January 29, 1972
(Mother listens to Satprem read a letter from Msgr. R., the
friend of P.L., who is intently turning to Mother to start a new
life. Mother concentrates on him for a quarter of an hour.)
Is he ill?
He had several very serious operations in a row, and I think he
had a lung removed in the last one.
Ooh!
He’s a man who has been severely stricken. He went through a
record number of operations.
What’s the time difference between here and France?
Five or five and a half hours.
Which means?
Which means, it is now five-thirty or six in the morning there.
Note the time it is now.
It’s eleven o’clock.
Could you ask him if…. What’s the date today?
The 29th.
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Ask him whether on the 29th at eleven o’clock (put it in local time there) he felt something. And if he did feel something – whatever it is, an impression (I don’t want to define it), something, a Force, some phenomenon – if he felt something at that hour, we could agree on a particular day and time, and try: I would do a special concentration on him. If he could send a photo, it would be easier. That’s all I can do. Send it registered.
(silence)
It would be better if he set a time when he can be free and quiet a little.
(silence)
What did I say to ask him?
First, if he felt something …
Better not say "felt": ask whether he was CONSCIOUS of something – because "felt" may suggest a vital or physical sensation – if he was conscious of something.
(Mother plunges in till the end,
then Sujata approaches her)
Mother, I would like to tell you about a rather strange
occurrence. The night before last, independently, Satprem, F.
and I had similar dreams.
Ah! And what was it.)
Violent attacks.
By whom?
I don’t know, Mother. As for me, I was in a large group of
Ashram people, and we were about to be executed. But I had a
tremendous faith: "It’s not possible," I thought, "a miracle is
bound to happen at the last minute …"
Yes.
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"… and stop this." I was saying this to someone who was
greatly worried and depressed …
Who?
I can’t say. I don’t remember. Someone who was also going to
be executed. There were also many children. Then I heard a
sort of great chant (many people were gathered there, it was
time for the execution), like a mantra rising up from each of
us, like this: OM Namo Bhagavate Sri Arabindaye.
Ah!
And everybody was chanting it – everybody was chanting. And the threat withdrew.
Who else had this dream?
Satprem saw himself heavily attacked by bombs and grenades.
[[He was running in a sort of mobile darkness shot with pale milky-white streaks of light, through which he was escaping. ]] F.’s dream: she was trying to see you, but she was locked in a
room. She wanted to feed you, and she was told, "No, no,
Mother doesn’t eat." She knew it was a lie, but she was denied
access to you.
When was that?
Not last night, but the night before.
Yes, yes.
Your dream was the most complete of the three.
And you saw that the attack was averted.
Yes, Mother, it went away because we were chanting Sri
Aurobindo’s name. [Sujata sings:] OM Namo Bhagavate Sri
Arabindaye….
Yes, exactly. Exactly. But it’s true, mon petit! … That was good.
Were we attacked?
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Not physically, of course.
It’s good – very good. It’s true. It was the night before last.
Personally, I repeated the mantra all night long.
It’s good, mon petit.
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