my birthday eve

Tomorrow it will be exactly one year since I first met, saw, hugged and cried in the arms of a Paramhamsa.
'I am always with you, Ma. Always.' He had reassured me.

I remember a story, read in a big fat hardbound book, based on the life of an old timer marathi saint, Gondawalekar Maharaj. When Maharaj was seven years old, he met a strange old man sleeping in the village temple. (Those days villages were small and a passerby was immediately noticed). Maharaj gave him some food and asked him,

'Where are you going, old man?'

The old man was so old, he couldnt even walk without a stick. He finished his meal, had a glass of water and stood up, balancing himself with the stick.

'I am seeking my master.' he told the little boy.

'I see. And who is your master?'

'I dont have one, that is why I am seeking him, no? '

'But why now? You are so old, you should stay put. You might die on the way.'

'Death is certain. The next birth is also certain. What I dont know is this: It took me all my life to come to this conclusion that I must seek a Guru. God knows how many births I will have to go through before I get this yearning again. So it is better I seek him now. If I die on the way, maybe God will have mercy on me and make me a seeker in my next life.
Nice talking to you, but I must be on my way. Goodbye, Salaam, Namaste.' And he was off onto the next village.

This incident did the job of waking up Gondawlekar Maharaj, at the tender age of seven.

Why should I wait till I am seventy? Why not start now? If this is what it comes to, better I dont waste time.

And off he went, walking all over India. From Mahrashtra to Bengal to kashi. Later in the book, he even meets my ex-ex-boyfreind, Ramakrishna Paramhamsa.

'Kill yourself. You kill yourself. You can do it.' Ramakrishna told him. (!) They knew what to say to whome and who can take what, these greats. Not like us who get reassured, and our tears and noses wiped.

So how did I celebrate my first birthday eve? By starting a meditation and healing center in my home. Three people had come for the satsang, two of them had brought along their little pigtailed daughters, so my boy had his own party in Papas room. We did Nithya Dhyaan and then some healing.

I even got a birthday present. For the past one year I have been doing this same meditation alone, and its almost always been a bit of a struggle, a little boring, legs going to sleep and all that. But today, I was not sitting. I was flying. My whole body participated in the process. All my cells were singing different, independent songs. So this is why they meditate?