to sit on his bed at his feet or at times next to him. He often pressed or massaged my arms gently saying, "I love you from the beginning." "From my heart, He loves you. Everyone loves you." "You are a nice girl. Nice. Nice." He went on and on, "Excellent, you are excellent." I felt uneasy at the praise and transferred it where it belongs saying, "He is excellent!"
Delhi, 1986 Remembered
"Whenever Dada wishes," I said laughing a bit, amused that he pretends there is a choice. "Am I to go to Delhi?" Typically, Dadaji leaves for Delhi and Chandigarh immediately after Utsav. Last year, in 1986, he told me I would go with him. Tom Melrose and I, among others, were there when Dadaji took a bad fall off a three foot drop onto a concrete driveway, hitting his head on a concrete wall. It was particularly odd that it happened, because on two occasions just before he actually fell, I had entered the room just as Dadaji was heading toward the doorway with the unprotected drop. As if interrupted, he looked surprised that I was there. He threw his arms around me and gave me a big hug, then turned around and went back down the hall into his room. In hindsight, it was almost as if I'd interrupted him in what he intended to do.
A short time later, when I was occupied elsewhere in the house getting his sunglasses cleaned, he walked through the now empty room, out that doorway and fell. Hearing the commotion, Tom Melrose and I rushed to his room just as a tiny Indian woman was helping a bleeding and moaning Dadaji back into his room. Everyone was stunned. A doctor was called immediately. He took Dadaji's blood pressure and announced he was dying. Dadaji's elbow was gashed and bleeding, he had a bloody abrasion near the top of his head. He yelled in pain when anyone even tried to touch him. (Dadaji is extremely sensitive. I remember one time in Boulder, Colorado, when it took Tom Melrose over an hour to remove a small band aid covering a tiny cut on Dadaji's ankle, because every time Tom would lift the band aid the slightest bit, Dadaji would show such agony.)
I was standing at Dadaji's feet, observing him as he lay on the bed. With inner vision, I saw Dadaji as boundless, glowing, golden white Light radiating in every direction. Encircling him far into the infinite distance were beings of all description from universes and realms beyond our awareness. I was enthralled. Yet, simultaneously my mind was preoccupied with the fear he was dying. I knew it had to happen some day, but now? This way?
Another very famous Delhi physician, Dr. Gupta was called. It took a long time for him to arrive and in the meantime everyone left Dadaji's room and we were alone. Dadaji insisted I massage his neck and showed exactly how he wanted me to do it. I began to rub his neck and it seemed to give him some relief.
Finally Dr. Gupta arrived, calm and professional. Dadaji was obviously delighted to see him and showed full confidence in his care. Dr. Gupta has known Dadaji for years and doesn't consider him an ordinary patient. Dr. Gupta said it appeared to be a concussion and he gave a soothing ointment to be rubbed into his neck. Dadaji was to rest in bed. Dr. Gupta seemed as unconcerned, as he was devoted. He left saying he would return later. Dadaji insisted I remain with him around the clock.
Two days later we were scheduled to return by air to Calcutta. Under the circumstances, I couldn't imagine him making the flight. He appeared in such pain. Initially, his appetite was fine. But, I noticed something. I mentioned to someone, within earshot of Dada, that everything looked all right as long as he didn't begin vomiting, an indication of complications with a concussion. Immediately Dada began vomiting. Later, when the doctor told Dadaji if he continued vomiting he would have to go to the hospital for a cat scan of his brain, Dadaji stopped vomiting.
Dadaji's suffering throughout this ordeal appeared so real it was difficult for everyone to watch. Nevertheless, he began to exercise almost immediately, walking back and forth in the hall, steadying himself by holding onto someone initially, but soon walking alone. If anyone else had taken such a fall, if they weren't dead, they would be hospitalized for days and recuperating for weeks.
