Meher Baba in Iran

Naosherwan Anzar, publisher of the Glow International, spoke informally this afternoon in the Original Kitchen at the Center. He told us about his Archival Preservation Project and all the amazing treasures he has collected over the years, including many documents, photographs, garments, and other items associated with Meher Baba (and even some hair of Hazrat Babajan). With a mandate directly from Baba, in 1966 and 1968, to tell others that He is the Avatar, Naosherwan is determined to share these resources and make the materials available for study as soon as possible. To that end he is raising money to move the extensive collection from his home in Princeton, NJ, to a suitable public center. Please see the Beloved Archives web site for details.

Then Naosherwan went on to describe his visit to Iran in the late 1970s with his mother, in quest of Meher Baba's ancestral history. First he described a little of the history of Iran, where original inhabitants were Zoroastrians, followers of the ancient religion of Zoroaster (aka Zarathustra). The Arab invasion of Persia and subsequent Islamization of the country resulted in persecution of Zoroastrians. Among other things, Zoroastrians were forbidden to wear spectacles or jewelry, forced to tie their turbans in a particular way, and compelled to build houses that could be peered into from the outside by strangers. They and other non-Muslims (including Jews and Armenian Christians) had to pay an exorbitant tax (the jizya). Naosherwan told us that an uncle of his wife, Maharoukh, had been an activist in having this burden lifted from the Zoroastrian community (in 1884, according to Wikipedia).

Various waves of immigration from Iran took place as Zoroastrians fled persecution and discrimination. The Parsis who settled in India some thousand years ago were so called because they came from Pars, the capital of the ancient Persian Empire. A later, smaller wave of immigrants from Iran were known as Iranis (and this included Meher Baba’s father, hence Baba’s birth name of Merwan Sheriar Irani).

So this was the background to Naosherwan’s trip to Iran with his mother. He told us a number of interesting stories. They visited Baba’s father Sheriar's hometown, Khooramshar (as it is spelled in Lord Meher), which is a small town outside Yazd--NOT the Khorramshahr that is a port city on the Gulf. They saw the ruined, abandoned home of Baba’s grandfather, Mundegar. Naosherwan said someone told them the story of how Sheriar as a youth had one day simply walked away from his home; the man pointed toward the wilderness, saying it was the direction in which Sheriar had vanished. No one had any idea where he went. We, of course, know that Sheriar, with the name of God (Yezdan) on his lips, had embarked on a spiritual quest and eventually reached Bombay and then Poona, where his son Merwan was to be born in 1894. (The story of Sheriar Mundegar Irani is told in volume 1 of Lord Meher.)

Naosherwan told of meeting an older woman with beautiful thick black hair. She said, "You see my hair?" Naosherwan said yes, he'd noticed that it was very beautiful. Then she told that she was twelve years old when Baba came to Iran in 1929. All her hair had fallen out because of boils on her scalp, and her parents were distraught, because how would she ever be able to get married? So when they heard that a saintly person (Baba) was coming, they sought his help. Baba asked them to bring a bowl of water. He touched the water and instructed them to apply it to her head three times every day. They did this, and her hair grew in luxuriantly, and remained beautiful even into her maturity. The mandali were later stunned by this tale, according to Naosherwan, as they said they had never heard of Baba performing a miracle like this. The woman said that there had been a subsequent miracle when later her husband had meningitis and Baba came to her in a dream and assured her that when she woke up, he would be all right. And when she woke up, her husband was no longer ill.

That’s as much detail as I am able to report of Naosherwan’s fascinating talk. Next Saturday he is giving a talk in the evening, which I look forward to.

Veiled by Her Simplicity

Ken Coleman wrote this beautiful tribute to a true disciple of Meher Baba:

Perin Irani joined her Beloved Baba Thursday morning at the age of 91. Her various bodily systems had been slowly weakening for many months, and she gently passed away during her sleep around 1:45 AM, Thursday, July 9th, at Baba House in Pune.

I have always found it surprising over the years how little attention Perin Irani attracted. She was hand-picked by Baba to marry his brother Beheram, and had a lifetime of incredible experiences with Baba that go back to the early years. Every facet of her life was directly orchestrated by Baba’s hand. Despite all of this, I often noticed, after speaking with Baba-lovers who had visited Baba House in Pune, that many of them didn't really remember the elderly woman sitting in the main room who possibly gave them Baba's blessing.

