1971

35. Anecdotes about the European lecture tour¹¹

We have really entered into the wide world. History will bear witness to the truth of whether we have succeeded or not. Success and failure we always offer to the Supreme; we place them at the feet of the Supreme. If you are really following a spiritual discipline, you offer everything, success and failure, to Him with equal delight. This journey of ours to England, this adventure, however, has been one of tremendous success.

An English couple made the arrangements for our trip. They had become our disciples seven or eight months ago. They became New York disciples. This couple met with all the expenses. Mahalakshmi and Mahavishnu are their names. Mahalakshmi and Mahvishnu did everything for us. Mahalakshmi worked so hard. Even twenty disciples, twenty dedicated disciples put together, would not have been able to accomplish what she did. So selflessly, devotedly and with a real surrendered attitude, she did everything. Her husband did the same. Unfortunately he had to play in his band. Quite a few times he had to miss our functions. He is a well-known guitarist. In American newspapers so many articles have come out about him. John McLaughlin is his name. Today he was interviewed by The New York Times. He is either the number one or number two guitarist in the world. He is really a superb player.

Now I shall tell you the stories, the experiences, that we had during our one-month trip to Europe. Mahalakshmi and Mahavishnu arranged everything financially and in every way they met with all our needs and expectations.

Now, unfortunately, I will not be able to tell you in any systematic way about the lectures I gave, but as far as my memory allows, I will try to be faithful to the basic order of our main activities.

The first talk I gave was in the University of Kent in Canterbury. There an amusing thing happened. The Cathedral of Canterbury is of world renown. Here in this most beautiful, solemn Cathedral, an amusing incident took place. Mahalakshmi and Alo were sitting on a bench, and they started to meditate. Mahavishnu and I were moving around in the Cathedral, looking at everything. I was wearing a tall, Russian fur hat which Alo had bought me in New York. It had velvet ear-flaps. I was very fond of that hat. Then all of a sudden, Alo came to me and said, “Devaji, I am really worried. We are in a Christian church and, in the West, gentlemen always remove their hats to show respect. They never keep their hats on inside a building, especially a church. Even in our Canadian schools, the little boys had to take off their caps whenever they entered the school building. People are looking at you and Mahavishnu, and I am afraid that they will think that you, as an Indian, are showing disrespect or indifference to the sacred atmosphere of Christ’s presence here. Could you take your hat off? Remember the trouble that we had recently in Puerto Rico, when you entered a famous church wearing shorts?”

I said to Alo, “Christ is the Universal Brother. Christ is also the Lord; it is absolutely true. He loves me and I love Him, and that is more than enough. I am sure He will not mind if I do not take my hat off.”

So I insisted on leaving my hat on in that most powerful, most solemn, most inspiring Cathedral.

Then we went to the talk I was supposed to give. Even three minutes before the actual hour, nobody had arrived; nobody turned up. But one minute before eight o’clock, fifty or sixty people came in, all at once.

After the talk they asked me quite a few sincere questions. One question was, “Is death the end?” There were many other sincere questions. At the end of the meeting, a young man came to me with a short note and a greeting card with two beautiful birds on it. He said to me, “This bird signifies earth, and that bird signifies Heaven. I was so deeply moved by your talk that I wish to say that you have the same God-Realisation that I have. Your Realisation and my Realisation are of the same type. We both know that there is no such thing as death. So I am presenting you with Heaven and earth in the form of these two birds, one earth, the other, Heaven.”

So his Realisation and mine were of the same calibre. I was so happy that I had at least equalled his Realisation.

The following day I gave a talk at Nottingham University. There, in that University, we met Mahalakshmi’s parents. They were very wise, very cultured and very highly developed souls. I told Mahalakshmi later on that her father, who is now a judge, is destined to be the Prime Minister of England in his next incarnation. Her father will not believe it because he is now only a magistrate. For a magistrate to think of being Prime Minister is impossible. I told her that in his next incarnation, God wants him to be a Prime Minister.

Now, back to Nottingham University. As soon as we entered the hall, we saw that more than three hundred people were present. All the chairs were occupied, and fourteen people were sitting on the floor. I took my place on the platform and, standing there, I gave a very serious talk. This will eventually be printed. During the question-and-answer period, the first question I got was from an Indian. Often when an Indian asks a question, it is not a question; it is a lecture in itself and the start of a controversy. Some of my Indian brothers do not want to know anything because they know everything already. Here I wish to go off the track and tell you that when I gave a talk at Cornell University about a year ago, an Indian stood up. Many professors and students had been so devotedly asking questions. This Indian stood up and said, “Why do you talk about God? Who is not God? You are God. I am God. Everybody is God. So why do you talk about God here?”

So I answered him, “This University has invited me to give a talk, and I am speaking on God, on Truth and on Light. If you have realised God, then who has asked you to come here to listen to me? You stay with your God-Realisation. These people in the audience perhaps have not yet realised God; that is why they are listening to me. So you can leave this place and give us a little peace.” He kept quiet.

After the meeting was over, he came up to me and fell flat at my feet, prostrating in the Indian fashion, with his head on the floor at my feet. He said, “Everybody was admiring you, adoring you, but nobody was paying any attention to me. So I thought that if I asked an embarrassing question, everybody would pay attention to me. That is why I asked you my question. Please forgive me. Forgive me!”

So here in Nottingham University also, I was getting that kind of question. The first question was no question at all. The Indian man just wanted to show off his wisdom, but I didn’t say anything about it and just answered his question very soulfully.

There were many questions. Many sincere questions they asked; very nice questions. But towards the end, this Indian started arguing. He said, “How is it you are talking about meditation? We are married people, and you know that married people cannot meditate. It is so difficult, and your philosophy is so difficult.” He started again arguing with me. But with utmost kindness and affection I answered his objections — for about ten minutes.

The final question of the evening was again not really a question. Another Indian stood up and said, “What have you to offer? Why have you come here? You Indians, all you Yogis come here to the West only to exploit us.” At this very time, so many people had been showing me sincere admiration. So one or two students of philosophy who had introduced me to the audience stood up and asked the audience to offer their appreciation of me. To my surprise this meant that they immediately started clapping for my talk. They applauded very enthusiastically and sincerely. Oh yes, the philosophy student had said, “I am sure you have all enjoyed the talk. So now let us offer our appreciation to the speaker.” In the thundering applause, the poor Indian was drowned.

When everything was over, we went downstairs for refreshments. The Indian man who said that married people cannot meditate, that my philosophy was so difficult and all that, came down with two of his children. One was five and the other was two years old. With folded hands, he said, “Swamiji, forgive me, forgive me. I saw tremendous power inside you while you were talking. I thought that if I asked you some spiritual question, you would be able to answer it easily. I thought if I asked something that was not spiritual, something ordinary, it would be difficult for you to answer. That is why I asked you that kind of question. My question wasn’t spiritual, but you answered it so well.

