September 24, 2010
Last night my dear friend Nirodbaran came to me many times in dream. I cannot clearly recall each time he came but the experiences were so strong that I was awakened immediately and heard myself saying, 'Ah, Nirod da, so very happy to see him and remembering how he would joke with me when I went to meet him in his room to talk or share tea.
He would say to the others gathered there, "I am Nirod and this is Narod!" (the Bengali pronunciation!) I recall his appreciation of my poem on Mary Helen, When Transformation Flowers Fell, reading it over many times and saying, Very good, very good.
We would also meet in Golconde when around the age of 100, he would walk from his room in the Ashram and suddenly appear in Tehmi's room to pay her and all of us a visit and join us in satsang. When he left her room Krishnaprem would take one arm and I the other and help him down the stairs and then he would walk back to his room. Fortunately, a few photos of those days have been preserved.
But I have digressed. In one of last night's experiences he was speaking to me and holding my hand. Though I can only remember the drift of the conversation, he was lying on a cot-like bed and was to be taken some place. He asked me to accompany him and be on guard for him. In another sequence I clearly remember in the mind's eye, but even more so in the heart, Dolly in a small child-like body nestled against his chest, serene and protected.
In life I always saw Nirod as a great, powerful and silent samurai or the firm yet gentle leader of a great nation.