Baba emphasized that no one must expect to get happiness from others, but be happy in oneself.

So we would try to be gay, not look moody or bored. And Baba, calling the group together, would tell us what a tiring day He had had with the God-mad or the men mandali, thus preparing us to feel sympathetic. "I want to relax. I want to laugh," He would begin. "You," pointing to one of the group, "sing Me a song." To another, "Tell Me a story, a funny joke." If this brought no response, "Tell Me something amusing about your school days; act something; dance." There we sat, glued to our seats, frustrated, getting redder and hotter. Says one, "I have never sung." Another, "I have never danced. I am no good at storytelling. I remember no jokes." Baba goes on hammering, "What, you tell Me you love Me and want to please Me and when I ask, you say 'no.' What kind of love is this?" Some of the group responded spontaneously. But to Rano and me these times were a trial beyond description.