In supplement to the seven orders that had been issued at the outset, each day brought new orders further restricting the men's usual habits of sleeping, eating, bathing and enjoying themselves. No individual had any free time to do what he liked. The least mistake invited hours of the Master's abuse and displeasure. It was a general order that no one should read, write to, or talk with anyone outside of the Manzil. Even the casual reading of a billboard or sign while passing in a train or bus was prohibited. Should a chance meeting of an old friend take place, conversation was forbidden. These unusual orders led to many awkward situations for all concerned.
For example, one evening while Sarosh was traveling back to the Manzil from the garage where he was employed learning automobile mechanics, he happened to see an old acquaintance on the train. The young man had gone to school with Sarosh, and he greeted him with a happy smile. Sarosh, obeying Baba's order, did not reply. He ignored the person and even turned his face away and stared out the window. The youngster thought he had been mistaken, but after closer observation he was certain that it was his old friend. "Sarosh, what's the matter with you?" he inquired. "Don't you recognize me?" Sarosh felt extremely embarrassed, but kept quiet, hoping the situation would soon pass.
The boy again called out, "Sarosh, are you mad? Look at me, for God's sake!" Still not receiving a reply, the boy was saddened and started telling the other passengers that his old friend had gone insane! At the Manzil, Sarosh narrated the whole incident to Baba, who then ordered him to write his friend inviting him to the Manzil. Sometime later the youngster visited and was quite relieved and happy to know that Sarosh was his normal self. He was permitted to visit on different occasions. Thus, as a result of his friendship with Sarosh, he had the Master's darshan occasionally.
The same thing happened to Adi. Adi was attending classes at Sydenham College during the day, and Baba had instructed him to keep notes of all his thoughts and conversations with any other passengers during the six-mile train journey to and from school. Adi therefore had to be careful of what he thought, for when Baba would read his notes, he would comment, "Don't you have any better things to think about than this?" Thus, Adi kept his mind preoccupied with thoughts of God, even when out of Baba's presence.
Another order was not to speak with any previous acquaintance. Adi related, "If I came across any old friends on the train, I was not supposed to talk to that person at all. One day I was traveling on the train, and one of my old friends from school saw me. He came and sat right before me. He called me, but I turned my face away. He got so irritated he almost started abusing me. Eventually he walked away. He got off at a later station, but it was embarrassing for me." Such were the orders the young men of Manzil-e-Meem had to follow.
One night, after conversing with the mandali as usual after dinner, Baba ordered all to go to their respective rooms to sleep. The mandali dispersed. Some went to wash their faces, some began conversing with each other, and Rustom and Faredoon went outside to the urinal. Baba had the gong sounded, summoning everyone again. He asked each what they were doing and then said, "Why did you break my order?"