As 1971 had dawned upon Shri Nathji and the month of March was upon them, Shri Nathji and Priya Nath discussed where to go for the coming summer. There was trouble in Mussoorie from the agents of evil that kept up a perpetual war against Shri Nathji, trying to usurp his property there. The caretaker at Mussoorie told Shri Nathji to not to come to Mussoorie that summer for the sake of his security. Though Shri Nathji was disposed to go as he could not be frightened by any man’s threat, yet Priya Nath could not take the risk. The agents of evil would even use young children to cause incalculable loss to Shri Nathji, as from the throwing of stones. This had happened in 1969 when Shri Nathji was there, and Priya Nath wished to keep Shri Nathji away from such surroundings for a while.
On the physical plane, Priya Nath would often complain to Shri Nathji that he had seen only one hill station in India and that was Mussoorie, whilst Shri Nathji had, in his youth, toured practically all the hill stations of the time, from Mussoorie to Naini Tal, Simla, Dalhousie, Kohmurree, Darjeeling, and Shillong.
Shri Nathji suggested going to Dalhousie for the summer months. He had known a certain Rai Bahadur Sohan Lal in 1928, in Dalhousie, and the man had remained devoted to Shri Nathji for years afterwards.
Priya Nath wrote to him, but received a letter soon thereafter that Rai Bahadur Sohan Lal was no longer in the world. The man who wrote the letter was a certain Shri Mahajan who was a property dealer in Dalhousie.
He gave the address of a certain lady, Mrs. Sadhu Ram Chaudhri in Delhi, who lived in Friend’s Colony, and who had a house in Dalhousie which was for rent. Shri Mahajan wrote to Mrs. Chaudhri also asking her to get in touch with Priya Nath Mehta.
Priya Nath spoke to Mrs. Chaudhri on the phone and agreed to take her house in Dalhousie on rent.
Mrs. Chaudhri came to Shri Nathji’s residence at Sarvodya Enclave in Delhi to collect the cheque from Priya Nath. She had no idea who Shri Nathji was. She saw him for a brief moment in the house, and that was all. But some hidden chord in her soul was touched. She had been a genuine seeker after truth. After the passing away of her husband she had frequented almost all the saints India had to offer–but her soul remained ever thirsty, ever unsatiated.
While Priya Nath was making out a cheque to Mrs. Chaudhri for one thousand rupees she sat on an arm chair in the room and looked at Shri Nathji.
The beauty and glory on his face were astonishing. She assumed he was a very big Maharaja, but did not ask any questions. She took the cheque and left the house. When she reached home, her son, who was an army officer, asked her whether she had give the key to the new tenant. Mrs. Chaudhri had forgotten.
She wondered what kind of persons she had met. They had been so good and innocent. They had paid the rent, they had not asked for any receipt and they had not even demanded the key of the house in Dalhousie! No, she must not be unfair with such good people. And with this thought in her mind she rushed back to Shri Nathji’s house.
This time when she entered the drawing room she found a man lying in prostration before Shri Nathji. She was surprised. No one prostrated before Rajas and Maharajas. Perhaps Shri Nathji was something else. She appeared to understand that from within her heart, and instantly sat down upon the ground. She gave the key to Priya Nath.
Who is your father? she asked Priya Nath, and, upon discovering who he was, she immediately fell at Shri Nathji feet.