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176 SPIRIT AND THE MIND
and the food palatable to the Westerner. As we walked through the front lobby toward the reception desk, we were startled by a tremendous crash. Turning in its direction, we saw that a large light fixture had just fallen from the 40-foot ceiling, crashing down on the very spot we had just passed seconds before. We all gave a slight shudder, and I—now getting the hang of this drama—piped up: “And that’s the second auspicious sign today!” By this time, my receptive and open traveling companions had sized me up: I was a raving religious fanatic.
Still, they gave me their undivided attention and tried whatever I suggested. I asked the ladies to wear saris. Although they had no familiarity with Indian dress and didn’t know how to wind themselves into the 18 feet of cloth, they willingly accompanied me to a store and bought the material, then good-naturedly allowed the lady desk receptionist to wrap them from head to toe.
It was now about noon. We planned to rest for a few hours and then take a taxi the twelve miles to Brindavan, the site of Sai Baba’s Science and Arts College for Men, where he was residing at this time. He would be coming out for darshan—to walk among the people, letting them see him and taking their notes asking for his help. We were all excited about this first contact. Unfortunately, N.S. developed severe abdominal cramps and would have to stay back with hopes of feeling better the next day. Before leaving for darshan, we received the happy news that the luggage had been found— retrieved from its extended journey to a remote mountain town.
As we entered the grounds I saw that the crowd was larger than usual. The men and women sat separately, so we pointed B.J. in the right direction, bid her adieu, then found seats for ourselves. It wasn’t long before a hush came over the crowd and all eyes turned in the direction of Baba’s residence. Out he came, looking startlingly beautiful. He walked like a soft breeze, seeming to float gently over the earth, out toward the middle of the grounds, and then paused for a moment. Turning in our direction, he made his first contact with the crowd right in front of us. As he approached, his eyes caught mine and he smiled. Motioning me to rise and come closer, he said, “How many psychiatrists?”
I rose a bit timidly, thinking, “Oh, my, I’ve done it now. Last time I saw Baba I said perhaps a hundred—and only two are sitting