For me, one of the highlights of visiting Pune was to see Perin and receive Baba's blessing through her. Although the thought of someone giving Baba's blessing sounds impossible or even arrogant coming from virtually anyone else, receiving it from Perin was something different, something completely pure. There was no Perin when she gave Baba's blessing. She was an empty vessel carrying Baba's love. There were times when I would close my eyes when Perin touched my forehead and I saw Baba in my inner sight touching me.

Those who spent time around Perin knew that half the time she was with them, and half the time she was with Baba in some other world. She had no material interests. She didn't care if she ate gourmet food, had nice clothing or jewelry, or to partake in any worldly activity. She didn't need adoration or attention. She was so simple because her needs were simple. It seems to me that this is why, despite being such a great soul and so close to Baba, that she was not a celebrity in the Baba community. It was her simplicity that veiled her. It is the kind of simplicity that comes from having no personal needs or requirements other than being with Baba.

Over the years she suffered from a number of illnesses but I never felt there was self concern in her suffering. The last time I saw her was in January of this year and although suffering a great deal, her only concern was how I was doing. Her happiness in my happiness was so apparent. Although physically weak, she was emotionally energized about going to Meherabad for Amartithi. This was the one outside “activity” she always looked forward to. No matter how poor her health was, Perin always managed to make the pilgrimage to Meherabad on Amartithi every year. Even at the age of 91, being physically weak and frail, and being the eldest of Baba’s family members, Perin waited for hours with the other pilgrims to take her darshan. As her sons Rustom and Sohrab worked their way in the queue, she sat waiting outside the Samadhi for them to reach the threshold of the Samadhi so she could take her turn. There was no sense of entitlement on her part.

Perin was an inspiration to me and all who knew her and an extraordinary example of true discipleship to her Beloved Baba.

Ken Coleman

Washington, DC

Darwin Shaw and Esfandiar Vesali

Zo Newell recently posted on Facebook this photo of Darwin and Esfandiar embracing at Dilruba on Meher Center, inspiring me to post this 2002 article about a meeting between these two great lions of Meher Baba's love. (Darwin passed away in 2005, Esfandiar in 2006.)

A Visit to Youpon Dunes

On Sunday, June 2, 2002, Esfandiar Vesali and Darwin Shaw, accompanied by a small group of Baba-lovers, visited Youpon Dunes, Elizabeth Patterson’s private residence south of Meher Center in Myrtle Beach, where Meher Baba had stayed for a month (beginning June 7, 1952) to recuperate from his automobile accident. Jonathan, my husband, was videotaping the visit, so I got to tag along and be one of the “flies on the wall.”

As we departed from Dilruba—the house that Kitty and Elizabeth once shared, which is now used for office work, for teas and other gatherings, and as a cabin for special guests (as it is this week for Esfandiar’s party)—it was very touching to observe Darwin and Esfandiar greeting each other with an embrace, two saintly men, somewhat fragile (Darwin is in his nineties, Esfandiar in his eighties) but both entirely blissful and radiant with Baba’s love.

Youpon Dunes, with its nicely furnished suites overlooking the ocean, today is a $5,000-a-week rental for tourists, and we had gotten permission for the visit, which took place amid the activities of the cleaning staff (among whom, someone told me, were a couple of relatives of Frank Eaton, the Center’s first caretaker). When we arrived, it was discovered that there was no longer an elevator, so Darwin and Esfandiar (who walks with difficulty using two canes) were helped up the stairs to sit for a bit in Baba’s room. Across the hall was the room where Mani and Mehera had stayed. (The men mandali had stayed in another house owned by the Pattersons, called Whileaway.)

Baba’s room was bright and cheerful, and Darwin sat and reminisced while Farshid translated his comments for Esfandiar. Darwin commented that the Baba vibes in the room were strong. He himself had not been in the house when Baba stayed there, but he had lived in it previously during the time when preparations were being made for Baba’s first visit to the Center. Those days were like a continuous meditation on Baba, he said, as they lived in anticipation of his coming.

Baba’s 1952 visit to the Center was originally supposed to be for a full year, but he ended up leaving for Ojai, California, after only two weeks. Someone asked Darwin if that wasn’t a great shock, after all the preparations they’d made for a year’s stay. He replied that they had become more resilient by then and went with the flow—whatever way Baba wanted to play it was all right with them: “There’s no vote in it!” Darwin added that he could never get over the fact that Baba even visited the West after the New Life and Great Seclusion. “I guess we needed it,” he concluded.

Baba had wanted Elizabeth to make sure she had her insurance papers before they began the drive, so they stopped at Youpon Dunes and he toured the rooms with great interest, perhaps because he knew to what use they would be put. Darwin described him as calm and poised, knowing full well what was ahead of him.

