Pilgrimage to India :: Part I

Pilgrimage to India

November 2007

by Laurent Weichberger

 
Before

In November I planned to visit India with my dear mother, Anne, and sister, Sarah. It would be their first trip to India, while I started going there in 1988, and "know the ropes" already to some extent. I was set to fly on Monday, November 19 from Flagstaff.

 In preparation for this visit, I wrote a new version of a chapter for our new book project, Celebrating Divine Presence (London: Companion Books, 2008), so that I could lay the printed chapter at my Beloved Master's feet in his tomb at Meherabad, India, a small village he founded near Pune, in Maharashtra state. Shortly after finishing the draft chapter I had a dream which inspired me to write another chapter, so I brought both with me.

 Also, on November 3, I had a gathering of the contributing authors of Beads on One String, and it was an extremely powerful meeting, during which I felt God's presence quite strongly. One of the group, a delightful Christian, wrote a card to me which I got just before heading off to Los Angeles for my flight to Germany, where I would continue to New Delhi. The card said, in part, "I really enjoyed the gathering of us on Saturday – lots of holy people."  She had joked that if some of her friends could see her participation at the gathering, they may think less of her, but here in this beautiful card (titled by her "Conversion" and with her original art work on the front of St. Francis holding out his hand to a leper), she was recognizing people of other faiths as "holy" which to me was a partial fulfillment of the work we had started as a multi-faith group. This to me was a perfect send off to India. Thank you.

 Monday

So, finally, Monday November 19 came, and I had not one or two, but four flights to make to reach India: Flagstaff > Phoenix > Los Angeles > Frankfurt, Germany > New Delhi, India.

 Everything was fine until I reached Frankfurt, where there was a few hour layover, at which point I was quite tired from the three flights of traveling.  So, I laid down a blanket (my friend Asher in Flagstaff had given me) on the airport floor at the gate for my next flight, and promptly fell asleep. I was awakened by a Sikh woman holding a baby girl, maybe 2 years old, and she said it was time to wake up, and pointed to the Lufthansa gate agent who was taking tickets, etc. Then she told me it was not her, but the baby girl who pointed to me saying, "we should wake him up." I took this as a sign that Baba (and perhaps the Archangel Raphael which Jody spoke to) was helping me in my travels J

Tuesday

So, I made my Frankfurt connection and arrived in Delhi alone. I had intended to reach India a day before my mother and sister, so that I could arrange everything at the hotel and find a car, and pick them up at the airport, having had a chance to relax first myself. I had a reservation at a "Bed & Breakfast" which appeared on a list my mother had sent me, as she was interested in such a B& B in India. I decided to check out a "gold standard" B&B before subjecting them to this experience, knowing that a good 5 Star hotel was the only safe bet in India. Even the idea of a B&B in India made me laugh. In any case, I found a taxi and headed for the B&B. Unfortunately I had a young driver who stopped about 15 times to ask directions from various people along the way as to how to find the B&B. Eventually, we did find it, when bleary eyed I saw a glimpse of the address on a tiny sign on a road we slowly traversed in the dim Delhi lighting of a distant suburb called "Civil Lines" (very Indian). I told the driver to stop, and jumped out of the taxi and said, "Flag Staff Rd." I found it. I had chosen the B&B because it was a gold one on Flag Staff Rd. and felt the coincidence was too good to pass up.

Wednesday

I slept there from about 3 am until 1:40 pm the next day (Wednesday). I had heard a strange phone ringing tone, twice, while sleeping, and thought half-presently, "What is that sound?" But ignored it and went back to sleep. Finally I got up and went out of my room, and found the owner sitting outside at a table, with a cell phone. He had been calling my room, which was the sound I had heard. He said he was calling to wake me up for breakfast, and that he had to leave soon for town, and wanted to make sure I was okay. I liked him. They had wanted to charge me for breakfast, but I explained that a B&B means that breakfast is included, so they dropped that charge (also very Indian).

The atmosphere was not gold, it was weird. There was a large clown doll hanging up on the wall in the courtyard outside my room, wrapped in clear plastic (to keep it nice) kind of looking down on me as I ate breakfast, a little horror-movie-ish, and some other plastic kids riding toys (think big-wheel) also wrapped in plastic. Then the owner's dog came into my room courtyard and tried to pee on the patio, but I scared him off in mid-pee. Weird. Definitely silver, or bronze, not gold. Anyway, no B&B for mom and sister.

