Chapter 29: Session 29
I traveled many places with Pagal Baba. He took me not only to great artists and musicians, but also to the great places. It was with him that I saw first the Taj Mahal, and the caves of Ellora and Ajanta. He was the man with whom I first saw the Himalayas. I owe him too much, and I have never even thanked him. I could not because he used to touch my feet. If I would ever say anything to him in thanks, he would immediately put his hand to his lips and say, “Just be quiet. Never mention your thankfulness. I am thankful to you, not you to me.”
One night when we were alone I asked him, “Why are you thankful to me? I have not done anything for you, and you have done many things for me, yet you don’t even allow me to say thank you.”
He said, “One day you will understand, but right now go to sleep and don’t mention it again at all, never, never. When the time comes you will know.” By the time I came to know it was too late, he was no more. I came to know, but too late.
If he had been alive perhaps it would have been too difficult for him to realize that I had come to know that once, in a past life, he had poisoned me. Although I had survived, he was now just trying to compensate; he was trying to efface it. He was doing everything in his power to be good to me - and he was always good to me, more than I ever deserved - but now I know why: he was trying to bring balance.
In the East they call it karma, the “theory of action”: whatever you do, remember, you will have to bring a balance again to things disturbed by your action. Now I know why he was so good to a child. He was trying, and he succeeded, to bring about balance. Once your actions are totally balanced you can then disappear. Only then can you stop the wheel. In fact, the wheel stops by itself. You don’t even have to stop it.