January 10, 1973
Good morning, Mother!
(Mother hands a basket to Satprem)
This is mouthwash! And these are eggs.
Now what do you have to tell me?
No, it's difficult. A difficult period ...
For me too.
Where does that come from?
...we can go in the silence if you like?
Yes, Mother, certainly! But I was asking where it comes from.
(after a silence)
In my own case, I know: it's because everything that needs to be transformed is rising from the subconscient, and it's in-ter-mi-nable.... It keeps rising and rising and rising....
And with each little thing looms the possibility of catastrophe. So you live in a constant suggestion of catastrophes – I know where it comes from, I know what it is, but it isn't pleasant.
And there's a new kind of malaise. Something new. As I was telling you, there's a new and wonderful joy that comes! But it comes the way you disclose something, you know... (Mother dangles an imaginary lure between her fingers): “See, this is what you could have.” Exactly like that. “It could be like this,” and brrrt, it's gone!
So really, I'd rather not talk about it.
(Mother plunges in for twenty minutes, then goes out of her room and comes back)
Would you like to stay a little more?
You'll be late, Mother, no? It's already eleven.
You were called in late.
That doesn't matter!
Have you got some work to do?
No, Mother, not at all! But You have some work to do!
Oh, me... (Mother raises her arms). I live in a constant contradiction – constant, constant... With all sorts of suggestions: “This way, you could die; that way, you could die....” So I simply reply, “I don't care!” Then it calms down.
My consolation was that I thought I was doing this for everybody; that once I had done it, it would be done – but evidently a lot of people are in the same difficulty.
Yes, but when you have finished, it'll be finished for them too.
Let's hope so....
To comfort me, there is a kind of assurance from above, that if I reach my centenary, I will start going uphill again. But it's still far off. How many years left?
Five years, Mother.
Oh, mon petit! Five more years in this hell!...
We'll try to go with you to the end.
Oh, you.... (After a silence) You will go to the end.
Oh, Mother.... But I can go. to the end only if you go there also!
(Mother laughs silence)
But you know, at the same time, I am aware of the divine forces going through like this (gesture through the body). I try to obstruct as little as I can. And it gives some extraordinary results: constantly, there are... what people call “miracles.”
But to me, things are not yet as they could be – as they SHOULD be.
The possibility of suffering, for example – suffering from pain, suffering... a purely physical fact (all the nonphysical things are: Mother makes an immutable and peaceful gesture to indicate the inner states), but something purely physical: really, the capacity for suffering must disappear. Not that I don't want to suffer, but... it isn't a nice gift to give people!
The years are long, long, long, long....
It's like this: two or three hours can go by in a second, and half an hour can last for hours. Everything, but everything is upside down.
(Mother gestures: what to do?
And then – oh, I haven't told you: yesterday or the day before, I don't remember, all of a sudden, for two or three minutes, my body was seized by the horror of death – the idea of being put like this (gesture of being tossed into a hole) in a tomb was so horrifying! Horrifying.... I couldn't have stood that more than a few minutes. It was HORRIFYING. Not because I was buried alive, but because my body was conscious. It was considered “dead” by everybody for the heart had stopped beating – yet the body was conscious.
That... that... that was a horrible experience.... I was displaying all the signs of “death,” you know, the heart wasn't working, nothing was working – but I was conscious. The body was conscious.
We must... we must warn people at least not to rush to... (gesture into a hole).
No, we won't let that happen, don't worry. We just won't let it happen.
Mother hold Satprem's hands, she smiles)
You are sweet.
(Mother looks at the table beside her) I would like to give you something that you like.
I would like your presence with me, always.
Oh, that... more and more!
(To Sujata:) How are you, mon petit?
Quite well, little Mother.