Darwin recalled the terrible blow to Mehera’s head in the accident, a wound that somehow grew back together. Farshid observed that the fact that Mani was uninjured must have been because Baba wanted her to be strong, to take care of Mehera.

It was a short and simple visit but in its own way momentous. A couple of times I stopped to try to let it sink in that the God-Man had actually stayed here. How incredible. There was something very special about this little pilgrimage, the mood both light-hearted and serious, with chanting of “Avatar Meher Baba ki Jai” upon arriving and leaving.

Meher Baba in Iran

Peter Booth recently sent the following e-mail:

"In 1931 Meher Baba went to Mashhad, Iran, where the eighth Imam of Shia Islam, Imam Reza (765-818), is buried. Meher Baba has said that Imam Reza was a Perfect Master. His shrine is a place of great pilgrimage for Shia Muslims (about 99% of Iran is Shia). Every Iranian Muslim must go on pilgrimage to his shrine at least once in their life.

"As seen in the youtube video the shrine surrounding the Imam's crypt is massive. Non-Muslims are not allowed inside the compound around the Imam's crypt [Meher Baba was of Iranian Zoroastrian descent], and no one, save the caretakers and the high priests (ayatollahs) of Shia Islam, are allowed inside the crypt.

"When Baba came to Mashshad in 1931, he sent one of the mandali to the head caretaker of the shrine with the instruction to tell the caretaker, 'My elder brother wants to sit at night inside the crypt of Imam Reza; please give me the keys.' Of course the caretaker said nothing doing. Baba sent the same mandali member back the next day with the same request, and this time the caretaker gave him the keys, saying, 'Last night Imam Reza himself came into my dream and told me to give you the keys.'

"Baba sat for two nights in complete seclusion inside the crypt seen in this video. Twelve years later he issued this statement:

“'The seed of the tree of My Universal Manifestation is planted in Mashhad, Iran, from where it will spread until it covers the entire earth.'

"It may well be that Baba placed some of his Treasure inside the Imam's crypt and that for the past seventy-eight years, unknowingly, the people of Iran have been taking Baba's Darshan there and getting directly connected to him. And now maybe Baba has decided to begin the awakening in Iran leading to the Manifestation that he promised."

Book Review: Growing Up with God

Growing Up with God by Sheela Kalchuri Fenster, with David Fenster.

Ahmednagar: Meher Nazar Publications, 2009.

Over 800 pages, illustrated with photographs.

Reviewed by Kendra Crossen

Available from Sheriar (East Coast), Love Street (So. Calif.), and Searchlight (No. Calif.)

In this lively memoir, Bhau Kalchuri’s daughter, Sheela, tells her story with the help of her husband, David Fenster, who edited transcripts of her recollections given over many years. This has been a labor of love for both of them, and we must applaud the Fensters for sharing so many inspiring and intriguing glimpses of Meher Baba as well as the men and women who surrounded him. Accompanying the text are 146 photos (half of them in color), most of which are being published for the first time.

Born in 1952, Sheela first met Meher Baba when she was less than a year old, and she lived in close proximity to him from the age of five until Baba dropped his body in 1969, when she was seventeen. She was aware from her earliest years of the sacrifice her family had made in order for her father to serve Baba as one of his close mandali. When she was older, Sheela told Baba, “A rose surrounded by thorns is like God’s beauty – we have to undergo suffering to reach Him.” Baba replied: “True, but when you are near me, I pluck off the thorns, so you don’t get hurt.” Sheela has had her share of suffering. As a youngster she suffered a terrible, painful accident, with severe burns on her back and arms from boiling milk. She almost died of typhoid and from a serious mastoid infection; Baba told her he had saved her from death several times.

Sheela’s parents, Bhau and Rama, both came from wealthy Hindu families and lived in comfort in Nagpur prior to setting aside their lives of privilege for the inestimable blessing of being with Baba. Bhau initially had no interest in spirituality and was pursuing three simultaneous graduate degrees; but a couple of powerful dreams, an unexpected experience at the tomb of the Perfect Master Tajuddin Baba, and a single meeting with Meher Baba transformed him. With the agreement of his pregnant 21-year-old wife, Rama, Bhau left his young family right after his graduation in 1953 to join Meher Baba. Sheela was not yet two years old; her brother, Mehernath, was born a few months later.

