Just a story.

Enough of my thoughts, let me tell you a story.

When I was born, I tended to sleep with my fists curled up tight. Baba, who visited Bindra House regularly in tose days, and usually volunteered to look after me while my mum worked in the kitchen, used to spend a lot of time uncurling my fists and holding them open. Of course, as soon as He let go, I curled my fists up again. After a while Baba told my family that He had done His best, but even God could not make me generous.

There are many stories about how stingy (I prefer careful) I was as a child. One of my mum's favourites is this one:

Baba would often take the family to the zoo in Poona, Peshwa Park. The elephant there always stopped in front of Him and saluted Baba. On one of these occasions, the elephant stopped and saluted Baba. I was a babe in my mum's arms, possibly just over a year old. I was eating a biscuit out of a packet that my mum held for me. Baba turned to her and gestured, 'Get Mehera to give the elephant a biscuit.' My mum said, 'Mehera, Baba says give the elephant a biscuit.' At which, so they say, I broke a corner off the biscuit I was eating and offered it to the elephant. Baba saw this, smiled broadly and gestured, 'See, I told you. Even God cannot make her generous.'

He was always keen to hear about other incidents when I demonstrated that unwillingness to share. It entertained Him, and I am glad that He found a chuckle or two in my actions. But there was a result, eventually. After all, when the Avatar opens your fists, something has to be let go of. However, I am not going to tell you about that, because I said right at the start, 'Enough of my thoughts.'