The return home in Vijay Kapahi’s jeep was uneventful. Pitaji made me sleep throughout. He was now looking after me each and every moment like a loving mother.“Ab to sach much Prabhuji chale gaye!Up to the time He had been with us in His body we had scarcely felt the loss. His body had brought us immense comfort and Peace. But now that even the Body was gone, it appeared as if He had really gone.O PITIJI, PLEASE SAVE US.Yet, it appeared as if the House was still vibrant with his Presence. He had not gone – He had merely changed His Form – from the visible to the Invisible.“Ye shareer hee to naheen miltaa! Aur vo bhee itni sundar Moorti jo dil ko ek dam shaant kar de! Niraakaar to hameshaan saath hai.“It is this body that is so rare! And what a beautiful body – one that instantly brings peace to the mind. The Invisible is always with us.”Pitaji was Divine Beauty personified. People had never seen Rama and Krishna, but those who had seen Shri Nathji knew what the Avatars of old must have looked like.“Rajuji aapko der ho gayi, aane men. Prabhuji chale gaye!“Rajuji, you arrived late. Prabhuji has gone!”How Pitaji would have welcomed Raju Tanksale had He still been in His body. He had never forgotten the ‘phulkaas’ – the ‘chappaatis’ – that Raju had cooked for Him in 1979 at Nagpur. This service to Shri Nathji was the greatest earning of Raju’s life.O PITAJI, THOU ART THE LIFE OF MY LIFE – THOU THE LIGHT OF MY LIGHT – THOU THE SOUL OF MY SOUL.O Pitaji Thou hadst said to me: “Piyaji you are part and parcel of my SOUL – WE ARE ONE!”O PITAJI, I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT THEE. TAKE ME SOON TO WHEREVER THOU ART – UNDESERVING THOUGH I BE – THE GREATEST SINNER UPON EARTH.Once again I asked the devotees to go on weeping and to not to restrain their tears, for we were weeping for a God of Love who had left His bodily frame. I quoted the Urdu Verse of Pitaji:“Ham rone pe aayen to dariyaa hi bahaa daalen,“Let us shed rivers of tears if weep we must,The enormity of the event began to come to me but slowly. Those days of cough and fever, the increasing weakness, the inability to swallow–the varied opinion of doctors, my laxity, my mistakes, commissions and omissions–had led to this. “When someone wrote with a pen on a blank sheet of paper, the paper blamed the ink for the writing upon it; the ink said it was the doing of the pen; the pen said it was the work of the hand; the hand said it was controlled by the mind; and the mind was controlled by consciousness which had been given by God. Thus ultimately whatever happened was the Will of God.”Knowing Pitaji’s reaction to tears of devotion, I could hear His voice saying:“Main har aansoo ko moti banaa doongaa!“I shall convert every teardrop into a pearl!”And then I entered the house for the first time without my Dear Pitaji. The big room and the bedroom seemed filled with His Presence, but there was no sound of His comforting voice calling out to me: “Piyaji…”