Mr. Pant

Mr. Pant was a retired editor of a large newspaper in India. He was also a devotee of BabaJi. When BabaJi materialized and first appeared in that cave at the base of Mount Kailash in the foothills of the Himalayas in 1970, Mr. Pant was one of the journalists called to investigate the report.

Mr. Pant wrote about this miraculous "manifestation of Shiva." He was a witness as BabaJi sat for 45 days without eating, sleeping, (or going to the bathroom!). He reported on the "re-incarnated Herrekan Baba." He spread the word about this appearance of the "Yogi Christ of India," the "Immortal Yogi," the guru's guru spoken about in Yogananda's "Autobiography of a Yogi."

I was with BabaJi's at his ashram in Herrekan in 1980, and I met Mr. Pant at his home in Haldwani. BabaJi had sent me to him with instructions to "Rebirth Mr. Pant". One August morning Babaji gave me his name and told me to teach him Rebirthing. I left the ashram that day and headed into the city. Vinnay Shukla met me at Mot Pol's hotel and drove me to Mr. Pant's house on the back of his old Norton motorcycle.

The sky was decorated with beautiful clouds, the sweet smell of flowers and fruit was in the air. I closed my eyes and felt the wind on my face and listened to the sounds of the city as Vinnay bobbed and weaved thru cars and cattle, bicycles and street vendors. We coasted to a stop in front a lovely estate and Vinnay made himself comfortable under a tree while I made my way up the walk to the front door.

I rang the bell and Mr. Pant answered. He was a kindly gentleman, humble with bright eyes that had seen more than 70 years, but still held a youthful glint. I introduced myself and began to explain how I was living with BabaJi in Herrekan and that he had sent me.

But before I could finish my sentence, and at the mere mention of BabaJi's name, Mr. Pant was responding. With great excitement he took me by the arm, pulled me into the house and asked: "What does BabaJi want?"

I said, "Well, it's about Rebirthing, I teach something called Rebirthing, it's a breathing technique, and BabaJi said I should teach it to you."

"What shall I do?" he asked eagerly. "Where shall we do it? How do we begin?"

"Well, we need to find a place to lay on the floor or..." (Mr. Pant was practically laying down already!) "Wait, wait!" I said. "Maybe there is more comfortable place, perhaps we should use your bed."

"Good, come this way." And in that moment I was following the quick steps of this amazing devotee of BabaJi.

I had learned the magic words, "BabaJi said" on my first day at the Ashram. I learned that you could do anything, say anything, or go anywhere--break any rule. As long as you began a sentence with "BabaJi said," no one dared to question or interfere!

Anyway, I found myself in Mr. Pant's bedroom. It was bright and clean, and very simple with little furnishings other than a chair, a dresser, a small table and some plants by the window. I remember seeing tiny specks of dust swirling and glimmering in the sun's rays that were streaking through the window as we settled down to breathe.

I was feeling quite powerful, quite confident and unusually comfortable. I had an extremely willing student, I was on a mission from God, and I was a week into a series of miracles that would have left anyone high as a kite and in love with life!

I got comfortable on the floor beside the bed as Mr. Pant stretched out his slight supple body and settled onto his back. I gave him the usual instructions about the rebirthing breath. "Pull the inhale in actively, let the exhale out passively. Connect the breaths so that there are no pauses between the inhale and the exhale. Continue to breathe in a steady rhythm, and allow whatever happens to happen." I demonstrated the breathing rhythm, and he quickly caught on and took up the pace.

I sat back for a moment and looked around the room. I thought about how far away from home I was and yet how completely at home I felt. Mr. Pant was breathing along in a perfect rhythm. I wanted to give instructions, coach him or guide his breathing, but he was doing it like an expert. So I closed my eyes and took a few conscious breaths of my own. I enjoyed the feeling of expansion and the delightful sense of relaxation.

After a few moments, I focused my attention on Mr. Pant. (After all, I was supposed to be coaching his breathing!) When I observed the movement of his chest and belly, it struck me how truly graceful and beautiful his physical form was. His skin seemed to glow. His hair was soft and healthy. He was truly a beautiful man.

Then the strangest of thoughts and feelings came: I wanted to kiss his feet! I wondered where this weird idea, this strange urge was coming from. And then, out of nowhere, came an incredible sense of love. It was so powerful and so surprising. For a brief moment I tried to re-focus on my role as a breathing guide, but it was useless. I began to feel a tremendous urge to cry, to weep. It was uncontrollable and overwhelming. The feelings gushed out of me. I fell apart right there on the floor!

There was no way I could pay any attention to Mr. Pant. What was happening in me, the overwhelming catharsis, was too strong. I went into a spontaneous Rebirth. I was supposed to be rebirthing him, and instead I was rebirthing myself!

