HAZRAT BABAJAN, THE EMPEROR (One of Avatar Meher Baba's Five Perfect Masters)

""It is I who have created all! I am the source of everything in creation."

Upon hearing these ecstatic declarations, an angry mob of fanatic Baluchi soldiers
buried alive the old woman who proclaimed them. Over ten years later, when some
of these same soldiers happened to be in Poona, to their utter amazement they saw
the same woman, Hazrat Babajan, giving her blessing to a group of devotees.
Realizing their terrible mistake, the soldiers approached Babajan and begged her
forgiveness, placing their heads at her feet in reverence.
Babajan had a regal bearing. It angered her if anyone addressed her as "Mother."
The old woman would vehemently protest, "Do not call me that, you fool. I am not a
woman; I am a man!" For after attaining the highest possible spiritual state of a
Qutub (Perfect Master), her consciousness reflected the ascendency of Purush (the
masculine principle of the self) over Prakruti (the feminine principle of Nature or
maya). Thus she became a true man a Perfect Man.
Hazrat Babajan was born to a royal Muslim family of Baluchistan in northern India on
28 January between 1790 and 1800. Her given name was Gool Rukh, which means
like a rose or with cheeks like roses. The child's name truly befitted her, and she
retained this delicate beauty throughout her life, attracting people to her wherever
she went.
Gool Rukh's father was a minister in Kabul for the Amir (King). She was raised as a
princess, and no expense was spared in giving her the training and education
appropriate to her royal position. The girl was bright and intelligent. As a child, she
became known as a Hafiz-e-Koran, having learned the entire Koran by heart. She
also became fluent in several languages, including Arabic, Persian, Pashtu, Dari,
Urdu and even English.
Spiritually inclined from childhood, Gool Rukh spent much of her time in solitude
reciting the prayers she learned from the Koran or meditating silently. When her
childhood companions came to her house to play, they were disappointed to find
that she preferred a quiet room to their games. They sorely missed her. As the girl
grew into a young woman, her spiritual inclinations increased. She spent more and
more of her time alone. Her physical beauty also increased, and people remarked
that Gool Rukh's husband would be a lucky man indeed.
When Gool Rukh matured to the then marriageable age of fifteen, her parents
broached the topic. They were astonished at their daughter's staunch refusal to
marry. For a Pathan princess to remain single was unheard of especially one as
lovely as Gool Rukh. Her parents then tried to force her into wedlock, not knowing
that she had already chosen her Beloved. The maiden had fallen in love with One

who had captured her heart long, long ago. No prince or handsome groom could
take His place. Gool Rukh's heart was intoxicated in divine rapture, and she wept in
longing to unite with her Beloved.
As the months passed, Gool Rukh's parents became even more insistent and made
plans to celebrate her wedding on a certain date to a certain prince. Gool Rukh was
informed that she had no choice; all arrangements had been finalized. Although she
loved her parents, their plans were unbearable to her. Her eagerness to find her
true Beloved overcame all obstacles and hardships, and she escaped from home
and Baluchistan never to return to her parents.
Gool Rukh journeyed to the northeast, first to Peshawar, and then to Rawalpindi. At
the time, for a young maiden to run away from home and travel alone across the
mountainous regions of India was an incredible undertaking. But Beloved God was
watching over her, so on the rough mountain roads she was neither recognized nor
captured.
While traveling, Gool Rukh wore the traditional Muslim veil. But for how long would
her Beloved keep his loved one veiled? The Beloved was preparing to remove the
veil of duality and transform this worthy bride into the All-existing One.
Gool Rukh's heart was burning with the fire of divine love, suffering the terrible
pangs of separation from God. Her state of restlessness made her oblivious to
hunger, thirst and sleep. Day and night, she roamed the streets of Rawalpindi
absorbed in divine madness for her Beloved. The former princess was a wayfarer
now, and this constant restlessness was her only rest. Who knows how many
lifetimes of severe penance and austerities had created this spiritual longing in her?
Her only wish was to gaze upon the Beloved's face, and her heart cried out, "Come,
my Beloved, to meet me! Come soon or I shall die!"
Years passed like this, but Gool Rukh's tears of longing never ceased. Only after her
tears had "emptied" her bodily container did she meet a Hindu Sadguru. Under his
perfect guidance, Gool Rukh climbed a mountain in the wilderness in a region of
what is now Pakistan and lived in a secluded cave.
For a year and a half, she remained there, undergoing rigorous spiritual austerity.
Next she journeyed into the Punjab of India and stayed for some months in Multan.
The flames of separation were now consuming her, and she pleaded, "Come, O
Beloved, come! I am going. I am gone! I cannot wait!" Twenty years had passed.
Gool Rukh was 37 years old when she was completely ready "to go" to die the
final death. Not even a sanskaric speck of worldly attachment was left to prevent
her from finally departing. The Beloved, too, was anxiously waiting to embrace her.