“Now, this is my humble prayer: my son here, who is five years old, has for the last six months been having attacks of nightmares every night. We have been to so many doctors and other people. Every night he is attacked by nightmares and he suffers. He cries out and he calls us, my wife and me. We are very worried about him. He is very much afraid of the night. He can’t sleep properly and, even during the day, he is apprehensive because he remembers the night. We have been to so many places, to so many doctors. We have even been to two or three spiritual Masters. Nobody has been able to cure him. But the power that I saw in you while you were giving the talk is immeasurable. I want you to forgive me and cure my son.” His wife, who had come in with him, also folded her hands and repeated, “I want you to forgive us and cure our son.”

So I blessed the child, and I asked the mother to do a certain number of things; also to meditate in a special way. And I told them that in fifteen days his nightmares would be cured, because I had cured this kind of nightmare before. I had always been successful. I actually felt that it would not take a full fifteen days, but I wanted to be on the safe side.

Such is life. At the time of need, I was “Swamiji”, and I was called on to cure his son. This is human life.

From England, we went to Paris, France. There I gave two talks, one at the School of Fine Arts, and the other at the American Academy.

Now I have to tell you a few things about our experience upon reaching the airport in Paris. I was supposed to give my first talk at six o’clock in the evening, and we reached the airport, Alo and I, at four o’clock. We were totally on our own because Mahavishnu and Mahalakshmi had to remain in England to prepare for other engagements of ours, and were due in Paris two or three days later. Now here at the airport, an unfortunate thing happened.

I had been told by the Indian Consulate in New York that I did not need a visa for France since I was “half-American”, the holder of a Green Card, designating me as a permanent resident of the United States. When we boarded the plane in New York, nobody asked me for a visa. But when we arrived at the airport in Paris, they would not let me in. They said that since I had no visa, I would have to go back to England. At six o’clock was my talk, and at four o’clock they were telling me that I had to return to England, get a French visa and then only could I come back to Paris. Now what could I do?

Now it always happens that when there is a West Indian from Jamaica, he shows special concern for me. Wherever I go, I see that if there is a Jamaican, that Jamaican tries to help me. Now this particular Jamaican overheard our conversation and, saying that he would try to help me, took me to a particular place and said to the Customs Officer, “Can’t you keep your eyes closed?” It turned out that the Jamaican himself was also a Customs Officer.

He said that if I had to go back to England, I needed an English visa, but if I went from France to some other place, they wouldn’t mind because my destination was not France. But no other destination was in my ticket. If my ticket had mentioned Italy, they could have said, “Let them have the trouble and problem in Italy.” The Customs Officer said, “Here we cannot do that. Italy is not mentioned in the ticket.” The Jamaican replied, “You just keep your eyes closed and write down that he is going to Italy.” The Customs Officer said, “No. I have to keep my eyes open.” But to help me, he went to the Station Police Officer who is the final head and can allow a person to pass through at his own discretion. The Police Officer said, “No, no, I cannot do it.”

Two other Officers spoke to the Police Officer on my behalf, saying, “You have allowed others through in similar cases. How is it that in this case you don’t want to?” The Police Officer replied, “I have allowed people, yes, but they have touched my feet and cried.” I said to myself, “I cannot touch your feet and cry.”

Now, at this time, Alo, who had easily passed through Customs, felt that I was in trouble and, with great difficulty, got permission to come back out of the Customs area to where I was standing with these people. She was shocked and outraged at the whole situation. She also could not, from within her soul, cry and touch his feet. Touching someone’s feet in India is something very holy and sacred. The soul really does not allow you to do it for this type of thing. She spoke in French to the Officials, saying that the whole problem lay in the failure of the New York authorities to give me the correct advice. She told them that in view of this, we being innocent foreigners, and I being a saintly “man of God”, could they please overlook the mistake and let us through. Alo, as a Canadian, would vouch for my financial well-being and my definite departure from France. I added, “It is only a matter of two days.”

They were very sympathetic to Alo’s soulful plea. But they said, “We are helpless. We ourselves can do nothing. We are really only clerks. We have no authority to make this kind of decision. What can we do?” Then one of the clerks said, “Let us phone the Indian Consulate.” His friend disagreed, saying, “No, as he has a Green Card, let us call the American Consulate and see if they can help.” So they phoned up and an American official said, “Since he is not a full American citizen, we cannot help him out.”

Then they reverted to the first plan and phoned the Indian Consulate. There a South Indian official said that it was a very sad situation and that he would try to help me. This official went to his superior officer, who said, “If the Americans cannot help, we can try the French Government.”

The French government official, when contacted, said, “Non, non, non! C’est impossible!” The South Indian explained, “He has come to Paris only to give two talks on Indian philosophy, and then he will leave France. He has an American Green Card.” The French official replied that he did not believe what Indians say. He said, “Indians do not return to their country; they remain in France. They do not go back, and they become a real problem for us.” He added, “He is already in America and that is no problem for us, but the French Government cannot allow him to remain in France.”

Now the South Indian spoke to his own Consul, who said, “The only thing we can do is to refer this whole matter to the Indian Embassy in Washington, DC.” If they make a request to the French Government, the French will listen to them because if the French authorities, in their turn, make any request of the Indian Embassy, the Indians would simply say, “No.” For example, when French lecturers go to India without visas, they run into this same problem. Each country does the other a favour.

So the Indian Consul in Paris made a long-distance call to the Indian Embassy in Washington, DC. Fortunately the phone there was answered by a very high-ranking Indian official working directly under the Indian Ambassador to the United States. As soon as he heard the name, Chinmoy Kumar Ghose, he said, “One Ghose is in trouble; another Ghose has to save him.” Can you believe it? This man’s name was also Ghose! He said immediately, “Don’t worry. Tell Mr Ghose that I am taking care of him.” He phoned the Customs people at the Paris Airport and said, “I want to talk to the Police Officer who is creating this problem for Mr Ghose.”

The Police Officer came to the phone and the Indian official said, “I am calling from Washington, DC. I am the Ambassador’s aide. Let Mr Ghose in immediately; otherwise I shall make a complaint to the French authorities. At six o’clock he has to give a talk, and it is nearing five o’clock now.”

The French Police Officer came running to me, “Mr Ghose, you are going to give a talk, and your tie is not on properly.” How could this be? He started to fix my tie. Half an hour before, he was making me feel that I should touch his feet and cry; now he started fixing my tie! So you can imagine what I was going through.

Well, we got to the talk at six-thirty. It was all God’s Grace. I must say that there were a few people there who were sincerely interested in the spiritual life… others, no. Four or five were smoking, asking questions while smoking. They felt that this was normal behaviour. Many speakers in France encourage an informal atmosphere in their audience, and the people in the audience, on their part, indicate their seriousness by smoking with deep, contemplative puffs of smoke. They were asking questions on Kundalini Yoga, how to raise their Kundalini. I answered, “Yes, your Kundalini has already risen… perhaps from your lower vital.”

