So I said, "Norina, now please send a cable to Baba. And say I've come to India only and solely to see Baba, with no expectations, nothing at all, not wanting God-realization or goodness knows what — but just to see Baba." I would be unworthy of that anyhow. Still I had no expectations, only to be with Baba under any conditions.
So Norina cabled. Of course I didn't see the report. While they put garlands on us and we were driven around in Bombay, I cried. I didn't see anything. I just cried. We went to the hotel and I gladly would have jumped down, you know, leaped to my death. It was terrible, I thought I had disappointed Baba. Of course, now I would have known better, but Baba doesn't catch you if you know it, He only catches you when you're not aware of it. Then Baba said, Alright, I could come, and I was relieved.
I think the others who were ill went by train, and we went by car. We arrived late at night in an office building in a cantonment in Ahmednagar. Kitty came and said, "Shh!! Baba is going to sleep," and whispered we had to keep going quietly. We had the end room; we four were together again, Hedi near the window, I opposite; there was another window there — and Nadine — and here (pointing) was Helen.
Kitty: The long room?
No, it was square. The other room was long, and outside were little benches, you know, not high, like this, and little stools to take the meals. So — not one word was said anymore; Baba never mentioned it, never said a word afterwards, and of course I wouldn't say anything, I was just there. The others Baba sent home just before the war; nine months later Helen and Hedi went back. Meanwhile, Walter Mertens came and wanted to take Hedi back, but then Baba said to wait.
We toured India with Baba. Helen became ill, she had dysentery; I even stayed with her in the hospital, in Bhopal, and afterwards Kitty wrote that they had nice rooms ready for us and I thought, I wished, if only this Helen would get well soon! But you see it was so difficult. If I took my meals inside she didn't like it, if I took them outside she didn't like it. The poor thing didn't understand English. People can say what they like — to Helen it was a great test, it was very brave of her to come to Baba. So I shouldn't say anything negative. If you think of what she'd gone through! Baba didn't ask her to give up everything, He only said come for two years. But she sold off everything, why? I have at home a typewritten note in German, with the date when they left. Baba explained it. The mistake Helen made, — (yet it wasn't a mistake because Baba also wants things to be this way) — was that she wanted to realize herself, and if you go to a Master, you don't realize yourself, you realize the Master.
I think there are so many ways to see things. When Baba used to tick off one of us, I think there wasn't one of the others who didn't feel it was for him too. Whatever Baba said fitted all of us, we all had these nooks and corners in our hearts, which were not right. Now I think I've said enough.
"I, Too Am An Artist,"
continued from page 7
happy that I was going to paint Baba's portrait. Then I came to Baba and there were only Adi Jr. and Chanji who called me Chu-chu-lu, the nickname Baba had given me. So I started painting. I looked at Baba and Baba looked at me. I shall never be able to tell if the session was long or short. It was very difficult to paint Baba, his eyes were so different. Normal eyes are like buttons, they see nothing. Baba's eyes were looking, alert and shining, then they sank back, his skin took another colour, everything was of a tremendous sensitivity and always changing. Then Baba made a sign: stop! I put my little canvas in the paint box. I only said to Baba: "You know, you are very difficult to paint." "Why?" "Because you are ever changing." He admitted: "That's right. I am ever changing. I too am an artist. I have painted — the whole universe." After a while I left and gave the portrait to Norina. I never thought of giving it to Baba; I never looked at it either. I didn't see whether it was good or bad. I never saw it until some years before Elizabeth died and she sent me the portrait which now is in my private room in Paris.