On the cusp of commencing a documentary project and attending international seminars in 2002, I stumbled upon a book titled “Sounds of Silence”. In spite of being surrounded by papers, checklists, presentations, CDs, and flash drives at the time, it took me just one night to read it, end-to-end. Drawn by the power of prose and struck by the sensitivity of the subject, I felt compelled to connect with its author, Nan Umrigar. As every attempt and (potential) lead turned towards a dead end, I made peace with the prospect of adding her to my people-I-would-like-to-know list and turned to the next chapter of my life – Athens, Greece.

You can purchase a copy of Nan’s book by clicking here.

Still in the early years of my career, I was getting to grips with criticism and stingy feedback from content consumers that reflected in comments certain audience members shared after my presentation in Athens. Broody, I decided to eat lunch alone until a woman from London offered to share a table. Sensing my somber mood, she promptly took out a card from her bag with an image of a saint-like man that said, “Don’t worry, be happy!” I nearly broke into tears at the serendipity of the moment!

The man on the card turned out to be Meher Baba, the same spiritual leader mentioned repeatedly in Nan’s book, “Sounds of Silence”.

“Do you happen to know Nan Umrigar?”, I asked.

“No, but I might know someone in London who does”.

There was an email with Nan’s contact details from London-based Anita Ramchandani in my inbox as soon as I returned to India. She lived in Pune, so I made a phone call. Much to my surprise, she happened to be visiting Mumbai that very day, so we met over lunch. I think it’s obvious by this point that she did all the talking, reminiscing Karl and his ‘unique’ appearances!

A Chance Encounter

I have for long believed in the existence of another world – the ‘other side’, if you will – coexisting with our own and tried to project my beliefs backed by rationality on television. Producers and broadcasters, however, preferred a different treatment to suit consumer behavior that had left creators like me upset and disappointed, often. I was working on a paranormal show for a Mumbai-based channel at the time and suggested Nan’s story after meeting her, but it got turned down. Typical, I told myself. Nan and I remained in touch though. I was hooked to her story like fish to bait.

The following year, a London-based channel gave me a contract to produce ten human-interest stories from across India. I squeezed Nan’s story in and got a conditional approval; there was to be no religious or spiritual connotation which meant I had to leave Meher Baba out. I was desperate but caught in a creative muddle.

How can one possibly make a movie without its hero?

I accepted the challenge and filmed for an entire day at Nan’s residence in Pune, an experience that continues to stay fresh in my memory nearly 20 years to the day. It was tranquil, almost. Not a single person on my team felt the pressures associated with a standard television production that made for a rather peaceful, smooth, and fulfilling experience. When the entire lot of stories was sent to London, this received the best feedback from the channel’s team and its viewers! We were thrilled!

Meanwhile, Anita Ramchandani was scheduled to pay a visit to Mumbai, so we decided to meet after exchanging innumerable emails and phone calls. I was quite fond of making spontaneous and unplanned trips, but Anita had another thing in store. She had planned to take me to Meherabad! I knew nothing about Meherabad or Meher Baba beyond Nan’s book but went along anyway.

Epiphanies on the Road

I have a perplexing habit of ‘speaking’ to spiritual leaders by asking them questions and demanding answers as any rational, thinking human would ask another and strangely, picking up on ‘signs’ and ‘messages’ they send my way in key moments becomes a torch in moments of darkness.

“Why have you summoned me here? I know nothing about you!”, I asked Baba while sitting at his samadhi and walked away.

The next morning, all the visitors lodged at the pilgrim centre were taken to Meherazad, Baba’s home and shown a screen preview of a film being made on him. Larger than life, as I remember. I got an answer overnight and spent the next few hours on the road but in a distant, faraway land, contemplating, processing, in my mind.

Although as life would have it, I soon forgot about him until an opportunity in Puerto Rico beckoned.

Destiny sometimes has weird ways of taking one’s life in myriad directions. I was invited for a conference titled “Alliance for New Humanity” by Deepak Chopra to make a presentation with Ricky Martin and Betty Williams. Coordination, however, was being led by a man named Arsenio Rodrigues. I once remember dialing him and was about to leave a message when his voice signed off with “Jai Baba” that left me quite confused.

