The occultist’s mother was with him, and he asked his mother to cook. His mother said, “At eleven o’clock people will not come. It is impossible!” The son said, “Mother, please cook. Otherwise, I am going to cook. They are coming here for my advice. Either you cook or I am going to cook, because I can see they are hungry. They are coming here for my advice.” This occultist had tremendous respect for my father.
The mother cooked, and at around eleven o’clock my father came for his advice. At eleven o’clock the son said, “I can see them. They are coming.”
My brother Chitta and my maternal uncle’s son were both in a Chittagong hospital. My father went to my occultist-uncle for my brother, because he was worried, and my maternal uncle went for his son, because he was worried. The occultist lived in the village and my brother and my cousin were in the Chittagong hospital. What happened?
My occultist-uncle gave my father a handful of ash. He said, "Doctors! You do not have worry. He will be all right. Just put this on his head.”
To my maternal uncle he said, “God is also inside doctors. The doctors will be able to cure your son, so do not worry.”
My father put the ash on my brother’s forehead, and my brother was cured. The other fellow, whom my uncle had said the doctor’s medicine would cure, died. The occultist told my father not to use medicine. He said, “I am giving you Mother Kali’s ash, so do not use medicine any more.” My brother is still alive, and our cousin is gone.
Once more I am telling a story about my uncle’s occult power. Another uncle was very undivine. My father used to support him, because he was a vagabond. My father gave him money to open up a store. He did not do well. He did not care for business. My father once wrote to him saying that we would always support him, and if anything went wrong with the shop, then my father would save him. He exploited us in every way! He ruined the business. Then he sued my father for not keeping his promise.
Now my father was in serious trouble. This uncle had exploited my father’s compassion. The case went to the court. They had the letter signed by my father. My father’s lawyer was denying that my father was responsible, but the letter was with the other party, so what could he do?
My mother went to my other uncle, the occultist, in Chittagong. He said, “Do not worry. Everything will be all right.” My mother had such faith in him.
The lawyer of the opposing party was so happy that he had the letter with my father’s signature, saying that he would be responsible if anything went wrong with the business. Very happily and proudly the lawyer of the opposing party gave the letter to the judge. The judge read out everything, but the signature was not there! Everything was in order; it was my father’s handwriting, but there was no signature. The judge showed the letter to my father.
They asked my father to sign his name. My father was very smart. He signed his name in a totally different way.
The strange thing was that the signature had been there, but the occultist removed it. From an Indian village he removed the signature! He did not even know where the high court was; he just used his occult power and erased my father’s signature completely.
These things happened in our family, so you can see what an occultist can do.
Ten thousand years ago a spiritual Master had a sister. The doctors said that she had tuberculosis. The family was in a state of terrible shock, because in that family two persons had already died of tuberculosis.
The whole family was suffering. When they told the spiritual Master, the spiritual Master said, “Do not worry. In ten or twelve days she will be all right.” Then the spiritual Master said to his sister that he would bring her back to the hospital and ask the same doctors to examine her.
After ten or twelve days the sister went with her brother to the hospital, and two doctors examined her. They examined her a second time, and they could not believe that all signs of tuberculosis had disappeared. Just a few days earlier they had seen the disease clearly, and they said it was definitely tuberculosis. But now those tuberculosis germs had all disappeared.
I can remember what happened in the spiritual Master’s life ten thousand years ago. I have many, many, many stories. These things happened in our family, so everybody knows, everybody knows.
One evening another sister was unable to see. Everything was hazy. I was at that time fourteen or fifteen years old. I said, “Do not worry.” I massaged her eyes, only to make her completely blind! I had told her not to worry!
My aunt, who is now ninety-seven and a half years old, insulted me and scolded me to her heart’s content for what I had done. But my sister was extremely kind, compassionate and affectionate towards me. She did not find fault with me, although my family members scolded me. For two days she was absolutely blind. Then they wanted to take her to the hospital. I said, “Wait! I will not allow you to go to the hospital. Since I am the culprit, I will cure her.”
At that time I put my palms over her eyes. I did not massage her eyes — absolutely nothing of the sort. I gave back her vision completely; she regained the vision that she had. For two days she was blind and I was the culprit, but I gave her vision back.
God alone knows why I happened to be there the evening that she was not able to see well and she was worrying, and why I became the culprit and made her completely blind by massaging her eyes. God alone knows, God alone knows. Occult power I do use. This kind of thing happens.
The stories about my uncle’s occult power are absolutely true. In an obscure Indian village he used occult power. Then some people from Calcutta went to East Bengal. They heard about him, and they brought him to Calcutta. They would ask him questions. He was illiterate to the extreme. When he answered questions, sometimes he would use the Chittagong dialect. Villagers could understand him, but Calcutta people would think his language was totally wrong. How would they understand our Chittagong dialect?
Once this uncle used an ordinary word, “broom,” from the pure Chittagong dialect, and then some Chittagong ladies who happened to be present started laughing, because that word only someone from Chittagong would know. They were laughing and laughing, but he used the word so many times that the Calcutta people started repeating it as a mantra. The Bengali word and the Chittagong word were totally different. He used the Chittagong word, and the Calcutta people did not know it. Since he used it four or five times, they started repeating it again and again and again. And the ladies from Chittagong were such rogues! They were laughing because that word does not exist in proper Bengali. The Master used the word so many times that his devotees thought it was a very spiritual word, and they started repeating and repeating it. That kind of blind faith they had!
That uncle of mine did not want to marry. But his parents stood against him, and they forced him to marry. In those days the couple was brought from one village to another in village style, on a palanquin. On the way he said he had to heed nature’s call, and he disappeared. He did not go home. His poor wife — where would she go? Would she go back to her father’s place, or to her new father-in-law’s place? She cried and cried and cried. Finally they brought her back to her parents’ place, because she did not want to go to her father-in-law’s place. That was how the marriage ended.
While he was alive, this uncle did not keep any connection with his wife because the marriage was, let us say, annulled. But the funniest thing happened after he left the body. Some of his devotees felt that they needed someone to guide them. His wife did not follow the spiritual life at all. After he left her, she was in her own world and he was in his own world. But after this uncle’s passing, his devotees begged and begged the wife to be with them.
What did they do? Look at their faith! They brought her from her village to Calcutta, and they put a picture of their Master next to her. They said, “You do not have to do anything. Only stay in our temple; we shall give you everything. He accepted you. You were with him for a few hours on the palanquin, and the marriage was settled.” In this way they begged her and forced her to come to Calcutta, and they gave her a place to live.
The devotees turned this woman to the spiritual life. She became spiritual! How? Through the faith of the devotees. Look at the devotees! She was upset because her husband had behaved so badly to her, but how good his disciples were! They brought her to their place and they turned her towards the spiritual life.
This occultist’s name was Tara Charan — “The Feet of Mother Kali.” Tara is one of the names of Mother Kali.
FSC 16. 13 January 1998, Lawn of the Piramides Hotel, Cancun, Mexico↩
From:Sri Chinmoy,The Feet of the Supreme's Compassion, Agni Press, 2015
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/fsc