In Multan, she met a Mohammedan Qutub, known as Maula Shah, whose divine
grace made Gool Rukh disappear, allowing her to merge in the Beloved forever.
Gool Rukh died the final spiritual death; she became God-realized. The illusion of the
universe faded away before her eyes as she became the Creator. Her soul cried out
in all-consuming bliss, "I alone am. There is no one besides me. Anal Haq [I am
God]!"
Time, too, disappeared. In her state of majzoobiyat, Gool Rukh was aware of being
God-conscious, but she was unconscious of creation, of her body and mind. She was
God-conscious but not illusion-conscious. In her perfect bliss, she alone existed in a
state of divine absorption. Gool Rukh had become perfect, One with God, but had no
consciousness of the illusory existence of Prakruti in Infinite Existence. In this state
of majzoobiyat, there is no existence of duality or manyness; the divine I or Ego
alone is. Gool Rukh had become a perfect majzoob of the seventh plane God unto
himself. She had no awareness that all of creation was hidden like a shadow in the
light of her Godhood.
But Gool Rukh was not destined to escape Prakruti, although she had temporarily
lost all consciousness of it. Prakruti knew that this God-conscious woman could not
remain indifferent toward her responsibilities indefinitely. This soul, now spiritually
Perfect, had to know and control illusion as illusion in order to play the magnificent
role for which she alone was destined. She had to summon the Awakener to earth,
and then to unveil him.
From India, in her God-realized state, Gool Rukh, journeyed back to the northern
regions, drawn again to Rawalpindi and to her previous Hindu Master. The Hindus
called her a Brahmi-bhoot. She had achieved the Goal, but the consciousness to
lead others to It was not perfected in her.
After several years, with the help of her Hindu Master, Gool Rukh regained
consciousness of the universe of duality, and was transformed into a Perfect Master.
Along with her divine consciousness of the Unlimited Ocean of Reality, she began
seeing every drop as a drop and was empowered to turn each drop into the Ocean
Itself.
Upon becoming one of the five Perfect Masters on earth, Gool Rukh left Rawalpindi
and embarked on several long journeys through the Middle East to Syria,
Lebanon, Iraq and other countries. It is said that she traveled to Mecca disguised as
a man, by way of Afghanistan, Iran, Turkey and Arabia. At the Kaaba in Mecca, she
offered the customary Mohammedan prayers five times a day, always sitting at one
selected spot. While in Mecca, she often fed the poor, and personally nursed
pilgrims who had fallen ill. She also spent long hours gathering fodder for
abandoned cattle.