The following day we went to give my talk at the American Academy. We were alone, Alo and I. There were no French disciples at that time. The Academy was located in a very obscure Quarter of Paris, on a street called “Rue Bergères”. We had to take a taxi, but the driver did not really know that street at all. Alo had said, “Rue Bergères, Monsieur, s’il vous plait.” Then she said, “Académie Américaine.” That was all the information we had. He couldn’t find it. It was getting late, and just as the day before, we started to get worried about the audience who would be waiting for their speaker. I said to Alo, “This adventure is just going to turn out to be another useless wild-goose chase. What a mistake we’ve made by even planning this.” We were driving round and round, getting nowhere!

The driver felt that it was his fault for not being familiar with that Quarter. He was desperately trying to find Rue Bergères. Finally he turned around and said to Alo, “Follies Bergères, Mademoiselle?” (referring to the famous dancing troupe). Alo answered, smiling, “Non, Monsieur, Rue Bergères; follies spirituelles!” He replied, “Ah, oui.” We all laughed.

Well, he finally found it. We paid him, gave him a big tip and went in. I was deeply impressed to see in the hall a picture of President Abraham Lincoln because there, right beside Lincoln, to my amazement was a poster with my aphorism, “When the power of love replaces the love of power, man will have a new name: God.” In most of the universities in which I have given a talk, I have seen this poster. But this one was three times as big as the others; it was right beside Abraham Lincoln and, to our astonishment, it said, “Our Guru, our Guru.” Some students had already accepted me before even seeing me. We were very touched and realised that it had not been a mistake to come here.

In that Academy, there were two or three students who evidently had Draft problems. When Alo was taking their photos, they covered their faces. They had come to hear a spiritual talk, and they were hiding. They were in Paris to avoid the Draft. It was a real experience for us, quite shocking.

We realised something in France that we had seen also in Pondicherry, a former French colony. Educated French people do not like to use the English language, even when they speak it well. Most of them don’t want to learn English in the first place, but even if they know it, they refuse to use it, almost on principle. A hundred years ago, French was the international language for cultured people, more so than English. If you were truly educated, you spoke French. So now the French people, remembering this in their cultural memory, refuse to give way to another international language.

Now, my reason for mentioning this is that very few people in Paris understood us. So for this talk at the American Academy, even though we knew there would be many Americans present, we had hired an interpreter. He worked at the American Embassy in Paris. He was a Frenchman with an excellent knowledge of English. He was about forty-two years old.

Alo said of him later, “It was the most impressive translation I have ever heard in my life, and we have Agni José Luis Casanova, in Puerto Rico, who translates flawlessly, correctly and rapidly from Guru’s English into beautiful, accurate Spanish. I don’t know Spanish, but others have told us this countless times and we see and feel it intuitively. But I did study French for eight years — five years in High School and three years in University — and this interpreter I found to be absolutely awe-inspiring. My hair was standing on end.

“Devaji had told the interpreter that he would stop every few sentences to allow him to translate that portion into French. But as usual, Gurudev got carried away with his inner spiritual momentum. When he recalled that he was supposed to have stopped, sometimes ten or fifteen minutes had elapsed, full of complicated points, allusions, metaphors, etc. So many words, sentences, etc. But this man was truly incredible. He had listened carefully, and he reproduced every single point of Guru’s into absolutely flawless and beautiful French. He could have left out material, but he never did. He translated every single sentence of Guru’s. The thing that impressed me most was his capacity to understand and translate spiritual phrases and concepts which Guru uses in his own unique way. I was sure that this would cause difficulty for the interpreter. His normal work, after all, was translating for the American Embassy: things pertaining to law and to everyday life… perhaps many specialised phrases connected with immigration and so on. But here he was, translating the most subtle, spiritual ideas with a finesse and inner comprehension that really flabbergasted me. (Agni was a disciple, after all, and he understood Guru’s philosophy. Guru had also, on innumerable occasions, defined his spiritual terms for us all.) But this French interpreter had only spoken to us for three minutes before the talk, and yet his translation was spiritually flawless, as though he had been a close disciple for years.

“This French interpreter was not only extremely intelligent, with a phenomenal memory, but his inner being was very luminous and full of depth. I felt that no one but myself (and Devaji, of course) realised what an outstanding job he had done.

“When the talk was over, I spoke to him in English, as I was ashamed of my very poor conversational French. He was very gracious, but didn’t feel that his skill was anything out of the ordinary. He also didn’t realise that he was spiritually very promising, a very mature soul. He took it as all-in-a-day’s-work, even though that one hour’s translation must have been very tiring.

“Well, we paid him more than the Embassy’s normal hourly rate for an interpreter, which was already very high, and, of course, we were more than satisfied. Yet I kept feeling that here was the waste of a promising soul. Aspiration had not yet awakened in him. He spoke of spiritual states with the familiarity of a high, advanced soul, and yet his inner consciousness in this life had not yet awakened.”

This ends Alo’s account of our talk at the American Academy in Paris.

The following day we went to the outskirts of Paris to see the Palais de Versailles of Louis XIV. Their achievements, their grandeur, their pomp, their opulence! Glory is not the word! Perhaps in our time only a multi-millionaire could have this kind of splendour. In each room the decorations themselves, apart from the furniture, must have cost thousands or millions of dollars. Sometimes three enormous rooms were joined to make a salon that was so gorgeous, one did not know where to look first. We saw magnificent portraits in every room of people like Napoleon and all the royalty and aristocracy of France. It was overwhelming!

The French Revolution… why did it take place? Here you can understand how some human beings can exploit the sincere but weak ones. This revolution, the French Revolution, took place to save poor mankind from tyrants. The aristocracy became supremely powerful at the expense of the sweat and blood of the poor, sincere people. Their downfall took place in due course.

Are you enjoying these anecdotes, my Puerto Rican children? Again I am saying that they are for the disciples, for the spiritual family. We have many visitors here. Perhaps some will scorn me or blame me. I have repeatedly said that those who are not my disciples are under no obligation to accept my views. Even the disciples are under no obligation to listen to this kind of talk. If they object to it or disagree with it, they can say so or, if they want to leave, I shall have no objection.

Now, to come back to England. At our next university, it was raining heavily as I was due to give my talk. We had to walk through bitter, biting cold to get there. We encountered so much difficulty as it was so dark and the cold rain prevented us from finding the way. It was so hard to find the hall where the talk was scheduled. Such hard work simply to get into the university that night!