Rama then raised her children alone, although with the loving guidance and support of the Avatar of the Age. Bhau was ordered to give up his attachment to his family, although Baba also required him to write regularly to Rama (a number of these letters, containing news, advice, and occasional admonishments, are included in the book). Baba praised Rama for not complaining about being separated from her husband. (In addition, she accepted living in reduced circumstances compared with her upbringing as the daughter of a raja.) Baba has to remind Bhau of the extraordinary nature of his wife’s sacrifice: “You have no idea about her. No woman in the world would live like her, all alone there with two small children. She is really good.”

After a few years Baba called Rama from her parents’ home to come with the children and live near him. They arrived at Meherabad around April 1957 and moved into a bungalow near Arangaon village. Sheela describes her frequent visits to Meherazad, where she witnessed the qualities and quirks of the mandali, as well as precious times with Baba at Guruprasad in Pune. In 1963 the family moved to Khushru Quarters in Ahmednagar, the site of the present Trust Compound, which in those days was a private residence for Adi K. Irani’s family as well as the location of the Ahmednagar Baba center.

Sheela recalls that Baba never referred to her and her brother as Bhau’s children, but always called them the mandali’s children. “Don’t ever say they are Bhau’s children,” Baba declared. “They do not belong to him. They are my family.” At other times, Baba would tell her, “Who is Mani? My sister, you think? I don’t have any sister; I don’t have any brothers. I don’t have a mother or father. … God doesn’t have any relatives. God has only lovers.” A recurring undercurrent in the book is a kind of tension between attachment and detachment in relation to family. Sheela reports that she has always felt that Baba was her true parent. Yet her sense of family is strong as well. Although she did not have much contact with her father while growing up, since he was always busy serving Meher Baba, she loved him dearly.

If anyone ever wondered whether God really cares about the thoughts and feelings of one little pigtailed girl, Sheela is here to lay that doubt to rest. A remarkably bright child—outgoing, talkative, and bold—“Baby” (as Baba and her family called Sheela) would ask Baba outrageous questions, and get answers to them: How can we tell if someone is from another planet? Why doesn’t Baba either make everyone in the world good or kill off the bad people? Why did God have to create ugly creatures? Would Baba please give her some powers so she can fix things that are wrong with the world? Why can’t he make her win the lottery? (Baba’s reply: “Never do that. So many people buy tickets and all their sanskaras go into that. The person who wins thinks he has won lakhs of rupees, but in reality he gets lakhs of sanskaras.”)

If her imperious manner as a child drew complaints from the mandali, Baba defended her, saying that her sanskaras were those of a wealthy, sophisticated person—a princess. “Baby was supposed to be born in a royal family,” Baba explained, “but in order to be near me, I’ve given her birth in this family.” He also said she was supposed to have been born a man—and Bhau was supposed to have been a woman! Baba admitted he had made a mistake in assigning their genders.

Baby’s best childhood friend was Dr. William Donkin. William, as she called him, taught her the English alphabet, fixed her hair in a cute way, impressed her with his artistic talent, and explained to her how to love Baba: “Never demand anything from Baba. Accept what he tells you and follow his orders accordingly. If he wants you to live like this [on little money], accept it. Never ask Baba for anything.” Sheela took such lessons to heart and had an instinct for loving the Beloved: “Because Baba would sometimes pat my head or remark that my brain was sharp and tap me on the head, I never wore hairpins or clips in my hair when I went to Meherazad. Baba might get hurt when I embraced him or when he put his hand on my head. So I braided my hair into two braids to keep it in place. Mehera asked me once in front of Baba why my hairstyle looked old-fashioned. I explained why I had not used any clips, and she was pleased.”

Sheela was allowed to help Bhau with the Hindi correspondence and could not resist adding her own advice directed at any writers whose letters to Baba had annoyed her—but Baba always found out and made her cross out her contribution to the reply. Mehera let Sheela file Baba’s fingernails and comb his hair. She was fortunate to spend hours alone with Baba at Guruprasad, sometimes massaging him. And she received various orders from Baba, including one in which she had to shout insults at the mandali. Baba gives her tips for how to spend Silence Day, deals with assorted encounters with ghosts, and assigns her a special short daily prayer meant for her alone.

We are treated to glimpses of many of those who were closest to Baba—in addition to Mehera, Mani, and other women mandali, she writes of Eruch, Dr. Donkin, Padri, Pendu, Vishnu, Chhagan Master, Feram Workingboxwala, Dr. Deshmukh, Nana Kher, Mohammed the Mast, and especially Bhauji himself. The weaknesses of some of the mandali do not escape young Sheela’s observant and discriminating nature. Padri never laughed, and Mansari gave terrible fashion advice. We see the mandali fighting over sweets—and even worse behavior. But Sheela’s insights into the love between Baba and his closest disciple, Mehera, are surely worth the price of admission. The book concludes with a powerful account of Meher Baba’s death and entombment.