From Mecca, Gool Rukh journeyed to the tomb of Prophet Muhammad at Medina,
where she again adopted the same routine, offering prayers and caring for her
fellow pilgrims. Leaving Arabia, she wandered overland to Baghdad, and from Iraq
back to the Punjab. In India, she traveled south to Nasik and established herself in
Panchvati, an area sanctified by Lord Ram. To the local people, her spiritual
"manliness" was apparent. The power of her glance overshadowed her female body
and attire. From Nasik, Gool Rukh went further south to Bombay, where she stayed
for several months. After finishing her spiritual work there, she returned to the
Punjab and spent several years wandering throughout northern India.
In Rawalpindi during this period, Gool Rukh, in a glorious intoxicated state of
ecstasy, proclaimed her divine authority. "It is I who created the universe," she
informed a group of Mohammedans gathered before her. "It is I who have created
all! I am the source of everything in creation."
The listeners had no idea that she whom they considered insane was actually
conscious of being God. As related earlier, some of the more fanatic Mohammedans,
certain Baluchi soldiers from the local military regiment, were so infuriated by Gool
Rukh's declarations that one night they attacked her and held her by force. They
dug a pit and then buried her alive.
The soldiers were proud of themselves, for they considered her utterances
blasphemy against Islam. By killing this madwoman, they believed they would be
spiritually rewarded.
They believed they had carved a special niche for themselves in Paradise by killing
this kafir [infidel or heretic] and safeguarding Islam's sacred truth.
In spite of being left to die in a nameless grave, Gool Rukh did not die. She could not
die, because her responsibility for manifesting formless God in form was not yet
fulfilled. It is not known how she survived this ordeal, but around 1900 she managed
to return safely to Bombay, over 1,000 miles south, where she lived on the sidewalk
of a street called Chuna Bhatti near Sion.
Years later, the Punjab regiment was transferred to Poona, and when these same
soldiers saw Babajan alive there, their pride and ill-formed conceptions were
completely shattered. They then understood that it was not Babajan who was the
unbeliever but they themselves. Overcome with repentance for their horrible deed,
they fell at the Master's feet seeking forgiveness. As long as the regiment remained
in Poona, the soldiers came to pay their respects to Babajan frequently. Some of the
soldiers became her devotees and served as bodyguards.
In Bombay, Gool Rukh wandered about the Pydhonie locality particularly. Gradually,
her fame spread and many believed her to be a Qutub. The Mohammedans began

referring to her as Hazrat, meaning Your Highness, and began worshiping her as
Babajan. Occasionally she would meet with saint Maulana Saheb of Bandra and with
saint Abdul Rehman of Dongri. She would lovingly address them as "my children,"
and it was glorious to see how happy the ancient woman was in their company.
Later, Babajan was to bestow God-realization upon both of these saints.
In April 1903, Babajan sailed from Bombay on the SS Hyderi on her second
pilgrimage to Mecca. Although every moment Babajan was absorbed in her blissful
state, aboard ship she acted quite normal. She would lovingly converse with the
other passengers, reciting couplets from the Persian poets Hafiz and Rumi, and
expound in simple terms about the deep mysteries of the Absolute. All were
attracted to the old woman and eager to listen to her speak, including the crew,
with whom she spoke in English.
One unusual incident occurred during this voyage. It started raining heavily and a
massive storm arose. All were terrified. People panicked, convinced the ship was
about to sink. Just then, Babajan appeared on deck, seemingly unmindful of the
danger.
In an unusually loud voice, she shouted to one of the passengers, Nooma
Pankhawala, "Wrap a large kerchief around your neck to form a bag. Approach every
passenger including the children and collect one paisa [penny] from each.
Then have them beseech God with this prayer: 'O God! Save our ship from this
storm. On reaching Medina, in the name of your beloved Prophet, we will offer food
to the poor.' " Immediately, Nooma collected one paisa from each person
including the British sailors on board and all fervently repeated what Babajan had
commanded. Gradually the squall subsided. They had escaped what appeared to be
certain death.
When the ship arrived in Mecca, word of the miraculous rescue spread, and a great
multitude gathered to be personally blessed by Babajan. At the Kaaba, Babajan
assumed the role of an ordinary pilgrim, performing prayers five times a day at the
shrine. After a few days, she journeyed north to Medina. There in the name of
Muhammad, the Prophet of the All-merciful, she distributed grain to the poor.
About 1904, Babajan returned to Bombay and soon afterward proceeded to Ajmer in
northern India to pay homage at the tomb of the Sufi Perfect Master, Mu'inuddin
Chishti, who established Islam in India. Babajan returned to Bombay, and sometime
in 1905 traveled east to Poona, where her beloved son was a growing child. With
her arrival in Poona, Babajan's days of traveling came to an end. She settled in
Poona permanently to fulfill her spiritual duty to unveil Merwan Sheriar Irani as the
Avatar of the Age.
When Babajan first lived in Poona, she did not remain at any fixed place. She would