While all this was going on, the house was packed with people. An article in the largest newspaper in India had announced his visit and throngs of people came. They hoped for even a glimpse of Dada. Occasionally Abhi would open the bedroom door and people standing in a long line at the doorway would take turns doing Pranam, the traditional greeting offering one's self in respect. I watched in wonder because just before Abhi opened the door to the people, Dadaji transformed from an weak, moaning invalid, into a radiantly beautiful being. I noticed he also made certain his feet, offered in the direction of the doorway, were uncovered and visible to those doing Pranam from across the room.
The two days were filled with the mundane and the miraculous. I was grateful I had the experience of being a mother. Tending to Dada's personal needs came naturally. I heard his every breath and knew the moment he was awake or asleep or needed something. Extraordinary moments continued. One time, Dadaji was sleeping and I was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of him listening to his breathing. My eyes were closed. Suddenly, I saw a vision of a radiant young Dadaji appear and extend his hand to me. I took it and together we crossed through to at least eight different realms of existence. Upon entering I was struck with the vision and the total knowledge of the makeup of each realm. It felt quite normal, although awesome. As the vision faded, I became aware of the room, opened my eyes. Dada reached out his hand, took mine and squeezed it affectionately.
Dadaji was fit for travel in two days. I watched his elbow heal as if it were filmed in fast action. He insisted we take the evening flight to Calcutta as planned. Dadaji, Tom and I arrived at Calcutta's Dum Dum Airport late in the evening. The requested wheelchair wasn't there and a furious Dadaji briskly walked the long distance across the concourse from the plane to the airport. He was livid. Sitting in the back seat of the tiny, rusty and rattling Premier car being driven to Dada's house in the smokey blackness of the Calcutta night, I was near collapse. Tears came to my eyes, I wondered what I was doing there at all. It was too overwhelming to figure out. Inside I just gave up. Dadaji instantly stopped his angry ranting and took my hand gently. I was flooded with love and marveled once again at how he knows what I'm thinking and provides what is needed. He relieves, when I realize I, myself, can't do anything, when I recognize I am helpless, when I give up.....then surrender just happens. Dadaji says, "You just try to surrender. But, you can't surrender even. He is doing everything."
We can only speculate why Dadaji would take such a bad fall. A few weeks later I had a startling experience which may shed some light as to maybe why, in very very small part, it happened.. After I returned to America, I was in San Francisco, California, helping Kathy Kapps move from one apartment to another. Carrying a heavy, awkward box I walked out of the front door onto a cement porch. A stairway led to the sidewalk where the truck was parked. Standing at the top of the stairs looking down I had an inner vision, a mental movie, of myself losing my footing, falling down the stairs, hitting my head on the cement siding and falling unconscious on my back on the cement walk. I was immobilized. Then, somehow I knew I wouldn't fall and simultaneously I knew there was an association between the vision and Dadaji's fall in Delhi.
Dadaji, a Mirror
"I can't live without you," I said.
"You must stay with me," Dadaji said.
"I can't do a thing except as He wishes me to do. Correct or not?" I asked.
Dadaji said, "Correct!"
As it turned out, Dadaji canceled his Delhi trip at the last minute for reasons unknown. The next day in the late afternoon Dada summoned me. It was hot and humid. Dadaji was reclining on his bed in a Self-absorbed state. A few others were there. I sat a few feet in front of him, I watching a small green lizard clinging to the pale violet wall near the ceiling of Dadaji's room. The thought crossed my mind, how fortunate the lizard, to live in Dada's house and be in Dada's presence daily. Dada said, "Why are you sitting there?" He indicated with a nod of his head to sit close to him near his feet. "When I can see you I'm happy," he said. He wanted my full attention. I realized, he was mirroring my true feelings, when I see Dada, I'm happy.
