My Visit in India

Dona G. Kelley

My long – desired wish, nourished during the lifetime of my own beloved Sawan Singh Ji, has now been ful-filled through the loving grace of our dear Master Kirpal Singh Ji.

It is a rare privilege indeed to be invited for such a visit – and one that can never be forgotten. I wish that all initiates could see Master in his own surroundings, where He is so relaxed. He means so much to his own people in India, whose devotion to him is something for al of us to emulate. Master is truly their Father, both physically and spiritually.

From the moment of our arrival in India, Master's hand was immanent in every situation. As we were going through customs there, the impatient attitude of another passenger irritated the officer at the desk, until it seemed that he was not going to give us any service at all. Noticing that this man was a Sikh, I showed humble the locket I was wearing, bearing the picture of the beloved Sawan Singh. I asked him if he knew Master Sawan, to which he replied in the affirmative. Then I asked, “Do you know Master Kirpal Singh?” he said, “Yes – good man – good man.” I then told him that we were going to Master’s ashram, whereupon he said: “Wait – I will get the paper signed and you may go.” So, we were allowed to go.

Outside the Delhi Airport, Giani Ji was waiting, with a taxi and took us to the Ashram, where we stayed for two days – dear Ram Ji and his wife and Bimla, the house mother, he looked after our comfort, until the morning of the third day, when we left for Dehra Dun. Our “guide” was a dear soul, Har Charan, who speaks perfect English. This trip, by way of manav Kendra, is close to 150 miles, but we were made happy by the driver, Ram Sarup, who chanted praises to Master as he drove along the crowded highway.

Arriving at Manav Kendra, I saw Master standing among the busy workers down the long basin which, when completed, will become the pool of Amritsar.

What a warm and loving welcome was given us! Such heart to heart experience can never be shared – they are something to be locked up in one’s heart and cherished for all times! In the small room which had been built for Master comfort, we were given tea, after which Master sent us to Rajpur, about seven miles from the Center, where he lives. We were given a comfortable room there on Rajpur road, where we spent most of our time. how peaceful and quiet it was there – a truly blessed place! Master granted us his Darshan each morning, out on an grassy spot surrounded by papayas and other tropical fruit trees. Then he would leave for Manav Kendra, where he would spend the day surrounded by about 200 volunteer workers who were engaged in the construction of the oval pool previously mentioned. Later in the day he would send a car down to Rajpur for us and we would join Him at the center, where he would send a car down to Rajpur for us and we would join Him at the center, here he would discuss various phases of work there. As we arrived one morning, we found Him down in the pool where the very first lot of concrete was to be poured – a sort of “foundation stone” – he invited me down; after he troweled the cement, I was handed the trowel; then he handed the trowel to Charles, so that we could share this part of the ceremony with him.

I can give you only the highlights of our stay there, since we moved about a great deal. On the first Sunday in December, Master held Satsang at Delhi, with approximately 5000 people present. Master asked this poor one to speak, so she spoke a few words on Love, through a very able interpreter . . . . . . and so it went, day after day, with Master shedding his grace and love – all of which made me feel very humble. How could anyone deserve the tender, loving care, such as shown me throughout my stay there? Truly, it was a case where “heart spake unto heart.”

Each evening, darshan was held in the front room of Master’s home – the disciples waiting patiently until he returned from Manav Kendra. At such times, all of us felt that we were overshadowed by the very presence of Love – once he said: “You people will never know how much I love you.”

One incident deserves special mention: our trip to Rishkesh, to attend the funeral services of a renowned Yogi, Raghuvacharya by name, who passed away at the age of 115.