wander in the "Camp" (cantonment) area or roam about the city and even frequent
squalid slums. Although her clothes were ragged and soiled, the glowing beauty
glow of her face attracted many to her. Gool Rukh had been born a princess, but
now, as an Emperor, her true majesty was unmistakable!
After a while, Babajan was never found alone. She was always surrounded by a
crowd. She never bathed, yet always smelt fragrant. Her physical needs were
practically nil; she seldom ate or slept. She was fond of tea, however, and drank
prodigious amounts throughout the day and night. Her followers would bring cup
after cup for her and those around her, which she would distribute as prasad.
If someone happened to bring flowers, she would scold the person for wasting
money, asking, "What good are these flowers? Why didn't you buy something like
sweets or tea which all can enjoy?"
If Babajan happened to look at someone who was passing by, the person would
stand transfixed, gazing at her divine countenance. Restaurant owners and fruit
vendors would beg her to visit, and offer her whatever she wanted. If Babajan
complied, they would consider themselves fortunate.
When Babajan went to the cantonment area, she often visited the house of a
Muslim named Shaikh Imam, a watchmaker. Seeing her ragged clothes, Shaikh's
mother wished to bathe and dress Babajan in new clothes, but Babajan always
refused. One day, however, she relented, and with the utmost difficulty and
patience, Shaikh's mother gently bathed the Master and attired her in a new clean
robe and undergarments especially stitched for her. This was the last bath Babajan
was to have for as long as she lived. Despite this, her body was always fragrant and
free from impurities, as if it was being bathed in the wine of love that flowed from
her eyes.
Having no permanent place to stay in Poona, at night Babajan would rest alongside
any street. Once she stayed near the shrine at Wakadia Bagh and from there went
to sit for a time near the Panch Pir shrine at Dighi. There were many ant colonies
near the Panch Pir shrine, and the ants would swarm over Babajan, biting her and
causing large welts on her body. Yet Babajan remained seated quietly, as if nothing
was happening.
One day a man named Kasam V. Rafai went to Dighi, and upon seeing Babajan
covered with ants, with Babajan's permission, he attempted to remove them. He
was not successful as many of the ants had burrowed into Babajan's skin. Rafai
persuaded Babajan to come to his house where, with much difficulty, after applying
oil to her body, he removed hundreds of the tiny insects. Throughout this painful
ordeal, Babajan barely indicated any discomfort.

After staying temporarily at several different locations throughout Poona, Babajan

took up residence under a neem tree near Bukhari Shah's mosque in Rasta Peth.
Larger crowds began to congregate there, and Babajan was hampered by the
limited space around her. Her followers implored her to change her seat, but
Babajan replied cryptically, "One devil is here. Unless and until I get rid of him, it is
not possible for me to move an inch."
Opposite her chosen site was a large banyan tree. When the municipality chopped
down the tree to expand the road, Babajan suddenly decided to move. For two
weeks she was seen near a tomb in the Swargate locality. From there, she shifted to
an area in the Camp called Char Bawdi (Four Wells) on Malcolm Tank Road, where
she sat beneath a neem tree. This spot proved to be her final throne, where she
remained for many years until she dropped her body.
When Babajan first moved to Char Bawdi, the area was filthy, dusty, and infested
with hordes of mosquitoes. Plague germs had even been detected there. During the
day the area was desolate and deserted, but at night it sprang to life with thieves,
drunkards, and the local riffraff.
Babajan remained seated under the neem tree a rock of absolute Godhood in the
shifting sands of ignorance moving about her. After months of exposure to the
elements, she grudgingly allowed her devotees to build a shelter of gunny sacks
above her. She stayed there throughout the seasons alleviating humanity's
suffering by allowing anyone to come to her to sip the wine of her presence.
Several years later, there was a marvelous change in this area. Buildings were
constructed, teashops and restaurants appeared, and electricity was provided. Due
to the establishment of Babajan's seat under the neem tree, Char Bawdi became a
charming area in which to live and raise a family.
Moths gather where there is light. They seek death by trying to merge the darkness
of their futility in the light of purity. No one can escape the light of Illumination when
one nears its source. Even one blindfolded in ignorance feels the effect of this light,
whose flame burns away the veil. Such was the light in and around Babajan. As
crowds gathered and bowed to her, qawaals (singers) poured their hearts out before
her in song. The fragrance of flowers wafted on all sides, and the sweet burning of
incense purified the air. Those who received her darshan and were blessed by her
thanked God for their rare good fortune.
On one occasion in 1919, Babajan forewarned the large group gathered around her,
"All should leave immediately for your homes. Go!" Her wishes were respected, but
no one understood why she was so insistent on sending them away. Shortly
thereafter, a storm with heavy rains swept through Poona, uprooting trees and
causing extensive damage throughout the city.

