Month: November 2015

When Master Kamlesh Patel visited Austin in June this year, we Texans were beyond excited about the opportunity to meet our spiritual Guru. Personally, I had never met any of the Masters of Heartfulness in my life in spite of being in the system for almost 8 years. Circumstances had never been favorable for me to be able to travel to meet the previous Master. I started with Heartfulness when our previous Master, Chariji was still physically present on this plane. Like everybody else, I too yearned to meet him but it never really worked out.

In December 2014, I was relaxing in a shady corner under the coconut trees on a peaceful beach in Puerto Rico… reading Chariji’s book when my friend sent me a text message letting me know that our beloved Master had passed away. I quietly closed the book and stared at the ocean. I was absorbing the news. After a few minutes, I finally managed to smile. I was happy that my Master’s physical ordeal had come to an end. Deep inside, I had been concerned for his health. But I wasn’t worried about anything else other than that. I did not shed any tears. There was no need to.

Some friends asked me if I felt sad because I did not get a chance to meet him before he was gone. At that point in time I did not say anything other than a simple “no” and I am sure they did not believe me. But it did not matter.

When our new guru, Master Kamlesh was visiting Austin, which was only three hours away from where I lived, I was definitely not going to miss the opportunity. I drove to Austin and we had a lovely gathering with our new Master. I am glad I went to the gathering because I learned some very important things about myself. Had I not been there, I would never be able to share this experience with you through this post.

During lunch at the gathering, a close friend asked me an innocent question. She said to me, “I know you speak so highly of the previous Master and we know how much you loved him…so based on that, what do you think of this Master? Are you able to accept him as the new Master?” At that very moment I felt a huge lump in my throat and I was unable to speak. She was waiting for an answer and I knew I had to say something to not hurt her feelings by being quiet. But before I could respond, I ran into another older friend in the crowd who stopped to say hello. She had something very similar to discuss with me about our new Master. She said, “Yes, I know he is the new Master but the old Master was something else. I am sure the new one will eventually evolve to be like the old one.” By now the lump in my throat began to hurt immensely. I smiled politely and went back to my friend who had asked me the question. In both cases, I sensed some kind of insecurity, doubt, and hesitation.

There was so much I wanted to tell them but I remained silent. I had learned it the hard way that people don’t really understand what other people feel or what other people are going through until they themselves experience it. Empathy is difficult to develop these days. I believe that being deeply empathetic is one of the greatest spiritual blessings. So I really did not think they would understand my feelings for my Master. However, I was going to do my part. I was going to try. I answered my friend’s question in very simple words.

I told her that I felt extremely unworthy to discuss what I thought about the current Master. I was not spiritually accomplished to give my opinion about him. However, I told her that I had absolutely no problem in accepting him as my new Guru. Nothing had changed for me. I had never met Chariji and I loved him deeply. I had only heard of the two previous Masters before Chariji but I felt completely connected to them too. If I could be in great love with the Masters before Chariji, why couldn’t I love the Master after him? Only the physical bodies had changed over the years. Everything else was the same. I did not care one bit about the current Master’s shape, size, or color. I could only sense the Love in him. The same Love is carried over from one Master to another. Love doesn’t change even if physical bodies change. I told her that I experienced my Master and His Love in such a way that I did not feel the need to hang his pictures on my wall or have their photo frames on my table. My Master is Love himself. I use the words “Master” and “Love” as synonyms for each other. I do not see any difference in them. And this Love was so great and grand that no photo or a physical human body could contain it within itself.”

She nodded in agreement but I don’t really know how much she personally understood or agreed to. And I thought that was absolutely okay. We are all on the same journey; going towards the same source, only at different speeds. I knew she would reach this stage eventually. Maybe she would have a better understanding than me and someday help me understand things that I did not.

