(Mother is unwell again. Satprem could not<\/i>
see
\nher for a week.)<\/i>
\n
Everything is in a daze.
\n
I can no longer see, no longer hear, I spend my nights coughing.
\n
The doctor can’t make any sense of it. Medically, everything is supposed to work very well, then in a few minutes everything gets disorganized.
\n
I see you as if through a thick fog.
\n
All that is inside seems to want to come outside…. I am familiar with this sort of magic.<\/p>\n
V. has had another vision. He went to the Vatican.<\/i><\/p>\n
To the Vatican! … In his sleep?<\/p>\n
He wasn’t asleep: he could hear the noise of the [Ashram’s]<\/i><\/p>\n
generator. It was a vision at 5:30 in the morning. He found<\/i><\/p>\n
himself in an immense hall with red carpets. There were all<\/i><\/p>\n
kinds of people there, each moving about according to his<\/i><\/p>\n
order. Then, in a corner, seated in a big armchair, there was a<\/i><\/p>\n
man wearing a red hat, a sort of miter,<\/i>[[V. is an Indian who had never seen a miter in his life and does not know what it is, but his description tallied precisely. ]] and in concentration. <\/i>\n <\/p>\n
He was concentrated, and was repeating something with a cer<\/i><\/p>\n
tain gesture of the hand, as if turning something in a circle. V. <\/i>\n <\/p>\n
instantly knew it was him. A man with intense blue eyes, long<\/i><\/p>\n
eyelashes, not strong physically but with a very powerful<\/i><\/p>\n
appearance, a thin, pointed nose, a sparse beard like that of<\/i><\/p>\n
someone who doesn’t shave properly or hasn’t shaved for two<\/i><\/p>\n
or three days, about fifty-five years old. A man who gave the<\/i><\/p>\n
impression of a great egoistic ambition, says V. And he was<\/i><\/p>\n
intently watching P.L., particularly your symbol which P.L. <\/i>\n <\/p>\n
wears around his neck. And he was repeating something while<\/i><\/p>\n
turning his wrist.<\/i><\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Oh, that’s it! That’s why: P.L. went back there, and it’s since then that the attacks have come back.
\n
Page 273<\/font><\/p>\n Yes, P.L. is the link.<\/i><\/p>\n (after a silence)<\/i> Yes, they have come back. At times, in the space of a few seconds it falls on you in such a way as to make you think you’re going mad. Last night, it was terrible. And you, are you better?<\/p>\n Yes, it went away completely, just as suddenly.<\/i><\/p>\n When you spoke to me last time, I took the thing … (gesture of pulling out an invisible dark point from Satprem’s atmosphere).<\/i> I can’t speak; as soon as I speak, I start coughing. But if you like, we can remain quiet. (meditation)<\/i> * * * (During the meditation, Mother’s attendant silently walks<\/i> through carpet. Has someone come in the room?<\/p>\n Yes, Vasudha.<\/i><\/p>\n (Mother coughs) Impossible to speak. Oh, the other day, on Durga’s day, [[The puja or yearly celebrations to Durga, this year on September 29 (Sunday). ]] I went over there [to the music room where Mother sees people]…. I told you last year that she had come and made her surrender. This time, I went there (it was the first time I’d come out); as soon as I entered the room, I felt there was something, an impending attack. So I sat down, kept very still, and called the Lord as usual so He would fill the room with his light. And it was She who came in a golden light – a glory of adoration and consecration! She stood there (immense gesture). <\/i>It was magnificent! Magnificent. And the whole morning was very good. Then, in the afternoon, things went wrong again.<\/p>\n Couldn’t you strike at these people a little?<\/i><\/p>\n \n Page 274<\/font><\/p>\n I can’t strike! (Mother opens her arms) <\/i>I no longer can! I I tell them, “Come, come, what’s the use?” Durga, So, till Wednesday. I hope things Page 275<\/font><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" October 5, 1968 (Mother is unwell again. Satprem could not see her for a week.) Everything is in a daze. I can no longer see, no…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[144],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6281","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-09-volume-09","wpcat-144-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6281","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6281"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6281\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6281"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6281"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6281"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\nthe room, without making the least noise on the<\/i>
\nA few seconds later, Mother stops the meditation:)<\/i>
\n
\n
\n
\nsmile at them.
\ntoo, I have taught her not to strike.
\nwill be better.