I can only hint at the amazing range of details revealed by Sheela. I bet you didn’t know that Baba read palms and facial features, for example; he even interpreted the meaning of a mole on Sheela’s foot! Some of the details are deeply significant, while others are entertaining or amusing: for example, when at Guruprasad, Aloba slept with Pegu the Siamese cat, who he believed would protect him from ghosts. One of my favorites among the touching anecdotes: When Baba was driven to the Arangaon tuberculosis sanatorium to see the patients, he also visited a room where white rabbits were used for tuberculosis testing, and “Baba fed a few pieces of grass to each of the bunnies through their cages.”

Growing Up with God would make an excellent candidate for reading aloud and discussion in a group. There are plenty of surprises in store. And I am sure Sheela will find herself more in demand as a speaker at Baba events after this publication.

See excerpt from Growing Up with God in the post below.

Why did God create ugly things?

As children, both Shireen Irani Bonner (Meher Baba’s niece) and Sheela Kalchuri Fenster (Bhau’s daughter) were bright little girls who happened to ask Baba (on different occasions) the same question: Why did God create ugly things like snakes and scorpions? And each girl got a slightly different answer, as shown in these excerpts.

“Both Good and Bad Are Mine”
From The Beloved, edited by Naosherwan Anzar, pp. 95-96

In December [1964] Baba's youngest brother, Adi S. Irani, who lives in England, visited him with his family. It is on record that on this occasion it was astonishing to witness the tremendous awareness of seven-year-old Shireen, Baba's niece.…Shireen asked several intelligent questions which intrigued all those around her.

…"You are beautiful and so merciful, then why did you create snakes and scorpions?"

"You, Shireen are so pretty and sweet, yet when you sit on the potty you bring out what is dirty and stinking. Why do you do it? Because it is necessary — and moreover it keeps you well and pretty. And so are all things in God's creation necessary. Both good and bad are mine."

“To Me, Everyone Is the Same; to You, They Look Ugly.”
From Growing Up with God by Sheela Kalchuri Fenster with David Fenster,
pp. 96-97

About insects and scorpions, I once asked Baba, “Why did you have to make all these troublesome creatures? Why not everything beautiful? Why did you create so many ugly things?”

Baba said, “I didn’t make them, they created themselves. Their impressions from past lives make them look ugly. For example, people tell lies and collect bad sanskaras. When they create bad sanskaras, they look ugly and suffer in their next birth. They make themselves that way through their sanskaras.”

“But some ugly people have good hearts.”

“When their body is ugly, they realize their past mistakes, and they become better. They try to be good and, in that way, earn good sanskaras. To me, everyone is the same; to you, they look ugly.”

“Some good-looking people are bad.”

“Even though they may look beautiful, if their sanskaras are bad, you will feel like avoiding them. There will be something about them that you don’t like. Something in their eyes or in the way they look — like a snake. You won’t feel like being near them, even though they may be physically attractive; whereas you won’t mind being near an ugly person, if that person is good.”

“Why don’t you take away anger and other weaknesses, so only good sanskaras are there?”

“Good and bad have to balance. When they balance, you get mukti [liberation].”

“Why don’t you wipe away all bad sanskaras from everyone?”

“That will be Ram rajya [the time of Ram’s rule; a golden age].”

“In Ram’s time also there were bad people, like Ravana.”

“But I burned him. Ravana was not some ten-headed entity. Depicting him in that way is representative of bad sanskaras. After he was killed, people spoke the truth, never deceived others. Now, it is the Kali Yug. That’s why you see bad outweighing good everywhere.”

“You should bring about that Ram-raj quickly,” I said.

“One day it will happen.”

“Will I still be alive?”

“Maybe not.”

Sheela's book has just been published and is available at the Sheriar and Love Street bookstores. See Christina Arasmo's review here.

“Ten Incredible Days”: Thoughts on the 1969 Darshan

The weekend of April 24-26, 2009, at Meher Center we celebrated the 40th anniversary of the 1969 Darshan, which was held at Guru Prasad (“Gift of the Guru”), the name of a maharani’s palace in in Pune, India, between April and June of that year. It is often called the Great Darshan: a great and unique event because it took place after Meher Baba dropped his body on January 31, 1969. The Darshan had been fully planned by Baba and was announced in October 1968 via the Family Letters written by Baba’s sister and disciple Mani. This Darshan was to be for his lovers and not the general public. Baba hinted that it would be unprecedented, and that despite his failing health he would definitely give his love to his lovers.

