After an early dinner the next day, she went over to meet Krishna. He was sitting quietly on a cane chair in the patio outside Aditi’s house. As soon as he saw Ahana approaching, he stood up and waved to her. “Welcome, Ahana,” he said, smiling.
“Hello,” she smiled back, “and how are you?”
“Great! Enjoying the evening breeze.”
Ahana looked straight at him. “What had you promised last night?” she asked, curious to see how much of their “telepathic” session last night was real.
Krishna smiled. “That we will go for a walk?”
“Yes. But then you could’ve read it in my mind.”
“You’ll have to think of some other way of authentication,” he said amusedly.
“I suppose so.”
“But why?” he asked. “What do you have to lose? At worst, you get to spend some quality time with me and discuss philosophy.”
She looked frankly at him and smiled. “You’re right. You are interesting company. And I feel good being with you. I can’t say that for too many people.”
“Are you sure that I have not hypnotised you?” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.
She looked quizzically at him for a few seconds and then laughed. “You know, I’m going to make a choice right now – for better or worse, I don’t care!”
He bowed with a flourish. “And I assure you that you will not regret it.”
“Let’s walk,” she said, “we have many things to talk about.”
“Of cabbages and kings,” Krishna muttered with a smile.
“What was that?” Ahana asked, peering at him.
Krishna laughed. “One of my old favorites: ‘The time has come,’ the walrus said, ‘to talk of many things: Of shoes and ships – and sealing wax – of cabbages and kings’.”
“Alice in Wonderland,” Ahana said immediately. “Sheer delight!”
“But you love your Shakespeare,” he said, looking at her knowingly. “I’ve heard you recite Hamlet to your pet squirrel!”
She laughed. “There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow!” she quoted in a dramatic tone.
He laughed too.
They walked quietly for a while. It was a pleasant breezy evening. There was no cloud in the sky and they could make out the faint trace of the rising moon in the east.
“You have a natural flair for telepathy,” Krishna said suddenly.
She smiled. “I wouldn’t have guessed! It must be one of those things that I was prepared for?”
He smiled back but did not respond.
“Are there other things that I have been prepared for?” she persisted.
“Yes, Ahana.”
“And am I ready for any of it?”
“You will find out soon enough,” he said.
“Tell me something about yourself, Krishna.”
They kept walking at a slow, leisurely pace. “Do you know of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother of Pondicherry?” he asked.
“Yes, sure. I have read some of Aurobindo’s poetry. Brilliant, profound!”
“Well, my parents are devotees of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. They joined the Mother, with some other devotees, to create the township of Auroville. I was born to them in Auroville. So that makes me an Aurovilian.”
“Oh, so you are from Auroville! I read about it in some journal. An experiment in conscious living?”
“Yes, among other things. I choose to think of it as a prototype.”
“Interesting. So, you were born and brought up in Auroville?”
“Born, yes; brought up partly in Ireland, partly in Auroville. I lived in Dublin with one of my aunts for higher studies. I was there for about ten years and then came back to Auroville. That was the time I decided that I didn’t wish to pursue a normal course of study or life.”
“Oh, so what did you do when you came back?”
“Studied Sri Aurobindo. It was while I was reading him that my awakening happened. Bit by bit.”
“How do you mean, awakening?”
“I realised that I have been with Sri Aurobindo in many lives, in many forms.”
“You speak again of many lives! Have you experienced any of your past lives?”
“Now how do I answer that?” Krishna smiled. “Will I totally lose my credibility with you if I were to say yes, I have?”
“I trust you, Krishna. These are not matters to be trifled with. If you say yes, I will take that as a yes.”
“Then, yes, Ahana.”
“That is fascinating. Can you tell me more about it? Do you know who you were? Or who I was? How were we together? How do you remember and I don’t? Were we both with Sri Aurobindo in other lives?”
“Wait, wait, not so fast and furious! You’ll have to be more patient, Ahana.”
“That is not one of my virtues!”
“But there is a method in all this. You don’t want it all to come to you merely as hearsay, do you?”
“No, but how else can it come to me?”
“Anubhuti,” Krishna said in Sanskrit, “direct experience and realisation.”
“Is that how it came to you?”
“Yes. It came through inner experience and recall. The more I experienced, the more I remembered, the more I understood. It was like gradually recalling past selves that never really died or dissolved.”
Ahana kept quiet for a few seconds, trying to assimilate.
“Did you have a mentor?” she asked, “A guru who helped you realise and recall?”
“Yes, but he came to me in many forms, and with many names,” Krishna said thoughtfully. “I was about seven or eight when I began to see strange visions and have weird experiences. There was this old man, always with a long white beard, who used to come to me in dreams and take me places, and explain all kinds of things to me. He became my best friend and my only real teacher. Because of him, I could pass through my early years without going crazy. My friends, of course, had no idea, but my parents could make out something was happening to me though they couldn’t help much. In a sense, I grew up a loner, but had a most magical childhood.”
“Very interesting!” she remarked pensively. “And how long was the old man with you?”
“I suppose till he felt that my own spirit had ripened enough,” Krishna said with a smile, “but if I were to call him even now, he would come.”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Yes, but long story. I’ll tell you someday.”
“Is he Sri Aurobindo?”
“No, not he; at least, not directly.”
She looked imploringly at him. He smiled back. “You will find out, Ahana,” he said, “by and by.”
“Okay,” she said shrugging, “I will wait, I suppose.”
They continued walking, enjoying the cool and refreshing breeze. After a few steps, Ahana asked again – “Tell me, what do you do? I mean in the worldly sense. You must be doing something for your livelihood?”
“Well, technically, I don’t need to. I have a friend who takes care of my worldly needs.”
“Oh! And that leaves you free for your other-worldly pursuits?”
“Other-worldly? That’s a quaint expression. But really, I think of it as an exploration of reality. It leaves me free to explore reality.”
“Like Yoga?”
“Somewhat. Yoga is more of a system. Exploration is not, it has no rules or methods. You go wherever the spirit takes you.”
“And where is it taking you, Krishna?”
Krishna smiled. “I don’t know, Ahana, and I don’t really care to know. I’m in no hurry, and there is nothing I need to accomplish. I am singularly without ambition. So it is easy for me to simply allow myself to be carried.”
Excerpted with permission from Somewhere Among the Stars: Recollections of a Mystic, Adi Varuni, BluOne Ink*.