There were about sixty hippies there. The lecture was about to start, but they would not stop talking. The man who introduced me told them that it was high time for them to show a little respect to the speaker. Then they kept quiet. Most of the boys were sitting with their partners, their girlfriends. Three or four asked me spiritual questions, but those questions had a mockery behind them. So I became very strict and showed my spiritual pride and dignity as I answered their questions. They were humbled by my spiritual power.

Then again, as I always have wonderful experiences with my Indian brothers, an Indian student asked the last question. He was asking me a serious question about Liberation and Realisation. While he was asking the question, his girlfriend was caressing him, much to his enjoyment. I really became so mad that I gave him a very drastic answer. When I become furious, at that time I use my spiritual power. Then the girl stopped.

Another fellow was asking me a question, and I could see that he was thinking only about his girlfriend. The question was only lip-deep. So again I became mad: “You people should have some courtesy. Some of you are, to my extreme sorrow, still in the animal world. It is impossible for me to throw light into the animal consciousness. Only into the aspiring human heart can I offer a little light. So I have to leave.” I walked out.

The man who introduced me was miserable and very sorry about the students’ behaviour. I said, “It is not your fault. It was my Indian brother who inspired and instigated them to adopt that attitude. So often it is an Indian brother.” That was our unfortunate experience at that particular university.

Our evening didn’t end there. We were supposed to meet Mahalakshmi and Mahavishnu on a particular platform of the railway station in London. Alas, they were not there. Our bad luck never ended. We were on one platform, and they were waiting for us on another! So we did not meet. We arrived back at the house in Kensington at one o’clock in the morning, and there they were, waiting for us. The house belonged to a European Countess who had kindly accommodated all four of us there. It was a bad night all around, a comedy of errors and hostile forces.

By the way, we used to go to an Indian restaurant every day. In America, it is very expensive to eat in Indian restaurants. In England, it is not expensive. So we have eaten in seventeen or eighteen Indian restaurants in England.

Early each morning we had to leave Kensington; at noon we had to take a plane, then a train, then a taxi. We were absolutely gypsies, moving all the time from here to there, with no rest. Only at night did we come back to London and only to sleep in the Countess’ beautiful house. We hardly saw the house, and we rarely saw her, a frail, elderly little lady.

Moving from here to there, to this city and that university, whenever we got hungry, we would take our food at some Indian restaurant in whatever town we found ourselves.

So you see, in one university I had practically the worst experience of my mission. In the question period, I was miserable. But at Oxford University I was so highly honoured. It is the first university where I have been garlanded. I have given talks in seventy or eighty universities in the West, but in Oxford the president of one of the Societies came up and garlanded me with utmost humility.

While garlanding me he said, “A candle is introducing the sun. The sun needs no introduction, but the candle gets the greatest joy, delight and pride when it gets the opportunity to introduce the sun. I am the candle and he is the sun. Sri Chinmoy does not need any introduction, but some of my colleagues have asked me to make this introduction, and I am very proud that I am in a position to introduce such a great figure.”

Then he added something: “We have heard and read so much about Indian philosophy. We’ve also read the writings of many spiritual Masters. Professors use famous quotes from the Upanishads and other Indian scriptures. Indian philosophy is complicated and, when spiritual Masters speak on it, they make it more complicated. They say they are trying to explain in a simple manner what Indian spirituality stands for but, while trying to make it easy, they are actually making it more complicated. But today I see our speaker here, I see Swamiji Chinmoy Ghose, and I know that he will not fail us. He will make Indian philosophy really simple. This is not just my expectation; I am sure he will do it.”

So now that the speaker had expressed his confidence in me, I tried my best to make my talk as simple as possible. Everything I made extremely simple. In fact, I did not use any “shlokas” (Sanskrit verses) or quote from the Upanishads or the Vedas. They were tremendously pleased. My simple talk was considered a great success.

In another university we had another stroke of bad luck. There is always one student who causes anguish to his lecturers and professors. He started to say that Indians are beggars and rogues; they also don’t have any manners. “In India,” he went on, “people are dying of hunger, and yet Indians come here and speak about spirituality. Go home,” he said, “and give your spirituality to your own starving people.”

Now, I wanted to answer this English boy’s statement but, when I stood up, he would not allow me. I said, “You have asked me a question, and now I want to answer you.” But he only started talking and arguing. He would not listen to me. It turned out that this student was not allowed to enter into classes because of his misbehaviour. It was a sad story. His sister was in love with an Indian fellow who was sitting beside her. Everybody was shouting at him, “Sit down, sit down!” The president of the club, the man who had introduced me, stood up, but he could not control the situation. The English boy just continued, referring to me, “He has not answered this question.” “I am more than ready to answer this question,” I said to the president, “but he is asking dozens of questions, and these are not questions; they are only insults.” I said to the English boy, “I am ready to answer your question, but it has to be a real question and not just berating words.” But he continued haranguing for another three or four minutes, and the president simply called an end to the meeting.

The English boy had the audacity to come up to me afterwards, and he said, “You know, you have deceived me.” I asked, “How? Why?” He said, “I thought that by insulting you, you would give me some of your power. But you are a clever fellow; you did not give me any power. Kindly tell me whether you are going to give another talk. If so, this time I will keep silent, and I will receive everything from you. But you have deceived me. You have deceived me. Forgive me.”

Meanwhile Alo, who still remembered her Hindi from India, kept saying to me in Hindi, in a quiet voice, “Devaji, the boy is insane. He is quite deranged emotionally. Please let us get away from him. Let’s get out of here. He may get worse.” She felt that we were banging our heads against a brick wall, that he might get violent.

But before we left, I said to the boy, “God is the only one who can forgive you. I came all the way from New York to this university, and look what you have done. You have created such a problem for the sincere seekers. You have ruined the question period. Whether you receive power or don’t receive power, do not create this kind of problem ever again.” Then we departed.

The president had been so sincere, so attentive and so devoted, and yet what an experience we had there! He could not deal with this trouble-maker.

At London University, I had to revise my opinion about my Indian brothers. An Indian, a professor of mathematics, was in the audience. He came from Bengal, a very respectful man. He was asking me questions full of love and respect.

Three questions he asked with the utmost respect. He came from a prominent family. He had read the Gita and all the Indian scriptures. (Other Indians, in spite of being very familiar with the Gita and with Indian spiritual ideas, would ask me all kinds of very silly questions.) His questions were so nice, so deep and sincere, so aspiring.

Now, when the meeting was over, I got a very nice surprise. A young man, accompanied by a few others, came up to me. He said they all would like to have a Centre in England. He said, “When you were giving your talk, suddenly I saw light all around you, and then wherever I turned my head, no matter which side I looked at, I saw only your face, on the walls, ceiling, everywhere. We would like to be your disciples. We want to have a Centre here.”