I gave up trying to "do" anything, or to "be" any certain way. My breath took off on its own, I lay back on the floor and was carried away by a river of energy. I fell into an ecstatic vibrating state. I surrendered gladly and completely. I don't know how much time passed. Probably only a few minutes, but life seemed timeless.

I turned my head back and forth feeling the lovely sense of easy movement in my neck. I played with my fingertips and toes and all my joints. My body felt so open and so flexible. I enjoyed all the places where my body made contact with the floor. I was thrilled by every point of contact between me and the floor, every fiber of the carpet beneath me, and every part of the world around me.

Soon those points of contact disappeared. Nothing stood out in the way of sensations. It reminded me of my earlier days floating in a sensory deprivation tank. There was no awareness of borders, of boundaries. I opened my eyes, and something was different. I couldn't figure out what it was. Something very unusual had happened to my reality.

And then it hit me: there were no shadows! I looked under the bed and there was no shadow! The sun was bright and its light came in through the window. I could see the rays shining on everything, but nothing was casting a shadow! There was no shadow under the bed, there was no shadow under the table. There were no shadows in the plants by the window. In fact, the leaves seemed to be casting their own light! There were no shadows on either side of my hand or arm as I moved it about in mind-stopping awe!

I leaned up and looked at Mr. Pant. He was radiant! He was aglow with soft white light! It was coming from his eyes, from his fingertips, from his face, his chest and belly, from every pore of his body, and from those feet I wanted to kiss!

In the next moment I was at his feet, embracing them. I was softly laughing, crying, gently breathing! Those feet were my infant son, my mother, my wife, my lover, my brother, my God! I was bathing in the light coming from his feet! Me, the guy who shook BabaJi's hand and gave him a bear hug when everyone else fell to his feet in devotion and homage!

I looked around through tear filled eyes. The light was coming from everywhere! It seemed to come out of the air itself! There was no single source of light anywhere, no direction to the light. There was nothing that was not light! Every point in space seemed to be a window open to a light from beyond! Eyes open, eyes closed: it made no difference. The light was in me!

I don't know how much time passed. Perhaps an hour or two. Gently rocking and swaying, as if floating in the ocean, as if supported on all sides by the air itself. My head resting on the bed at Mr. Pant's feet, I felt as if I was cradled in the arms of God. It was like some childhood fantasy or a religious dream had come alive. A feeling of endless causeless joy, of comfort, of peace and sweet endless pleasure... beyond understanding!

Then I found myself with one arm around the shoulder of Mr. Pant, and one arm around the shoulder of Vinnay. They were helping me out the door and down the walk toward Vinnay's motorcycle under the tree. The last thing I remember, I could here Mr. Pant saying: "Tell BabaJi I thank him for coming to me." Tell Babaji I am his grateful servant." Mr. Pant was waving goodbye. The sound of the motorcycle, the sun on my face, white puffy clouds and blue sky filled my senses.

As I lay my head on Vinnay's back, wrapping my arms around him, I closed my eyes. In the distance I could hear Mr. Pant shouting: "Bhole Baba Ki Jai! (Victory to the simple father!)

As I remember this day, tears and goose bumps still come. The energy rising up from my heart urges my throat to open and I wonder out loud for a moment: "Why don't we all live in that space all the time?" "What are we doing with our time in the world? What is the point of sadness and greed and anger, of ignorance and conflict, of poverty and pain, of disease and death? Why do I keep waking up (or falling back) into this world where school children go on shooting sprees, and grown men refuse to see the light?"

And then I remember the dream:

I fall into a hole and spend a lifetime climbing out, only to fall in again. This time the way out doesn't work. I must find a new way out. Another lifetime of struggle. And again I find myself in the hole: and again I must invent another way out. And then one day, certain that I will find a way out, I leap into the hole on purpose, just for the pleasure, the excitement of discovering another new way out!

Soon, I am jumping into holes filled with helpless hopeless people. I climb out. They see that the way. They follow. I stand up at the edge of the hole and celebrate as hands and heads appear, and one by one people climb out into freedom and safety!

It is the Tao. We find the point between the two worlds, and we go back and forth between them, again and again, until a gateway is formed, until a path is created. Then we travel that path again and again, until a road is paved, until others find the gate, create a path, and the way is open for all time and for everyone.

Thank you Mr. Pant for waking me up to the beauty of being, for showing me the joy of surrender, for demonstrating the power of devotion! Thank you for showing me that we teach best what we most need to learn!

Thank you Babaji for all these moments of pure bliss. Thank you for all the angels at work in the world. Thank you to life for all the mornings and evenings filled with joy and laughter. And thank you to all my friends and lovers of the breath, for reminding me that the light of God is in me and in you and in everyone and in everything, everywhere!