I said, “It will be difficult for you to understand because you are neither. His very logic brings him to its very brink. I am illogical, not because I was born illogical – nobody is born illogical; I am illogical because I have seen the futility of logic. So I can go with him according to his logic and yet, at a certain point, go ahead of him and then he becomes afraid and stops. And that is keeping our friendship, because he knows he has to go beyond that point, and he knows nobody else who can be of any help to him. You all” – I meant the people of the town – “think that he is a help to me. You are wrong. You can ask him. I am a help to him.”
You will be surprised but one day a few people went to his house to inquire, “Is it true that this small boy is some sort of guide or help to you?”
He said, “Certainly. There is no doubt about it. Why have you come to ask me? Why don’t you ask him? – he lives next door to your house.”
The quality is very rare, and my grandmother was right when she said, “I am afraid that Shambhu Babu is going to be without a friend. And,” she said, “as far as you are concerned, my fears are there, but you are still young, perhaps you may find a few friends.”
Her insight was really so clear. You will be surprised to know that in my whole life I have not had any friend except for Shambhu Babu. If he had not been there I would never have known what it means to have a friend. Yes, I have had many acquaintances – in school, in college, at university; there were hundreds. You might have thought they were all friends, they may even have thought the same; but except for this man, I have not known a single person whom I could call a friend.
To be acquainted is very easy. Acquaintance is very ordinary, but friendship is not part of the ordinary world. You will be surprised to know that whenever I became ill – and I was eighty miles away from the town – I would immediately receive a phone call from Shambhu Babu, very much concerned.
He would ask, “Are you okay?”
I would say, “What’s the matter? Why are you so worried? You sound sick.”
He said, “I am not sick but I felt that you were, and now I know that you are. You cannot hide it from me.”
It happened many times. You will not believe it, but it was just for him that I had to take a private number. Of course there was a phone for my secretary to take care of all my arrangements around the country. But I had a secret, private phone just for Shambhu Babu, so that he could inquire if he felt concerned, even in the middle of the night. I even made it a point that if I was not in the house, perhaps traveling somewhere in India, and I was sick, I would phone him myself just to say, “Please don’t be worried because I am sick.” This is synchronicity.
Somehow a deep, deep connection existed. The day he died I went to him without hesitation. I did not even inquire. I simply drove to the town. I never liked that road, and I liked driving, but that road from Jabalpur to Gadarwara was really a sonofabitch! You will not find a worse road anywhere. Our road, connecting Lao Tzu House to Buddha Hall, is a superhighway by comparison. What do they call them in Germany? Autobahn?