The Phiroz Mehta Trust October 1992 Newsletter

To mark the occasion of Phiroz’s 90th Birthday, a special colour photograph has been produced by Claude Braham. This remarkably fine and sensitive study shows Phiroz full-face in close up. The photograph has been produced in two sizes, 8½" x 6½" and 7" x 5". Copies may be obtained from the Trust.

Long ago, when I had only just found the Buddhist Society, I went to an evening lecture. I knew nothing of subject and speaker. The room was quite full. A tall gentleman ascended the platform and without notes delivered his talk. This he did in language so consummate that it brought to mind a poem about the harmony between form and content — at best, form being a golden vessel for containing golden content. And surely it is this combination that excites, and that — perhaps even unconsciously — impressed and attached so many people to Phiroz and why he became a living example and expositor to many.

Phiroz, musician, scientist, author, teacher and spiritual guide, ever was a “cultivator”, of himself and of others. Having himself encountered all that is grave and constant in human experience, he distilled from it in a heart that is truly religious, the essence of the spirit. It is this essence that pervades his presence. This is a rare quality indeed, and is, I believe, what exacts love and respect from all who meet him. Still rarer is the natural warmth and humility that always radiate from him — he who never gives himself airs is truly great. Add to this a sense of gentle humour that never hurts anyone; and who has ever heard Phiroz speak ill of anybody?

Thank you, Phiroz, for all that you have shown and are showing us.

On congratulating our beloved Teacher and Elder Brother, we also recall to mind those who loved and taught him — his mother and father, with their Zoroastrian heritage expressed in every facet of their lives, the gentle Buddhism of his Sri Lankan childhood, the cadenced aesthetic of the Anglicanism of his school and college where natural sciences joined in, the scintillating theosophy of his young manhood, the wondrous stores of beauty brought in by Solomon, European classical music, and by the divine Silvia. Omitting much else that is important, the mind passes on to the learning imparted by those years of introducing oriental thought and philosophy to soldiers and other adults and then to the years of teaching science, rejoicing in the understanding of our place in a co­dependent universe.

Thank you, Phiroz, for being with us. We know you wish to haste away; stay as long as you can. We need you and love you. Ad multos annos!

It is a special pleasure to congratulate Phiroz Mehta on his 90th birthday, and to thank him for the special gifts which many years ago he passed on to me and my family.

I first met Phiroz soon after I arrived in Cambridge in 1955. The Cambridge University Buddhist Society had recently been formed, and at least six people, sometimes as many as ten, came to the meetings. These were usually held in Simon Digby’s rooms in Trinity, and the speakers varied from Thai bhikkus, exotic and unusual sights at that time in their yellow robes, to Christmas Humphreys himself, who was always ready to come to Cambridge to stimulate the new society. On the programme for the Lent Term, 1955, was a name unknown to me at the time, Mr. Mehta.

It is difficult to realise now how little understanding there was forty years ago of any religion other than Christianity. There was even less understanding of “altered states of consciousness.” The idea that any valid knowledge or wisdom could proceed from any part of the mind save the rational was only comprehended by a very small number of people whose views were scarcely ever discussed.

Phiroz Mehta talked that evening about the ‘superconscious’ in such a way that I felt that new doors and windows had opened for me. I had called myself a Buddhist after living in Japan for two years, but I realized after listening to Phiroz that I had understood nothing of the nature of the Buddha’s enlightenment: That wisdom had burst upon him from another dimension of reality, which was impossible to describe in ordinary words, let alone to communicate to anyone else. I remember that everyone present was enthralled by his wonderful clarity, and the inspiration behind his words which illuminated so much that before had been fuzzy and vague.

Later he came to our house in Shamley Green with Silvia and his sister Mrs. Wadia, who was working in the same family planning movement as my father. Again he talked to us with such force and inspiration that we were all deeply moved and impressed. My sister Thetis even now recalls the impact his words then had for her. She too remembers that the ‘superconscious’ was a whole area of life and wisdom which to our generation had never been communicated or discussed. It came with the force of revelation that there were doors and windows to the human mind opening on to realms of the spirit, the very existence of which we had known nothing.

All this took place thirty-seven years ago. Phiroz Mehta must have been 53 then. Now he is 90, and during the intervening years he has never spared himself to communicate in books, in his wonderfully lucid and eloquent talks, and by his simple presence, the same message which is after all the deepest mystery confronting the human mind.

