Babaji's miracles were well-known.
Swami Vijayananda, an eminent sadhu
writing about Babaji, said that Baba Nibkarori's very name radiated an
aura of mystery and miracles. There were many devotees—not
educated or
literate—who used to know him only as Chamatkari
Baba—the Baba of
miracles. Since we had come to know him, we were experiencing miracles
one after another.
One year there was a very heavy flood of the
Ganges and the Jamuna Rivers at Allahabad. Floods are a yearly affair
during the rainy season, but that year the flood was devastating, even
the fort at Allahabad was damaged. There is a Hanuman mandir
on the bank of the river, and every year the murti
goes under water. As the water recedes, Hanuman ji comes out, little by
little, covered with mud and debris. The pujaris
take some days to clean him. But that year the flood was so severe that
there was danger that the entire mandir might be
washed away.
The pujaris
were worried and approached Dr. Katju, the Defense Minister, who was in
Allahabad because the flood was threatening the fort. Dr. Katju was a
devotee of Babaji and was accompanied that day by another devotee,
Bhavanath Bajpi, who narrated this story to me. The pujaris
said, "This flood is so severe, many pipal trees
that have stood for centuries have been washed away. You must do
something to save the Hanuman temple!"
Dr.
Katju said, "What can the army do? Only Hanuman can save himself. Of
course, Baba Nibkarori could do it; he is actually Hanuman."
While
they were talking Babaji arrived in jeep, shouting, "What's the matter?
What's the matter?" They told of the fears for the temple. Maharaj ji
went to the river and took some water in his palm and sipped it, just
sipped it. He said, "It will go, it will go." In three days the water
receded and the temple was saved.
In January 1962, Babaji
left Allahabad for a few weeks to visit some important centers of
pilgrimage: Dwarka, Rameshwaram, Jagannath Puri, and others. Tularam
and his family accompanied him. While they were at Dwarka, the head
priest of the temple pointed to Babaji, "That baba
with the
blanket lives here all the time." Babaji kept silent as the priest
talked. That was the first time I had heard of him being somewhere else
at the same time that we knew Babaji was staying in Allahabad.
Afterwards we had many experiences of his being at different places at
the same time.
Another example of this happened when devotees
had just completed the building of a new Hanuman temple for Maharaj ji
in Panki, near Kanpur. At the time of the official opening ceremony,
Maharaj ji was in Allahabad and told everybody that he wouldn't
personally attend the function.
On the morning of the ceremony
in Panki, Maharaj ji went into his room in Allahabad after his bath and
said to me, "I shall sleep today, I am not keeping well." He covered
himself with his blanket and told me not to allow anyone to come into
his room. He was locked in from the outside.
The next day some devotees arrived in Allahabad to give out prasad
from the puja in Panki. They described the
colorful puja and bhandara
and said everything had gone perfectly—Maharaj ji had even
come,
although he said he wouldn't. We said, "That's impossible. Maharaj ji
was here in Allahabad the whole time!"
"Well, he was also in Panki. He was at the temple from seven until
twelve o'clock."
After Babaji returned from the pilgrimage to Dwarka in 1962, many
devotees arrived and we went on enjoying the satsang
with Babaji staying the house almost all the time. One day he went out,
accompanied by Tularam, Sukla and a few others. I had to remain in the
house. At the time of the midday meal, Ma, Maushi Ma, Didi and myself
felt we could not take our food as long as Babaji had not returned.
He
was out for the whole day and returned in the evening. The daily
visitors had already arrived and were waiting for him the hall, which
was full to capacity. As Babaji entered the gate, he began shouting at
me, "You are a fool and have kept everyone hungry. You should not have
done that. Bring my food. I am very hungry. Bring it immediately!"
This
was very surprising. Usually he took his food in his room, with only
the Mothers present. He often said, "Food and prayers should be done in
seclusion." But this time he insisted on having his plate brought in
and placed before him. He started distributing the chapatis
from the plate to the people sitting in the room. When one bunch was
finished, I took another from the kitchen where Didi was preparing
them. When Babaji started distributing the chapatis,
there
were hardly twenty pieces in the pan from which they were served. When
he had finished feeding over one hundred persons, Didi found her pan
still full!
After the visitors had gone away, he began talking
to me in an entirely different tone. "Dada, you should not have kept
others hungry. If you had taken your food they would have joined you.
See, Ma, Maushi Ma, and Kamala are hungry. Dada, I was on the bank of
the Ganges. It was so nice and peaceful that I could not leave it. You
should not keep anyone hungry."
