That year in April 1973 when Shri Nathji left Nagpur, the railway platform was filled with a swarm of men, women and children, weeping.
On the day Shri Nathji was to leave the city, many a person felt as if his very soul were leaving the body. Separation from Shri Nathji appeared to be an impossible thing to endure.
As the train left the railway station, and Shri Nathji stood at the window, the people raced after the train, trying to catch a last glimpse of God departing from them in human form. The son of Tara Buty, Shri Prakash Buty, appeared to be lost in the receding form of Shri Nathji and had nothing else before his eyes.
Before leaving Nagpur, Shri Nathji had hired a bungalow there–as an assurance to the people of his eventual return. Had it not been for this, many a heart would have broken, never to be mended again. It was this promise that was to keep many of his devotees alive. For Mrs. Bhutt, who had moved to Nagpur, this was to remain the last anchor of her life–this promise that Shri Nathji would return one day. The rented Bungalow was to remain as a source of consolation for her. There was Ghalib’s verse:
Tere vaade par jeeye ham to ye jaan jhooth jaanaa
Ke khushi se mar na jaate agar aitbaar hotaa
We lived upon thy promise knowing it to be false–
For would we not have died with joy had we known it to be true?