There was talk of more books on Dadaji. Abhi said he has just about finished transcribing 17 years of tape recordings which will be translated into English and published. Also, Dr. Nanilal Sen is completing a diary of his many years of daily conversations and experiences with Dadaji. Although he would humbly deny it, Dr. Sen might be considered the expert on Dada's message. I mentioned I hoped to do a pocket-sized, condensed version of "The Truth Within." Dadaji began talking in Bengali, gesturing enthusiastically. I sat fondly gazing at his perfect feet. He pulled his feet back, then gradually, very slowly inched them toward me. All the while he continued to talk to the others. I watched his playfulness out of the corner of my eye, laughing inside. Direct conversations and mental conversations occur simultaneously with Dadaji. Being with him either alone or in a group is a mysterious, multi-dimensional experience because there are always countless interactions at various levels going on. Add to that awareness, the multitudes who are experiencing Dadaji by His Fragrance and presence throughout the world and it arrests the mind. He is with everyone, all the time.
I thought, I want to massage his feet. I watched as Dadaji continued to slowly move his feet toward me until his toe touched my knee, signaling for me to massage. He continued talking and talking in Bengali as I massaged his feet, ankles and legs. I reflected on how, since his summer blitz, so many were saying how helpless they feel now. Dada's often repeated admonition, "You can do nothing," has become our personal reality. Dependence on Him being unequivocal, the question of who is doing what doesn't arise.
Dadaji got up from his bed to get a small box of Indian sweets someone had brought him. He offered them around then set the box on the small table near his bed. Later, when Abhi picked up the box to put it away, I noticed Dadaji reach out and very precisely pick up a tiny crumb of a sweet that remained on his table! Impossible, according to eye specialists, who say Dada's eyesight is severely diminished due to a cataract in his left eye and no lens in his right eye, and hemorrhages resulting from diabetes in the back of both eyes. Yet, I catch occasionally glimpses that Dada sees everything, down to the tiniest crumb.
Utsav 1987 Begins
The next morning, Dadaji sent a car to take the Mukerjees, Tom Melrose and me to Somnath Hall. People began gathering and soon the hall was full. I spoke briefly with two men who came a long distance by train from Orissa even though both were extremely ill. One young man just had surgery a few days before, the other elderly gentleman was suffering from an extended bout with a debilitating influenza. Both came, regardless, because Dadaji said, "You must come."
Dadaji arrived looking beautiful and radiant. He wore a pale mint green silk Lungi and pure white Kurta. His eyes were full of love; his skin was smooth and glowing, his cheeks rosey. He gave various people a special smile, a tender embrace, a jovial slap on the back, a loving look. Everyone beamed, their faces reflecting Divine Love and inner illumination. This is Utsav.
Dadaji gradually made his way to the divan at the far end of the hall, people garlanding him and touching his feet in Pranam all the way. Ignored were posted signs reading, "Please Do Not Touch Dadaji's Feet." After he was seated, people continued to kneel before him and touch his feet. When everyone was finished, I bowed before Dadaji, touched his feet and sat just to the right of his divan. Shortly I was overcome by raptures of His Love. Uncontrollable ears streamed down my face. Dadaji said, "He's making love to Himself."
Dadaji reclined on the divan, his head propped on his left hand. His eyes revealed he was in the beyond state. The singers began their traditional songs in praise of God. As I listened to the words of the song, "Hari Krishna, Hari Ram," I thought it was all wrong. It should be "Hari Dada." Mentally I was singing "Hari Dada," when Dadaji motioned for me to come near him. He said, "Hari Krishna is not correct. He is beyond this." Then, shocking everyone, Dadaji told the singers to stop and never sing "Hari Krishna" again. After an awkward pause, they began singing the Ramaiva Sharanam Song which Dadaji wrote and composed, and the traditional "Jai Ram." Dadaji reclined with a satisfied smile.
