Symbols of the world's religions



Mehera J. Irani

One morning, perhaps a month after Baba started His silence, He came into our compound and stood on the east verandah of the Post Office. Baba had not come there for some time.

I did not see Baba as I was inside the room cleaning His breakfast utensils, but He must have given a clap for one of the girls working in the temporary kitchen. When they came running up to Him He gestured, "Send Mehera!" They came rushing to the room and told me, "Quickly, Mehera, Baba wants you!"

"Oh," I thought, as I went to the verandah, "Baba wants to tell me something. I hope I have not make a mistake."

Baba had freshly bathed, and He was standing on the verandah beside the wooden packing case that He used as a seat. The verandah was raised about eighteen inches above the ground on which I stood looking up at Him.

I could not believe my eyes. Baba was so beautiful. He was very young and very, very slim. Baba's skin was very fair, and this morning there was a pink flush on His face. His brown hair was loose, shining in the sun, with the tips golden and looking like a halo around Him. Baba was wearing a new sadra, fresh and white, which was open at the neck, and the little vee of His chest showing was pink from His being in the sun.

Baba asked me, "What were you doing?"

"I was doing my work, Baba," I replied.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, very happy," I told him. He was making small talk with me. Then Baba sat on the packing case, took the slate and on that He wrote down what He wanted to tell me.

"From the first time I saw you I recognised you as My Radha," He said. And He told me some other things, too, but that much I can tell you.


MEHERA, pp. 87-88
1989 © Avatar Meher Baba Perpetual Public Charitable Trust


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