The gunny sacks over her head were scant protection and Babajan was drenched.
Her close disciples begged her to come away to some sturdier shelter, but she
refused to move from under the tree and sent them away. Although she saw to the
safety of others, she herself withstood the deluge and was soaked.
Gradually the ancient woman's fame spread, and Muslims, Hindus and Zoroastrians
came for her darshan. Char Bawdi became a holy place of pilgrimage and Babajan
poured out wine for the sincere. After meeting the Master, the pilgrims felt content
and grateful. Day after day, the number of devotees increased, and Babajan was
worshiped and revered by thousands throughout India.
The British military authorities were annoyed at finding the road near Babajan
blocked with traffic and surging crowds each day. The officials were helpless,
however, to do anything about it, because they knew that if Babajan was forcibly
removed, there would be an uproar which would not easily subside. It became
apparent that a strong, permanent shelter needed to be erected for the old woman.
Initial funds were provided by the British authorities, but when the new shelter was
finished, Babajan obstinately refused to shift, since it had been constructed a few
feet away from her original seat. So the structure was extended at additional cost to
the civic authorities to cover her seat under the neem tree. Again she refused to sit
under it. Only when her devotees pleaded with her did she at last consent.
Even at 100 years old, Babajan's wrinkled countenance still resembled a blossoming
rose, and the expression in her brown-blue eyes was irresistible. She was somewhat
stooped and short in height. Her complexion was extremely fair, and her white hair
fell to her shoulders. Her voice was uncommonly sweet and pleasing to the ear. She
lived as a simple fakir and possessed only what she wore. But her simplicity held an
invaluable treasure. She had renounced her royal heritage and become dust-like.
And by leading a life of utter purity, she had gained untold divine wealth, which she
dedicated to the world.
Babajan would dress in loose white cotton pants with a long white kafni (tunic) in
both winter and summer. A shawl always lay across her shoulders, and besides
these humble garments, she wore no other protection against the elements. Her
head was always bare and her hair was never washed, combed or oiled.
When she walked, her gait was like one intoxicated. When she listened to devotional
music, her body would sway to the rhythm of its melody. Babajan's physical
condition changed frequently. One day she would have a high fever and the next,
without taking any medication, she would be fine.
She would address everyone, whether young or old, man or woman, as baba (child).
If any person called her Mai (Mother), she would grimace and rebuke them, "I am a
man, not a woman." This strange declaration of hers was faithful to the words of