Raptures & Revelations
"I'm ready," I replied, but inside I felt uneasy. I thought the Divine Marriage was a fait accompli; what was Dada up to now? The thoughts dissolved as I looked into his eternal gaze of Love. Overwhelmed with immense feelings, I had to rest my head on his pillow. I was feeling embarrassed at being enraptured before the huge crowd gathered in the hall. With a broad, satisfied smile, Dadaji pulled my face up from the pillow and slapped me affectionately on the cheek. Through joyful tears I laughed at his playfulness.
Dadaji went into his Self-absorbed state. The feeling of sitting with Dadaji during such times is difficult to describe. Glorious. Awesome. Sublime. Humbling. Peaceful. It's Utsav, the inner illumination of Truth. It's what we all long for: Oneness. We experience it with Dadaji in person, also whenever we become deeply absorbed in Him whatever the circumstances.
Dadaji's attention returned and he leaned over to me. I rose to my knees and leaned into the divan, our heads touched briefly. Looking straight into my eyes with a piercing gaze, he said, "Dada is Guru." I was shocked! All I could say was, "Dada!" I thought to myself, now you have said it plainly and emphatically, for the first time. So many times Mr. G.T. Kamdar, the "Salt King" of India, who has been with Dadaji for years, sat next to him and tried to get Dadaji to say, he is He. Dadaji wouldn't be caught. He playfully engaged in dialogue with Mr. Kamdar and so many others, giving glimpses but nothing more. No doubt some will not understand Dadaji saying, "Dada is Guru," and may find it contradictory to his message. Ontologically, "da" refers to the One, Who appears being immersed in Name and bestows Name on all. That, Dada does. Whatever you might find confusing about Dada or his message, simply let it be confusing. As you read and reread this book, you'll discover Dada working within to resolve all apparent contradictions and remove all confusions about Truth. As he says, you just remember Name and leave the rest to Him.
All bow down before Dadaji
Later, I heard how Dada called this Sadhu to Utsav from where he lives at the Bholadiri Ashram in Benares. He was sleeping one night and he heard Dadaji very clearly calling him, as if trying to wake him up, saying, "You come to me. Come to attend Utsav." He traveled to Dadaji's house and asked Mrs. Mukerjee, who answered the door, if there was going to be an Utsav. She said, yes, it would begin the following day. The Sadhu replied, "Yes, that's exactly what Dada said." When the Sadhu had tried to see him years before, Dada told him, "After 12 years, do not come now. I will call you."
Boudi, Dadaji's wife, later confirmed that from the early morning on the first day of Utsav, Dadaji was telling her someone from far off would be coming to him. He was constantly after Boudi to see if that person had arrived. Dadaji told Boudi, "Dadaji is not only your husband. He's the Husband and Father of the entire universe."
Dadaji's loving compassion
Dadaji talked at some length with Peter Meyer-Dohm about Truth. He was in his old form. Gesturing emphatically, he forcefully denounced the Guru business. "No person can be Guru. Ashrams, institutions, all money making business. He (Dadaji) cannot give you anything, cannot take from you anything. Whatever He says is correct. No one can challenge (Dadaji) in the world. You do not know to whom you are talking. All bow down before Him. All saints and Sadhus."
The elderly gentleman I spoke with earlier, Mr. Chintamony, came up to offer his Pranam to Dadaji. He appeared extremely weak. Dadaji gave him a concerned look and touched him on his chest as he had Misra's son. A look of relief and newfound strength appeared on his face as he was healed by Dada's loving touch.
Dadaji was playing with me, but I didn't know it yet. I removed the rubber band holding the cloth over the bottle cap, opened it, handed the bottle to Dadaji just as I had often done in the past. Ordinarily, in typical Indian fashion he takes the bottle, holding it some inches above his open mouth, and pours the water, swallowing it in large gulps. This time, however, Dadaji took the full bottle and started to put it up to his forehead! I quickly reached for the bottle, fearing he would pour it down the front of himself with all the people in the hall looking on. I nervously put the bottle to his lips and he took tiny little sips like a small child. I began laughing inside, remembering what Dada said earlier, "Only if you give it to me will I take."
