ISBN 2-902776-33-0
(Mother gives Satprem a calendar notepad, then a felt pen.)
What color is it?
It's violet.
The violet of power.
(Mother looks in vain for a green pencil for Sujata
and finally gives her a blue one)
Do you have something?
(Mother goes into a long contemplation. Her breathing is better,
becomes peaceful, but now and then there are involuntary
movements of the left leg and the shoulders, especially the
right shoulder.)
Do you have anything?
Is there anything new?
(Mother shakes her head
and plunges in again)
Do you really have nothing to read me?
If you. like, I could read you my new book. ... [[On the Way to Supermanhood. ]] It will be reassu
ring because I don't know where I am going.
That's good. I'll be happy to hear it.
(Mother plunges in again)
It's all right (in an unconvinced tone). What time is it?
Quarter past eleven.
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(Mother looks a few times,
but goes away straight off)
So the next time, you'll bring your book.
***
(After Satprem's departure, Sujata tells Mother about young
women of her generation, who do not have the advantage of
being "close to Mother" or in the circle of "important persons,"
and who suffer from never seeing Mother. This was in fact -
which is why we record it - a very central problem at the Ashram:
a sort of dichotomy between the simple elements who washed the
dishes, stitched clothes or greased cars, and who were there sim
ply with their love for Mother, and the "leading" elements, who
increasingly revealed their ambitious and therefore warped nature.
Yet it was with that thick circle that Mother had to work almost
daily, and that is what made her difficulty, if not suffocation.
With Sujata, Mother agreed to receive in rotation a number
of those young and simple elements - unfortunately, that new
opening will soon be blocked by circumstances: a new serious
turning point in Mother's yoga, then other "impossibilities.")
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