Meeting Arsenio almost felt home-like and one can almost imagine the astonished look my face after knowing how frequently he visits India, particularly a place I stayed in not too long ago myself – Meherabad. A devout follower, Arsenio placed his faith in Baba to help make matters as smooth as possible before going on to organize the conference. Putting together a global event in a place like Puerto Rico was, of course, a mean feat. I returned home impressed and convinced but, as luck and life would have it yet again, I soon forgot all about it and Baba until another opportunity came along a year later.

A friend asked if I had a film to submit to a spiritual festival taking place in the United States. I mulled over the idea for a few days until ingenuity struck and decided to re-use footage of Nan in Pune and shoot some more, as backup. That the rules this time around were a lot more flexible than a television channel worked directly in my favor. I could finally feature Baba himself. But Nan warned me to secure necessary permissions to film at select locations in Meherabad.

All it took was one week.

A Night of Wonder

I started preparations in the same way as my other films. This couldn’t be longer than ten minutes, tops, I thought, that any standard endeavor would take just a day, maybe two, to complete, so it felt wise to invest in the project with personal funds. My friend, however, threw a spanner in our efforts by informing me that any submission ought to be at least 20 minutes. Stubborn as I was (and always have been), I kept pushing. The next logical step was to know more about the man himself, Meher Baba.

Up until this point in my career, I have had a fair share of experiences rubbing shoulders with the ‘other side’. One could call them close encounters, almost, and an unshakeable faith in their abilities to influence our material, sensory world has helped guide my own path as a filmmaker. In hindsight, the making of this film was arguably a series of similar ‘close encounters’, including what happened next.

I was invited to a business dinner by an acquaintance the following week. Conversations and wine consumed the entire evening while I remained deeply engaged in what was seemingly endless banter with a fellow attendee. As I got into her car for a lift, three pictures of Meher Baba stared at me all together from her dashboard(!), takeaways from her former marriage into a family that followed Meher Baba. Our conversation over Meher Baba quickly shifted from her car to her apartment one block away from mine. It seemed uncanny and purely coincidental at the time but in hindsight, such a bizarre chain of events was all starting to make sense. My apprehensions were confirmed as I stepped into her apartment only to be greeted by a life-size portrait of baba himself with roving eyes.

I felt like I was being watched but left that night with my heart full and arms loaded with half a dozen books written on Baba by her father-in-law, a professor and writer living near the samadhi in Meherabad. Here was all the information I needed to understand the who’s, what’s, why’s, and when’s of the film!

But there was one pressing question… how will it be funded?

“Drop your doubts at his feet and ask him to take care of it”, I was told.

Visualizing ‘Love’

Through her books, appearances, and direct experiences, Nan Umrigar had become known as a respected authority and a name to reckon with Meher Baba. The following morning, she called me with a list of names and numbers of people who had approached her for making a film on Baba in the hope of exchanging a few ideas. One of the gentlemen in question, Mr. Suresh V. Dagur, was due to leave for Hong Kong that very night but graciously spent a few minutes over coffee to discuss my project.

I had found a producer.

We had secured funding, permissions, gathered a team, and commenced work. Throughout the brainstorming stage, messages from Karl and Baba himself kept coming to us from different sources, asking us to keep ‘love’ as the central theme. It was bewildering and challenging to portray an emotion as vivid as love on screen in a non-fiction, historical documentary.

There were a number of obstacles in completing the film and a relentless pursuit of perfection drove the entire team right to the edge but the decision to walk a tightrope and gamble with creative freedom at the expense of incurring the wrath of many of Baba’s followers all around the world undoubtedly paid off, at least personally.

At the time of writing this blog, it's been close to two decades since completing the film and if there’s one lesson to be taken from all that life has taught, shown, and given me a glimpse at is the idea that little, if anything, is really under our control. Faith and surrender to the will of a greater power is the key to walking a life of peace and joy.

This was not our work.
This was the work of God.

I have never forgotten about Baba since.

Watch the completed film below.