Babaji - Gateway to the Light. Gertraud Reichel
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The book
Inspired by his dreams, a young Indian went searching for and found a sadhu "of perfect beauty" sitting in deep absorption, in a cave in the Himalayas. It was June, 1970 and the young sadhu soon revealed himself to be the incarnation of the legendary Babaji, a great saint of the Himalayas, famous in the nineteenth century, whose recent advent had been prophesised. In the years thereafter, Babaji lived and taught at the ashram in the north-Indian village of Haidakhan until, as he himself said, "he had fulfilled his task", and voluntarily left his body in February 1984. This book is about marvellous, multifaceted everyday life in the presence of Babaji, both in Haidakhan and on tour, as experienced by visitors and devotees, and in particular by the author. Drawing from her many visits during the years 1979 - 1984, she intimately describes her own personal experiences with Babaji at his ashram and when she had the privilege to accompany him on tour through various parts of India.
The author
Gertraud Reichel, lived with her husband for several years in Cairo, Egypt, and in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, where she received her master's degree in linguistics. After the encounter with the famous Master Babaji in 1979 in India, she founded the G. Reichel Verlag, which published the first books about this master. Since then, the publishing house has grown steadily with the aim to impart knowledge. She currently lives in Bavaria and has two children.
Gertraud Reichel
Babaji - Gateway to the Light
Experiences with the Great Immortal Master
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 2 - Looking Back - Puri
Chapter 4 - The Decision and the Responsibility
Chapter 7 - Last Weeks with Babaji
Babaji
Introduction
"I have come to give.
Are you ready to receive?"
Babaji
Whenever planet Earth faces great upheavals, Immortals and enlightened Masters intervene in humankind's destiny, to warn people of forthcoming changes and to protect and guide them towards a higher consciousness. This was Babaji's service from 1970 to 1984, when he appeared in physical form and gave guidance and instruction to all those who approached him or listened to his call.
Babaji's power was such that he could easily attend to the various needs of his many disciples all at once and on all levels of their awareness. Therefore each one, present with him at a particular scene or situation, would be experiencing quite a different "reality" in the same moment. The experiences described in this book need to be understood in this context. Babaji was "dancing" with me, but at the same time he was "dancing" with many others, very much like Krishna and his 16000 gopis (herdswomen), each of whom was under the impression that he danced only with her.
This book has been written for all those who did not experience Babaji in person, but who nevertheless feel attracted to him as the Universal Master; and also for those who were close to him, for they may remember once more some of their own adventures and experiences.
May all readers feel his omnipresent love and his eternal protection: OM NAMAH SHIVAY.
Babaji
Chapter 1
Calcutta
"Are you happy?", Babaji asked.
I had the window-seat, one row behind him, on a plane bound for Calcutta. The events of the last few hours had left me speechless, so all I could do was nod.
"Are you happy?", he repeated. His black eyes smiled as the world disappeared before me. As if in a dream, I observed Babaji take my hand, ease it through the gap between the seat and wall-panel and lay it on his shoulder. Gently I began to stroke his upper arm. Time passed. Silence within and silence around me.
Following an impulse I said, "Baba, please give me the ability to hear your voice within."
He turned and voiced a clear and emphatic "Yes!", then took off his turban and handed it to me. I was to keep it on my lap during the flight. Outside, clouds upon clouds fleeted by.
Also accompanying Babaji on the flight were five Indians, two of them with their wives, and an American. Babaji had been invited by one of his Calcutta devotees, a wealthy businessman, to come and perform a twelve-day yagna, a Vedic fire ritual, and after that to lead a pilgrimage to Puri. Anyone accompanying Babaji would be welcome.
Sitting there behind Babaji, my thoughts turned to the events of the previous day.
I had arrived in Delhi, following a decision which had not been easy to make. To travel to India a week earlier than originally planned meant I had to entrust the care of my two children to our young lodger during the day while my husband was away at work. I wasn't used to this. On the other hand, the possibility of being in the presence of Babaji longer proved too tempting to resist. Besides, the whole family would be joining me from Germany within a fortnight anyway.
Shortly some friends phoned at my hotel to say that Babaji was staying in Delhi and would fly to Calcutta the next day. They also warned me of the futility in asking for a seat on that plane. The Asian Gaines were finishing and millions would be trying to quit the city by all possible means.
A little later some devotees came by to pick me up and we set off for Janakpuri, where Babaji was staying. Delhi at eight o'clock in the morning and already teeming with people - the journey seemed endless. At long last we caught sight of the festive marquee specially erected for Babaji's visit and I slipped off my shoes to enter. Flower garlands everywhere and a mingling of fragrances that was overwhelming. I joined the long queue waiting to greet Babaji.
He was sitting slightly elevated watching over the crowd. His garments were a silky white, deepening the blackness of his shiny, curly hair. There was no mistaking it - his round face radiated infinite kindness and love.