Volume 1 : Issue 2
ISSN: 2454-9495
THE SONG OF THE ROAD: A JOURNEY TO MEHERABAD
Around 117 kilometers from Pune is the city of Ahmednagar often referred to as Nagar by the local inhabitants. Nagar is home to the shrine of Avatar Meherbaba. Popularly named after him, this is a destination for pilgrims who call themselves Baba lovers, making their way from across the world to pay homage and spend time in the serenity of Meherabad. Meher Baba (25 February 1894 – 31 January 1969), born as Merwan Sheriar Irani, was an Indian spiritual master. Born in Pune, India to Zoroastrian parents he is said to have begun a seven-year spiritual transformation at the age of nineteen. During this time he was in close contact with five spiritual masters, before him. He began on his own mission as a spiritual master and had his own disciples in early 1922, at the age of 27. From 10th July 1925 till the end of his life, Meher Baba maintained silence, communicating by means of an alphabet board or by unique and gestures. With his mandali (circle of disciples), he spent long periods in seclusion, during which time he often fasted. He also traveled widely, held public gatherings and engaged in works of charity with lepers, the poor and the mentally ill.
This was my first visit to this place on a weekend escorted by a dear friend who had introduced me to the life and works of Meherbaba. She had also described the beauty and serenity of the place. This was where she would always go to gather herself , whenever she was in search of solitude. I imagined this weekend getaway as a perfect destination after a week-long hectic schedule of seminars and teaching. So there we were at the Shivajinagar bus depot where we had plenty of buses to choose from. There were buses going to Nagar, to Aurangabad with a stop at
Nagar, as well as the state transport and Volvo buses. So we boarded an Aurangabad bound bus and started our journey at around 8.30 am, one winter morning.
We reached Nagar in little more than two hours’ time. From the moment I got down at the stop, I was sure that there was something distinctly different, about this place. The auto rickshaw man knew about all the formalities and so did my friend.
The rickshaw took a long detour away from the city to a pleasantly green stretch of land and moved amidst large stretches of fallow lands with some tiny settlements here and there to reach us to the older office of the Meherbaba Trust. This beautiful building in the colonial style had something quaint about it. We stepped into the office and were warmly greeted with ‘Jai Baba’!
Since I was visiting for the first time I had to put in my name and contact details for future reference. When I was doing so, I was surprised at the way in which the people there remembered when my friend had visited last. They addressed her by her first name and welcomed me with the same warmth.
I quickly went around this beautiful quaint building and clicked some pictures as my friend said that we may not have the time to come back to this place again in our two days stay. The auto rickshaw waiting outside all this while, now took us to the heart of the village, further away from locality and settlement to the retreat, where our rooms had been booked.
This retreat was constructed to accommodate followers, pilgrims and visitors whose numbers were growing increasingly. Though new, and much larger than the one which now houses the office alone, this place was beautiful architecturally and there was something about the spirit of the place. The passageways, long corridors, the dormitories, the landscaped gardens, the community dining space or the library and the music room – everything seemed perfect to those who were in quest of solitude.
This serene ashram was rather close to Meherbaba’s Samadhi, the place where Baba’s body rests. The walk down the village roads was amazing. One could easily get lost gazing at the vast stretches of empty land, the unkempt beauty of Nature. Where do we get such luxuries in cities?
We chanced upon an interesting art work on the way… and look what we found. It deftly guided the way to Baba’s Samadhi! As I heard from Baba lovers later…no one gets lost here…Baba always showed the way…
We reached Baba’s Samadhi after a good fifteen minutes’ walk. The place had some indescribable positive energy about it. There was nothing elaborate. Just a humble structure to house Baba’s body, flanked by those of his beloved disciples and some immediate family members. I was amazed at the way this place was unlike any of the holy places I had visited.
There were visitors in large numbers. But there was no pushing or shoving, no sense of hurry. People would stand in the queue and in their own turn pay homage at Baba’s shrine and leave.
They would be given prasadam on their way out. This was an assortment of whatever was offered to Baba by the devotees or visitors. The prasadam could range from chocolates, to biscuits, or anything that you wanted to offer. I even saw someone offering chhikis and bakery products. There was no priest or mediator to snatch your offerings and ask you to hurry up. You carried your offerings…touched it to Baba’s shrine and that became the prasadam which you could keep to yourself or offer to be distributed there.
The courtyard in front of Baba’s shrine was the place where the devotees gathered to sing songs. Every day during the prayer time, devotees from various religious and linguistic background, placed their song offerings to Baba. I realized the positive energy this place generated had much to do with this devotional music. Music from different lands, in different tongues, all were acceptable. This was a true instance of cultural meet. The tower of Babel here was one where each understood the other’s language, for it was the language of love and compassion, of music
and celebration.
Baba’s devotees are spread all across the globe. Some of them have left their homes and travelled half the world to be here. They have left their professions to join hands in service of spreading what they call Baba’s message of love. It is amazing to even imagine how so many of them could give up their lives of comfort and permanence for this way of living. But as all of them would tell you…”If Baba calls, you have to answer…you have no choice.”
Serene and refreshing as the long walks around Meherabad was, it left a deep impression on my mind. While I kept returning to the fact that it was not rational to leave one’s profession, job and home, what the Baba lovers had to say, kept coming back to me as a refrain – “If Baba calls you to his home, you have no choice but respond to his love.”