So we agreed. We were very happy. Nine or ten persons came to the meditation the first time. It was held in the apartment of the young man. Then the following week about fifteen or sixteen came. Before we left England, it became about twenty-two. They were very dedicated and very serious. I gave two talks to them before I left.

One young girl in the group was studying law. She comes from New Zealand and, when she completes her studies, she will return to New Zealand. Her name is Carol, and she will run the Centre. She will open up a Centre in New Zealand when she returns and has already invited us to go there. She is very close and very sincere.

With this England Centre, I am so pleased. So many letters I have received from them since returning home to New York. They call their Centre “Little Chinmoy”!

They have sent Christmas and New Year’s greeting cards which say “From Little Chinmoy.” First we have the Chinmoy Family magazine, and now we have the “Little Chinmoy Centre”. They have given it that name. They are doing extremely well there. Carol is very wise and very dedicated. She is having inner experiences almost every day in the inner world.

Then… to Oxford and Cambridge Universities… so well known. Mahalakshmi and Mahavishnu were there with us. In many universities, Alo and I were alone with the organizers.

At Oxford, I had a sad experience due to my own stupidity, although Alo blames herself. It was extremely cold, and it was raining. Inside the college where I was due to speak, they ushered me into an ante-room containing a large, comforting fireplace. I was standing with my back towards this old-fashioned fireplace, trying to get warm and dry. I was wearing my grey overcoat and my silk Indian dhoti and kurta. I had planned to take off my overcoat only at the time of the talk, and now I was trying to dry off and warm myself up. It was so cold in that room that I was practically standing against the fireplace. I stood there for about fifteen minutes while the steam escaped from my wet coat.

All of a sudden there was the smell of something burning. My coat had caught fire and my silk robes were also about to catch fire. I jumped. I said, “Alo, I have caught fire!” At that very instant, she had jumped, and said, “Deva! You’re on fire!” She immediately pulled the coat off. It was smelling terribly, smelling like anything. Five minutes later I had to give my talk. It was a talk on “The Higher Worlds”.

I was standing on the platform, and I was giving my talk, and I was smelling like anything. For ten or fifteen minutes there was an unbearable smell of burning, acrid cloth. It was a foul, unbearable odour. I was giving my talk, and there was this smell of burning cloth. What a situation! But fortunately, by God’s Grace, my Indian robes did not catch fire. (Alo said her inner being was constantly telling her to ask me to move away from the fireplace at least two or three feet, but she was tired and didn’t do it. She was very familiar with British fireplaces from her year at the University of London in 1955.)

Although I was smelling like anything, we had a wonderful question-and-answer period. The questions were very sincere. They asked about Hinduism and many other things. There were no problems: no smoking, no foul behaviour or anything like that. When the meeting was over in Oxford, several people made written comments quite voluntarily. Some young girls, university students, said, “We envy his peace. During the time he talked and while answering questions, he was inundated with peace. The whole room was inundated with peace and we sensed this.”

Other students said, “Other swamis who have talked about spiritual matters have been very difficult to understand. But here Sri Chinmoy has made it very easy for us. It seems to us that he has expressed everything as in a parable. Although we are all university students, and we thought he would give us mental nourishment, he has given us our hearts’ nourishment and our souls’ nourishment.”

So this was Oxford.

Now for Cambridge. At Cambridge University, six or seven professors came. They taught subjects like Indian archaeology, Southeast Asian art, Japanese language, Indonesian music, etc. They asked me many significant questions.

One student who was studying international law was so moved; he thought that spirituality was not meant for him because he would have to be dishonest, to some extent, when he entered into his career. He would be a lawyer, and he knew that lawyers, at times, resort to lies. After the talk, he said to me, “If I follow your spiritual path, I will be able to be a chosen instrument. I will not have to lie. The Supreme will speak through me. I will be able to escape the necessity of deception.” He was deeply moved.

In another University, I forget which one, I spoke about human love and divine love. I said, “Human love is an express train, destination: frustration. Divine love is a local train, destination: illumination.” One boy was so deeply moved. He said to me, “You are absolutely right about human love. Divine love is something I yearn to experience. I am going to meditate. That is where I will find divine love.”

A woman who is a biographer of Sri Aurobindo and other eminent figures asked me very serious questions. Some of them were about my past, and I answered them.

There were other professors and well-known writers who asked me very sincere questions. I was really successful there. Sri Aurobindo had studied at King’s College, Cambridge.

The woman from Trinity College who was the biographer of Sri Aurobindo, knew that I was from the Sri Aurobindo Ashram and knew that I had written many, many things about Sri Aurobindo while I was in India. After asking me quite a few questions, as I’ve mentioned, she came to me and said, “About six years ago, one of the disciples of Sri Aurobindo gave a talk at this very College: Trinity College. This gentleman gave a two-and-a-half-hour talk. He did not allow people to ask him questions. They found it very difficult to go up to the level he spoke about: the higher mind, the overmind, etc. Many of them left. At the end of his lecture he was feeling physically cold. He said, “Do you have anything here for recreation?” The young boys answered, “Yes, downstairs we have a ping-pong table.” So this Indian speaker ran to the basement with them and played ping-pong to warm up.

So the lady biographer said to me, “Sri Chinmoy, it is again very cold here. Do you want to play ping-pong to warm up?” I said, “No, I have spoken, and now I have brought forward my inner heat. So I don’t have to play ping-pong.” She began cutting jokes about my predecessor.

So these talks at Cambridge and Oxford were very, very significant. The two universities really deserve one’s appreciation, as do Harvard and Yale in the United States. My audiences heard my talks with great seriousness and sincere appreciation.

We went to Scotland twice. The first time, I gave a talk there. We had the same experience that we’d had at the University of Kent in Canterbury. At three minutes to eight, only three students had shown up for the eight o’clock talk. Then we saw a girl coming. We were hoping for a familiar face. She looked like one of our disciples in New York: her hair, her dress, her walk. “Look, Devaji,” Alo said, “there is B.” But it turned out to be a stranger. There was no one that we knew. Then at one minute to eight, eighty or ninety people poured in.

Then I gave my talk. It was very well received, with thunderous applause. In many places my talks received thunderous applause; here also.

One of the important questions was, “Do you think the Christ was a realised soul? Do you think he had any spiritual Light or Power? Do you think he was spiritual? I don’t think so. I want to have your opinion.” This was a young boy who had stood up to ask the question. He obviously felt that Christ was nothing. That was his understanding, and he wanted me to see eye-to-eye with him.

I said, “Unfortunately I cannot be at one with you. I feel that I have realised the Christ, so I can’t say that he didn’t have Light, that he didn’t realise God. How can I say that when I know definitely who Christ was, what Christ is? He was one with the Divine Consciousness and the Universal Consciousness. How can I say that he was nothing and that he is nothing? If your realisation says that he was nothing, then you will have to be satisfied with it. But my realisation says that Christ is spiritually unique.”

