ISBN 2-902776-33-0
What do you have to tell me?
You gave me a "new creation" [tuberose] the other day,
through Sujata....
It's for you.
Does that mean that....
Yes.
Something is going to come?
It means you haven't finished! (Laughing) You haven't finished writing! [[Alas, Satprem's next book will be the trilogy on Mother, in 1975. ]]
(Mother gazes long at Satprem,
then goes within)
Something to ask?
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No, but what about you, Mother?
Anything to say?
No, Mother....
(silence)
I had the rather strong impression several days ago that we are
full of phantoms, I mean there really aren't any difficulties or
problems or resistance or anything of the sort, but there are
lots of phantoms and old things, and it is simply our memory
of them that pulls us.
Yes, it's true! It's true, I've had the same experience. It's we who create (we, I mean all human beings), who create the problems.
And then there's the memory. The real nuisance is the memory -- the memory
of a lot of old things -- which perpetuates the old
influence; but in reality there is nothing -- only the memory of
it.
Yes, yes, exactly. It's quite true.
(Mother goes within)
Do you have anything to ask?
No. How are things?
What things?
Well, the world and you.
Bah!... Everything is like this (hanging gesture), everything. They're ready to fight up there [on the borders of India and Bangladesh], and they're forever waiting to be told to fight. The armies are ready, everything is ready and they're waiting. Everything is like this (same gesture).
What are they waiting for?
For the government to give the order.
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But the government won't budge!
Oh, yes (Mother smiles), it will. It will be forced to move. But it's resisting.
Someone came here from the government, sent by a "commission," and through him the General in command of the armies has communicated with me, and he asked for my blessings. They are all ready. They're waiting -- they are told tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, always tomorrow. I have news from up there.
(silence)
A few days ago, in sleep, I saw Indira Gandhi. She seemed to
be here and was trying to convince us of something; what par
ticularly struck me is that everything she was saying was on a
very ordinary level, and she looked very pale.
She is easily influenced, you know. So there are ... (gesture of tugging).
Indeed, she has not accepted your influence alone.
No, she's taken it and mixed it with others. That's why things go like this (gesture of jumbled confusion).
(Mother goes within for a long time)
We are in full transition: it is no longer this, it is not yet that. And the concentration of force is greater and greater.
(silence)
A strange experience. It's a strange experience. The body feels it no longer belongs to the old way of being, but it knows that it is not yet in the new one and that it is.... It is no longer mortal and it is not yet immortal. It's quite strange. Very strange. And sometimes I go from the most dreadful discomfort to ... a marvel -- it's strange. An unutterable bliss. It's no longer this, and it's not yet that. Well. Bizarre (Mother nods her head).
(silence)
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There is a sort of promise of an overwhelming Power, and at the same time signs of such weakness -- not weakness: disorganization. Disorganization, and at the same time the sense of an overwhelming Power. So the two are like this (gesture of being in a precarious balance). It's a disorganization in the sense that if I don't pay attention, I can't eat, for instance. I have to pay attention, I have to be concentrated all the time, concentrated in order to do things. Sometimes, not a word in my head, nothing; sometimes I see and know what is happening everywhere.
It's like this (same gesture as on a ridge).
I have to be careful when I am with people, otherwise they would think I am going crazy! (laughter)
It's really peculiar. A sort of total impotence and an overwhelming power side by side. And the results of the overwhelming power are sometimes visible in people here and there: all of a sudden, miraculous things happen. But at the same time ... sometimes I can't even eat. It's strange. (Mother laughs)
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