I watched the Sadhu sitting in lotus position, his eyes closed. I wondered what he was experiencing with his shaved head, saffron robes, and beads displaying his "spirituality". Just then the Sadhu appeared overcome with emotion, trying with difficulty to hold back his tears. The music and singing continued, people joined in or not as they were inclined.
I puzzled over Dada's asking me to marry him earlier. I wished I'd said, "It's done." Within seconds, Dadaji gestured for me to come close and he said, "I want to marry you." Naturally, I said, "It's done." He said, "Praka! (No less!)
Who's the Lover?
Observing the Sadhu massaging Dadaji with such immense love, I recalled a story I heard that morning. Twenty years before, as a boy, the Sadhu came with his parents to Dadaji. The child's legs were fully paralyzed and he couldn't walk. He was brought in a taxi and his weeping parents carried him to Dadaji. Dada took him into the next room and asked the boy to remove his outer garments. After looking at the child, Dada gave him a slight push on his back and said, "You go and walk." When his parents took the boy away, he was walking so well it was impossible to know he'd been fully paralyzed. The boy was transformed. He wanted only to be with God all the time, and according to his destiny he became a Sadhu. Now he massaged Dadaji's legs at Utsav, in front of hundreds of people.
The massage continued and after some time Dada reclined fully, resting his head on the pillow. The Sadhu began to massage him with such enthusiastic vigor I wondered how Dadaji could bear it. Eventually, Dada became so still, I wondered if he would fall asleep. Of course, that was only my mind, I knew the scene had been perfectly orchestrated, a destined event set by Him. Eventually, Dadaji sat up, looking All-powerful and radiant, and motioned for the Sadhu to stop. It was past noon by now. Dadaji received Pranams from those crowding around, then made his way out the door to his car.
His Love Story Continues
After the morning Utsav session the following day, Dadaji told me to go with Roma for lunch and to her house for afternoon rest. Roma served Dadaji for over 20 years, and her house is full of photos of Dadaji. I felt right at home. While showing me her modern western style kitchen, she told me about an incident that occurred many years before when her family found themselves short of food and money. She called Dadaji at his home on the opposite side of Calcutta and told him of their plight. Suddenly, vegetables started coming from the dining room ceiling. Cabbages, carrots, potatoes, cauliflower, falling in abundance on the floor. I asked her if they ate them. She said, "Yes, of course!"
Roma showed me to a bedroom with a small single bed where I would rest. Pictures of Dadaji were everywhere in this room also. Excitedly, she insisted I wear one of her Sari's to the evening Utsav. I lay down to rest, the intense afternoon heat tempered by the ceiling fan.
Dadaji's presence surrounded me. Thoroughly content, I was filled with wonderful thoughts and beautifully gentle feelings. Gradually, without conscious intent, I began noticing my breath in a way never before experienced. Simultaneously, with inner vision and inner awareness, I both observed the Light and became the Life Force initiating the inhalation. A momentary pause occurring at the full inhalation was a void of peace that transformed into the deepening surrender of a full exhalation. A void at the end of the total exhalation gathered orgasmic force and initiated another inhalation.
Although my breathing remained slow and steady, the cycle continued, gathering a gentle momentum of energy. Time stopped. Mahanam, the source of life, overtook my consciousness, although no words were associated with the wavelike ebb and flow of energy manifesting on each breath. With the inner eye it appeared as a flowing Light in my heart moving upward over the top of my head, pausing in a void, coursing down to the base of my spine, pausing in a void, then up to my heart and continuing in this pattern over and over and over. It can inadequately be described as a Divine Orgasm. Flooded with immense rushes of Love, tears overflowed. After what seemed like an eternity, the divinely orgasmic experience began to recede. Tears stopped.
