Baba
Historical day: Baba's coming out from jail
~ Below three stories courtesy of WhatsApp Forums ~
šMemory of 2nd Agust 1978, an exhilareted event, can not b erased from my life. When Baba emerged from out of jail, broke fast with green cocoanut water from His loving sister ( forgot her good name ), thousands of marga followers were arround the area & it was a serene afternoon. The whole town was calm & quite. Dada, Didi were rejoicing with crackers, some of overseas marga follwers sitting on the elephant spraying colour podwer, flowers. The common people just observing the event climbing to the top of their nearby building.
Baba cavalcade started moving with Parampurush in a car & we all following, sterted running after the car up to Patliputra colony, where a house was beautifully decorated for Him. Baba's health condition was not all right. After Baba's arrival there, first we listened to Dada Raghunatha ji, who after his short lecture, declared that His Holiness has been kind, in spite of His bad health, to give Darshan on next day, dated 3rd August & urged upon us to b present & we were directed to Sadakat Bhawan, a Bihar Govt. Guest House.
A very simple food, shelter was arranged for all of us including some overseas margiis.
Every one with pleasure, were enjoying the food & Baba nam kirtan was all arround the whole night. That was my First presence in an Ananda Marga Congregation which completely changed my way of life, attitude of my life & easily realised that the whole humanity today or tomorrow would be wedded to the gospel that marga has been preaching all over the plannet.
We all with extreme anxiety waiting for that golden Muhurta, when arround 9.30/10 AM, next day Baba came to a temprary pendal & kept His first discourse after release & with me were thousand followers in kneel down position in an inch-deep-rain water with raft attention to HisHoliness words & that was my First Guru darshan.
By Bishnu Rout
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Baba Meets Lakhs of His Children
It was a family reunion. The Father had returned after a lapse of seven excruciating years. It was tearful, joyful, uproarious, hilarious, delirious. The reception the uncountable people gave to their Father may be conceived but impossible to describe in words. When this reporter asked some of His innumerable children how they felt like on meeting Baba, no words came out. The expression on their countenance was more eloquent than their words. The Father would smile His uncanny smile that would throw His children into rapturous ecstasy. Baba greeted them with folded hands and the devotees ran and ran along the route to have a fleeting glimpse of that inscrutable Face on which a million smiles played and danced.
It was a unique day. There was sound of thunder and laugher in the sky. The sun played hide and seek out of sheer joy. There would rise up a tingling breeze which would cool down the glistening sweat on the foreheads of lakhs (hundreds of thousands) of devotees waiting expectantly before Bankipur Central Jail gate. It was a sheer pleasure to look at the tops of the tall buildings packed with people and the roof of the Indian Nation on the opposite side teeming with thousands. No minaret, no garret, no window, no gallery could found that was not overflowing with men, women and children.
There was laughter in the fountains. The city of Patna looked like a soon-to-be bride. In its bridal attire it looked both gay and solemn as befitting the occasion. Seven arched gates were specially erected in memory of the seven immortal self-immolators through which Baba’s motorcade passed. The first triumphal gate was named after Acarya Divyananda Avadhuta and the gate at the terminus was named after Brahmacarinii Asitima Acarya. Life-sized busts in ink and pencil were there of each of them. Long banners were hung up giving brief bio-data, mentioning the date and place of their sacrifice.
I am Mr. X reporting from near the outside of Bankipur Central Gate. I see people, people, people, all around. All eyes are glued on one spot. Time is ticking away but no one is going to leave their spot. Everyone is rooted to their place. The crowd moves only in order to get closer to the gate. Everybody is wondering whether they will be able to have holy Darshan. Everything else has no meaning. Everything is dead and buried except Baba, Baba, Baba. While recollecting the scene, tears of pearls are flowing through my pen.
A couple in their seventies with their teenage daughter is straining their necks to see what is going on near the gate. Every minute it looks as if Baba’s car were coming out. Here goes another false alarm. Look at that gentleman! He has caught hold of his friend by the hips and lifted him of the ground so that one of them at least could see better. The lifted man is having a survey of what can be seen behind the gate.
It is a riot of colours. Banners of all sizes and shapes flutter whenever there is a whiff of air. Every third person is holding a display poster. Many of them have inscriptions of Baba’s sayings, especially the latest ones emanating from His sickbed in the jail. Two goods trucks are standing nearby full of people singing, “Baba Nam Kevalam”, interspersed with slogans, “Shrii Shrii Anandamurtiji ki Jai,” and “Ananda Marga Amar Hai”.
On one side is Patna railway station from which devotees are still pouring out.
Red colour is prominent. The nearby railway station is made of red bricks. So is the Jail. The sentry on watch tower is keeping his vigil. The Avadhutas clad in red and saffron are in the vanguard of the massive crowd. Their attire is as resplendent as their faces.
My reed pen is broken. I cannot describe that split second in which Baba gained His physical freedom – when the gates opened as if of themselves.
When Baba’s car shot out and came to a halt with thousands upon thousands surrounding it. I remember two folded hands and a benign smile and a city gone raving mad.
I remember Baba Nam Kevalam chorus rending the air. I remembers showers, baths of petals of fragrant roses. I remember fragrance that my nostrils still carry. It was an unearthly joy. It was madness, hysteria at its best. Everything was uncontrollable. Emotions had their full sway and sovereignty…
Neither camera nor words would be able to describe what happened on that auspicious day.
I am Mr. Y near Patna railway station. Here is a batch of Ananda Marga devotees from the capital of India alighting from the train. Now they are raising slogans. The slogans are getting more vigorous. Look at that gigantic stairway. It is streaming with people. Who could they be? They are carrying display posters. Now I see. Those flags have their unmistakable look about them. They are Margis and Proutists and seem to be from West Bengal. There are as many women and children as men amongst them. They have come with their full families. They have umbrellas, water containers and provision bags on their persons. Their enthusiasm knows no bound.
The Patna railway station is now a sea of devotional humanity. The casual bystander is awe-struck. Patna city has changed and will never be the same as before. Ask any Patnaite. The only answer you will get is “Baba Nam Kevalam!”
B M Sinha
~ Above two stories courtesy of WhatsApp Forums ~
~ Above two stories courtesy of WhatsApp Forums ~
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I remember this very day. I was standing outside the Jail as Baba was to be released to see HIS FACE. HE came out and all the Margiis were standing in line at Jail gate. All were very joyful. All Margiis run till Pataliputra colony Baba residence following HIS car.
I am sure that long I have never run in my life.
Oh it is hard to write such feelings. I consider myself lucky to have become a part of history of that moment.
Baba nam kevalam
By Ac Dileep Sagar
~ Above story courtesy of WhatsApp Forums ~
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