Page 437 - Light of Divinity

Light of Divinity

One night again found me weeping in front of his photograph.
Suddenly, his hand came out of it. On the divine being’s hand, I
could see people—small, ant-like and mobile. In fact, Guruji often
says the sangat appears to him like insects. Now I knew it was
literally true. More importantly, who else but God could hold the
beings of this planet on his hand. Guruji is indeed the sovereign king
of the earth. Then I saw that Guruji could grant darshan of Brahma,
Vishnu and Mahesh anywhere. I dreamt that my innocent seven-
year-old self came before me and found a bit of foam in my hair just
behind my right ear. The foam transformed into four golden screws.
These opened and Lord Shiva’s idol came out along with two more.
A divine voice identified these as the trinity. And I knew my guru
was the Overlord of all Gods. He was HIM.

Once while I was with Guruji in Chandigarh and it was quite late
at night, he scolded one of his devotees, Navraj, for falling asleep.
Navraj was indeed finding it hard to keep his eyes open. So Guruji
scolded him a few times and kept him from going to sleep.

After I had returned home, I had a clear dream. Guruji was sitting
on his throne while sangat members who had passed away, including
my mother, were sitting before him dressed in white. This was
Guruji’s sangat in the other world. I also saw Navraj holding pails of
milk for the sangat. I took the dream to mean that had Navraj slept
that night he would have died.

The purpose of the Satguru’s scolding is hidden. Once when I had
mustered enough strength to come to Delhi during Shivratri, he
scolded me. Angrily and loudly, he asked me to go away. I neither
had langar nor prasad, and went right back. I cried my heart out
in front of Guruji’s photograph. I told him that even I was not so
strict with my university students. But Guruji was shouting at what
possessed me. And he was trying to erase my ego.

Footnotes on him

I am a poetess and once wrote some 20 stanzas on Guruji. I gave
them to him and he put them in his pocket, saying you will write
more. Right away I found myself writing a hundred stanzas, with
new and unique imagery, on him effortlessly.

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