I am glad to remind him that his words so many years ago were like a key opening a door to a treasure house. People he may never have seen again nevertheless remember, and we are grateful for this gift of grace.

Autumn is the traditional time for Thanksgiving by the various farming communities after reaping the harvest of many months of sweat and toil.

Cereals, hard and soft fruits, assorted vegetables, etc., are all part of nature’s produce to be shared eventually by the people. But this is not the end, or the time to relax. Concentration and continued effort towards a new preparation is required. Fields old and new must be ploughed and re-fertilised, orchards, and fruit bushes receiving the same devoted care and attention before the onslaught of winter. When the time arrives for seeds to be sown, one must be mindful of the changing moods of weather, realizing germination will only be successful in harmonious conditions of nature. Moments of anxiety will accompany the hope that the rains will be plentiful, along with ample days of warm sunshine to stimulate growth. Spring with its vibrant energy will herald the explosion of the new. Blossom will be the forerunner of fruition — one is aware of this ever-changing movement.

In Phiroz Mehta we are privileged to receive all the produce of this very productive senior farmer. Toiling with resolute strength of purpose in the field of humanity he has spent countless hours over many years in pursuit of the Truth, the study and enquiry into the ‘Journey of Life’ that each human being is destined to embark upon. Akin to the real farmer in agriculture they complement each other, i.e. the nourishment of the needy. Together they embrace body and mind.

On 1st October 1992, our dear friend Phiroz will be 90 years old, well into the autumn of life, but the generosity to sow seeds of wisdom amongst us never ceases. Some may fall on stony ground. It would be true to say that some of us do not always make good use of that which is given with such compassion. He will forgive us instantly and without prejudice followed by the ever-ready hand of guidance. Perhaps this spontaneous action of giving is the most important lesson we can ever learn from the wise gentleman farmer.

To listen with quiet attentiveness is full of merit, and its value unquestionable, but we listen as separate individuals. We must be mindful that we are parts of the whole, sowe must be good caretakers of the special harvest that has been generously given for the benefit of future fellow travellers, combined with the action of unity, the willingness to share our own small harvest, however meagre, with all those who care to link hands with us on the continuous journey — a silent action, perhaps the right step towards becoming a true human being.

On this note, it will be a wonderful opportunity to have another Thanksgiving and express our gratitude, affection and very best wishes to Phiroz Mehta in his 90th year, with a quiet reminder that his dedication and concern for our well being has not been in vain — we are awake to his message! Nor do we forget those friends who have his daily care at heart; they share our warm thoughts and wishes.

In a world of over 5000 million people, there are averagely 14 million birthdays each day of the year. And yet there are very few people, if any, who appreciate the extraordinary importance of a birthday. The whole universe is at work, not only our parents, producing each one of us. The very stars in their courses have laboured id continue to labour (hence the validity of Astrology) to bring us into unique, particular and separate being out of the unitary infinite non­being. Materially, we are the children of stardust, spiritually, of the Divine Energy whose Creative Action in Eternity is ceaseless. So indeed stars and unseen powers shape and affect our lives and destinies, and we turn affect the cosmos, so much so that the movement of an arm or e winking of an eye, or a stir of the mind and the heart affects the farthest stars and the divine unknown Powers that be, Powers designated by Milton as Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers.

So to me the celebration of a birthday can be a veritable entertaining of the company of Heaven and the multitude of Earth — Heaven and Earth, the Father and Mother of all Manifestation. You may call Homer called Earth the wife of starry heaven. How extraordinary en, how important, is a birthday? A day most fit for divine contemplation of all those spiritual values — Love, Wisdom, Truth, Purity, Goodness and Beauty — which mark with special and transcendent significance the deep meaning of our Human-ness.

So let such an occasion be remembered as a thing of beauty. That lovely English poet, John Keats, starts his great poem Endymion with “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” and concludes his Ode on a Grecian Urn with, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty — that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know”. And I would add to that, Love is Truth, Love is Beauty.

In the one commandment of Jesus, “Love ye one another as I have loved you”, is the Way of Truth and Wisdom and Beauty.

Truth! Be thou in my eyes more than love or pain! Be thou myself, that I may be false to all else but thee. Truth! Be thou to me more sacred than religion, cleaner than the rain-washed stones, more pleasing than the pleasure of life’s most pleasing friends… If the truth is not my own truth, it is falsehood, no matter if all the nations of the earth affirm otherwise.