“Do you really mean it?” he continued.

“Mean it? This is my realisation,” I stated. “How can I say Christ was nothing, when I know what Christ is?”

Then another fellow took my side, but added, “Christ is the only Saviour.”

“O God,” I replied, “I have told you that I have fully realised the Saviour Christ, who is really the Son of God. He has infinite Light and infinite Consciousness. Now you say that Christ is the only Saviour. This is going from one extreme to another. One extreme says Christ was nothing, was absolutely useless. The other extreme says that he is the only Saviour. If Christ is the only Saviour, then I don’t know what Sri Ramachandra, Sri Krishna, Lord Buddha, Sri Ramakrishna, Sri Aurobindo and other spiritual Masters did on earth. I am sure that they also did something. If you say that Christ was a Saviour, immediately I must answer, ‘Certainly he was.’ But if you say, ‘He was the only Saviour,’ then I have to say that Krishna had something to offer to humanity. Rama, Buddha, Chaitanya, Ramakrishna, Sri Aurobindo and Ramana Maharshi also offered something to humanity.”

I continued, “If you say Christ is a Saviour, I am with you, but if you say he is the only Saviour, I must part company with you. The Supreme is the only Saviour. If you want to know who is the only Saviour of humanity, I say, ‘God, the Almighty, the Supreme.’ He is the only Saviour. The individual souls are also Saviours: Christ, Krishna, Buddha, etc. They are great Masters, too. An individual soul, a great Master, can be a Saviour, but the one true Saviour is the Absolute Supreme.”

Krishna, Christ, Buddha and the others started with the human consciousness, and they achieved the Universal Consciousness. They are within us. They are for us. They are humanity’s greatest pride and the Supreme’s greatest Pride.

Yet before Christ, prior to two thousand years ago, Existence was there. Before Buddha, Existence was there. Before Krishna also… thousands of years ago… Existence was there. Then what happened? Did the world cease to exist? If so, how are we alive today? Before the Saviour Christ, the world existed. That means that Somebody was saving the world, and that Somebody is the Absolute Supreme.

So let us not go from one extreme to another. All these great Masters are Avatars of the highest rank and all — Christ, Krishna, Buddha — are divine instruments of the Supreme.

From Scotland, we went to Wales. You know Wales, in the United Kingdom. I had an incarnation in Wales. Alo did also. We both got tremendous joy in Wales. While coming back, Alo wrote a unique tribute to me, entitled “My Guru.” She saw something which she always sees. What extraordinary experiences she had! So she wrote “My Guru.” A few days ago, I was reading her talk, sitting on my chair in my room. I will ask one of the New York disciples to send it. And what the Supreme said about Alo, about her talk, I will ask somebody to send a copy of also.

There in Wales we were very successful. Many people went to the Carmaerthon College to hear me speak. It was in Cardiganshire, a most beautiful place with soft, rolling, green hills. The campus itself had a certain divine charm.

The Professor of French was so enamoured of my talk that he came and stood right in front of me, looking at me with such wonder, admiration and adoration. And the Professor of Philosophy would not leave us. He was so excited, so happy. He went to a restaurant with us and for at least two hours he asked me questions on Indian philosophy and spirituality. He himself, being a Professor of Philosophy, found it somewhat embarrassing to ask questions on spirituality. Yet question after question he was asking me. He wouldn’t leave me. Two or three of his own students were with him, but he knew that this was his last chance to be with me. If he did not ask me questions on philosophy in front of his students, he would lose the opportunity completely. In the hall, he could not ask these questions because there were many, many students, and he wanted to retain his academic dignity.

In the restaurant he asked many, many questions on spiritual philosophy. Now in that restaurant, some customers were singing songs in the Welsh language, Gaelic. How powerful, soulful and sweet! There were about twenty singers. It was like a divine choir. We were enchanted beyond belief. Alo that night wrote a soulful letter to Akuti, our Connecticut Centre leader, praising that glorious singing. It reminded us of Indian music because there was no end to their music, so to speak.

The other day Alo was telling you that here in Puerto Rico you are not singing our Invocation to the Supreme very well. You were all carrying different tunes and singing in so many different keys. Also many other deplorable mistakes you were making. But in Wales, many different groups sang different lines of music: the young ones sang one way, the women sang one way, the boys and men sang another way — one song but sung in a variety of parts and ways. It was the seventh heaven of delight. They sang so soulfully. The experience was sublime. Alo wrote about it to Akuti and other Connecticut disciples.

Then we went to Switzerland: to Zurich, the main city of the German-speaking part. There we had a wonderful experience. I spoke at a college where there were two hundred or more in the audience. They seemed to range from twelve years of age to about twenty-three.

As soon as I ascended the platform, the students started sneezing, smiling and doing all kinds of mischievous things. For them, the most important thing was to giggle. Oh, what kinds of things they did! For three minutes this went on. Then I said to them, “Look, you are smiling outwardly. It is such an easy thing to do.” I myself started smiling at them. “Smiling is such an easy thing to do. You are doing it and I am doing it. Can you do something much more difficult? Can you smile inwardly?

“You are children and you are always fond of difficult games. Now I want you to smile inwardly. It is difficult to smile inwardly. You try.” While I was smiling at them, I was using my soul’s light. As I smiled at each child, he or she became calm and quiet. Another thing I was telling them: “Since you are all children, you always want to be courageous. Smile inwardly and make others feel that you have done something great.”

By the time they smiled inwardly, they had all become quiet. Then I gave my talk. It was very well received. The older ones asked very significant questions. The youngest ones were about twelve; the oldest, maybe twenty-three. They asked me very significant questions on meditation. I was so pleased with them.

From all the universities in which I spoke, there were so many significant questions. We will put out a book of all their questions and all my answers. You will see.

After an hour or so, they were supposed to leave to play basketball. Therefore almost all of them left. But there were twenty or twenty-five left. Then the President of the college said, “While they were misbehaving, I was looking at you and you were smiling at them. If it had been me, I would have stood up and told them to get out of this place. I was thinking of giving one boy a slap to make him behave properly. I was about to do that. But you were smiling at them to make them behave. You have real power.”

Then everything was over. One or two students wanted to meditate. They were about twenty years old. I said, “Now two persons want to meditate. If anybody else wants to meditate, I am ready to take you to the other room to meditate.” They applauded for seven or ten minutes. A few professors and the chaplain came with them. They all came inside another room for meditation. The professors were directly in front of me. For five minutes, I told them how to meditate. I taught them how to make the mind calm and quiet. After the instructions, they had a wonderful meditation.

