Altering Time and Space

One evening in 1973, we left Brindavan about 8 p.m. to return to Bangalore.  There were five of us in the taxi, plus the driver.  The Bangalore road has only two lanes.  Some miles from Brindavan we overtook a bus.  Although the driver of our taxi saw some lights ahead, he estimated there was plenty of time to pass the bus.  He could not have been more mistaken - the lights ahead were of a car moving at a very high speed towards us!

At this point in time and space, the simple action of passing a bus had escalated into a situation of terrifying potential, that of a fatal head-on collision.

In this particular area, the layout of the road was also deadly.  The road was under repair, and there was a high bank of dirt and rocks covering the side of the road.  Thus there was no possibility of the oncoming car being able to swerve off the road.  We, too could not take evasive action, for the bus was on our left and the road repair material on our right, and by this time the oncoming car was directly in front of us!  A foolish driver in that car and  an equally foolish driver in our taxi!

Of course, at the time of the impending crash, there was no time for this analysis; the incident sort of exploded upon us without warning.  The lights of the oncoming car now shone directly into the windscreen of our taxi.  The cars could not have been more than a second or so apart.  We were stunned.  Not one of us recollected Baba or called Him.  We felt we were as good as dead, and we instinctively tensed for the crash.  But at that very moment, something happened that was without rational explanation.

At one moment the two cars were upon each other, about to be smashed in a fatal head-on collision.  The very next moment, the oncoming car was behind us, and we were continuing to pass the bus with a clear road ahead!  Looking backwards, we could see the receding red tail lamp of the other car.  There was no crash.  There was no lapse of time; there had been no possibility of a last-moment maneuver.

The next day we drove out to Brindavan as usual about 8 a.m. so as to be waiting on the veranda for Baba to appear for morning darshan.  As soon as He came into the room, I touched the Lotus Feet and said, "We want to thank Baba for saving our lives last night."

Baba smiled and said, "Yes, that was a close one.  You were so shocked that not even one of you called for Swami!  But Swami saved you anyway."  Then He turned to a group of men and in Telugu told them the entire story of the incident.  I then said, "Swami, you must have altered time and space in order to save us."  Baba just smiled and did not answer.

In 1978, I happened to meet Joe King, one of our fellow taxi passengers.  It was in New York, where he lives.  He asked, "Were you ever able to figure out what happened that time in the taxi?"  I smiled, shook my head and said, "No."

(From: "My Baba and I" by Dr. John S. Hislop)