The owner told me, "There is a park where you can walk nearby..." and gave me directions to the Nehru Park where I did have a great walk and saw a troop of monkeys which obviously lives there. The park is quite large, as when you are inside, you cannot see out to the surrounding city, which is the capital of India. It made me happy to see many generations of monkeys in the troop, including babies. From previous experiences I knew that they could be dangerous, and so I kept my distance and did not try to feed them.

After the walk I went to the five star hotel we had chosen for my mom and sister's first night in India, The Oberoi Hotel, ultra posh. More like seven star, and seven star pricing too. I was obviously underdressed, but so what. I got there at a perfect time, and took a self-guided tour of the place. Let's just say it is one of the nicest hotels I have ever been in, period, East or West. If you didn't know you were in New Delhi, you could have been anywhere. I even found a bakery which sold brie cheese, croissants and served a real latte, yum.  I boxed the croissants and brie for later, in case we wanted to eat them at strange hours (jet lag has its ways).

After stashing the food and my knapsack in the room, I went out to the International Airport with a driver in a hotel car (for which they waived the expensive fee, probably upon seeing my poor attire). The flight from Chicago bearing my kin was delayed, so I had some time to kill. I decided to buy them each a fake flower garland, after all how many times do you make your first trip to India? And then as I continued to wait, I got hungry and tired, so I found a stall that sold "Nescafe" and a veggie-roll-thing (think Knish with spiced vegetables).

In the back of my mind, since arriving in India, I couldn't help but feel, "Oh Baba, all I want to do is come down from Delhi to you, but here I am waiting for them to come and then we plan to see the Taj Mahal, and other things, and I have to wait until Saturday..." My ongoing feeling of wanting to be just with Meher Baba at Meherabad, but agreeing to show them some great sights first...

As I ordered and waited on the line to pay, a man directly in front of me had his shoulder partially blocking my vision of a sign on the back wall of the stall which I was drawn to read.

In its partial state I read,

"Management is not

 responsible for your

    longings."

When he paid and moved away, I saw the "be" and laughed. Baba was teasing me, and I felt his presence and love with me, guiding me.

Mom and sister arrived, and I garlanded them as they emerged from the immigration section. We soon were off in the hotel car to the many starred hotel and relatively early to sleep.

Thursday

Now, I knew that they wanted to see the Taj Mahal, in Agra, many hours of driving south... and that we had from Thursday until our flight Saturday down to Pune to accomplish that. So, when I woke up (jet lag) at some ungodly hour, and knew they needed to sleep, I went down to the Business Center and started to research ways to get to the Taj Mahal. I found a tour company that had a bus trip there, and called them. I made a reservation to join their trip which left at 7am that morning. The alternative meant we would get dangerously tight in our travel back and forth, if they wanted to see lots of things... in any case, I booked us three for that bus. Then I asked the hotel front desk how much it would cost to have a hotel car take us there, and it was about four times more expensive. Okay, definitely the bus.

So, they slept on, and as 7am neared I decided to wake them and tell them that we are leaving for the Taj Mahal now. It was madness getting them up and down to the lobby by 7am, but we managed to get everyone down there, with all our bags, and one of them showered, and sister grabbing some buffet breakfast goodies, but about 7:20am, and the "bus" was basically a van, with a couple from Wales patiently waiting for the tardy Americans.  Now we were off to Agra.

The trip from Delhi to Agra was a bit of a culture shock for mom and sister, as they saw for the first time India in daylight. They can share about that, I just enjoyed the ride, and prepared to show them the Taj. We stopped for lunch at about the half-way point at a fine hotel, and continued on, arriving at Agra around 2 pm. Gasoline vehicles are not permitted near the Taj, to keep it clean, so we took a camel cart the final distance to the front entrance. We all liked the camel cart, and then we were given a guided tour (part of the price we paid) and a good time was had by all. Amazingly, afterward, we made the entire journey back to Delhi, arriving quite late. Not wanting to spend the money on the Oberoi again, we took a room at a fewer star hotel, but a nice one, called Icon Towers. This was arranged by a Delhi Baba-lover, Priti, who had found out I was coming to Delhi and emailed me that I should contact her. When she found out we had no place to stay upon returning to Delhi she made this arrangement for us. What an angel.

We found out that the Taj is actually closed Friday, so that was the only day we could've gone, as we had to fly on Sat. from Delhi, so... perfect. We slept well at the new hotel.

