Reference: posted by: vejeestu to Kirpal Singh Satsang Club; Message number 237
In 1986 Darshan Singh stayed at Murietta Hot Springs. During part of this time I was attached to one of the secretaries of the organization who was suffering health problems. My job was merely to accompany this person in their travels with the Master during his stay. One day the Master left Murietta for activities in LA, a public talk and visits to several private homes. Upon his eventual return there was a flurry of activites at Murietta. I know that there was no way, other then while travelling by car from point to point, for any rest whatsoever for a period of thirty six hours at least, perhaps twenty hours.
I was in close proximity with him from an afternoon through the entire night and throughout the next day and on to the following evening. His activity was constant. Finally, physically wasted, I was able to lie down in the early morning hours.
An hour later there is a knock on my door. "Master wants to see you, bring your homeopathy books." I drag myself back to this world, take my brief case and go to his door.
I am ushered in and sit on the floor at the foot of his bed, where he is sitting cross-legged eating small pieces of watermelon with a spoon. He briefly regards me, yet it as if from a great distance. He is deeply, deeply inside himself.
We are alone except for the occasional entries of Mr. Jain, his aide. No words are passed and there is no greeting. With a spoon he takes a bite of the watermelon. His eyes roll up as the food enters his mouth. He begins to slide forward, leaning on his left hand to hold himself up. His hand slides forward. He is gone. A long moment of stillness. Then he starts to rise up, again he takes a bite, his eyes disappear, his head and body gently fall forward. Several times his turban almost touches the bed. He goes through two bowls of watermelon in this way.
Finally, after the last bowl, he begins rubbing his fingers together and literally humming to himself, an atonal noise. Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. It seems to me he is trying to bring himself back. He casts a glance my way, still deeply distant. Gradually, he moves himself around on the bed until he is just in facing me, and moving himself towards the bottom of the bed.
From a great distance he asks about a health issue
relating to someone. It takes all of my skills of reading and receiving to understand what he is saying. I tell him my thoughts. We talk, his words very slow, only modestly distinct, for perhaps five minutes. He then calls Mr. Jain and says some words. After a moment Jain returns with a basket of packages of sugar and rice puffs.Master gives me bags, for me, for my kids, for their mom and more to boot. I'm filling my briefcase.
He then leans forward and lovingly stroked me once across the top of my head and sent me on my way.
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