I only knew Maha for a short while. He was joined with my sister “Donna” in spiritual marriage in 2009. His presence was very calm and his laughter infectious. I know he “passed through” doing what meant alot to him. I was just blessed to have walked the same path with him for just a short while. His earthly presence will be missed by those who shared a connection with him. Continue on with your journey Maha…..
please note the correct date of Maharaji’s Urs is june 2 2012. He joyfully joined Pir Vilayat and Murshid at 10:15 am India time. He was faithfully attended by his beloved companions and Indian family Rashid Quereshi, his wife Zarina, Rashid’s mother Begum and his Indian grandaughter Chandsi. Many friends from the Hope Project and the village came to pay final respects and Maharaji was cremated at 4 pm Saturday June 2nd. Long time friend Carmen Hussain lit the funeral pyre as pundits chanted. Carmen told me it was a beautiful ceremony. She also said that on Friday Maharaji briefly opened his eyes saw her and said hello and gave her one of his big laughs. Heat was radiating from his soalr plexus and he was beautiful, Carmen felt he was preparing to leave. My beloved husaband has left a legacy of deep love and friendship to so many.
I have known ‘Masti’ for 37 years. We first met at the Abode in the days of Jacques, Sardar and Mahbud. He was always a joy to be around, and only got better over the years. The finest hours I spent with him were at Mahbud’s garage and home. (He was a tremendous support to Mahbud and his wife, Pat.) Beer was an essential element of the gatherings.
We’ll miss your wonderful presence and grand sense of humor, my friend.
Love ……. Ya salaam.
I first knew Maharaji in Philadelphia in the early 1970’s. He was my son’s godfather. I have always valued his unerring devotion to Hazrat Inayat Khan and his commitment to living “outside the system”. He was an idealist and I find inspiration in the way he carried through on his beliefs, even to the end. My children and I are deeply saddened by his death, he was a powerful presence.
( Letter written to Maharaji by Savitri before his passing)
Dear Maharaji,
Now that I’m finally getting to it, I can’t exactly remember why I wanted so very much to send you this print and poem. A dear friend set these words to music in a song I performed recently in a little stone church, very like the one in the painting, so these mean a lot to me.
When I heard you are going away for good, I felt sad and nostalgic and was reminded of so many Beloveds who have already departed. The list grows each year of course and there’s no stopping that steady process. Perhaps that was it, the procession of folks in the painting, leaving their cozy little church in the evening moonlight, floating homeward “ within a dream,” immersed in their silent introversions and devotions. They have that “look,” you know, “The Look.” It must have reminded me of The Abode and the camps.
You probably know the story of the small wooden ring bobbing on the surface of a vast ocean. A turtle swims up from the bottom and emerges for a breath of air with his neck through that ring. That, we were told, is how rare it is to find ones teacher in this life. But then what? That turtle feels pretty awestruck for a time, but his need to travel and feed eventually calls him back to familiar depths once again. Thus the years go by, the teacher has died and now it’s our turn.
There is a large group of us, we would be called a cohort in scientific terminology, traveling together with the amazing link of that moment when each of us felt that particular wooden ring resting buoyantly on our collarbones. When we were suddenly changed.
I am grateful, for you, fellow traveler, have loved as I have loved and lingered long beside that secret springing stream that flows toward the unknown sea. I will remember you with a broad smile, Maharaji Hess, El Magnifico!
from Savitri
Samuel Palmer’s
‘Coming from Evening Church’
Charles Causley
The heaven-reflecting, usual moon
Scarred by thin branched, flows between
The simple sky, its light half-gone,
The evening hills of risen green.
Safely below the mountain crest
A little clench of sheep holds fast.
The lean spire hovers like a mast
Over its hulk of leaves and moss
And those who, locked within a dream,
Make between church and cot their way
Beside the secret-springing stream
That turns towards an unknown sea;
and there is neither night nor day,
Sorrow nor pain, eternally.
