Coming down in a golden chariot ⁵⁰

My mother’s life could be measured in minutes. It was a matter of four or five minutes. I came back home running and crying from my maternal uncle’s house.

My mother was too weak to speak. She put her hand on my right hand and placed her other hand on my eldest brother Hriday’s hand, and in this way she asked Hriday to take care of me.

Hriday said to my mother, “Mother, do not worry. I will take care of Madal.”

At this point, my mother breathed her last.

Then Ajoy’s grandmother came running to our place. She wanted to know whether her dream was true. She had been enjoying her siesta. She saw in a dream that it was drizzling a little bit and my father was coming down in a golden chariot. In India when it is drizzling, it is a very good sign, a sign of prosperity. My father was scattering rose petals while he was coming down in the golden chariot to take my mother. Ajoy’s grandmother was seeing my father at the very time of my mother’s passing. My father’s soul she saw, and my mother was inside my father’s chariot, going up. She saw it in her dream, and she came running to our place. Even while she was in our house, she was seeing that my father was taking my mother’s soul in a golden chariot.

My eldest sister, Arpita, was at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry at that time. Pondicherry time and Chittagong time are the same, and she was also enjoying her siesta. She saw in a dream that my mother had passed away, although she did not see a golden chariot.