"The atmosphere of Earth is surcharged, and it is emanating from a humble, narrow lane in Poona."

In the early morning of Sunday, 25 February 1894, the long-awaited moment arrived. Shireen was lying asleep in bed at the David Sassoon Hospital; Grandmother Golandoon was by her side. The midnight gong sounded twelve times in the distance. Nurses came frequently to look in on her; the expectant mother was relaxed in a deep sleep. Suddenly, Shireen awoke and told her mother that she had had a vivid dream.

"A dream?" Golandoon inquired. "What did you see? Tell me."

Shireen answered: "I saw seated in a chariot a person as glorious as the sun. His cool brilliance pervaded the atmosphere. A few people were pulling his chariot, while thousands of people led him in a procession. Tens of thousands of eyes were gazing at him, enraptured by his divine radiance ... I, too, was in the procession and marveled at the luster of his face. His light fell on the whole procession and people's eyes were fixed on him; they could not look away."

Tears of joy came to Golandoon's eyes, and she said, "Daughter, a very auspicious son will be born to you. His name will be spread all over the world. He will walk among thousands of people one day and be carried in grand processions, as you dreamt. He will be given special reverence and honor." Her mother's interpretation delighted Shireen and she soon fell fast asleep again.

The hospital was quiet. A gentle sweetness filled the air. In the silence, an unimaginable joy pervaded the hospital and its surroundings.

Daily, hundreds of thousands of human beings are born in the world, but there is no discernible change in the atmosphere at their birth. That Sunday morning the weather in Poona was neither hot nor cold; the breeze that was blowing through the town had a different significance. While people slept, the cool breeze gently wafted over them, soothing them in their slumber. Stillness came; the quietude blanketed the city and it seemed as if all the din and hubbub of the world had been absorbed in a state of soundlessness. Age wished that this peace would be ever-present.

Then the birds started singing, piercing the stillness with their songs. There was distinct merriment in their voices. How sweet were their songs — how healing the effect of their chirping in the stillness of the coming dawn.