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Published: December 12th 2013
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Prem and Om
Locals from Pushkar on the other bike Old man look at my life, I'm a lot like you were Muni Baba was said by the locals to be at least 120 years old. I needed to see this. There was a festival of celebration and devotion being held over several days in the remote little village temple where he resided in a small dark room with a
duni (fire place) in the middle, which exuded far too much smoke than one might think healthy for anyone let alone a man of 120.
We went, the four of us, on two bikes to the place – about 10 kms from Pushkar. A nice ride on a good road mostly, and the countryside was looking wonderful and fresh on this winter morning. The other three were locals who had seen Muni Baba before and were true believers. We bought flowers from Pushkar as part of the offering – with my friends also giving money to the
baba.
There is always more than one story to tell about the many revered saints found in India. This
baba has apparently lived in this room for the last 40 years, having moved from another village
A chance to catch up
Local villagers have a chin-wag in the temple grounds down the road after a falling out over some ethical point of practice with the villagers there. That village had then floundered through a sudden lack of good ground water and this new village, who paid due homage to the
baba, prospered with what was claimed as a sudden good water supply. Also the
baba had not eaten
chappatis for 14 years although I was unable to establish why – perhaps as part of some ritual preparation for
samadhi (the complete absorption of the individual consciousness in the self at the time of death).
The place was alive with villagers decked out in Rajasthani traditional dress and there was provision for all to be fed and watered in a large eating tent at the back. The atmosphere was reverential as people waited in turn outside the small dark room to enter and pay their respects (and offerings) to the
baba. The
baba himself was lying down and was blind and (who am I to know) could well have been 120. He had to be propped up at one stage by an aid to allow some pictures to be taken. The guy squatting next to me told me it was
1,000 rupees per photograph (which I ignored – not knowing if he was making a demand or just saying that this was usually the case and I was being given a special privilege – we had after all asked the
baba if it was OK to take his picture).
Outside in the sitting area of the temple was another
baba – perhaps Muni Baba's
chella (student) holding court as
chillums and
chai were consumed.
I didn't feel anything from my encounter (and am not sure if I was supposed to). Tomorrow we are going to see another
baba: Alu Baba. His claim to fame is that he only eats potatoes. Bring it on
.
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David 'Big Fella' Foster
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The sun is the same In a relative way but you're older
Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Pink Floyd