order to realise unity with God.
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Soon after arriving the first time in Haidakhan we were told that anyone who intended to spend more than three days at the Ashram would have to have a mundan. "We were not told about this before we left I said. "Well, things change fast round here", came the reply. Until then I was fairly open to the ideas of having my head shaved, but being forced to have it done was another matter. When I said that I might decide not to have a mundan, they said ominously: "We'll see about that". The following day the confrontation continued, and someone said I was taking myself too seriously. Even my wife, who had no intention of losing her hair, pointed out to me that I had so little left any way, it wasn't worth making such a fuss. I decided to leave it until Babaji returned to the Ashram. After all. He was the only real authority.
In another couple of days it happened. We heard the noise of the excited crowd below as He approached, and I remember looking down to the river-bed to get my first glimpse of Him. That evening after Aarati I stood in line anonymous among Western and Indian devotees to meet Him. When my turn came Babaji greeted me cheerily: "Here comes a very good man from England!" I smiled at this joking reference to my surname (Goodman) and wondered about His knowledge of me. My wonder increased the next day when He placed His hand on my forehead. It was like being totally known and totally accepted at the same time. I was also impressed by His gentleness, and with His hand only inches from my hair I knew He would never force me to have my head shaved.
As I became relaxed about the mundan, I began to hear all the good things about it. "It feels wonderful ... it cures disease ... it's like letting go of all of your life and ego ... it makes you feel free". Even so, there was no particular need anymore for me to do anything urgently.
A week later I was sitting on stone steps, looking across the river-bed, when Babaji passed by. He said something to me in a sing song voice that I did not understand. Someone interpreted: "He wants you to follow Him". I walked behind Babaji and in front of him was a small dog. Soon Babaji was imitating the dog's funny walk so that had to laugh. After a few moments the dog ran ahead. and Babaji called to a boy to bring it back. When the dog was returned. Babaji was crossing one of the planks that span the water. and suddenly the dog was thrown upstream. It paddled back to the plank and somehow managed awkwardly to pull itself up with its front paws. Babaji, now ahead on the path and without looking around, continued to imitate its every movement, shaking himself as the dog shook the water off. This was no longer just entertainment. It was as if Babaji had identified and merged with the dog and was sharing the dog's discomfort. My mind went back to the infant's school, and the time I played with letters D O G and made G O D. So Babaji was in the dog; and then I realized that Babaji was already in me when He passed me on the steps, for what He had shown me was something I needed to see, Babaji in everything.
Next day I had my hair cut - all of it. Someone said to my wife: "Have you seen your husband this morning? He has had his head shaved and he is smiling!"
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Through an acquaintance I got hold of the Fischer pocketbook "Botschaft vom Himalaya". I looked upon it as divine guidance to be properly put to use.
For decades I had searched for a path to bring me closer to God and the information contained in this book might well have been my saving grace. It soon even became possible for me to travel to India.
Many people had warned me against undertaking such a journey at the age of seventy and with difficulty in walking as well. The trek to the ashram was hazardous and no physical comforts were available there. Nevertheless, I wouldn't be deterred and anyhow, an easy path didn't fit my expectation of achieving the high goal of meeting Babaji.
Indeed, the journey turned out to be demanding and exhausting, though I was fortunate to be able to ride on horseback for the most difficult stretch up river. At last I saw the 108 stairs leading to the main ashram. How was I supposed to get up there?
Before attempting the climb, I bathed in the Gautama River and rested on the stony riverside. Then I set off, taking it slowly, and leaning heavily on my stick. I had barely managed a few steps before I needed to pause and rest ... and again ... and then again. So the climb continued on.
While resting on one of the steps, I took a look down over the valley and saw how the river flowed in various streams, meandering about the beautiful mountains. I inhaled the clear air and took in the quiet and the peace. It was then I thought I heard a noise somewhere behind me. I turned round and saw someone running lightly down the stairs ... it must be Babaji!
Straightening myself up and thrusting the stick forward, I managed to move up two steps and prostrated myself at His Feet. I felt His hands on my head and a wave of energy, of an intensity I had never felt before, tingled through my entire body. What rapture! Taking hold of my arm, Babaji pulled me up and passed a mala from around His neck to mine. Never will I forget His shining eyes, oceans of love, disclosing His Being to me.
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The yearning to meet a great Master has been awakened in me, both from reading a variety of literature and through meditation. Two high beings were of special interest to me - Babaji and Sai Baba. Sai Baba was known to openly perform miracles. I had read about both of them, but which one should I seek out?
Then I learnt that there was a Babaji ashram nearby (in Germany), so I paid a visit and heard many stories from people who had often made pilgrimages to Haidakhan.
Happy, but still in somewhat of a dilemma, I returned home. So where should I go? To Babaji or Sai Baba, whose miracles still fascinated me?
The following night. Babaji put an end to the dilemma. I dreamt I was in Haidakhan. Babaji was waiting for me, His arms stretched out to receive me. Astonishingly, He had hair like Sai Baba. He embraced me. So much love. I felt profoundly happy to be "home". I was with my Father.
When I awoke, I was peaceful. I knew now who my Master was. This dream was evidence that Babaji, too, worked miracles.
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One day I experienced Babaji full of mirth and frolic. As I bowed down before Him, He clapped a plastic bag over my head, bent over and exclaimed twice into my ear: "Buh ... buh", then leaned back and shook with laugher.
I remembered that "buh" was a Sanskrit word meaning "earth". It occurred to me that Babaji was referring to being caught up solely in the perspective of the material plane - the earth. He was reminding me of His point of view, where the earth was merely an amusing theatre, the one we take so seriously.
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During my first visit to Haidakhan I took special delight in watching Baba, escorted by a small band of devotees, going down to the river to bathe. Each evening I would proceed to a vantage point -- a bench in the upper ashram area -- and eagerly await the scene to be enacted. From this position I overlooked the whole valley stretching across to the other side where the nine temples basked in the glow of sunset and in front of them flowed the far-reaching streams of the Gautama Ganga River.
As the sun was setting, the small party appeared descending the stairs and moving towards the river. Babaji was holding His long staff. This picturesque sight of the little group passing over the stones, clad in bright and colourful robes, each time evoked the vision: "There goes Christ with His young ones".
In my childhood I had seen just such a picture in a religious book and now it was coming alive before my eyes.
One day at darshan a devotee presented Babaji with some photographs. Full of love, He looked at them one by one and then gave them away as gifts. To my great joy, I received one too. It happened