In 1968 I first “heard” the name of Meher Baba while in Jerusalem when a friend, Irene Schatzberg (later Meyer), wrote to me from back home in New York. In the few months since I’d been gone, she had become a Baba-lover (his term for his followers). When I returned to New York, I attended a Monday night meeting, bought the Discourses, and became an instant Baba-lover too. At that time, Baba was in seclusion, doing his universal work, so we were not supposed to even write to him, let alone think of seeing him. Then, in October of 1968, Baba announced the Darshan, and I was ready to sign up. I traveled in June 1969 with the New York flight arranged by the Society for Avatar Meher Baba, and with my friend Alice Klein was housed at the Poona Club with Filis Frederick and her group from Los Angeles. I had just turned twenty-three, and just separated from my husband of three years shortly before the Darshan.

During the Darshan I knew I was incredibly blessed to be there, and I also sensed that my consciousness was not fully present because a large part of my psyche was tied up in internal emotional issues, which through Baba I had learned to associate with the bindings of sanskaras—consciousness burdened by mental impressions. I was helpless to do anything about the feeling of being bound and just tried to be as aware and present as I could during the “ten incredible days” planned by Baba (four of which were actually spent in the mandali hall at Guru Prasad, just as we would have done had Baba been physically present).

I remember arriving at the Bombay Airport to the amazing sight of the local Indian Baba-lovers who had risen so early in the morning to greet the Westerners. I recall having a monstrous headache after the train ride from Bombay to Poona, and Dr. Aloo came over and told me that Baba said Saint Francis used to have headaches that made him beat his head against the wall; she clearly believed she was offering me a useful remedy! Later, Dr. William Donkin, who seemed sad and distracted in Baba’s physical absence, gave me a headache tablet. When we went to Meherabad, I vividly remember the moments inside the Tomb—we filed in and stood all around the crypt, even at the head of it (something one cannot do today unless on the cleaning team). I also recall the day the women met with the women mandali at Guruprasad, and how I was too shy to step forward and greet Mehera and Mani (I didn’t meet them till I returned in 1975 for a five-week stay). Other images that stand out in memory are a beaming Dr. Deshmukh in the crowd of people in front of Guruprasad, Sarosh introducing us to Mohammed Mast, taking a photo of Mani as she jokingly filmed someone who was filming her, and Adi K. Irani coming to talk at the Poona Club. Fortunately Filis Frederick wrote a detailed account of our trip in the Awakener, which helps me remember the blur of days.

Many years after the Darshan, I learned something startling that struck me as very significant. Someone told me that in the fall of 1968, when the Darshan was being planned, the list of Baba-lovers from the West who had signed up to attend the Darshan was read aloud to Baba. I later confirmed this with Eruch.

When I first came to Baba, the significance of hearing his name was impressed upon me. It was a surprise to realize that not only had I heard Baba’s name in 1968, but he had heard mine … he heard all the names. This struck me as extraordinary.

Recently at the Center a video of Arnavaz from the early 1970s was shown, and in it she recounted a movie she had seen with Baba, Hitchock’s 1956 film The Wrong Man, which was based on the true story true story of an innocent man unjustly convicted of armed robbery. The man to whom this happened was still alive at that time. When the ladies talked to Baba about this man, Baba remarked that whenever someone unjustly suffers for something they did not do, they receive a great spiritual push. And he added that this man especially received a push, because since the Avatar’s attention was drawn to the man by this conversation, he had focused on the man and this automatically gave him a spiritual push. This story caused me to remember that fact of Baba hearing our names read aloud. For a fraction of a second his attention was on me. Of course, I always assumed that the very reason I even heard about Baba and gone to the Darshan was that he had somehow seen fit to include me. But here was a piece of solid evidence that he knew of my existence. Although I didn’t know I needed this piece of evidence, it has really meant a great deal to me.

Baba taught us in so many ways—through example, explanation, inner experience, the words of his favorite Persian poets—what the role of a lover of God is, what it means to love God or the spiritual Master who is the living embodiment of God-consciousness, and what are the experiences of a lover of God—the longing, the burning within, the impatience with all talk that is not of God, the fact that ‘the more you love Him, the more you feel you are loving Him less.” One of the powerful emotions of the lover is expressed in the line “Please don’t be indifferent to me!” To have the Master shoot you a glance or show he is thinking of you is the greatest joy. To have him look away when you finally reach his feet after standing on the long darshan line is sheer torture. These are a few of the many examples that have been part of the education of our hearts through the stories of other lovers who met Baba. So to know that Meher Baba heard my name when he was in his physical form is an important acknowledgment.