Yes, personally I have been through my own “photo phase” too. We all do! And there is nothing wrong with it. That is also a phase that needs to be embraced lovingly. Possessing the pictures of Masters, meeting them in person, and reading the books written by them is very necessary. We need these tools to know about them and understand their teachings. We need these things to introduce our children and the future Heartfulness generation about spirituality and meditation. One cannot reach the stage of not needing the books, photos, and tools like these without going through what I call the “photo phase.” But we also have to remember that these are only means to help us reach the goal and not the goal itself. I believe sooner or later we will all overcome this material phase and be directly connected to the inner Master. It is never about the current Master evolving to be like the previous Master but about us evolving to be like our Master.

So you may ask me if I had overcome my “photo phase”, what was I doing at the gathering eagerly waiting to meet the physical Master. Personally, I drove all the way to Austin to pay my respects to my Master. I knew he and I were connected beyond the material plane but he had traveled all the way from India to meet us; so couldn’t I drive at least three hours to acknowledge his loving gesture?

It is always a great thing to be able to meet your spiritual Guru in person. But not everyone can do so. We could face issues like health problems, financial difficulties, or even immigration issues to be able to travel to our Master. And he knows it. I know deep in my heart that he knew the problems I went through in reaching him physically so he reached out to me by blessing me to overcome my sadness of not being able to meet him while he was still on this plane. He blessed me with a greater understanding of what a Master truly is. He helped me understand that he was not his body, pictures, books, or a pendant. He was only and only Love. And that Love needed to be felt inside me. My Master never resided outside of me; he had always been inside me.

Chariji had never left me. How could he? Over the years, he had blessed me with his divine transmission (pranahuti) – the life force itself. Through this divine transmission, he continues living through me. He continues living through all of us and also through our current Master. He has left back his divine legacy in our form. Now, it completely depends on us what we choose to do with this legacy – with ourselves! I believe it is time to multiply and move his legacy forward with our actions, faith, and most of all with Love.

Tilo hurriedly walked towards the ICU. She was running a few minutes late for her ICU posting. Tilo was a young 22-year old medical intern at a hospital in India. While her focus was only on reaching the ICU as soon as possible, she heard a loud call, “Akka” from a nearby economy ward window. She did not pay attention because there was nobody who could call her Akka (meaning older sister). Akka was a term used in Indian villages to address one’s older sister out of love and respect. Tilo was a city girl. Why would someone call her by that name? She kept moving forward. She again heard the word, “Akka” and this time it was loud and clear.

Tilo finally stopped and turned back. A little boy of around 6 years of age was frantically waving at her from the economy ward window. He wanted her to come to him. Tilo did not have the time but she couldn’t break his heart. She broadly smiled at him and walked back towards his window. His joy knew no bounds. She asked him why he had called her. He did not know what to say. He was blushing. He hid behind his mother. Tilo smiled and waved at him and continued walking to the ICU.

For the next few days the same story repeated. Tilo was getting used to meeting her little friend Arun daily. She made it a point to get him candy  everyday. Arun’s parents told her that Arun thinks she was his fairy or a princess. Arun had heard stories of beautiful fairies and princesses from far away lands, from his village elders and he thought Tilo fit their description perfectly. His parents told her he still couldn’t decide what Tilo reminded him of – a fairy or a princess. Tilo giggled and liked the idea of being a fairy-princess for Arun. Although Tilo and Arun spoke different languages, they managed to understand each other. One day she stopped to talk to Arun’s parents about his health. They told her that they were very poor farmers from a nearby village. Their son Arun was being treated for gangrene at the hospital.

Tilo looked at Arun’s foot wrapped in guaze pads and bandages and had a lump in her throat. Gangrene was not a good sign. She hoped that Arun would get better soon. Tilo and Arun’s love for each other grew every day. To him she was an absolutely beautiful fairy-princess and he felt privileged and honored to receive her attention. For Tilo, Arun was her little angel who was teaching her courage and happiness each day. She admired his spirit that was never dampened by his poor health and extreme poverty.

