Thus it was that Shri Nathji spent his days in solitude, foregoing all public appearances and speeches. Only genuine seekers after truth sought him out. Even his neighbours were not aware of the grand personality living next door to them. The doors and windows of Shri Nathji’s house would be shut. The iron gate would be locked. The house would wear a barren, deserted look. But within it would be God in human form, shut in from the rest of the world.
As Mrs. Bhutt was fond of saying: “The lock on Shri Nathji’s door means that he has said ‘get out’ to the proud and arrogant people of the world!”
Shri Nathji’s sight had gradually weakened to such an extent that he could not walk without help. Priya Nath escorted him by the arm whenever he went out.
Time is passing by, and the world lies in wait, Priya Nath said to Shri Nathji, and you are spending all your time within these locked doors!
As if in resonance to the thought, letters and telegrams began pouring in from Nagpur. The devotees there were thirsty for his darshan. Shri Nathji had not gone to Nagpur since 1949. Now it was 1973. The devotees at Nagpur performed a ceremony-paathh in which they chanted the name of Shri Nathji in succession, for hours on end. The call of these thirsty souls reached Shri Nathji and moved him. It was like the awakening of Lord Shankar.