I WANT TO DIE
When I was with Baba he asked, "Did you finish that letter?" I thought I'd be able to take care of it in the morning, so I replied, "No, I didn't have time to do it."
Baba scolded me, "Didn't I tell you that it was urgent? Didn't I tell you it was important? You never listen to me or take what I say seriously."
Baba said no more, but I felt very sad because he had gotten so angry with me again, although he knew I had been with him all day and there was no time to write urgent or otherwise.
Later, as I was pressing Baba's feet, I thought, "It would really be better for me to die. I can't leave Baba because I know I could never be happy without him, but I cannot serve him either. I don't do anything right, and then he gets annoyed with me. If only I would die! It is best if I die."
Suddenly, Baba sat up on his bed and gestured, "Show me how you will walk when you are seventy years old."
I blurted out, "But I don't want to live to be seventy. I want to die. I want to die now!"
"Yes, yes," he nodded, "but just show me how you will walk."
So I walked across the room hunched over like an old man. Baba had me go back and forth from one corner to the other several times. Then during the fourth time across, I started to laugh. Baba also started to laugh at this spectacle. My depression left me and I forgot about dying.
Baba remarked, "Oh, you still have lots of work to do. You have no idea about it now."
WHILE THE WORLD SLEPT, p. 60
1984 © Bhau Kalchuri