The next day he again left in
the morning along with some devotees. Before leaving, he told me that
if he were late in returning, I should not keep anyone hungry. If I
took my food, others would join me.
After he had been gone only
a few hours, someone came and told me that Babaji was on the bank of
the Ganges and wanted me to come there. Didi accompanied me. The
journey was easy until the riverbed started and it was difficult to go
over the sand by rickshaw. We reach the place where Tularam, Siddhi
Didi, Sukla and Girish were waiting, but Babaji was not there. They
said that after sending the message to us, Babaji had gone towards the sangam,
not allowing anybody to accompany him. This had been several hours ago
and they felt he must have left the sangam
and gone someone else. They said it was of no use staying any longer
and we should return, especially since obtaining transport was so
difficult there.
I did not agree and wanted to wait for his return. I said I would go to
the sangam
and see if he was there. Girish, a young devotee, accompanied me. The
route was along the bank of the river—we could see the Ganges
on our
left and also the sangam in the far distance
ahead. After we
had gone some way, Girish looked around and said, "Chachaji [uncle],
let us return. Babaji cannot be seen. He must have gone away." I
continued going ahead. The same scene was repeated twice more. I didn't
want to return, but now I had to think of Girish. He had followed out
of his love for me, and if I moved ahead it would be a torture to him,
a sad return for his love. But I could not go back as I felt that
Babaji couldn't have gone away. He had sent for me; he would give me darshan
here. So I was in a fix, unable to move in either direction. Suddenly
Girish shouted, "Chachaji, here is Babaji!"
Looking
at the river, we saw a small boat coming toward the shore, with Babaji
sitting on it. The most striking thing was that we had been walking
only a few yards away from the water. We had kept our eyes open,
searching for him. I was so excited by this sudden appearance that I
couldn't say anything. When the boat anchored we got on it. It was very
hot out and Babaji had dropped his blanket, sitting on his bare body.
Babaji began heckling me with all kinds of questions: when had I gotten
his message, had I come alone, how long did I sit with the others, and
so on. But I would not reply to his questions, my heart was too full.
There was a Vaishnavasadhu
sitting with Baba and he began narrating his story. Babaji did his
utmost to interrupt, but the sadhu shouted as
loudly as he could. The sadhu had come for the Magh
Mela. The mela was over and many sadhus
had gone away. The day before, while the remaining sadhus
were in their huts, they saw a person in a blanket loitering around.
They asked him where he lived.
"I have no place to live."
"What about your food?"
"I eat if someone feeds me."
One of the sadhus asked if he would like to stay
with them. "If you will feed me, I will stay."
After eating, the sadhus
prepared some ganja and were passing the smoke around. When it was
Babaji's turn, he jumped up and began abusing everyone. "These wretched
and corrupt drug addicts want to spoil me also. I hate sitting with
these scoundrels." He got up and went away.
Some of the sadhus went and searched for him.
When they inquired at another camp if anyone had seen a man in a
blanket, an old sadhu
said, "You did not recognise him? That was Baba Nibkarori." This was a
revelation to them. They had heard much about Baba, but had never met
him.
That morning the sadhu had seen Babaji moving
before his hut and had followed him. Baba started to talk to him and
they had been together all day. The sadhu was
jubilant. "I have had the darshan of Bala Gopala
[Boy Krishna]!"
Our
boat reached the place where the others were waiting. All were happy
that we had found Babaji and brought him back. However, it was late in
the day and it would be difficult getting back home because Babaji had
not yet taken his food. Babaji said, "Something will happen." After a
few minutes, a devotee arrived in a station wagon. Babaji asked
everyone to get into the car and return home, saying he would come
afterwards along with me. He insisted they must return as Ma and Maushi
Ma were waiting with their food. They left rather reluctantly.
We
two were alone. After a few minutes he started asking me questions
about the whole affair, beginning with the message he had sent. The
questions had to be answered, there was no option because he hammered
it out of me. "When you got the message, what did you think about it?"
"I didn't think about it. I just came here."
"When you did not find me here and the people told you Babaji must have
gone away and you should return, what did you do?"
"I waited there for your return."
"Why
didn't you believe that I must have gone away?" When I didn't reply he
repeated the question. "Tell me what you felt about it."
I told him that my only belief was that since he had sent for me I was
sure to have his darshan.
"You thought so. You were right. You had your darshan."
