Meeting with Babaji...............Lovers of Babaji..............

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"Neti, Neti" - Not this, not that.

Sanskrit words expressing the inexpressible - the Ultimate, the Absolute, the Transcendental, the Divine, God. How often I have said I can never write about Babaji. So beyond expressions beyond the ken of the wildest imagination. The most outrageous fantasies pale beside him. In truth I don't know what he is. No one can fathom him. No words successfully describe him. Words by their nature limit. He in every aspect is limitless. Yet I feel an urgency to share him with those open to God, to tell those who have been seeking God, searching for reality, peace, liberation, Truth in its highest form, of his presence in mortal form and of his message of Truth, Simplicity and Love and the constant remembrance of God's name-this teaching which offers safety even from atom bombs, yet is simple, intimate to one's being, and the basis of all religions.
My first remembrance of Babaji came through Paramahansa Yogananda when I read his "Autobiography of a Yogi". Babaji, the deathless guru, the Yogi-Christ of India, as Yogananda calls him, Shiva Mahavatar (the highest form of God) "divinity in the flesh", "maintaining his physical form from century to century". Sometimes visible to people, often working invisibly for the redemption and salvation of the human race. (Autobiography p. 295) Who could read of him, his beauty, his power, his never-dying love and protection of his devotees, without being moved to call out to him? Especially so when Yogananda relates: "Whenever anyone utters with reverence the name of Babaji, that devotee attracts an instant spiritual blessing." (Autobiography, p.300).

I remember the yearning I felt then to experience this immortal master of masters, whose youthlike body, beautiful and strong, bears no marks of age but radiates a perceptible glow. The thought never occurred to me in those days that I could ever meet this peerless one who appears from time to time and vanishes into light at will, whose "undecayable body requires no food" (Autobiography, p.300), who is seen or recognised by others only when he so desires. The image of Babaji was by far the most enticing concept my searching mind had ever imagined and, though I never doubted the veracity of Yogananda's description, only the seeming impossibility. of ever encountering this divine being allowed the flames of desire in my heart to subside and the memory of his existence to retreat again into the subconscious. I believe that this longing for him and the remembrance of him in all his glorious splendour has always been alive in my subtle awareness, permitting me to find neither peace nor satisfaction in anything else. I believe so, yes. I cannot say I know. So much concerning Babaji one can feel as Truth with the heart. The mind can never know these things. These matters are beyond the ken of the mind.

Several years after reading Autobiography, I learned that Babaji was in physical form and living in the Kumaon hills of the Himalayan mountains in India. It took not a moment to decide that I could come to see him. I gave notice to the law school where I taught and four months later found myself in flight to India, my mind floating at the thought and stories of this pure light who had taken on human form for the salvation of mankind. En route I opened the small Spiritual Diary of Yogananda which I had just purchased. How perfect the words for that day

"It is because God wants you that I am here with you, calling you to come Home, where my Beloved is, where Krishna, and Christ and Babaji, and the other saints are. "Come", the Lord is saying. "They are all rejoicing in Me. No worldly joys can compare with the divine joys of my home. There is only one Reality. It is He. Forget everything else."

I remember that first walk up the river valley to Babaji's ashram, crossing the holy Gautama Ganga River 10 or 12 times, the stones white, the waters sparkling in the sunshine. The feeling I had was that I had finally come home. Nothing had ever felt so familiar. It seemed that every place I had ever loved was reflected here, a piece of this whole. After an immeasurable period of time, which turned out to be about 1.5 hours, I saw the ashram, with the 9 temples on one side, colourfully rising out of the golden Mount Kailash, the legendary abode of Lord Shiva, outlined by a bright blue sky. On the other side, tiny pink and white buildings and a white--domed temple sat high atop a long white staircase. Like a fairy land, it looked. Then I heard someone say, "Baba is coming". I remember only my head at his feet. Everything in my life has since taken reference to this point of time. For me, there is only before meeting Babaji and after. Nothing else is of significance. It has been more than two years since that day when my eyes first feasted on his beauty, when my ears first filled with the sweet melody of his voice, his laughter, when I first smelled the unimaginable fragrance of his presence. Incomparable is the joy of loving him, of immersing the mind in thoughts of him. Satiation seems impossible, fascination with anything concerning him inevitable and with anything else unimaginable.

Shall I tell you something of his beauty? Like everything else about him, words fail to capture. Neti, Neti. He is so illusive, like light, like a cloud. You cannot bottle these things. Besides, he changes, sometimes from moment to moment. What is this beauty? One gazes and gazes and still the mind cannot fathom the infinity which is his nature. He wears his mortal form like a shawl to cover his Light. He is not bound by it. He changes it at will. This is clearly reflected in the photographs taken of him since his appearance in 1970. The differences are enormous.

[These are the Expressions of Mahendra Baba]