Francis Memories

When Francis Brabazon had finished “The Word At Worlds End” in 1963 at Meherazad, Rano was asked to type it up. Just before Rano had finished typing Francis’ book ‘Four and Twenty Blackbirds’ … which she loved. But while typing “The Dreams of Wet Pavements” the opening poem in Francis’ book ‘The Word At Worlds […]

During the years I lived alongside Avatar’s Abode, mid 70’s onwards, I had occasion among my activities relating to production of plays, theatrical events etc. etc, to read many of Francis’ poems to an audience, quite often at his request; here is one poem he wrote for me to recite and which to my knowledge […]

Remembering the final year of Francis Brabazons’ life is not to most people a glorious event as he was totally plagued with Alzheimer’s disease and bedridden. Yet my most cherished and altruistically condensed moment of awareness of Francis’ total abnegation before his Beloved’s will was displayed to me in a fashion which I will not […]

Francis wrote from ‘Guruprasad’ 24/5/60 in a general letter to Baba lovers in Australia: ‘… There has been a curious codger coming. He wears the saffron robe of the mendicant and all over it is printed ‘Shree Mata’ (Holy Mother). Somehow it tickled my irreverence and I nicknamed him ‘dear Mum’. Now he has gone […]

On Avatar’s Abode property we have a most unusual occurrence in the eyes of the world. A person is buried on what may be termed a private property. Francis Brabazon bought this property for Avatar Meher Baba and so therefore it was fitting that he should be buried there. Once the various authorities gave their […]

Arguing about which is the best of this or that of Francis Brabazon is not in my best interest so I will say that my favourite ghazal by far is no.76 in In Dust I Sing. Sometime in the early 90’s one evening after reciting a ghazal of Francis’ at Meherabad after arti a poignant […]

Our dear Francis was indeed a hard nut to crack when asking him about his life with Avatar Meher Baba. He would generally give the asker a sort of sheepish sideways glance and look down at his hand rolled cigarette of long standing. He would then turn to another person nearby and say something like, […]

Francis Brabazon was never one much for what people thought and theorized on. Things like their dreams was to him problematical and not particularly of interest, in most cases he would generally cut short these forms of conversations, i.e. astrology and the like was anathema to him also, I’ve seen him often get up and […]

In 1980 or about then, I don’t remember exactly, I was living alongside Avatar’s Abode about a two minute walk from Francis’ cottage, I felt a distinct urge to go and see him. It was on a Sunday, that I can remember fairly precisely, I slowly strolled up Meher Rd. turned into the entrance of […]