March 26, 1955
(Letter to Mother from Satprem)
Pondicherry, March 26, 1955
Mother, once more I come to ask you for Mahakali's1 intervention. After a period when everything seemed much better, I again awake to impossible mornings when I live badly, very badly, far from you, incapable of calling you and, what's more, of feeling your Presence or your help.
I don't know what mud is stirring about in me, but everything is obscured, and I cannot dissociate myself from these vital waves.
Mother, without Mahakali's grace, I shall never be able to get out of this mechanical round, to shatter these old formations, ever the same, which keep coming back. Mother, I beg of you, help, me to BREAK this shell in which I am suffocating. Deliver me from myself, deliver me in spite of myself. Alone, I am helpless; sometimes I cannot even call you! May your force come and burn all my impurities, shatter my resistances.
1 Mahakali: the eternal Mother in her warrior aspect, She who severs the heads of the demons.
2 Such was our old, meaningless name (except for its Germanic root: 'hard bear') until a certain March 3, 1957, when Mother named us Sat-prem ('the one who loves truly').