Like all love stories, Tilo and Arun’s story also had its own storms to go through. That afternoon had arrived. Tilo was dreading this day but she knew she had to be near Arun that day. She did not know what she would see and how she would go through it but she decided to meet Arun. She slowly walked down the hallway breathing heavily. She finally reached the economy ward where Arun was being treated with several other patients. She had reached just in time. Arun was eagerly waiting for her. She handed him his candy as usual and stood next to him with no expression on her face. She was scared for Arun.

Arun’s doctor and nurses arrived to take off his bandages one last time. It took them few minutes to unwrap his leg. The bandages came off and Tilo looked at Arun’s leg. The gangrene had eaten away Arun’s foot. It had to be amputated to stop the infection from spreading to rest of his leg. Tilo stared at it. She was numb. Although she was a medical student, this situation was new to her. She stood there not being able to react.  She was suddenly shaken from her numbness by Arun’s voice. She quickly looked at him and caught him staring at her and looking directly into her eyes.

She knew she had to act soon. Arun himself looked shocked by not seeing his foot. He had been prepared for this moment but how could someone really prepare a 6 year old about loss of a foot. Arun began to cry but he did not stop staring at his Akka. His eyes had a lot of questions for her. Nobody understood the powerful intensity of that moment. Nobody realized that Arun had asked Tilo the most important questions through his innocent eyes.

But her heart had heard them all. At that very moment Tilo held Arun’s hand tightly and gave him her most radiant smile. Their eyes met. She conveyed to him that she still loved him and will always love him. They hugged. All Arun needed was her approval and her acceptance. She told him she was so proud of him. Arun stopped crying and smiled. Tilo clapped her hands and the hospital staff and other patients joined her. They all cheered Arun for his courage. Arum beamed at everyone. He was not embarrassed about losing a foot anymore.

Arun finally went to bed knowing that his fairy-princess still loved him. He knew in his heart that his Akka would never stop loving him even if he did not have a foot. Arun had made peace with his situation but everything had changed for Tilo in that moment. Tilo had cried all day after coming home. She loved Arun like her little brother and she could not imagine how his life would be after this. She kept thinking, “Will the other kids accept him when he goes back?” “How will he play?” “How will he run?” Arun was too little to even think about these things. She knew he would eventually have to adapt to his reality.

Deep in her heart she knew she had done the right thing. She had told him that it is not his foot that made him whole in her eyes. It is his heart and the love in his heart that made him complete in her eyes. Tilo could not forget the look in his eyes. The look that asked her deeply, “Will you still love me or are you nauseated looking at my amputated leg?” Tilo trembled in fear while she thought, “What if she had not caught that question in Arun’s eyes? “What if she had not been able to control her tears in front of him?” “What if she had not given him her brightest smile when she saw his leg?” “What would have happened to this little boy’s confidence if she had not hugged him in a timely manner?”

Tilo told me that she would have created another future for Arun if she had not acted on time. Every child believes in something or someone when they are growing up. And that someone in turn teaches the children to believe in themselves when they grow up. During his hospital stay, Tilo had become Arun’s reason to accept and heal faster from his sickness. Her smile, acceptance and love was all he needed to accept himself. She was happy that she was blessed with a loving heart to give Arun what he needed the most at that time. Soon after that Arun left for his village with his parents to begin a new life.

I asked Tilo if she missed him after that.

Tilo replied with twinkling eyes, “It has been ten years since Arun came in my life and to this day the word Akka still echoes in my head.”

Tilo continued, “2-3 months after Arun left, I was walking in the hospital with my friends when I suddenly bumped into Arun and his parents. He was back for a routine check up. The minute Arun saw me, he ran into my arms. I sat down so he could hug me. What amazed me even more was in spite of having an amputated leg inside his bright red canvas shoes, he was walking and running. Arun had learned to adapt. He had accepted his situation.”

Tilo took a long pause and dreamily looked into nothingness and finally said to me, “Arun had accepted his leg the way it was but I had never been able to accept such a cruel fate of this little boy. I stepped in his life for a purpose but I think his purpose for stepping in my life was greater. His role in my journey was bigger. There couldn’t be a better closure to our story.”