I wish I could say that I had some powerful mystical experience of Meher Baba’s presence at the 1969 Darshan. I have had that experience, but I didn’t have it particularly on this occasion. I’m just really glad I accepted the invitation and showed up. It’s possibly the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done.

Elvis Sighted on Meher Center!

It’s true! The Dilruba office at the Center received this e-mail message from a visitor to Myrtle Beach:

I am Robert; my wife is Dianne. We were staying at Land’s End condos next door to Meher Retreat. We got to the condo on 4/13/09. On 4/14/09 our bird, Elvis, a two and one half year old Cockatiel who goes with us everywhere, accidentally got out of his cage and flew away into the direction of the Retreat. I jumped the fence at the condos and went after him into the woods. I would call to him and he would call back, but he was high in the trees and very frightened. I couldn't get him (4 pm); we kept calling to him from the balcony of the condo and he would call back but he finally stopped calling back around dusk. We left his cage out there overnight, to no avail.

The next morning my wife went walking (7 am) and found the trail from the beach into the retreat. She walked deep into the retreat but didn't hear a peep out of Elvis; however, she did wake up a doe, who walked away, then she said that she briefly saw a large cat about the size of a small German shepherd; the cat appeared to be blond in color and was also walking away. When she got back to the condo she told me about her walk and wanted me to go back with her, which I did around noon.

We walked for about an hour and met a lady and then a couple. All three people were very friendly, so I gave them my business card and asked them to keep their eyes out for our baby. He had been out in 55 degree weather overnight with misting rain. These are conditions that he is just not supposed to survive, so I kinda gave up. Dianne, however, said that she was sure that he was alive. She was sitting out on the balcony crying her eyes out and I was just staying back out of the way, reading.

All of a sudden she came running through the condo screaming that she had seen Elvis fly by with another bird. She immediately ran out the back door in order to see where they went. She grabbed a plastic shopping bag and a stalk of millet and took off. By this time I was grieving. We got Elvis when he was 5 weeks old (just a chick). I sat back down and waited, and in about 10 minutes she knocked on the door and I ran to it and when I opened it she said, “I've got Elvis!” Elvis was weak and very happy to be back with us. I've never seen him eat so much.

We are both very much animal lovers. It kinda lets me know how tough wild animals really have it, especially with big industry taking up the wooded areas which is their home. Dianne and I both feel that Elvis was blessed from the very second that he flew into the Spiritual Grounds that Meher Baba left for his followers. When we come back to Myrtle Beach we are going to come by for a visit (through the front gate—sorry for trespassing). Thanks again. Please let everyone read this.

Love Robert, Dianne, and Elvis Harris

Book Review: The Circle of Life and Death, by Lawrence Karrasch with Rita Karrasch

Rita and Larry Karrasch

The Circle of Life and Death: A Spiritual Guide for Living and Dying Well, by Lawrence Karrasch with Rita Karrasch (iUniverse, 2008), 180 pp. Available at Sheriar Books or iUniverse.

Reviewed by Kendra Crossen

If you set out for the first time to read about death and dying from a spiritual perspective, you would find a bewildering number of books to choose from. Larry Karrasch, in collaboration with his wife, Rita Karrasch, has done a valuable service by culling the core ideas from numerous traditions (thanks to the fact that they inherited a large library of such literature). The discussions cover universal law, the soul and spirit bodies (astral, subtle, mental), the development of consciousness, the after-death experience (a world created by one’s own thoughts), reincarnation, sanskaras, six types of death (normal, accidental, murder, suicide, capital punishment, and circumstantial deaths involving large numbers of people, as in wars and calamities), preparing for death, and specific topics such as the notion of waiting three to four days before disposing of a loved one’s remains, as suggested by Meher Baba, since the consciousness of the person may remain closely associated with the body for that period. Each chapter closes with a list that summarizes the essential ideas for the reader’s contemplation. The book is thus designed to provide a patient introduction for a general audience.

The reader won’t be hit over the head with “Meher Baba” in this book, yet the perspective of Baba—whom Larry met personally as a child on several occasions—informs the whole presentation, and there is also the influence of Larry’s mentor Dr. Harry Kenmore, one of Baba’s Western mandali. Source footnotes are provided, but Larry has not attempted to explain whether Baba specifically confirmed this or that teaching—I assume this is to ensure the book’s accessibility to non-Baba-lovers. As a gift, it would make a gentle introduction to Baba as well as to the purpose of death and how one can best learn the lessons that life and death have to offer.

