We have use of a Gypsy car—a partially open jeep with canvas roof—given to Gobind Sadan by a sevadar. Shami is its very capable driver. He tends to have visionary dreams that come true. When he dreams of a marriage, someone dies a few days later. Maharaj agreed that marriage dreams are not good signs, and told Shami to always tell him his dreams.
Two nights ago Shami had a dream in which two weddings were taking place: One was his and one was someone else’s. Then today he and the rest of us could have been killed if it had not been for Maharaj’s blessing. Shami had driven down the dirt footpath from the hillside to pick up Maharaj’s devotee Harvinder Singh. He did so in order to spare Harvinder Singh from walking in his weakened state, for he is suffering from cancer. After picking up Harvinder Singh, Shami had to drive in reverse for quite a distance, for there was no place to turn around on the footpath, which is several feet above the fields on either side, with concrete irrigation channels below. As Shami was backing up along the narrow path, the Gypsy went off the edge. It fell sideways and would have turned over, crushing us between the car’s body and the concrete irrigation channel. But suddenly we stopped falling, for the Gypsy landed against a small tree on the side of the embankment. The tree was perhaps only one and a half inches in diameter, but it kept the Gypsy from rolling over.
I got out to try to understand what had happened. I checked the Gypsy’s tracks, and discovered that after veering off the path, the tracks stopped, as though Someone had picked up the vehicle and placed it farther along the embankment in the only place that its fall could be stopped. This was no simple feat, for it then took eight men to lift the Gypsy back onto the path.
This is not the first time that we have been saved by Maharaj’s invisible Hand. Another time, Hardip Singh was driving Gobind Sadan’s lightweight Maruti van through the streets of Delhi early in the morning in order to pick up the homeopathic doctors who ran a free medical camp every other Sunday at Shiv Sadan. Drivers in Delhi tend to ignore red lights, especially in the early morning when the roads are empty. As we crossed an intersection, someone driving very fast suddenly appeared in the crossroad to our left, ignoring the red light, and was just about to ram our car at full speed. I was sitting on that side, and looked to see what Maharaj would do. There was no chance that the other car could stop, since the driver apparently hadn’t seen us. Nevertheless, just inches from our car, that car abruptly came to a halt. I could feel Maharaj’s large invisible Hand stopping it. Otherwise, as we had learned in driver’s education class, stopping distance of a car travelling at that speed and then jamming on the brakes would have been at least 10 to 15 feet. Instead, nothing happened, and we proceeded on our way.