Priya Nath often felt Shri Nathji was just like a child, especially when he led him back and forth from the toilet. The sight of Shri Nathji deeply engrossed in the tying of his pyjama strings brought tears to Priya Nath’s eyes. How child-like, innocent, and helpless, Shri Nathji appeared in his old age and frail health. Priya Nath had often massaged Shri Nathji’s calves and feet, and his back and shoulders over his clothes, going up to the neck. “Piyaji zaraa si peethh aur kandhhe dabaa denaa.”“Piyaji, just massage the back and shoulders a little bit!”And every time Priya Nath would perform the massage over Shri Nathji’s shirt and sweater, Shri Nathji would be very grateful and praise Priya Nath, being concerned that Priya Nath may have tired himself. He would always say to Priya Nath: “Bas! Thhak mat jaanaa! Aankh si khul gayee hai!”“Enough–don’t tire yourself! The massage has put new light into the eyes!”Priya Nath took great delight in putting hair-oil on Shri Nathji’s head, and even combed his hair on occasion. Shri Nathji was like a big child in his hands, and Priya Nath found himself saying again and again: “I love him! O how I love my dearly, beloved Pitaji! I can’t live without him even for a moment!”