Prophet Muhammad, who said, "A lover of the world is a woman, a lover of paradise
is a eunuch, and a lover of God is a man." People would, therefore, affectionately
call her Amma Saheb, meaning Mother and Sir at the same time.
Miracles were often associated with Babajan. She was a physician in her own
peculiar manner. If someone sick approached her for relief, she would utter, "This
child is suffering due to pills." By "pills" she meant that the person suffered from the
sanskaras (impressions) of his or her actions. Babajan would take hold of the painful
part of the person's body and mysteriously call to an imaginary soul. She would
then shake the afflicted part two or three times and tell the cause the sanskaras
to go. This method of treatment inevitably cured the sufferer of his or her
complaint.
One day a Zoroastrian child who had completely lost his sight was brought to
Babajan. She took the child in her arms, mumbled some incantation, and then blew
upon the child's eyes. Immediately, the child regained his vision, jumped out of her
lap, and joyfully declared his jubilation at being able to see.
Babajan lived as a poor, homeless fakir on the street, but out of reverence, her
devotees would bring her expensive cloth or jewelry as gifts. Babajan was
indifferent toward such material offerings, and dishonest persons would take away
the cloth or jewelry. Some would even steal from her while she watched. Babajan
never tried to stop them. Once Babajan, covered by a fine shawl, was seemingly
asleep under her tree. A thief snuck up and, seeing the shawl, was tempted to steal
it. But as a corner of the shawl was under Babajan's body, to pull it out was risky.
The thief was wondering how to manage it when at that moment Babajan turned
over.
Taking advantage of her changed position, the thief grabbed the shawl and ran
away. In this way Babajan helped the thief fulfill his desire.
On another occasion, a devotee from Bombay brought Babajan two expensive gold
bangles, and after bowing to her, put them on her wrist. The man said that through
Babajan's past blessing, some worldly desire of his had been fulfilled, and as a token
of appreciation, he had brought the bangles for her. One night soon after, a robber
crept up behind Babajan and roughly forced the bangles off, causing her wrist to
bleed. The robber attempted a speedy escape, but nearby witnesses shouted for
help. Hearing their cries, a policeman came and inquired about the uproar. But what
did Babajan do? The old woman startled the crowd by raising a stick and exclaiming,
"Arrest those people who are shouting. It is they who are disturbing me. Take them
away."
As mentioned, Babajan seldom ate. She would often protest that eating was like
patching a torn cloth meaning that ingesting food was similar to patching this

cloth of a body to preserve it. A man was appointed as her mujawar (caretaker),
whose duty it was to look after her personal needs and to serve her. He was a goodhumored fellow, and whenever he would ask Babajan to eat, he would jokingly say,
"Amma Saheb, the jodna [patch] is ready now."
Babajan would constantly mutter seemingly incoherent phrases such as, "Vermin
are troubling me incessantly. I brush them away but they gather again." Then she
would vigorously brush her body, as if removing dust or cobwebs.
Baba once explained this:
The infinite number of sanskaras in the entire universe are attracted to the five
Perfect Masters and are purified in their divine fire. When the sanskaras are purified,
they return, spreading throughout the universe as spiritual sanskaras. In this way
the Perfect Masters' bodies serve as centers for collecting and cleansing the
universal sanskaras of the world, and again disseminating them as spiritual
sanskaras.
Perfect Masters, such as Babajan, have their own inner way of working. For
example, one night, in the town of Talegaon about 20 miles from Poona, a play was
being staged in a local theater. There was a large crowd and the theater was packed
to capacity. The management locked the doors to prevent more people from
entering. During the play a fire broke out and the audience panicked, since the
doors were locked.
Simultaneously in Poona, Babajan was observed to be behaving quite strangely. She
began pacing back and forth restlessly. Quite excited, she angrily shouted, "Fire!
Fire! The doors are locked and people are going to burn. You damn fire! Extinguish!"
The people around her could not understand what was happening. But in Talegaon,
as the people there later related, suddenly the doors of the theater flew open and
the crowd rushed out, averting a horrible tragedy.
The Perfect Masters' ways are unique as well as curious. The boundlessness of their
spiritual work is outside the limits of rational human understanding. One example of
this is the following incident. Although Babajan had an aversion to presents of
jewelry, she kept tight, gaudy rings on her fingers which she would never remove.
One ring was so tight that her finger began to swell and a deep wound developed.
Maggots crawled in and out of the wound. When the worms would fall off, Babajan
would pick them up. Placing them back on the wound, she would utter, "My
children, feed and be at ease." Naturally, people tried to take her to a doctor, but
she always refused, not even allowing the wound to be bandaged. Consequently,
gangrene set in and the finger wasted away and fell off. The wound healed, but
seeing her condition, the Master's devotees shed tears. "Why do you weep?" she
scolded them. "I enjoy the suffering."

