... to my most beloved Babaji and Ammaji...
They were inseparable in life.
While Ammaji waited an excruciating 14 years, 5 months and 4 days on October 1st, 1994 before joining him again, for all the eternity, they are once again together and I hope, happy and smiling just like when we were all together.

This scholarship was created to award $1000 to a student per year in hopes for continuing Babaji and Ammaji's legacy.  Even if just one of these students serves the community free of charge once they become doctors, this whole effort will have been worth everything.

It is because of the sacrifices my Babaji Ammaji and Papa Mummy made, that I am able to make this tiny effort to carry on their legacy.

This is the first rose blooming in our garden potted in a flower pot that Mummy painted...

I remember Babaji used to love growing roses, marigold and so many other flowers.  He would water them every evening and would know if someone had plucked a flower.

While so many in our family remember him as having hot temper but I never experienced it.  I don't ever remember seeing him angry except one time.  He used to go on his bike some distance to bring milk every day and probably Ammaji, worrying about a fall, said that perhaps we should get it from someplace closer.  She may have said it enough times to make him very angry and he threw the lota down on the ground!  But never before or after have I seen him even raise his voice.

He loved me more than anything... he loved his little garden... he loved his life with Ammaji and four of us.  Who would have imagined that we would be so far apart when the end came and that he would suffer so?  Why would God cause such pain to two people who did so much for so many and never harmed anyone and lived such a simple life?

This rose is dedicated to their memory...

Even under those circumstances when they were most unhappy, most unwell and away for everything they ever loved, away from us... they remembered our special days and rarely let us see their tears.

I am forever grateful to them and treasure their memories.

Babaji sent me this letter on my birthday in 1979.  The last one...He regretted that all he could do is to send me verbal wishes... 

What else could I wish for??  He was severely ill at that time but still always remembered all of our birthdays and constantly worried about us and our feelings and our well being....  Never complained once or let us see how sad he was - they both were for leaving Meerut.  He, who never even asked anyone for a glass of water in his entire life, now had to look to others for everything and had to leave his beloved meerut!  

All because we were not there - in those last few months when he needed us. Who could have imagined so much will have happened within the 3 years time!?!

What I wouldn't give to see him in my dream on my birthday...
I don't see him often - though I think of him always.
He gave me everything.. more love than anyone can ever ask for...

I was probably just 3 or 4 but the memory is as fresh as ever...

Babaji (and Ammaji followed) gave up his life in helping others with his free Homeopathic clinic.  He, even though he was an attorney by profession, spent more time in his clinic and paying home visits to people than he did at the court.  He never lied, never did anything wrong.  In fact, I remember that once probably in 10th grade I found out that one of the exam papers was being printed at a press where one of Babaji's friends worked and I dared ask Babaji to see if he could get a copy.  Babaji would do anything for me; even give his life for me - but he would not condone such dishonesty.  I am sure that I disappointed him that day.

I did not get the paper.  But he loved me until the end just the way he did when he first held me in his arms.

So why would such a person suffer so much in the end?  Why couldn't he get one wish he had - of seeing us again?  Why was he to suffer with children like us who did not do one thing he asked us to do regarding Ammaji?  And more than anything else, why would such a person have to write a letter like this one?  He wrote it to me on July 27th 1979 when I was insisting that I wanted to go and see him.  As much as he wanted to see me, he would not hear of me coming in the middle of my schooling here in US..  Why did he have to write a litter like this and suffer the worst thing one can ever have to suffer with - of becoming dependent on others?

Why?  They were both innocent people.  Why would God allow such suffering for them?  They still, until the end, believed firmly in God and believed in us; and loved us.

I didn't write as often in 1979 and made my Babaji Ammaji very sad. I thought I had all the time in the world to be with them...

I was wrong..

I am filled with so much sadness... How could I have become so self-involved?

Being young is not an excuse.  They gave us all the love they had and what did we give in return?

We gave them tears.... when we left them thinking three years was not a long time.
It lasted forever...

Babaji loved roses!  He used to love babying them.  It was his routine to water them and take care of them after he returned from court every day.  
Here's a rose for you, Babaji and Ammaji from your Gudya.

I sit here and try to picture what it would have been like if Papa Mummy had sent me back to Babaji Ammaji. I can imagine that they would have forgotten all the sadness and probably still couldn't sleep, but now for a happy reason. I try to picture me getting out of the car that brought me from the airport back to my home at 152 Vijaynagar. Both Babaji and Ammaji would have been waiting for me impatiently.  We, three of us, would have cried and laughed all at once. I am sure that he may have been able to keep well for few more years. I am convinced that the stress of losing us was what that brought on so many health problems and eventual death. 

If only...

Babaji wrote me this letter only a month and 21 days after we left them to come to the States. Someone had told him that in the US in order to get admitted to a university,  the student has to prove self-sufficiency and be able to afford the full college years without any help from parents. He became very worried and wrote to both Papa and me to have me return home. 

Babaji could not bear the thought of any of us being in any trouble,  especially me. He loved me more than life itself. I wish I had gone back. 

I had the good fortune of having been photographed with my Maji.
It is the lone photo I have.  Thanks to Papa Mummy for saving it.

Maji -- to Shailu -- to Mom and Dad.

Hope you like your temple, Babaji, Ammaji...

... that Babaji gave me.  Mummy is holding the phoolghari and I am holding the box...
There was always an infinite supply of Phoolghari on Diwali.  Every time we thought that it was the last box, Babaji would come up with a brand new one.  Just one of many happy childhood memories...

Papa went to see Babaji at Dehradun after he fell seriously ill in 1979.  He had cancer but when doctors tried to operate on him, they could not as it had spread too far.  After that he had to close his free Homeopathic clinic that he had operated for over 50 years, and say goodbye to their beloved Meerut where they had planned to live and wait for our return from US.  I believe that the stress of being without us caused him to have multiple physical issues almost as we left India in 1977.  His heart was broken.  In my entire 17+ years of life I had never seen him sick - unless Ammaji was away for a day or two - which was very rare.

I feel that we shouldn't have left them at that stage in his life.  He was 79 then and that's when they both needed us the most.  We did not do right by them.  Though I supposed it is hard for me to blame Papa Mummy for this as declining the offer to come to States for 3 years would have been very difficult.  But we should not have...

Babaji was always very protective of his little garden of roses and Tulsi.
This garden is dedicated to Ammaji, Babaji, Mummy and Papa.

When we left Babaji and Ammaji to come to the States, we thought we would be together again in 3 years time.  I did not know that it would be the last time when we were together.  Last thing he said to me was "Beti, Baba ko bhool mut jana".  May be for a while I was distracted and didn't think of the two of them as much.  Now I wonder how that was possible.  If Mummy hadn't been so ill, all things would have turned out differently.  

I hope they know that I think of them most of the time and that they are always in my heart.

So though we didn't celebrate Father's day or Mother's day while I was growing up, today I send some balloons for them and hope that they know...

They always show me the right way whenever I need it and always somewhere nearby whenever I wonder what I should do.