Then they said to me, “Please give us your picture, your photograph!” But where were the pictures? Unfortunately my Transcendental Pictures were all exhausted. (I wrote to New York and X sent twelve or fifteen pictures they had at the Centre.) So I gave them my extra passport pictures. Of course, in my passport picture, there is light. I also had with me a few other pictures that I would never give to anybody, as they do not show any inner qualities; they are only informal snapshots. But about twenty-five passport and other photos I did give them. They were so happy that they could take my picture with them. But I felt so miserable that they needed spiritual pictures of me, because they wanted to meditate at home, and where were my pictures?

A few days later many pictures came from X in New York. We started distributing them at different places. Even then, after a few days we ran short. X had sent only the few photos remaining in the New York Centre, and then we started giving out ordinary pictures.

Now Switzerland: I like the place very much — very solid, clean, orderly. Switzerland is the land of dynamism and the land of beauty. Both Alo and I were very happy in Switzerland. We felt that the spiritual life could be accepted there because of its solid base and its ethereal beauty.

We went to the mountain-tops on a cable-machine and had a wonderful experience. I think you saw some pictures we took on the mountain peaks. We had a really successful experience in Switzerland, and we met some seekers whom we think will help us in the future.

Then we went to Ireland. In Ireland, we had the greatest success of all. Ireland took me immediately as its very own. The press was very courteous, very sympathetic and understanding. Everything they wrote was full of appreciative understanding.

I gave a talk at Trinity College in Dublin. It was wonderful. All of a sudden, a divine inspiration entered into Alo. This was before the press came. Her inspiration was to go personally to three different newspapers and tell them about me. Naturally they wanted to see me, so she invited them to my hotel. My room was on the sixth floor and the tiny elevator was not working. They didn’t mind. They climbed up six flights of stairs, huffing and puffing. These reporters came with deep respect and interviewed me very politely, from three papers.

There I saw a real fight amongst the photographers of the various newspapers. One photographer asked me to take this pose and the other one said, “No, we want him to take a better pose.” The third one said, “No, no, no, those poses don’t show his Indian robes to their best advantage. I want him to stand this way, not sit that way.” At one point they were actually fighting. Different photographers from different newspapers finally decided to each take their own photos. So in three newspapers there are totally different pictures. You have seen the cuttings. Very, very nice articles they wrote. One of them claimed me to be their Guru, the Guru of Ireland. It was so sweet and moving. To get back to the University of Dublin, Trinity College, they asked very sincere — very sincere — questions.

By the way, you know that Swami Vivekananda’s greatest disciple, Sister Nivedita, was born in Ireland. Her original name was Margaret Noble. So I told the audience a few things about her and about Swami Vivekananda’s teachings. They were very struck by my comments as they had totally, as a country almost, forgotten about Sister Nivedita. But in India, she has always been deeply admired for her spirituality and sacrifice.

Now something else is coming to my mind about Nivedita. While I was still working at the Indian Consulate, I would go occasionally on my lunch hour to Central Park, which is just a couple of blocks from the Consulate. I was very fond of (and am even now fond of) animals. So I went to the small zoo in Central Park, and I was looking at a lion. The lion was roaring inside his cage. All of a sudden I saw Nivedita right in front of me. I had been looking at the lion and was rather sad because I had to work so hard at the Consulate and was rewarded, it seemed, by having so much trouble getting the Indian Government to allow me to stay in the United States. They wanted me to return to India by a certain date because I had only a regular visa which limited me to six months in the United States.

I saw myself as a lion in a cage. Sister Nivedita said to me, “Look, this lion is roaring. Soon you are also going to roar, roar, roar all over the world. My Master, Swami Vivekananda, roared; he played his role. Now you too will roar all around the world. Your time is coming. You are the lion. This animal, this lion, is roaring but cannot come out of his cage. You are now in a cage; you are at the Indian Consulate. But soon you will be out of the cage and, at that time, you will roar all over the world. You will do infinite things on earth for the Supreme.”

Sister Nivedita said many more things about which I cannot speak but which, in my life, I will be able to prove true, if such is the Will of God.

So there, in Dublin, Ireland, while I was being interviewed by these press people, I was feeling her presence. When all the interviews were over, I saw her right in front of me once more. Again we had a most significant conversation. As you know, spiritual people do not die. Though it was so many years ago that she left the body, she is still roaming around. She is still alive. So… a most significantly special trip, this one to Ireland and the University of Dublin.

A disciple of mine from New England had written a letter to one of his friends who comes from Ireland but who is now in the States. That boy wrote to one of his friends who studies at Dublin University. So at the end of the talk, this friend came up to me and said, “I want to be your disciple.” I answered, “If you want to be my disciple, it is wonderful.” Immediately four or five other students insisted, “We want to be your disciples, too.” Then I said, “Then this could be a type of small Centre. Tomorrow I am going away. But right now, there is a room where I could teach you how to meditate, and then you must keep some connection with me.” They agreed very earnestly.

So we went into a room where we were to meditate, and to my surprise, twenty or twenty-five other students followed us. I asked, “Why are you all coming?” They answered, “We also want to be in your group. First we want to learn how to meditate.”

So I taught them all for a few minutes how to meditate. Out of the twenty-two or twenty-five, I saw that six or seven were drug addicts. I told them that I could not accept them as my disciples, that it was impossible. Another two or three had come only out of curiosity. But ten or eleven were extremely serious and made an inner decision to become real seeker-disciples. These students have been writing most devoted letters to us. They are running the Centre in Dublin very well. I am so proud of them.

Poor Alo, in all the universities, she had to do everything. She had to make all the last-minute arrangements for the halls, the lights, the microphones. She had to become the photographer. Many times our tape recorder failed, and all my talks were extemporaneous; nothing was prepared by me beforehand. All the talks were given on the spur of the moment. Here I was going to give a talk on “Attachment and Detachment”, a very significant talk. The tape recorder failed. Alo used shorthand which she had learned at the age of sixteen. She started to take down my talk in Pitman’s shorthand and she actually succeeded even though she had forgotten so much shorthand. It was such an important talk on “Attachment and Detachment”.

And she has to take photographs to retain the memories of our many activities. This moment she has to become the photographer and the next moment she has to become the stenographer. Then she has to see if my voice is coming through to the audience. I felt so sorry for her that day. She was speaking to the press, talking to the technicians at the University, writing, taking photos, talking to the seekers, making hotel arrangements, getting my Indian robes laundered and speaking to her old friends from the University of Toronto who had come to my lecture. They had not seen her since they all graduated in 1954.

At home in New York, Alo works at our Centre in Queens from 6:00 am to 2:00 am the next morning. She does all our correspondence from all over the world. She transcribes the tapes of all my Sunday and Thursday talks. She does all the cooking, the cleaning of our ten-room Centre, the gardening, the purchasing of food and the laundry. Preparing our Centre for the twice-weekly meditations is one of her most time-consuming jobs. It takes more than two hours. She has to vacuum the rugs, put out the heavy folding chairs, arrange the flowers, incense and candles. Decorating our shrine takes a long time since she puts fresh candles in the vigil-lights each time.

