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It was January 19, 1978. Shri Nathji was going towards Nagpur again. The yearning of the devotees was drawing him to these regions again.
I am going there with this aging body of mine, not to take anything from them, but to give freely of myself!” said Shri Nathji on the G. T. Express carrying him there. His Persian verse echoed in the moving train:

Sarv kadaa chamaan chamaan bar labe joo ravaan ravaan
Farshe rahe to kumriyaan taalaye shaan bapaa kushaa

Tall as the Cyprus, walk thou by the banks of the streams of the world;
Let thy floor be the mended fates of those who love thee so.

Even if a few thousand persons come to me–so what? There is the entire world left. Maharashtra shall become my citadel! said Shri Nathji.
Passing through Betul, Shri Nathji remembered Bhutt Sahib and sent his blessings to the departed soul. Here in Betul, Bhutt Sahib had been a sub-judge in 1944, and had gone to Lahore for Shri Nathji’s darshan during the days of the Christmas vacation, along with a host of his friends, which included Khaskalam, the public prosecutor there, who lost his bedroll in transit and later found it sent to his home miraculously.