opinion and approval. As there was hardly any time Brother Adi was also requested to send a few sets of Baba's books and pamphlets immediately, if he agreed to our proposal. Back came the reply that Baba had given His approval, but He had instructed that the display of books and publications should be completely separate and should be partitioned off from the display of hair oil. Then immediately came the railway parcel of books and publications. Baba seems eventually to have cut off the display of Sister Kusum's hair oil altogether, as the same could not be registered by then.
A couple of days before the inauguration of the Fair we got the sad news that no industrial concern was willing to give us a corner in the pavilion, but, if we wished, we could hire a small shop in the shopping center of the Fair on payment of Rupees 3000/—or so. The idea of displaying Baba's books in a shopping center with cosmetics sold on one side and candy on the other was rather distasteful. Further, the members of our Center did not relish the idea of spending such a lot of money on rent for a shop which would be most unattractive in those commercial surroundings. Instead, they argued, the same money could be better utilized on some other appropriate occasion. Some of the members blamed us, the sponsors, for having written to Baba and got His approval for the stall without being certain of the same. The day before the opening, Sister Kusum and two of us having wandered around the whole Fair contacting people to procure a place and having failed, went to engage a shop at least. We were told that the small shops were all hired out and the bigger ones, about which there was no certainty, would cost us double the original amount. Tired and heart-broken we returned home and I could see Sister Kusum at the breaking point. I heard my wife Mona exclaim: "Oh, Baba, You are the Master of the Universe and You could not even get us a few feet of ground for Your Own Cause." I had to pacify the ladies and tell them that even if we did not get a corner in any pavilion we would still do Baba's work, forming a "human stall" with books in our arms! As I lay down that afternoon, I dreamed that a colossal portrait of Baba was installed in the middle of the Fair and a human stream was going into a huge high-domed pavilion full of Baba's books, statues and photographs, displayed on elevated stands.
The Final Shape
In the evening while we were having a cup of tea on the lawns of the