A few weeks after his experience climbing a Stupa (read more here!), Jai traveled to the northern Indian city of Allahabad, where the Khumba Melas are held. The Maharaj-ji was rumored to be visiting there, soon.
Jai told me the story, “By that time, I was broke. My girlfriend had broken up with me. I’d had dysentery. I was alone and depressed. Every day, I would go to the place where Maharaj-ji was supposed to be, but he never came. I had one of those, ‘Why the heck did I come to India’ moments.’ Here I am, crashing on the floor of this little apartment with a bunch of people I don’t know.”
“Then one night, I have this dream. I’m at the Allahabad train station, all by myself, waiting for a train. There’s no one else on the platform. A train arrives and the only person on the train, steps off. It’s the Maharaj-ji, with a blanket wrapped around him, like he always wore. He wraps his arms tightly around me as I’m weeping and weeping. ‘Finally, you’ve come back to me,’ he says. ‘Finally, you’ve come back to me’.”
“It was such a profound dream that I woke up. It was 1:20am.”
“The next morning, I realize that the Maharaj-ji has been my protector and my savior, lifetime after lifetime, but I’m still not exactly sure what this means. I go to the same house I’ve been going to for weeks, and everyone is dead silent. I asked, ‘What happened?’ ”
“The Maharaj-ji came early this morning. He arrived at 1:20 am by himself on the Allahabad Express and called us from the station to pick him up..”
Jai pauses, looking me in the eye across the Skype screen. “That was the exact time of my dream.”