After that I had to narrate the whole episode of going towards the sangam
and Girish asking me to return.
"You
did not agree with him and continued. But then you stopped suddenly and
could not return back or continue forward." I said this was so. "What
were you doing when you stopped moving?" For a long while I could not
reply. He started stroking my hair and repeated the question,
insisting, "Tell me. Tell me."
Then I said, "I was saying 'Ram Ram.'" It was as if something extracted
the reply out of me.
He whispered slowly, as if pouring the words into my ear, "Ram
nam karne se sab pura ho jata." [Everything is accomplished
by taking the name of Ram.]
Looking back, I realised how nicely the drama was enacted from
beginning to end, finishing with the Mahamantra
[Ram Ram]—the crux of all his teachings. The Mahamantra
was not for any particular individual or for me alone, but for the
generations of devotees who are attracted to him.
While
we were sitting there, a devotee brought some food for Babaji, who said
he was not hungry. I asked if I could offer the fruits to a sadhu
who was living in a nearby hut. When I returned Baba said, "We must
return to the house now. Ma and Maushi Ma are waiting for us. We shall
take food at home."
It was late afternoon when we reached the
house. After the visitors had dispersed and Babaji had returned to his
room, we sat together as was our daily routine. The devotees staying in
the house were very keen to hear the whole story. Afterwards Sukla
exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, "Oh Dada, how fortunate you are. You
had the precious mantra on the sacred bank of the Ganges."
A few days after that, Babaji left Allahabad. The day before he left he
told me, "Dada, you stay at home."
I
told him I would do so, although I didn't understand what it meant.
When I asked Tularam, who was sitting with me, he said, "Udhav
[Krishna's friend who brought messages from Krishna to the gopis,
here used to refer to Dada as Maharaj ji's messenger], we do not
understand it now, but we will know in due course." Since then, I have
come to stay in the house year-round, except to go to my work at the
University or when I was in the company of Babaji or when he sent for
me to meet him at Kainchi or Vrindaban. My visits to friends and
relations all came to an end.
We never knew when Babaji might
come unexpectedly. Aside from the visit during the winter months, he
would sometimes come for a short visit any time in the day or night. It
would certainly have been very painful if we were not in the house when
he arrived.
In February 1963, Baba said one day that we should
go to Chitrakut. There were a large number of devotees staying in the
house at that time, and when we gathered together late at night, there
was much speculation about who was to be included in the party. The
next day we took our meals early, and then two cars—a party
of
thirteen—left for Chitrakut.
It was late in the afternoon when
we reached the outskirts of the town bordering the forest area. There
were no markets or shops, just a roadside stand where we had our tea.
Babaji had me ask the chai wallah to prepare our
food for the
night. Kanhai Lal was asked to search for some accomodations. He said,
"There are no houses nearby. How can we get accomodations?"
Babaji pointed to a building a little further away, "That is a
government inspection house. Talk to the chaukidar
there."
Kanhai Lal went, then returned disappointed, saying, "The chaukidar
will not allow us to stay without a written order from the authorities."
Babaji
said, "You don't know how to tackle such situations. Give him ten
rupees and he will open the doors for you." This is what happened and
we went there for the night.
After we had fixed up our things,
Babaji said we should go and take our food because the area was not
safe at night—the forests were infested with wild animals.
When we
reached the chai shop, Babaji asked for his food, but it wasn't ready.
Some vegetables were cooked, but not the one we had specially requested
for Babaji. I was much distressed because Babaji was pressing for his
food. I rebuked the shopkeeper, who said that since the squash was only
for one person and would not take much time to prepare, he had kept it
as the last item. It would be ready in a short while. But Babaji
wouldn't wait.
He was sitting in the car and I carried his chapati
to him, since that was already baked. He knew how very painful it was
for me to serve him an incomplete meal and he tried to console me,
"Dada, do not be distressed. Get me a pinch of salt. You do not know
how sweet it tastes. I have eaten such kind of food very often." I
brought some salt and stood beside him, keeping the salt on my palm. He
praised the food, "A hot chapati with a pinch of
salt is the
sweetest food to eat." Of course, I was not convinced and continued to
be sulky. Most of us could not take our food that night as we had
already lost the taste for it.
Our visits to different places
were to begin early in the morning. At daybreak, Babaji began shouting
for us to get ready quickly. We had our tea and were waiting for the dandi
that had been engaged for Babaji. The dandiwallahs
were to come at eight. By nine o'clock there was still no trace of
them. Babaji began upbraiding Kanhai Lal who had arranged it. When they
did arrive, Kanhai Lal burst out with rebukes at how late they had been.
