Today (July 2015) I was listening to the story of Rajak and Dadu, the story of how Rajak met Dadu for the first time. It is a beautiful story, and it brought back memories of my first meeting with the master.
It was a sunny August morning (1994), the first day of our postgraduate classes, and all the students were meeting their new classmates. As is common, the girls formed a group with girls and the boys with boys. In the girls’ group, I suggested we should also introduce ourselves to the boys and join their group. There were about five of us, and since we already knew each other from the same college, everyone instantly agreed.
We approached the boys’ group, which also consisted of about 4-6 boys. The first guy introduced himself, then the second, and so on. I don’t remember the exact sequence, but when the master spoke, I vividly remember the moment. He was wearing a brown and white shaded shirt and dark brown pants. When he spoke his name, one of the girls said, “Pardon?” He repeated it in a way that stuck with me, but before I could react, our teacher called us into the classroom. I rushed in, eager to sit in front. Another girl sat next to me, and then I saw the classroom door:
Through the door, the master was entering. As I saw him, my eyes seemed to see him illuminated by the sun behind him (don’t ask me how), and without my knowledge, my heart silently prayed, “God, please make him sit next to me.”
And the master came and sat next to me. My heart was filled with joy, as if I had found my true home. But all this happened in such a brief moment that I soon forgot the feelings. It took me years, years spent with the master, to acknowledge what my heart had recognized in that one instant.
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