THIS IS MY REST
C. B. Purdom
The long queues of men and women, in turn, controlled by police, were made to move as quick as possible. Many tried to kiss his feet, but there was no time for that. The people were of every class, well-dressed ladies and gentlemen and men in uniform as well as beggars.
The stream of humanity was for some hours smooth and orderly, but towards noon a flow of women and children was interrupted by a tidal wave of men, who impatiently pressed forward to the edge of the platform, in spite of efforts by the Ahmednagar police and the mandali to restrain them.
It seemed, for a few minutes, as if they would overcome Baba. The din was terrific, both on the floor and on the platform, where exhortations for the men to return to their places were broadcast. Finally, Baba mounted his seat on the platform and motioned for them to go back, which reluctantly they did, and the stream flowed on again in swift but orderly fashion.
As the procession continued, Baba would now and then pat some child on the cheek, a man or woman on the head, or recall a woman who had been pushed ahead before he could give her prasad. In the early afternoon his right hand grew so weary that he started giving out the sweets with his left. When some of his disciples asked him to rest, he replied: 'This is my rest.' Every so often he would glance about the platform, sometimes smiling, sometimes gesticulating.
He made no pause for a meal but at three o'clock left the platform for fifteen minutes to visit another part of the park, where they said 20,000 poor people were seated, waiting to begin their meal of wheat grains with curry-sauce, served on large leaf plates. They did not think of eating until Baba first partook of their food. He sat down with them and ate.
THE GOD-MAN, pp. 224-225
1971 © Meher Spiritual Center Inc.