From that we heard about this man, his was a very remarkable life, since he passed twice through the portal called Death. At one period, while Master sawan Singh was alive, this Yogi “died,” but was unable to go through the astral plane – Master Sawan brought him back, after opening up the way through the astral region. While Master Kirpal Singh was in retreat in the Himalayas, after the passing of Master Sawan, Yogi Raghuvacharya met our present Master and embraced Him, exclaiming: “You are a Great Saint!” Thus Raghuvacharya became the first person to recognize him as a living Master. Thus, there developed between the two, a strong bond of spiritual kinship. One evening, during our stay at Rajpur, Master was called to Rishikesh by friends of Raghuvacharya, who said that the yogi was quite ill; when Master arrived there, the yogi had died. Two days later, Master went up to Rishikesh, accompanied by all of the American Satsangis who were staying at Rajpur, to attend the funeral and cremation. We passed through many ancient villages on the way up. After a brief interval in the house where the body lay, and after many of the yogi’s friends had come to pay their last respect, the body was placed on a catafalque and carried through Rishikesh. Enthusiasm route to the funeral pyre, joyous music was played, the marigold-bedecked yogi was saluted by passer-by a young man walked beside the catafalque, sprinkling the corpse with rose water – and in this manner a renowned Yogi’s body was laid upon the pyre, on the banks of the Ganges – a very inspiring ceremony, indeed.

We were privileged to spend many wonderfully inspiring days with Master, who was always aware of what was required to make us comfortable, and who always asked about our health, as He greeted us each morning. There were days when we did not reach home until 11.p.m., yet he always came to us for Darshan.

One day, a volunteer worker was digging (or pool), when a very large snake appeared. The man threw out his arm and said, “Get out of here!” The snake, instead of leaving, bit this man, in several places, on his leg. Immediately thereafter, Master gave him two glases ghee (Clarified butter), and sent him back to work. The following day, the man showed us the scar on his leg, and said something in praise of Master. Apparently, he had suffered no pain at all.

Another incident deserves mentioning it concerns a very fine mechanic, who while servicing a car with a motor running, slipped and fell. He threw out his arm to break the fall, and the arm was severed by the blades of the fan in the cooling system. In the local hospital (at Dehra Dun), the surgeon had amputate the forearm, a bit higher, on account of torn flesh. Master told the mechanic: “According to your karma, this is the day you were supposed to die; instead, you have been given more time here, with only your hand being severed.” (Master never speak of such incident – we heard of the two outlined above, from those who are close to Him).

There is so much more that could be said about the wonderful days spent with the beloved Master, but one would have to experience, personally, those time in order to know just what it means to be in the presence. Suffice it is to say that those precious hours were filled with the quiet peace “that passeth all understanding” . . . . . . . . . . . . to be completely emtied of self is to be filled with Love. The Disciples of Master are indeed blessed. May they continually grow in spiritual stature, always hugging close to their breast, that priceless jewel of initiation!

Monday

I

Let the walls of the tower 
of my life in this world
crumble and crack

let them fall about my head 
as I crouch

let me place the rubble
at the feet of my Master

should they be raised again, remade, 
let it be only with the mortar
of his will.

II

Outside, the world rages,
Ties its knots, throws its lances. 

Split this shell, 
That I could not myself do.

Spill the contents.
Let us examine them,
Ridicule and dispose of them.
Then bring the cool, clear water.

III

Long has been the siege.
From my tower, by the last pale rays 
Of a falling sun, I witness the walls 
stormed, overcome, my soldiers carried
off, one by one. I await my turn. Soon
it will be night, more clear than
crystal and cold. Beyond I cannot guess

Rixford Jennings

 

Break off the Old Branch

Break off the old branch
Ruthlessly
Even Beyond where you know
Green shoots will come; 
Even then break off 
Mercilessly –
Cut off near the Root
Where the wine flows forth; 
Then, and only then, 
From the new brave branch, 
A white white rose will grow

Jane Humphrey Miller

 

Thy Birth

Like full moon 
Thy birth
In this Dark age

Like dawn
Thy message 
In this world of death

Like rising sun
Thy coming
Into the chambers of our heart

Like noon-day sun
Thine eyes

Like Setting Sun the parting
From thy presence

Like Moonless night
This Separation!
In this world of sorrow

Micheal Raysson

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