Maharaj hasn’t been speaking publicly for some time, perhaps because he has a cough. Thus he has usually been sitting in his inner room, rather than on the sofa in the outer room next to a wall of windows. But yesterday he sat in the outer room and was inspired to give a long talk about our lack of understanding of enlightened wisdom. While he was talking, old Jagat Singh shuffled up to the window. Maharaj kept speaking, without a pause, while at the same time turning quickly toward Jagat Singh and doing what looked like sign language with his hands. Jagat Singh bowed and shuffled off.

            I was amazed. I had never seen Maharaj speaking in sign language. This morning I asked Bhagat JI if he had ever seen Maharaj doing that, and he said, “No, never.”

            Then, as Maharaj himself arranged the drama, Jagat Singh himself shuffled by. I enlisted the help of Bibi Jaswant Kaur to ask him what Maharaj “said” to him. Jagat Singh replied, “I had high blood pressure. He waved his hand around, as if around my head, and then I thought maybe he was telling me to rub bibhuti (ash from the havan) on my chest. The blood pressure went down, and I didn’t understand what he was saying, so I left.”

            So now I think Maharaj was healing him from a distance by removing the pressure, as well as perhaps instructing him—or maybe the gesture to the chest was also distance healing. He made those hand motions so quickly and unexpectedly even while continuing to talk, that I don’t remember quite what he did with his hand. At the time, I thought maybe he was telling Jagat Singh to go eat something, but then I figured there must be more to it.

            Yesterday, while still talking in inspiration, Maharaj glanced at me. With my eyes, I asked him, “What was that?” With his eyes, he pulled the veil down again.

            This is a very strange dance between us. His role is to hide himself; my role is to try to witness and record what he is doing. He is always too subtle for me, and yet there are little hints, tiny glimpses of his hidden power, all the time.

            Maharaj is not supposed to be talking these days, I think because it seems to aggravate his cough. When I told Rani that he had just delivered a beautiful inspired message, she was alarmed. She said, “He’s not supposed to be talking. That’s what happens when he sits on that sofa.”

            What is Gobind Sadan, that even a sofa calls forth the word of God?