Their
reply was, "You cannot understand how difficult it is to come out in
this rain and cold. You have plenty of warm clothes on you, but what do
we have?" It was early February and the cold had been intensified by a
night of drizzling rain. The two men were lean and shivering with cold.
When Kanhai Lal asked them to start they asked for eight rupees,
although the agreement had been for six rupees. One of them pointed to
Babaji and said, "Six rupees for this passenger?"
I do not
understand how it came out of my mouth, but I said, "You will have your
eight rupees all right, but your passenger is very light." Babaji
looked at me significantly and smiled. It still continues to be a
mystery how they knew Babaji was the passenger out of the whole bunch
of us, as well as my comment that the passenger was light.
We came to Kamodgiri, the sacred hillock. The distance to be
circumambulated was a few miles. Babaji got into the dandi
and we were on foot. There were a number of temples and places of
interest along the way. Babaji would be in the dandi
for some time and then would get down and walk. I was with him all the
time, either moving with the dandi or walking
with him.
As
we went along, Baba would be commenting or explaining. We were often
waiting for the others to catch up. Finally as we were walking, the dandiwallahs
following behind, we came to the place where the cars were parked. I
asked whether we had finished our journey and he said this was so. When
I looked back, the dandiwallahs were nowhere to
be seen. They
had simply disappeared! I asked Babaji where they were, as they had not
yet been paid. "Dada, they said that they had done a very virtuous act
and they would not accept any money in payment."
I got very excited and shouted at him, "Well, they have done a virtuous
act all right. But what about their children?"
Seeing
how upset I was, Babaji put one hand on my shoulder and began stroking
my head with his other hand. The rest of the party reached us then and
asked what was happening. Baba said, "Dada is angry with me because the
dandiwallahs have gone away without taking
payment." Someone
said that they must have been paid already. I got furious because only
Babaji and I had been with the dandiwallahs and
when I was
with him money always came out of my pocket. Babaji, all smiles,
whispered in my ear, "Dada, do not get angry." So, who those dandiwallahs
were I cannot say. It was simply one more mystery.
Later we were standing on the ghat before the
temple. Across the river a dead body was being carried on a litter by
men chanting, "Ram nam satya hai. Ram nam satya hai."
[The name of Ram is infinite truth, traditionally chanted in India by
those bearing a dead body to the burning ghat.]
Babaji said, "You see, that is how all life ends, with 'Ram
nam satya hai.'
People take the name of Ram only twice: when they are in very great
difficulty, and when they are carrying a dead body to the cremation
ground."
After that we visited two other places and then Babaji
said it was time to return to Allahabad, although it had been expected
that we would stay three days. He said that Dada was angry so we had to
return. While getting into the car, he told me, "Dada, one has to
return to Chitrakut many times for darshan. It cannot be done in only
one visit."
We came to a nearby market town and went to visit
the workshop of one of his devotees. The people were delighted to see
Babaji and one went to arrange for food while a few others took Babaji
around to see the premises. I and two others were sitting with the old
manager of the workshop. Talking to us about Babaji and his grace, he
recollected an event which had happened years back.
Babaji was
in the habit of visiting a nearby village. One evening he came to the
house of a devotee where he often took his food. The lady of the house
came out crying bitterly and said, "The person who used to serve you
your food is lying there." He lay dead, surrounded by the people who
had come to arrange for his cremation. Babaji sat down by the man, put
a part of his blanket of the man's body, and began talking to the
people around him. Everyone was looking at Babaji and listening to him.
After some time, Babaji got up and said he would go and take his food
somewhere else. No one thought of stopping him. After Baba had gone
away, the man lying there sat up as if from sleep and asked, "Why am I
lying here?" Everyone was so dazed that no one could reply.
While
we were talking, the food was brought and served to all. We all enjoyed
the food so much after starving the night before. As we were returning
to Allahabad, Babaji said, "We are returning because Ma has prepared khir
for Babua and is looking at the road waiting for us." Babua was Didi's
nephew, a young boy who was in the party. Ma was happy when we returned
and said she knew we would be back because Babaji was aware of what was
in everyone's mind.
A very striking thing that I had noticed
while going around Kamodgiri with Babaji was that "Ram Ram" was written
on many leaves of the trees around the hillock. I had drawn his
attention to them. All he had said at that time was, "It is like that.
