There is Shri Nathji going out of the house ever so frequently in a taxi to his two favourite spots – Connaught Place and Janpath, where his favourite shops and restaurants are located. He goes out and brings home all manner of gifts for the home group of devotees.“Ab bahut denaa hai duniyaan ko!These are the days when Smt. Veeran Devi is very ill and Shri Nathji calls the best doctors for her. Sudha also falls ill and there is Priya Nath doing the cooking for Shri Nathji.“I am greatly perturbed about the sorrows of the world. I am about to change the face of the world!”Shri Nathji dictates his poem in Urdu, ““Atthaa to Brahm jigyaasaa!O man develop a desire for God!Mujhe Pakrro KoyiKuchh sunaa tum ne ajab chaalen meri chaalaakiyaanHast thou ever heard of the lively games I play, fraught with cunning wiles,Kyaa mazaa ho, lo bhalaa daurro, mujhe Pakrro, mujhe pakrro koyiI am the Lord of all those intoxicated in Love!Seena zori aur chori, chherr chhaarr atthkeliyaanVain and imperious, and with a little thievery, I vex and tease,Khaa ke maakhan bhag gayaa, main bhag gayaa,Partaking of thy butter, I run away, I run away!Nat gayaa, vo nat gayaa, par nat ke jaayegaa kahaanOh, he has run away, he has run away! But where can he go?Haan, karorron aib, jurm, af-aal, nek aimaal zisht,Yes, millions of guiles, acts of oppression, goodness and righteousnessMaar denaa, jhoot baknaa, chori yaari aur sitamSlaying, duplicity, piracy, wanton friendship and tormentDasto paao gosho deedaa misle dastaanaa utaarThe physical form of hands and feet, ears and eyes, I remove, like gloves worn,Khudkashi karte hain sab kanoono tankiyaa jirhaaLaws, arguments and all of knowledge, end themselvesAi zameen ke baadshaaho pandito parhezgaaro,O thou kings, and pandits, and believers orthodox!Lo bataa dete hain tumko raaz khufiyaa aaj hamLet me tell you, myself, the secret that is hidden from all,Khwaa chori se khwaa yaari se khapaa letaa hoon mainThrough thievery, or through deceit, I take by force, Ye sitam yaaro hargiz bhee to main saih saktaa naheenThere is one hurt that I never can bear, O my friends,–Aate aate mujh talak main hee to tum ho jaaogeBy the time thou come to me, thou shall turn into ME,Here was the variegated face of God that existed in the world. A face that was apparent and hidden at the same time. The face of God, hiding Himself and revealing Himself at the same time. God, in all his creation and all his destruction, God, in all that is wicked and all that is good; God, playing with human feelings and emotions, creating a craving for Him in the hearts of men, running away and hiding Himself in turns, appearing and disappearing at will, answering prayers and becoming silent, being imperious and impious in turns, mocking the greatness and wealth of the world, laughing at its laws and orthodoxy–and finally taking away everything from man in the form of Death. Yo maam pashyati sarvatr mayi pashyatiHe who sees me in everything and everything in Me There is also God telling man of a hurt imposed upon Him, which He cannot bear – the hurt of being relegated to second place in the world. Indeed, if man gives place to anything or anyone else in his heart other than God, he shall be inevitably inviting a heartbreak. This is so because all persons and things in the world are perishable except God, and, therefore, the happiness associated with them is also perishable. There is only one imperishable in the world and that is God, and, therefore, it is in the interests of man to give the prime place in his heart only to God.