I was penning down memories in my diary and I thought to share it with everyone.
A stone, a leaf, a door, and of all forgotten faces. Which of us has looked into his/her father? Which of us has not remained forever in a prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone.
Remembering speechlessly the great forgotten language, the lost lane into the heaven.
Oh so lost, and grieved, Dada reached out to us.
It was bright Sunday morning, all excited to attend a session with Dadashreeji.(Awakening with Dadashreeji on December 18, 2016).We decided to reach the Ashram using public transport. I was indeed looking forward to it, as i was new to the city. Soon from Panvel Station we boarded the bus which led us to Karjat Bus Stand. We comfortably reached Karjat and I could no longer contain my excitement to meet Dada. On reaching the bus-stand, I found the place completely deserted as though there a bus strike.
After waiting for a while, we decided to take a Rikshaw to reach the Ashram. We suitably found a Rickshaw-wala who agreed on dropping us at the Ashram on a stipulated amount of money. My anxiety to see Dada kept multiplying.
Uninterruptedly my prayers continued, to reach the Ashram on time. “My father has to wait for me. He loves me unconditionally”. I kept murmuring internally.
But disguise struck us, when the Rickshaw-wala stopped at a remote corner, where it was difficult to find another means to reach our desired destination. The Rickshaw-wala insisted that he shall not go any further unless we paid him an extra sum. In due course we tried to stop many cars which passed by, but none stopped.
Meanwhile, we were trying to convince the Rickshaw-wala; but he remained adamant.
Incidentally a car stopped. We asked whether or not they were heading towards the Ashram. They said “yes”. In no time we jumped out of the Rickshaw with joy filled in our eyes. But disguise again struck us. The car driver apologised for misunderstanding the place and instead was heading towards on a opposite direction where there was a wedding. He then left immediately.
I was looking at it with a defeated hope. But some say that a defeated hope is in itself a hope too, only it doesn’t breath in the face of the Sun.
Enslaved by my human exasperation of a defeated hope, I turned to my Dada, who like Sun faced me, and mesmerised me by his shine. And then something magnanimous happened.
The car which left us and drove away some 2 miles ahead, came back to take us to our Divine Friend (my Dada, My Father). “Our Dada came to us that day to take us to Him, Himself”.
Being a social science researcher my rationality falls short of explaining this experience. To myself I said, “And why should not I wallow in nostalgia of my Father, My Divine Friend, if thats what it takes to rejuvenate my energy and transcend the silver line which makes a human from being alone and withered to being loved and merciful”.
With this thought I thanked the driver for his service, who had driven us all the way opposite to the Ashram which was somewhere over 6 miles.
Under thd blue sky it was a live experience of my Dada’s Grace. He never stops looking after you.
I love you Dada, my Father, My Divine Friend. 🙏