lesson. I remember the heading. "Man laid the rails on the road." It was about the railroad train. So I read it to Baba and after that Baba said "Close the book and go to your class." I shut both books and went. This had two meanings. One, the inner meaning, the spiritual meaning, was not clear to me but was clear to Baba. There was another, outer meaning I could follow.

But the same day it happened that at 4:00 o'clock, my uncle came from Bombay to Meherabad in a tonga (a horse-drawn carriage). He came to Lower Meherabad and the Mandali asked him, "Who are you? Why have you come?" He said, "I have come to take two boys from this ‘Meherashram' and he gave the name of me and his son. This was reported to Baba and Baba did not object, He allowed us to go.

But I never wanted to go. It was the hardest thing for me to go out of Meherabad; but at the same time I was a small boy. I had to obey because my father died in Iran and there was no one to take care of me, only my uncle. So I went back with him to Bombay and I was entered in a Persian school. I stayed there until 1933.

The ashram was conducted in a very just fashion. Some of the worldly families from Bombay would send chocolates, packages of biscuits for their son through the post of Meherabad (Meherabad had its own post office). Then Baba, being the Father of all, would not allow the package of biscuits, etc., to go to only one boy. Instead the packages were kept until there was sufficient so that each and every boy could have one or two. One day all the boys would stand in line and each would get his share . . . two biscuits or three or one and a half. All of us, even the boy in whose name the package had come would get an equal share. Because in the eyes of Baba there is no wealthy and no poor, all are one. So Baba would behave in such a way so that no one's feeling should hurt.

Mohammed the Mast

One day, in 1940 one of Baba's disciples came to me in my shop and said, "Baba wants you to keep Mohammed. He will be sent to you to keep with you." I said, "Alright." I rented a room at Klavand, and I kept Mohammed in that room, engaging a person as his servant to look after him and his needs. Now, the thing is that to handle Mohammed in those days was a very difficult task, so difficult that it brought one to the point of weeping. Either one had to obey Baba or just leave Baba and say, "Baba, I can't do this." There is no other way out. So after a few days someone brought Mohammed and handed him over to me, and I kept him with me. The building belonged to a Dr. Jerome Fernandez, a Portuguese doctor. One night Mohammed threw his glass, his plate, and spoon out of his window -- his room was on the second floor. Bombay is a crowded city filled with poor people who sleep outside in the streets, wherever they can find a place; only in the rainy season do they go inside. There are dozens of them in a small place, just like sardines, because it is hard to get a room in Bombay.

So in the morning they came and complained to Dr. Jerome, "The Irani keeps a madman and he threw a glass, a plate and a spoon on us while we were sleeping." The doctor said, "Alright, I'll talk to him." I promised the doctor I would do something before sunset to prevent this. So immediately I went to the bazaar and brought a carpenter and I wire-netted the window so the problem was solved; Mohammed couldn't throw anything out. I was happy that the problem was over.

But after two, three weeks, another problem came up. In that building there were 8 rooms and in each one four or five persons were staying; they were Guanese. They had to go to work to the factory or all sorts of jobs. In the morning they wanted to go to the toilet. But Mohammed occupied the sole latrine and wouldn't come out for four, five hours. He would keep open the door of the latrine, and if anyone wanted to go inside, he would abuse him, make remarks about his father, his mother, wife, etc. Again, the people were irritated and again they complained to Dr. Jerome. But this time it was serious. The people paid rent, they wanted to go to work, and beforehand ease themselves, and they couldn't.