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And there was Atmaram Godbole–the man whose mission in life had become the making of hand-written copies of “Zahoore Haqueeqat” and who heard the voice of Shri Babaji Maharaj dictating the book to him–singing in gasps, as asthma racked his body:

“Duniyaan ke sitam se khaaye huye
Tere daraaz par aa baithe

Torn by the sufferings of the world
We came and sat at thy door.”

It was a beautiful song. Everywhere there was the world and its multi-coloured faces. God was only where Shri Nathji was. The gardens of the world contained only flowers. He was not there. The temples contained only the idols of God, but did not contain Him. The mahatmas, holy men, saints and sages, pandits, and maulvis had only knowledge to give. God was not there. They showed the path leading to God, but they did not reveal God. And in the end, there was this one door–the door of Shri Nathji–where his devotees came and sat, tired of the storms of life. And there, they found Him–God.
Godbole also sang with feeling:

“Nathji ne aaj meraa dil churaa liyaa
Duniyaan ke parde men khud ko chhupaa liyaa

Nathji has robbed me of my heart,
And has hidden himself behind the veil of the world.”

As he sang in a soulful voice, gasping with asthma, his eight year old son sang with him. Both the father and the son had tears in their eyes as they prostrated before Shri Nathji.
It was a wondrous sight for the world of devotion. Indeed, it was the faith of such devotees that proved the existence of God.
Some of the highest philosophies of the world were being made manifest in the bhajans that these simple folk sang. For them these were not mere songs but a reality that filled their lives.
As these waves and vibrations of spiritual feelings filled the atmosphere, the people assembled found themselves in a new world.