A Life of Service

Bapu.

She is a tiny woman; maybe 5 feet, if she stands on her tiptoes. She might be easy to miss if you are not listening or watching for the invisible.

Bapu is about 82, and is Swamiji’s niece (the daughter of Swamiji’s eldest sister). She lives with Swami Vishwananda, looking after his every need. She came to live with him when he got sick many years ago and has stayed. She knows how to serve; quietly, elegantly and whole-heartedly.

My real relationship with her began two visits before, when our love for each other began to shine in our eyes. I noticed mine lit up when she walked into the room; she would enter so very, very quietly. She almost slips around the door frame; her own light frame silently appearing. The presence of her body is followed by a gentle smile and then her eyes light up and she pours oceans of love into you before she ever so slightly lowers hers to the floor. She refuses help in the kitchen and a small explosion arises when I try to move the dishes off of the table and into the kitchen. ‘It is my duty’ she says, with her eyes shining invisible beams of light straight into my heart and I know that she really means it. “It makes me so happy to serve you…”

She drifts in and out of the room as Swamiji tells me story after story of his experiences with great saints, but today, at the end of the second day of stories and pictures, his stories drifted into the life of Bapu and pictures and stories of her spiritual life came out to lie on the same table where a lifetime of stories about great Masters and those who love to be in their presence, had lain. There she was, with Papa and Mataji. Next came a story of Anandamai Mai and the time that Ma heard this sweet girl (Bapu) singing Bengali chants. Ma was captivated by her voice and would always make Bapu sing…When Anandamai Ma came to Bangalore, Bapu composed a beautiful song to Ma, right on the spot. Everyone in the audience was wildly and appreciatively clapping. Later I came to learn that she plays the Veena and is quite a composer.

When she visited Anandashram, Papa used to ask her to sing Om Sri Ram Sri Ram Jai Jai Ram in the hall. Once when she had chanted for over an hour, Mataji brought her buttermilk to sooth her throat. This picture of Mataji and Papa is very special to both Swamiji and Bapu, as Bapu was allowed to stand next to Papa; something that Swamiji, himself never had the privilege to do.

…And then, in the quiet afternoon, inside the yellow house in Bangalore, in early March, with Swami Vishwananda and myself, Bapu unexpectedly burst into song…For 15 minutes we were treated to the heartfelt Bengali songs that she had also sung for Anandamai Ma. She has stolen my heart one more time.
Jai Ma! Jai Papa! Jai Bapu! Jai Swamiji!

Peggy's Garden in Digboi, Assam

Hi,
I went to Digboi to visit Peggy Carswell and her husband, Kel. She lives in Merville and is doing her very best to inspire the tea growers in Assam to grow organic tea. She has a demonstration garden there that is awesome. This photo is one of her and Pompy, her administrative assistant and right hand woman. Pompy is sharp and very competent. She also manages the garden when Peggy comes back to Canada. While I was there I met two lovely women who were from Canada. Peggy encourages volunteers to come and experience organic farming. She uses Bio Dynamics and Vrikshayurveda. She's very dedicated. Here is her website address: http://www.fertile-ground.org/

It was raining and really cold in Digboi and I felt so very much like a Princess. I hate being cold and did not bring the right clothes to India. Luckily there are no wimpy photos of me dressed in four layers and then wrapped in their down sleeping bag. It was not a pretty picture, but I lived.
It's warm in Delhi. At last.

Holi in Dibrugahr, Assam

Yesterday was Holi in India. My hosts here had been invited to a Holi celbration and they promised me that the people at the party we were going to were definitely not going to "play colors"...So off I went in my good clothes, glad to have a real invitation to meet real families. A rarity when one travels...My hosts where I am staying are in mourning so they assured me that this year there would be none of 'that'.... HA!

Soon after we arrived a woman appeared at the door with her husband; she was splashed with colors all over her face and clothes. OH OH... It went straight up from there; Laughter, drinking (not by me though), running, intense colors being smeared all over your body and clothes and THEN came the water. Bottles of water, ice cubes and finally the hose...My kind of people. I threw caution and the preservation of my beloved skirt and dress to the wind and jumped into the fun head first. They were delightful to play with; sparing no one, not even the foreigner; especially the foreigner.

Suddenly the sound of drums drifted through the joy-filled air and we rushed out to the street to see the tail-end of a troupe of young people dancing along in the street. One of the women invited them to come in; I watched in awe as this group of about 30 young people began dancing very some very complex local dances, flowing and snaking to the right and left; arms linked together and all the while to the steady beat of the drum. The others, smeared with brilliant colors watched and grinned in loving amusement and approval.

When it was finished, our hosts for the evening brought out a golden metal jar filled with money. What came next brought tears to my eyes. The whole group of young people, including our hosts gently dropped to their knees while the young people chanted Vedic chants from the scriptures (I have captured a half of a minute of it here). When the chanting was over our hosts gave them their money and they were on their way; no fuss, no muss; gone.

I began to get chilled and the other women suggested I jump into the hot shower and wash everything off, while they found some clothes for me to wear. (good thing we wore about the same size). Dinner came later; rice, beans, subji and MUTTON! (at last, some meat)... for desert there was a pineapple upside down cake, kheer and some sort of sweet pancake with sauce.

We all retired to the screened in porch and then the cards came out. POKER had arrived!!!! About six of them played raucous, good-hearted poker for an hour or so and then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. We all went our separate ways with our clean bodies, fresh clothes, full bellies, fond memories and warm hearts in cars that were glistening and wet as they waited in the gently falling rain.

HOLI...I loved it.