During the past several months, Baba's feet had changed and become as hard as stone. The skin had become so thick that a sharp needle would not penetrate the skin. The result of his work had severely affected his legs and feet, and his body had grown weak. Still, Baba would hide the true state of his health from even the mandali and appear, although extremely tired, as if his health were stable enough to perhaps improve.
Before settling in his chair, Baba would walk up and down the hall, Kaka walking beside him like a protective guard. Kaka continued to provide Baba with moments of entertainment and merriment at such times when he would mispronounce or misname objects and people, using his "new" language with supreme confidence.
More than once, Baba remarked, "While everybody adds to my burden, Kaka removes a fraction of it."
Baba would be most particular about the exact time, and would always leave the hall at the appointed time (11 A.M.), no matter how keenly he would appear to be listening to a discussion that had arisen, or to some articles or news items being read out. He never failed to keep an eye on the wall clock.
One day, referring to the present state of the world, Baba bemoaned, "A big mess! Of all my advents, in the present one, I am exercising my patience to the utmost."
On another occasion, he remarked to the mandali: "You are all nothing but broken-down furniture! But it is I who have selected you, so you must be what I want."
In Australia, a young artist named William Reading had first heard of Meher Baba in 1966, when he was 19. After reading all the literature he could find about Baba, he eventually went to Bill Le Page's meetings and saw some films of Baba. Soon afterwards he became friends with a young Englishman, who had ridden a bicycle from England across Europe and Asia to Australia. Through his new friend, Reading was inspired to get his first job after leaving art school and to travel to India in the hopes of seeing Baba, even though he was advised that Baba was in strict seclusion.