URS Date: June 2, 2012
I only knew Maha for a short while. He was joined with my sister “Donna” in spiritual marriage in 2009. His presence was very calm and his laughter infectious. I know he “passed through” doing what meant alot to him. I was just blessed to have walked the same path with him for just a short while. His earthly presence will be missed by those who shared a connection with him. Continue on with your journey Maha…..
please note the correct date of Maharaji’s Urs is june 2 2012. He joyfully joined Pir Vilayat and Murshid at 10:15 am India time. He was faithfully attended by his beloved companions and Indian family Rashid Quereshi, his wife Zarina, Rashid’s mother Begum and his Indian grandaughter Chandsi. Many friends from the Hope Project and the village came to pay final respects and Maharaji was cremated at 4 pm Saturday June 2nd. Long time friend Carmen Hussain lit the funeral pyre as pundits chanted. Carmen told me it was a beautiful ceremony. She also said that on Friday Maharaji briefly opened his eyes saw her and said hello and gave her one of his big laughs. Heat was radiating from his soalr plexus and he was beautiful, Carmen felt he was preparing to leave. My beloved husaband has left a legacy of deep love and friendship to so many.
Maharaji will be missed and remembered fondly by all who knew him even for a moment.
I have known ‘Masti’ for 37 years. We first met at the Abode in the days of Jacques, Sardar and Mahbud. He was always a joy to be around, and only got better over the years. The finest hours I spent with him were at Mahbud’s garage and home. (He was a tremendous support to Mahbud and his wife, Pat.) Beer was an essential element of the gatherings.
We’ll miss your wonderful presence and grand sense of humor, my friend.
Love ……. Ya salaam.
I first knew Maharaji in Philadelphia in the early 1970’s. He was my son’s godfather. I have always valued his unerring devotion to Hazrat Inayat Khan and his commitment to living “outside the system”. He was an idealist and I find inspiration in the way he carried through on his beliefs, even to the end. My children and I are deeply saddened by his death, he was a powerful presence.
( Letter written to Maharaji by Savitri before his passing)
Dear Maharaji,
Now that I’m finally getting to it, I can’t exactly remember why I wanted so very much to send you this print and poem. A dear friend set these words to music in a song I performed recently in a little stone church, very like the one in the painting, so these mean a lot to me.
When I heard you are going away for good, I felt sad and nostalgic and was reminded of so many Beloveds who have already departed. The list grows each year of course and there’s no stopping that steady process. Perhaps that was it, the procession of folks in the painting, leaving their cozy little church in the evening moonlight, floating homeward “ within a dream,” immersed in their silent introversions and devotions. They have that “look,” you know, “The Look.” It must have reminded me of The Abode and the camps.
You probably know the story of the small wooden ring bobbing on the surface of a vast ocean. A turtle swims up from the bottom and emerges for a breath of air with his neck through that ring. That, we were told, is how rare it is to find ones teacher in this life. But then what? That turtle feels pretty awestruck for a time, but his need to travel and feed eventually calls him back to familiar depths once again. Thus the years go by, the teacher has died and now it’s our turn.
There is a large group of us, we would be called a cohort in scientific terminology, traveling together with the amazing link of that moment when each of us felt that particular wooden ring resting buoyantly on our collarbones. When we were suddenly changed.
I am grateful, for you, fellow traveler, have loved as I have loved and lingered long beside that secret springing stream that flows toward the unknown sea. I will remember you with a broad smile, Maharaji Hess, El Magnifico!
Savitri
from Savitri
Samuel Palmer’s
‘Coming from Evening Church’
Charles Causley
The heaven-reflecting, usual moon
Scarred by thin branched, flows between
The simple sky, its light half-gone,
The evening hills of risen green.
Safely below the mountain crest
A little clench of sheep holds fast.
The lean spire hovers like a mast
Over its hulk of leaves and moss
And those who, locked within a dream,
Make between church and cot their way
Beside the secret-springing stream
That turns towards an unknown sea;
and there is neither night nor day,
Sorrow nor pain, eternally.