Excerpt from the book ’82 Family Letters: To the Western Family of Lovers and Followers of Meher Baba’ by Mani S. Irani.
Source: Michal Namo
It was in 1942, during the second world war. Baba was travelling with 3 of His mandali in one of the third-class compartments of a train so packed with humanity that even the door steps were crowded with people hanging onto the handlebars; while the only means of entry left to the desperate was through the windows. Baba and His men were tired after their strenuous hunt for masts, and even this crammed accommodation secured in the train meant some relaxation for them. After a station or two, an old Mohammedan with a white flowing beard was seen to rush to a window of their compartment, holding aloft a 5 year old boy, begging the sardine-packed passengers to take him in. With voluble protests, the passengers kept pushing the boy away, saying it was absolutely impossible, and as the train whistled its starting signal the old man got desperate, shouting “For God’s sake take the child in!” At this, Baba ordered the mandali to intervene and take the boy inside. Amidst loud arguments with their co-passengers, the mandali pulled the child inside; and the old man was just in time to run off to some perch next door as the train started. However, he kept returning at every stop to see if all was well with the boy, who was sitting beside Baba. Seeing his pathetic anxiety, and (as Eruch said) Baba has always had an affinity for bearded old men, Baba told the mandali to also get the old man in! The mandali set to work, and after a storm of protests, arguments and assurances, the old man was hauled in through the window — he squeezed himself into the space offered next to Baba and seated the child on his lap. Baba was “disguised” in ordinary clothes, fur hat (Kashmiri type), and dark glasses.
In the course of conversation with the old man, the mandali learned he was from Gulbarga (a town famous for one of the biggest shrines, of a Perfect Master, in India) and asked if he knew of any masts thereabouts, as they were in search of men absorbed in love for God. In reply the man shrewdly asked where they came from, and learning they were from Ahmednagar he expressed great astonishment that they should go in search of saintly persons. He asked if they had heard of Meher Baba, and when the mandali casually admitted they had, he laughed derisively at them and said that being Zoroastrians and living in Ahmednagar they should be ashamed to go in search of men absorbed in love of God when there was One in their own community and town who could give them God Himself! What an irony of fate it was, he said, that they who lived in Ahmednagar did not care to visit Meher Baba, while he being in Gulbarga had journeyed twice to visit Him at Meherabad and could not see Him — once because Meher Baba was away to a foreign country, and once because He was in seclusion. “But”, he added “I am determined to pay my respects to Him before I die, and I will go to Meherabad with my whole family.” When the train stopped at Gulbarga the old Mohammedan thanked the gracious passenger by his side for having taken such pains to accommodate him and his boy, and got down.
Shortly after, Baba told Eruch to run after the old man and present him with Baba’s picture (which was in a copy of the ‘Meher Baba Journal’ that Eruch had with him), reveal to him Who his companion in the train was, tell him that Meher Baba blessed him and his family and that now there was no need for him to visit Meherabad. Eruch caught the old man just outside the station getting into a tonga (a two-wheeled horse carriage), and delivered the picture and message. When the old man learned of Baba’s identity, he exploded with anger at Eruch, roundly abusing him for having kept it a secret during all those hours when he had been sitting right next to Baba — not failing to include the entire “younger generation” in his abuse! As Eruch ran back to catch his train, the old man ran after him for all he was worth, reaching Baba’s compartment just as the train was moving out of the station. Baba was ready at the window, wearing a happy smile, without hat or glasses, and leaning out He placed His hand on the old man’s head in blessing.
Michal Namo’s idea for a play around the above story:
The photos below are a story from Family Letters by Mani, letter 60, from Meherazad 20.8.1964, pg. 202-203, that is both funny and touching. And a very lively and expressive scene too.
I think it can also make a good short Baba skit.
I can see how the compartment is squished and crowded like a sardine box,
Some of it can be only painted as background by the participants of the Sahavas.
And only 2 benches, facing each other for the squished Mandali and Beloved Baba.
And Cliff can make the percussion sounds.
And the protesting of the other passengers can be asked from the audience to share their voices of protest in the right places.
All are shaking together on the benches to the beat of the train movements…
Actually the skit audience can be asked to shake in their seats to the beat, and think they themselves are sitting now in this compartment with Baba himself.
And the child can be a dressed doll or big teddybear or pillow, dressed in child wear and cap.
Baba is hiding behind the fur hat and dark glasses.
But when Baba showed Himself, then a Baba photo face can be placed instead, or just a mustache attached and long hair. I can actually see it happening right now.