Awareness of myself and the room returned. I felt totally peaceful in my body and in the world. Thoughts began. I hoped Roma would pick a pretty Sari for me to wear. Just then, Roma burst into the room with a joyful smile, carrying the most beautiful Sari I'd ever seen. Bright, deep red, heavy silk bordered in black and red with wide panels of gold thread. "It's my wedding Sari and you must wear it to bring me good luck!" she said. I was speechless. Just when I'd experienced consummation of Divine Marriage, I'm presented with a wedding Sari! Roma insisted I wear some of her gold jewelry; so there I was, going to Utsav looking as much like an Indian bride as a tall blond American could. Roma insisted on taking a photo.
When we reached Somnath Hall, Dadaji had not arrived. Still in a state of extreme rapture, I carefully threaded my way through the crowd seated shoulder to shoulder on the floor, to sit in the one remaining open space on the floor near his divan. Dada arrived and crowds of people pushed forward trying to touch his feet and do Pranam. He settled comfortably on his divan, reclining for a long time in the Self-absorbed state. Dadaji gestured for me to come close. I whispered in his ear, "I love you." He said, "I know that."
The Bhajans continued intermittently. Occasionally Dadaji sat up and talked to those nearby. Hours passed. As he prepared to leave, I knelt before him in Pranam and he drew me very close. "Are you satisfied?"
I felt like a blushing bride. "Yes."
His dark eyes penetrated mine and he asked again, more forcefully, "Are you satisfied? You understand?"
"Yes!" I replied.
For those who will never meet Dadaji in person, I want to share that I never experienced Mahanam as others have as others have described in this book when Mahanam mysteriously appears written on blank paper in Dadaji's presence. During the first year I was with him, I gathered my courage and asked for Mahanam twice. He said, "No need." Since then, He has given awareness of Mahanam on many occasions as I go about my daily life. Awareness of Mahanam is the natural result of remembering God with loving surrender. It can't be forced, so don't bother trying to make it happen. Awareness of Mahanam comes, like Dadaji's Fragrance, when you least expect it. And, like His Fragrance, you'll know it without a doubt.
The next morning before going to Somnath Hall for the morning Utsav, it occurred to me that I would love to garland Dadaji with flowers. I had never done so, although Dada had garlanded me many times with flowers others had given him, as he usually passes on his garlands to someone else. I asked Gautam Mukerjee if he would bring a garland for me to present to Dadaji. He agreed and I sat in the back of Somnath Hall waiting for him. As I waited, Robin Blake told me what happened to him earlier when he went to the table in the hall where "The Truth Within" was available. Dadaji had not yet arrived, but when Robin opened a book, Dadaji's Fragrance came out of it. Since then I've had many phone calls and letters from readers throughout the world who are having similar experiences.
Dadaji arrived and people lined up to do Pranam. Everyone finished, still no garland. Just as I gave up the idea of the garland and arose to go up to Dadaji, Gautam walked in with the garland. It is an Indian custom for the bride and groom to garland one another. I was a little nervous, but it felt good in my heart as I walked up to Dadaji and kneeling before him placed the flower garland around his neck. His eyes captured mine in an eternal embrace of Love as he removed the garland from his own neck and put it around mine. He kept me kneeling before him for a very long time as he talked about many things. I remember he said, "Dadaji is Dada." "You are my life." "He is always with you. He loves you and His Blessings are always with you." And, many times he said, "You are, you are."
The next day, Utsav being over, I was sitting with Dadaji in his room casually talking with Abhi and some others. Even though Dada was irritable and acting absent minded, the hours passed pleasantly. At one point when Dadaji came out of his bathroom, he nodded his head in my direction and asked, "Who is it?" I replied, "Ann." Confirming my Utsav experience, Dada said, "No. My wife."