If I had to choose one thing that is outstanding about this work, it is the way Larry establishes the entire subject within Meher Baba’s scheme of “the advancing stream of life”: the fact that, in Baba’s words, “life is a series of experiences which need innumerable forms. Death is an interval in that one long life.” The whole of life is moving toward a great purpose—liberation from the circle of life and death—and once this is recognized, existence takes on meaning and direction. This understanding gives the book its coherence, which I believe makes it easier for readers to digest all the unusual pieces of information being offered. As a writer Larry has a patient, systematic way of guiding the reader toward his conclusions about how best to follow the advancing stream. In addition, he provides fascinating nuggets from metaphysical, mediumistic, and mystical literature. Example: Upasni Maharaj stated that hanging—the taking of the breath—is the best method of execution. (The book also explainsd how capital punishment, often rejected on humane grounds, could serve a spiritual purpose.)

The interpretations of various teachers and authors, including Meher Baba, Edgar Cayce, Manly P. Hall, Annie Besant, C. W. Leadbeater, Rudolf Steiner, Hazrat Inayat Khan, Ivy O. Duce, and the Dalai Lama, are integrated into a unified narrative with a positive and uplifting tone. Larry writes: “Facing life’s challenges and overcoming obstacles are a part of why we return to the earth time and time again. But as we slow down and become more silent within, our intuition will help us to make the right decisions in life and avoid suffering.” Thank you, Larry and Rita, for this thoughtful compilation with occasional touches from your personal experience.

Excerpt from The Circle of Life and Death

When death finally comes, as it does for everyone, it should be faced with an inner conviction that “I have done this many times before.” But how does one awaken to this conviction? Most of us do not have a clear memory of ever having passed through death’s portal. Belief that there is something beyond the physical world is the first step in awakening this inner conviction. A trust in the individuals who experience and reveal the true nature of death can come when you open your mind and heart to the unseen world. Reading the written works of seers and advanced souls with an open mind is a second step. Mystical teachings from the major religions and esoteric philosophies contain stories written in allegories and literal accounts of the after-life. As we have experienced all this before, it should ring true in the very depths of our being. Discussions with other seekers in the search for truth will also shake off the cobwebs of our instilled childhood conceptions and fears about death.

Once awakened to the purpose of death, learning about the process of death and preparing for it should take on a new meaning for you. Since death could come to you and your loved ones at any time, you need to realize that you have no time to lose in this preparation. Every thought, word, feeling, and action in life will define your experience in the after-life. How you lived on earth creates the record for how you will exist in the after-life, which we call death.

Poems of Chaganti Subba Rao

A small book, Meher Githa by Chaganti Subba Rao (1915-1991), in Telegu and English, was brought back from India. It was said that the author was an orthodox Hindu who was initially uninterested in meeting Meher Baba on His first visit to Hyderabad, but on the second visit he did come into Baba’s embrace. Here is a brief excerpt from his “Githa” or song of Meher.

1. Myself Am Baba Himself

I am the bee and He the flower,

I am the flower and He the bower,

I am the servant and He the master,

I am the sheep and He the pastor.

I am the brook and He the ocean,

I am the stone and He the mountain,

I am the son and He the father,

I am the child and He the mother.

I am the cart and He the driver,

I am the instrument and He the doer.

There is between us not a gulf,

I myself am Baba Himself.

2. Tell Me, O! The Highest of the High

Your celestial embrace I care not,

Trample me beneath Your feet; care a jot.

I cannot for long stand in queue

For Your love; but I shall become You…

Time, space and distance cannot me bind,

though I to You am a new find;

I am chakora bird and You the moon,

I await Your ray of grace for a boon.

Let eyes shed hearing Your name,

Let hairs stand on end counting Your fame,

Let tears choke the throat seeing Your form,

Let body be lost realizing Your charm.

You steal my heart though not the thief,

You control my mind though not the chief,

I know not fully I love you why,

Tell me, O Highest of the High!

…

8. A Wayfarer

Penance I do not know,

To yoga I do not go,

My heart I do not show.

I am still a wayfarer.

Yourself I do not know,

Myself too ditto.

Why should I make a show?

I am only a wayfarer.

Love is hard to give,

But You want it anyhow,

Still I cannot give it now,

As I am a wayfarer.

Every milestone is the goal

So You always me cajole.

How many miles do I have to crawl

As a weary wayfarer?

You say, “You speak nonsense!”

But let me tell You once

To give me another chance,

Since I am a wayfarer.