The Air-India girl had been so impressed by this band of Westerners coming to see an Eastern Master, that she decided to meet Him. Meherjee urged us to pay a visit en masse to the bank to change our money into Rupees, for later there would be no time. Not being able to walk that far, I called for a cab, making my first and biggest mistake, I guess, at the Sahavas , for while I was gone at the bank, Baba called for me and no one knew where I was. At the bank I felt a most peculiar unease and impatience at the whole money-shuffle; on our return to the hotel I discovered the cause! Frantically I prevailed on one of the volunteers to drive me to the colorful arched gate of Guruprasad (he was not allowed further)- I hastened up the dirt road, bordered by gay flower beds and bookstalls, past the supercilious marble noses of Victorian stone angels and up onto the tiled portico of that long-dreamed-of holy of holies—Guruprasad itself! With thumping heart I waited while my name was sent in to Baba. The others He had called that morning had already come and gone. When I walked into the inner hall the first thing I saw from afar was the white light beaming from Babas eyes—it seemed soft and brilliant as a sun, and of all the glimpses of Beloved that came afterward in the crowded Sahavas calendar, I still remember that first marvelous Nazar or glance of Baba. He was seated alone on the couch, dressed in His dear familiar pink jacket and white sadra.

I leaned over to embrace Him and kiss His cheek and remember thinking His eyes are brown, after all!". And also that He was a little stouter than in 1958. Baba asked His special question, "Are you happy?" and I nodded—"To see You." He then inquired how my hip was, and how I had made the trip. Then I heard Mani’s lively voice addressing me and for the first time saw the girls standing at the left. Baba beckoned for me to embrace them ―dearest Mehera, Babas chief woman disciple; Mani, Baba's sister; Dr. Goher; Rano Gayley and Meheru whom I had met in 1952 at Myrtle Beach, and also Naja and Khorshed, whom I had heard so much about. Then Baba asked, "How do I look?" "Beautiful!" I replied. I fell silent, eyes traveling over every line of that beloved and oft-recalled Face, then Baba beckoned for me to leave.

At the lunch table I picked at the odd food, trying to joke with the others, absorbed in my meeting with Baba. After a brief interval our group were all packed onto buses in the charge of Jal, Baba's charming young brother, and Mr. Minoo Kharas. We were going to make a tour of spots in Poona associated with Baba's life. It is indeed a holy city and no doubt one day will be the scene of world-wide pilgrimage.