It is impossible to follow this game of Wine because it gives rise to such abnormal situations which are beyond our intellect. From the mind's point of view, things are both good and bad; but from the spiritual viewpoint, good and bad have their place only in the darkness of illusion. Only by crossing both these limits can one gain the dazzling light. To destroy good sanskaras, bad sanskaras are needed. In the process, if any objectionable action is committed (Ali's behavior is an example) it is considered "bad" in the eyes of the world. In the same way, to dissipate bad sanskaras, good sanskaras are acquired.
Even to contemplate such things is useless, as no one knows about his own sanskaras, and only after surrenderance to a Sadguru is the right path found. For this reason, the relationship between the lover and the Beloved is incomprehensible, because to the intellect some things are favorable and some are not, where in fact there is no such thing as "good" and "bad" in the spiritual field.
Age reminds the world, "One cannot judge the results of Baba's work with the Prem Ashram boys, because the outcome may not manifest in this birth or in the next, but after several births. But one thing is certain: Once lit, the fire of love is never extinguished. The wind may diffuse its heat, but the heat of a raging fire one day engulfs the wind! The intoxicated ones in the Beloved's Tavern will assuredly still the winds of maya — it is for this that the Beloved has prepared them."
The following is Ramjoo's vivid description of the Persian boy Ali Akbar:
The intensity of Ali Akbar's love toward the Master is unique. None can come to the intense level of his highly active love, which always keeps him on the stir [restless]. He is seldom seen in one place for long or sitting calmly.
When [Ali Akbar] first joined Meher Ashram, he used to be quite disinterested in discussions about love [for God] and spirituality. He would not only show open disinclination for divinity [divine experiences], but used to fight shy of all such subjects, and would remain as aloof as possible from meditation and concentration. But at the first exit of Aga Ali, the hero, Ali Akbar became all of a sudden surcharged with the divine grace of the Master. He began to roll and reel in the dust, quite literally, as a fish just out of water, till he would come into the Master's contact, whom he would try to enfold in his little arms as furiously as a moth tries to devour the lamp.1
Footnotes
- 1.Ramjoo Abdulla, Sobs and Throbs, (Ramjoo's Diaries Sufism Reoriented: Walnut Creek, 1979), p. 530.