16 May 1969
My dear Sufi Ahmed Murad Chisty,
Thank you for your letter. And for your writings in Oracle, it was excellent and many others have said so too.
As you requested I am sending my Githas, these are all the Githas I have. I find them excellent and should not have kept them so long, though I have long ago given them also to S___ and H___.
As you do not request, I am nevertheless sending you my Sangithas, and instead of boring you with my reasons for not sending these to any one but you, I should like you to tell me what my reasons were and see if we think in unison upon these points. The later numbers, from 13 or 14 and on are all right, but 11 and 12 and specially 11 should, I think, not go anywhere outside you and myself. Why? You tell me now, and I shall reply and comment.
There is an interesting sidelight about these githas and Sangithas. A year ago I did not have either. Then one day suddenly the Githas were there, in a pile. I sent them to Sitara who was delighted and made me copies. Then you wrote about some gitas or things. Then I had a new heap: The Sangithas. Never had them before. So therefore it is right to send them to you. And hear your opinion.
In 1923, in the Australian desert I was lunching with Charlie, my boss. We were digging wells. During the hard work I was meditating. I had a question in my mind. I thought, where can I find the answer here in the desert? Then my eyes were jerked upward and I saw, out on the sand plain, a leaf or something bopping along in the light breeze. It came closer. It jumped right up into my lap. It was page out of book. It had been rounded and filed against the sand. There was just enough print left to explain exactly what I had been asking. And I thought: My poor invisible teacher, having to deal with such a thickskulled pupil he had to bounce printed matter into his lap rather than sneaking it in through my mind. But the Githas and some of the Sangithas came into my mind before the heap materialized.