Dada, our Beloved
Even though, in essence, our love stories with Dada are the same, each one of us also has a uniquely personal relationship with him, whether in person or through books. It is a mistake to assume what one person experiences with Dada is possible or necessary for another. He can't be bound up by any program. And, since he isn't interested in groupism, and in fact challenges so-called "spiritual" and "religious" groups, we have no prescribed procedures to form an exclusive group and eventually end up abusing the message of Truth. He knows human nature and refuses any attempt at institutionalization of Truth. Dada reminds us it is far simpler. We live Truth. We can share moments recognizing His hand at work in our lives; we serve to remind one another of Him, of the Truth within; and importantly, in the meantime, we simply go about enjoying our daily lives.
As Dr. Nanilal Sen wrote in a recent letter: "Dada is dead against groupism and factionalism, though His followers, in pursuance of their latent drives, harbor such things amongst them in amplitude. You see your Dada is not my Dada. We all make our Dadas in our own images. In fact, we have not seen or met the real Dada except for a select few in their secluded moments of forlorn consciousness. Anyway, there is, however, a meeting point which might make two persons kindred. The waves of His love for you and me might mutually mix and mingle and touch both of us, though a bit differently. That is what is real groupism is all about. Beyond that, it is perverted egoism and casuistry."
Why does Dada suffer?
Although I never ask Dada, on many occasions he has healed me. One time was particularly dramatic. I was in California talking by phone to Dada in Calcutta. Suddenly as I shifted position something in my knee went out, locking my leg in a ninety degree angle of stabbing pain. I didn't say a word to Dadaji, but my mind was racing about how I could get off the phone and fast. He continued casual conversation, not letting me off the line. After a few minutes of excruciating pain he said, "Are you all right?" I said, "No. My knee." He changed the subject and asked, "How is your son?" I struggled to answer. "How is your daughter?" I detected a wince in his voice and instantly, at the very same time, my knee was healed. I was so stunned I blurted out, "Dadaji, you healed my knee!" He said, "Correct." I asked, "How did you do that?" He laughed and said, "When I see you I will tell you everything." I laughed and he laughed; we both knew Dadaji would never discuss it further.
A frequently asked question is, "Why does Dadaji suffer? If he's He, the embodiment of Satyanarayan, Truth and Love personified, why does Dada suffer when others are healed?" I posed the question to Dr. Nanilal Sen, who responded:
"Many people are deluded into thinking Dadaji has suffering because He cannot ward it off. Far from the truth. He does invite suffering on Himself. It is real suffering. Even then, it is make-believe phenomenon. This world we live in is governed by causality, action-reaction. Everyone has to suffer the reactions of one's actions. Why should Dadaji be an exception? He must play a normal man in every respect. One law for the commoners, and another for the King? This is sheer autocracy. Some saints and Godmen are said to throw suffering back to surrounding Nature or even high above to the outer space. But, the reaction only puts on more fat, and though deferred for the time being, comes back on the person with greater virulence. The law is inexorable. Moreover, it is direct cruelty to Nature. For, Nature is, as though stagnated, polluted and strangled by such senseless action.
Laser treatment & cataract surgery
Prior to Dadaji's arrival in Los Angeles, I had been suffering with a variety of physical ailments including an aggravation of an old injury to my neck. Soon after he arrived, while Judy Maltese, Lydia Lawrence, Kathy Kapps and I were sitting with Dadaji, he did three healings on me by the touch of his hand. I'll never know the full ramifications of His extensive interventions that time.
Before Dada's surgery could take place, doctors had to get his diabetes and blood pressure under control. During this time, Dadaji had doctors' appointments and tests. He also met a few people and talked on the phone to people all over the world. The surgery was performed successfully at Doheny Eye Clinic, University of Southern California. Dadaji's recovery was remarkably fast, amazing attending physicians. He was fitted for glasses. With the improvement of his vision came improvement of his mental state, a great relief to everyone. He appeared less confused and irritable as he had been off and on since the previous summer.