There is nothing strange about it." Two days after our return, I was
alone with him. He asked how I had felt about our visit to Chitrakut. I
asked him how "Ram Ram" came to be seen on the leaves. He talked about
the sanctity of the place, how Rama had santified the whole place by
his presence. Each and every piece of stone bears his footprints on
them. Even the plants and trees, because of their association with him,
treasure his name in their bosom. Babaji said, "'Kan kan me
Rama hai' [Rama is present in each and every particle], and
his devotees get his darshan even now."
That
night in Allahabad when we had just returned from Chitrakut, Babaji was
in his room and the Mothers were with him. Maushi Ma said, "Baba, you
are very kind to everyone, but not to these old women."
"Why, Maushi Ma?"
"You took everyone to Chitrakut, but left us behind."
"Maushi
Ma, Chitrakut is a rocky area and it is very difficult for you to visit
such a place. We shall go to Vindhyachala and you will have the darshan
of the Vindhyavasini Devi. We shall go tomorrow."
The
next day a large party started early in two cars. Didi and her sister
Ashoka stayed behind to look after the household duties. After visiting
the temples we were returning and Babaji said he would go to urinate.
Babaji told the others to remain in the car, and I walked with him some
distance into a field. After urinating, we had walked back a bit when
he suddenly sat down and said a thorn was stuck in his foot. I also sat
down, not in front of him as I normally would, but behind him. Everyone
in the car came rushing out and some began examining his foot. Mr.
Joshi took a pin from the turban on his head and began searching for
the thorn. I was sitting behind Babaji, supporting his head which he
had placed on my shoulder. Little by little he leaned his whole body on
me. It was so light. Suddenly it came to me in a flash what I had said
the day before to the dandiwallahs in Chitrakut,
that their
passenger was very light. I felt that this communication had been his,
with my mouth serving as his instrument. This happened many times
afterwards also.
A month after Babaji left Allahabad, Didi's
father died and we had to go to Kanpur to attend the ceremony. We had
had no news of Babaji since he had left, but somehow I had the feeling
that we would meet him there. When we reached Kanpur, Didi's sister
Ashoka and her uncle were waiting for us at the station, saying they
had just received word that Babaji had arrived and was staying with Dr.
Dixit. We went to his house, but Babaji was not there, having gone to a
devotee in another part of the city. This house was situated some
distance from the main road and was reached by going through a narrow
lane. We got down from the car and had started down the dark lane when
an old devotee came carrying a flashlight. He had been sent by Babaji,
who told him that we were coming and should be met at the road with a
lamp.
Babaji was sitting on the open roof surrounded by a number
of devotees. There was much jubilation in our meeting. I offered Babaji
a packet of sweets I had brought for him from Allahabad. He exclaimed,
"How did you know that I would be here?" I did not reply. After some
time he asked me to go home and take my bath, as was my custom, and he
would come and visit us there. As I was leaving, he wanted to give me
some prasad but there was nothing nearby. He took
off the
garland that was around his neck and offered that to me, saying, "You
have given me so much, but what shall I give you? These people are badmash.
They do not keep anything for me. You take this from me." I was
overwhelmed by his grace, the soft and affectionate words, and the
sacred prasad offered to me.
He visited us that night
and spent some time with Didi's brother and his family. Next morning he
sent for me, knowing there was no work for me to do in that house. I
spent the whole day with him. In the evening when he was leaving
Kanpur, he dropped me near Mr. Choudhury's (Didi's brother's) house and
I returned to Allahabad that night.
It was all a unique lesson
for me. When we had to go to Kanpur I was distressed with the idea. It
was only a year back that Baba had asked me to stay at home. Here, at
the first opportunity, I was disobeying him and I was not happy about
it. Had it not been so important for us to attend the function, I would
not have left the house. Faced with this situation, I suddenly felt
that I would meet him there and that he wanted me to go. This was the
first time I felt this method of communication. Afterwards I became
more accustomed to it.
Even now, since he has left his body, it
goes on. A few years ago, when the western devotees were asking me to
come to America, I could not take it seriously. It seemed too great a
burden to put on those persons. But pressure continued on every side,
and for days and months I was feeling very helpless about it. Then late
one night I was reading in my room after everyone else had gone to
sleep. The door to Babaji's room was open and I went and bowed at his
bed. Suddenly I felt that he said, "You should go." The next day I
wrote them saying that I would come.
