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Magnificent Sari

Thursday April 21 2005 09:32 IST

By Karmayogi

Getting down from the plane and walking into the airport, someone found a sea of smiles greeting her and discovered her life magnificent. In the hundred previous trips she had passed through Frankfurt airport, this was not her experience. People turned around, looked at her and smiled. Some came to her and greeted her for her lovely appearance.

She felt she was carried on by a vibration of universal love. She had read the spiritual experiences of Mother when Love descended on earth through Her. Having come on a commercial trip, a doubt arose in her human heart whether it was that vibration of Pure Love, as hers had been a pilgrimage to the sacred spot where Love incarnate had lived. Ostensibly, it was commerce that had brought her to India.

People in a German airport are not known for their excessive friendliness. What had happened to her or whether something had happened to the entire wave of air passengers? Life had become one big stable SMILE for her ever since she had put on that magnificent sari in Madras.

Inwardly, she was happy about the new saratorial experience, as it was the first time she had worn a sari. An Indian friend, a commercial customer, had presented her, a Dutch lady, this sari and helped her to dress in it. She knew of the Spirit and that knowledge had brought her to India 15 years ago.

Pondicherry was a contrast to Amsterdam where she lived. There was no noise in Amsterdam, nor was dirt or filth seen on the road. Power cut was an unknown phenomenon. People walked briskly, minding their own work. They were not unfriendly, but there was no caressing sweetness in the air. She was a successful entrepreneur working mostly in sales.

She had given up her typing job in a multinational company to sell Indian handmade products. A colleague who had been in India brought her the Spirit in the shape of the Divine Mother and Sri Aurobindo. She knew her friend was happier than others.

It was with him that she had come to India 15 years ago. Getting on the plane at Amsterdam, her heart was light, losing its normal human heaviness.

Getting down in Madras airport, she wondered whether it was Pondicherry, as she knew the spiritual atmosphere of love and joy there extended to 7 miles during the days of the Master and the Mother. Now she felt it in Madras, having tasted it in the airspace of India when her plane entered over Indian soil.

A year ago, a mere accident had brought her again to Pondicherry and renewed her true inner joy of the touch of the Spirit. The smiling ocean of people stirring up the springs of affection deeply seated in her heart dwarfed all earlier experiences of expansiveness.

She was sure it was spiritual good will in her rising to the human surface. Whether it is human or spiritual, it matters not, as long as it is this sweet. That smiling experience started in Madras and lasted until she reached her home in Amsterdam. It is Mothers Touch. The sari was the human occasion.

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