Remember and rely fully on Him
Dadaji has no time for those who come for miracles, self-interest, or to debate philosophy. He draws a few genuine God seekers and their deep longings for God are fulfilled. Thereafter, in times of immense joy His Presence is increasingly felt. And, in times of difficulty, when everything is given over to Him, His Compassion powerfully and undeniably transforms whatever mental (egotistical) obstacles create suffering. These are not just empty words, not just an intellectual exercise. It works. When the going gets rough, Dada advises, remember Mahanam. He creates the problems, let Him solve them. He does. Quickly and in ways we can't imagine, let alone carry out. Living in Truth with Dada is not fatalism; it's full participation in one's life in total trust that He is directing our role in His Leela, His Love Story. Gradually mental modalities, based on the belief that "I am the doer", dissolve and are replaced by total dependence on His Will, based on the recognition that, "He is the Doer". While actively doing what He presents, ego attachment lessens and a very real inner Self-confidence develops. Truth can't be searched, studied, practiced or learned; it can only be lived. Day to day remembrance of Him, doing what is given leaving and the results to Him, is the only way.
We all occasionally find ourselves feeling separate, worried and fearful about various life problems, which become blown out of proportion by mental and emotional charges. Inevitably, with Dada, we realize we can't really resolve anything by our own efforts, no matter how hard we try, no matter how sincere, how selfless our motives. But, when we sincerely acknowledge we can do nothing, that our life is totally in His hands, He brings us into His embrace of Love. What we view as problems are resolved, with our active participation as He guides from within. I've been in the worst imaginable situations, which turn out to be His blessings that serve to eclipse my ego and precipitate full surrender. At these times, with inner vision, I've seen Mahanam as the warp and woof of existence, permeating this world. For the moment, by His Grace, a veil was lifted and I bathed in His Radiance. So many extraordinary experiences like that with Dada. You will undoubtedly have them also.
I've shared details of what it's like to be with Dadaji on a daily basis. What he does fascinates me; I watch him closely. However, I'm always drawn to take the broader, more impersonal view of His Play. Dadaji shows by example that we've come to this world with a mind, emotions and a physical body that cannot be forced through rituals into an artificial construct of so-called spirituality, enlightenment or sainthood. He demonstrates daily, in a myriad of ways, especially through His Fragrance, that the Omnipotent, Omnipresent Guru, God, Dada, Truth is within. From the point of Oneness, from the Root of Creation, Dada's words and actions reflect his message of Truth. Although Dada will ever remain a mystery, we can learn how to live in and enjoy this world by what he said and by his example.
Not only does he show us how to live in the world, but also, Dadaji is assuming an unfathomable burden for humanity. His fall in Delhi was not accidental and we can never know the reasons behind his diabetes, diminished physical vision, and various other ailments he displays. They cannot be dismissed simply as aging and disease. They relate to the transitional period we are in now, as individuals and as a world community.
From a number of reliable sources, I include some of what Dada has said about the shape of things to come and how Dada will leave. There will be great devastations caused by natural calamities, diseases, pestilence, and wars. The population will be reduced by half. No world war, however, which has been and is being staved off by His Love. Those who are rooted in Him will remain unhurt. Bombay will be devastated by a gigantic tidal wave and cyclone. New York will be standing empty, like Mohenjodaro. California will go into rubble. The advancement of science will be stalled. Within forty to fifty years from now, there will be no Christians, Jews, Hindus, Moslems and the like. The Eternal Religion will hold sway over the entire humanity.
Dadaji has come to establish Truth, and we can't guess how he suffers for us. In a world full of "religions" people are fighting over God, money, and power. Although incomprehensible to us, Dada assumes the blindness, mental confusion and conflicts of humanity to pave the way for our awakening to Truth. Now, His Love Story comes to its final conclusion, the birth of Eternal Religion bringing a new age based on Dadaji's message: "Truth is One. Humanity is One. Religion is One. Language is One. Almighty is One. Reality is One. A person can do nothing. You just remember Him, do your duty to your work and your relations, and enjoy Him. That is enough."
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