3. The basket of love

This is an incident form the “Sakayan” of the Bibi Lajo, who served Hazur for many years and is referred to as “Kaki” (a term of affection meaning literally paternal Aunt) by him. Bibi Lajo now lives in Amritsar, and comes regularly to Sawan Ashram, Delhi, for Darshan of the living Master Kirpal Singh – most recently for his birthday celebration in February.

One day the satsang was going home after Satsang. Two or three ladies or five or six men said to me, “Bibi Ji, we have come for Darshan “Please let us see Hazur.” I said, “Hazur will certainly grace you.” The mean time Hazur DinDayal having giving darshan to the sangath and finished his work outside, was going upstairs to take food. I brought these loving souls before him.

Hazur asked, “you are supposed to go?” they said, “yes, Hazur, please keep us in your protection.” Hazur went inside laughing and the thought came to mind that Hazur did not speak much with them. I also went inside.

With great love I asked “Hazur, true king, is your grace becoming less?”

“See here, Kaki! There is much grace but no one takes it.”

with all modesty I said, “true king the grace of the Saints is also unpleasant to some.”

Hazur said, “whenever I go bringing grace to the people houses, they don’t take any.” I asked out of ignorance, “when do you?” Hazur Ji said, “At night from 2 until 6 in the early morning I go from house to house carrying a love of basket of love and compassion. Very few fortunate once take any. When I return, it is still full.” I said, “Hazur, what is the reason for this?”

Hazur said, “Kaki, some are sleeping, some are just engaging in worldly pleasures some fall asleep while doing Bhajan. Those devotees who sit for Bhajan get the grace. I give to them and what is left I bring back.”

I said, “true king, what you say I absolutely true. We people are foolish. The Satguru certainly gives compassion. We worthless ones do not accept it.”

He said, “when Saints come the people do not give respect; when they leave then the people cry. What is to be done?”

I saw today; they cry, they repent. When the Satguru withdraws, the love comes; but at the time of grace, where is the love? Grace lies in bhajan. When the baby cries, only then the mother gives the milk.

To my Guru

I think
In a dark
Peopled room of your eyes
Deeper than God
And up wells in me
Wanting to go
Home
Home
Where your eyes
Live,
Begin and
Never end

Donna Pollard