Babajan was generous toward the ailing and destitute. If a hungry man came to her,
she would hand him her own food. In winter, if a shivering man approached her, she
would give him her shawl. But once there seemed to be an exception to her usual
generosity. It was bitterly cold one night and an old man, shaking pitiably, came to
her. He had a severe cold and a high fever. He prayed to Babajan to cure him by her
nazar (sight). Babajan, however, became furious and angrily snatched away the thin
blanket wrapped around his shoulders which was his sole scanty protection against
the cold. After this, Babajan ignored him, and the old man quietly sat down to spend
the bitter night beside her. By morning, he was feeling unusually strong and looked
healthy, and he left happily, fully recovered.
Babajan would usually speak in Pashtu or Persian and frequently utter the names of
the Persian poets Hafiz and Amir Khushrow. She would often quote these couplets:
Despite millions of learned pundits and thousands of wise men,
Only God understands His own way of working.
Wonderful is Your creation, O God! Wonderful is Your game!
You poured jasmine oil on the head of a shrew.
Sometimes Babajan mentioned different saints or Masters and would remark
particularly about Tajuddin Baba, whom she referred to with the utmost respect as
Taj meaning crown of the Kingdom. "Taj is my Khalifa [successor, supreme ruler],"
she would say. "What Taj gives, he gets from me."
On 17 August 1925 at midnight, Babajan suddenly exclaimed, "My poor fakir Taj has
gone." No one could understand what she meant, but the next morning when the
newspapers carried the story of Tajuddin Baba's demise in Nagpur, people grasped
the significance of her utterance.
Babajan resided continuously on the streets of Poona for almost 26 years, during
which time thousands of hearts were wounded by the arrow of her glance. Every
day around her flame, the moths hovered and burned, and, in January 1914, her
flame kissed the Light of the Age, unveiling young Merwan Irani. Babajan had
traveled to Poona from the Punjab so many years before for this supreme mission.
With tears in her eyes, she would utter, "One day my son will come ... He will shake
the world!" No one had any idea what she meant.
Her seat under the neem tree was just a few streets away from Merwan's home.
Often she would see him pass by, but she waited years before she embraced him.
People would see her weeping, and when they inquired why, she would reply, "I

weep out of love for my son." This statement was astonishing, because it was
inconceivable for the old fakir to have given birth to a child. Age will soon witness
their reunion.
On 18 September 1931, one of Babajan's fingers was operated on at Sassoon
Hospital, but afterward she did not appear to be recovering. Three days later, at
4:27 P.M. on 21 September, when Babajan's beloved son was far away in a foreign
land diffusing the rays of his Wine, Hazrat Babajan completed her divine mission
and departed from this material plane.
It is believed that Babajan's physical presence on earth lasted between 130 to 141
years. People were speechless when they learned that the ancient woman had died.
Tears flowed throughout Poona and gloom hung over the city as if clouds had
become her shroud.
Thousands joined the funeral procession for her last journey through the streets of
Poona. Babajan was buried at 10:00 A.M. on 22 September under the same neem
tree where she sat for so many years. The expense of erecting her dargah (tombshrine) was met by her beloved son, Merwan, who personally contributed (rupees)
Rs.4,000 for its construction.
A few days before Babajan dropped her body, she muttered, "It is time for me to
leave now. The work is over ... I must close the shop."
One of her devotees pleaded, "Do not say such things Babajan. We need you with
us."
With a quizzical look, she replied, "Nobody wants my wares. Nobody can afford the
price. I have turned my goods over to the Proprietor."
Although Babajan is sleeping in her tomb, her devotees know that she is always
awake in their hearts. Age declared:
O Babajan! Our loving and full-hearted homage to you.
Your kiss awakened the Awakener!
Lord Meher, Revised Online Edition, p. 3-16
photo: meherbabatravels.com