Friday

Friday was set aside to see Delhi, and the one attraction I really wanted to get them to was the Qutub Minar, a giant Muslim tower built in a special park. It was also my sister, Sarah's birthday, and we decided to celebrate by going out to a nice breakfast at the Hyatt, before seeing the Minar... We got a driver from the hotel, named Hardeep, and he had a sort of mini-van for us to ride in... we had our gourmet five star breakfast (along with candle-in-a-pastry and singing) and set off for the Qutub Minar. Mom and sister wanted to visit a tailor as well, so we told Hardeep about this. He said the tailor is on the way to the Minar, so we went to the tailor first. After much shopping for clothes, we finally found the Minar, and enjoyed the ancient park and ruins there. I purchased a book about that place, and read parts of it as we walked around the special points of interest there. The Minar itself is the highest point in Delhi, and built in different stages, a true Muslim monument. Meher Baba himself took people to visit the Qutub Minar, and even climbed its inner stairs to the top. The stairs are now closed.

After that, the ladies wanted to get some food and drink so we told Hardeep this and having a decent command of English, he took us to a sort of three-star restaurant back at that Nehru Park, where I had walked with monkeys. I hadn't seen the restaurant, but the park was recognizable. I told the restaurant owner that it was my sister's birthday, and when we ordered chai for everyone after the lunch, he arranged for an entire cake to be brought to our table (very Indian), with candles. When we saw the cake, Sarah blew out her candles and we told them to tell our driver, Hardeep, to please come inside and join us. Then we cut the cake, for Sarah, and us, and pieces for Hardeep, and the owner and staff of the restaurant, and still there was more cake leftover.  After eating his piece of cake, and while sipping chai, Hardeep went into convulsions, like a seizure, and he fell first forward and then sideways onto me, who sat next to him on his left side. He lost total control of his body, and being a large young man, I had to help him to the floor. The owner brought a pillow and put it under his head, and we could only watch as his body contorted due to the convulsive seizure. His mouth started to froth, so I turned his head to one side, to allow it to drain, as he was basically on his back, and then being strong I turned his whole body sideways, so that he could be more comfortable, laying entirely sideways, and I started to repeat Meher Baba's name in a whisper.

After some minutes, he slowly came back to himself, and was tremendously disoriented. At first he wanted to stand, so we helped him to stand up, but then he didn't want to move, and just leaned against the table, and didn't want to move at all, just half-leaning half-standing, looking distant and he started to cry and moan, a deep hoarse grieving moan. I tried to lead him out of the restaurant, but he refused to move. So I left him there, and went outside with mom and sister. We knew he couldn't drive, in fact, if this seizure had occurred while driving us around Delhi we could all be dead. Our belongings were locked in his van, and he was leaving the restaurant. I told them to get back to the hotel and that I would make sure Hardeep was okay, and pay him for his driving us that day, and meet them back at the hotel. They didn't like the idea but agreed.  Before long, though, Hardeep was coming down the stairs, out of the restaurant. The owner spoke to him in Hindi, and assured us all would be well. He arranged for his own son to drive us back to the hotel, and then decided we should all go back together. Hardeep came to slowly, and responded to the owner, and was in somewhat of disbelief about the seizure episode, saying it had never happened before. That it happened in the restaurant, I felt, was Baba's Grace. The owner was also clearly a man of God, and made this know to me. Wow.

I paid Hardeep more than we agreed upon, and hugged him, and we said goodbye with tears in our eyes. We drove with the owner to our hotel, and finally rest before heading down to Pune.

Saturday

This day had been set aside to fly from Delhi to Pune, where Baba was born, and then on to Meherabad, where his Universal Spiritual Centre at Meherabad was established by him in the 1920s. My mother, Anne, has a spiritual connection with Qutub Hazrat Babajan, Meher Baba's first Spiritual Master, and her tomb is in Pune under the Neem tree which she lived (she was homeless). I knew that I must bring her to Babajan's tomb before we proceeded to see Him at Meherabad. Baba's family home is also in Pune, so we went there first (they have visiting hours). My sister particularly liked the case in Baba's room that had his personal items including, "Baba's favorite marble."

Then we went on to Babajan. Since I first visited her tomb in 1988, there has been a dramatic shift in that the tomb keepers are Muslim, and while they used to keep Baba's photo there, they no longer seem to do that. Also, they opened a sort of Muslim library next door to her tomb. We purchased a cheap garland and some incense and mother and sister garlanded her tomb, gave the incense to the tomb keeper, we all bowed to her and we left.

This post is continued in Part II :: see above on this page.