Out of it pointed the long black muzzles of four great guns: two to the East and two to the West. Then a voice spoke... "God is angry! He has been blasphemed! He is now going to speak!"
Considerably perturbed, on falling asleep the following night I prayed for another dream, which would tell me what was going to happen. This time I found myself walking along the bank of a wide and peaceful river. The landscape was at rest and all seemed tranquil, some people walking about unconcernedly. Then suddenly the atmosphere changed. On turning around . I saw something gleaming white, far down the reach of the river. It was the white crest of a huge tidal wave advancing very slowly up the river. In time it would flood all the ground which spread our in a flat expanse to the far horizon—the plains of civilization. As I searched for a means of escape, I noticed that my path wound away across the plain to a pyramid-shaped bill which stood out plainly. I woke up shouting— "We must all make for that hill, and I must warn the people!"
The second World War came, and while waiting for the Blitz, I met in London a stranger who explained, amongst other things, that there was a certain man in India, known as Sadguru Meher Baba, —called the Silent Saint, because He did not speak, and had declared that He would not break His silence till the new dispensation came into being.
As I walked home across the Park, which was empty and deserted, for the children had already been evacuated, I wondered, and my inherent skepticism made me very doubtful; when suddenly I again became aware of the divine afflatus, a warm glow which seemed to have descended from the air. I do not know, but it was the Love of God, that Love which has to change humanity. For only Divine Love can make a better-balanced humanity, more capable of coping with its problems than today. Do we not need divine intervention, a new dispensation" to save the world? Must there not be a descent of the Christ-Consciousness, a new awakening of the Spirit, to replenish and regenerate our poor tired tortured earth? Thus the Word would again be made flesh!
Later, I went to India and on arriving at the retreat where Meher Baba lived, I saw the pyramid-shaped hill of my dream—at Pimpalgaon!
The Master's message to the world is that the tidal wave of destruction has to rise still higher, before man will heed God, for the world is witnessing an acute conflict between the forces of light and the forces of darkness.