Alo does alone the work of fifteen or twenty disciples. Now some disciples are moving to Queens and have started to help her, but she has the full responsibility for everything. Not only on the physical level, but spiritually, behind the veil, Alo is the very life-breath of the Centre. Our disciples do not yet have the inner illumination to see what Alo is, spiritually, but one day, when their inner consciousness is awakened and illumined, they will value and cherish her. Here in Puerto Rico there are disciples who took her as their spiritual Mother in 1966 when they first met her. These disciples are extremely dear to our souls. Their inner oneness is so precious to our souls.

After England and Ireland, we went back to Scotland for a second time. This time we went to Glasgow. The first time, we were in Edinburgh. There we had a very successful meeting. But we didn’t think of a Centre at all. The last question I answered in my talk was, “You are going away tomorrow. What are you leaving behind? What are we going to do in your absence?” I asked, “What do you mean? In what way?”

They answered, “We want the spiritual life and we want to follow your path. Please tell us something that we can do in your absence. Give us something.” This type of request was made by these students at the University of Glasgow. I asked them, “Do you want me to leave a small group here?” One boy answered, “Yes, that is what I want. Whether others want it or not, for myself, I would like to be part of a small group. But if there is nobody else, I am ready to be your only disciple.”

So I replied, “When the meeting comes to an end, those who want to follow my path, please stay and we shall go somewhere else to meditate.” At that very moment, nine students jumped up. They were very sincere and dedicated. They later came and meditated with me in another room. I taught them how to meditate, and they did so very soulfully.

Again the same thing happened. Nine pictures we needed to give them, Transcendental Photos, but the pictures which X had sent from New York were long gone. We did not have nine pictures to give to these new seekers. I felt so sorry. I had to give them the passport picture and some absolutely silly pictures where I am in my ordinary consciousness, not in my highest. That kind of picture I had to give them. When we came back to New York, I asked X to send them more Transcendental Photos immediately. But when people ask for pictures and I can’t give them any, I feel really sorry. Sometimes it may happen that some curious people take my pictures and later throw them into the wastepaper basket. But these seekers did not ask out of curiosity; they were serious. The photos would help them to meditate properly.

Our very last talk of the whole trip was in a public hall in London, the famous Caxton Hall. Many people came, including some of Alo’s old classmates from the University of Toronto. At the end of the talk, we invited all the new London disciples to come up and stand on the platform. They were absolutely thrilled with joy and pride to be asked to stand up in Caxton Hall and be introduced as my disciples.

Now we have about twenty-five disciples in London. Out of these twenty-five, I wish to say that fifteen or sixteen are solid, very solid, disciples. They will really stay. Others may disappear. In all our Centres, this happens.

Here in Puerto Rico, when we started our journey, do you remember how many disciples came and how many new faces we saw? Yet only three or four of those original people have stayed. At least twenty-five old faces have disappeared.

Anyway, these three Centres in the British Isles are doing extremely well: London in England, Dublin in Ireland and Glasgow in Scotland.

During our trip to Europe, we received many, many letters; actually hundreds of letters. Agni’s letter was re-directed from Queens by X. One letter I got from Tony (Nivedan) and one letter was waiting for me when I got back from Indu (Margie Bouret). But from our President Carmen Suro, not even one. Carmen Maria Suro, who has written me the most devoted letters, did not write me even one letter! She was sick, she says. So in the inner world I found out what was happening in this Centre. In the outer world, this Centre was silent.

From Jamaica, West Indies, we got quite a few letters. From our New York Centre, Dulal wrote us many, many stories and anecdotes about the disciples, many good accounts of what was happening in New York. We used to get quite long letters with full information from many New York disciples. Each one told us something new about the Centre.

We used to get letters from the disciples about their sufferings — somebody is dying, somebody has flu, somebody has had an accident, etc. All kinds of news we used to get from the disciples. Dulal used to tell us most of this in his letters. Then we took immediate action.

I want to offer my deepest gratitude to the Supreme and to Mahalakshmi and Mahavishnu. They enabled us to have this divine experience of going to so many countries and offering the Supreme’s Light to the aspiring seekers. As you know, Alo and I are one, so I don’t have to offer my gratitude to her, since on the strength of our inseparable oneness, who will offer gratitude to whom?

These are the outer incidents that took place. In the inner worlds also, we accomplished something very strong and solid in the West. You will see how the Light is being spread and how Truth is growing. This is the achievement; this is the accomplishment.

We have entered into the world. “We” means you, you, you and everyone. You in Puerto Rico are deeply seated in our Boat. When we use the word “we”, we have to feel that each individual belongs to us and we belong to them. We are a spiritual family. This is our Mother Centre, and you will be surprised to hear that while I have told other disciples a few incidents, I have not told them the whole story. The whole story, from the beginning to the end, I have told only you, in Puerto Rico today.

Alo is writing something from the spiritual point of view about each university. I requested her to do this after I heard her telling Mahavishnu and Mahalakshmi what took place, what was the inner experience, what was the vision, and even what was the realisation in each particular university. She will write what she felt, what was happening and what she saw within me. This will be absolutely from the spiritual point of view. When it is completed, you will be able to see it. These juicy stories that I am telling you are all social, but from them, you can learn how the world has accepted us and because of your identity with us, how the world has accepted you.

The Supreme gave us enormous strength and cascades of energy. Otherwise, when I think of our journey in terms of human capacity, I am simply horror-struck. Even now it is beyond my imagination to recall what we achieved in such a short span of time: about twenty-six days, less than a month. How was it possible? Because the Inner Pilot, the Supreme, was operating in us and through us. It is His Mission. We are just His instruments. It is His Manifestation, and to fulfil that Manifestation, we came into the world. Every moment that we are fulfilling Him, we are also realising Him. The more we fulfil Him, the more we realise Him. For one purpose only, we came into the world: to fulfil the Supreme according to our capacity, our individual capacity.

In the morning we were in one place; in the afternoon somewhere else. At night, we went somewhere to give a talk and came back at one or two o’clock in the morning. This was our life.

We have to say that we travel to love and not that we love to travel. Whenever you go to New York, you also should feel that you are going to New York to love and not merely to travel.

So when I come here, I also come here to love you. My travelling is my loving. The other day at the San Juan television station I said, “I come here to be inspired and to inspire you. When I inspire you, you go deep within yourselves. When you go deep within, you inspire me to reveal my aspiration. The deeper you go with my inspiration, the easier it becomes for me to bring to the fore my aspiration. And I offer my aspiration to each one of you.”

I come here to be inspired and to inspire you. It is you who, after taking my inspiration, bring my aspiration to the fore. That aspiration again I offer to you and try to help you to reach your highest Realisation.