"In this place, where everything is darkness, where everybody is locked up, you brought the key for my inner peace. My body lives in darkness, but my spirit lives in freedom."

P.L., a female prisoner in Unit 31

Ezeiza, Argentina, Unit 31, Our Lady of San Nicolas women's prison. Tuesday, September 7.

It's very early in the morning. We're thirty kilometers outside Buenos Aires, in an area marked by federal penitentiaries. We've arrived with the production team to set up the hall: a large high-ceilinged gymnasium in Unit 31 of the women's prison here.

The inmates are already waiting for us. Benita, who received Knowledge here in prison, Marcelina, a very young woman, Emma, Patricia, Graciela, 'Granma', Alexandra, Mirta and the rest. Before we can ask, they're sweeping the floor, washing the bathrooms and wiping the chairs. Some go to the prison bakery to fetch us breakfast: fresh-baked bread and biscuits.

The setup is simple: just a low podium, a wooden lectern and, in front of it, some plain chairs. But everyone's enjoying themselves. The festival has already begun.

This isn't the first time these women have sent Maharaji an invitation. They've written letters. They've pleaded: “If peace is the perfume of God, please bring us some, we need it".

But now that the day has come, they can hardly believe it.

“Our family and friends don’t come to visit us", they tell us. "They don’t answer our pleas. But Maharaji hasn't forgotten us. He's responded to our invitation. Our dream has come true”.

Every Tuesday, for three years, we've been coming to see them — bringing cassettes of Maharaji's talks, printed material, batteries, biscuits and sweets. They're in prison for everything you can imagine: drug dealing, drug smuggling (they're used as mules), murder, robbery. Many are very young — they've delivered babies here, coming to our small events with children in their arms or in prams. All come from hard, grindingly poor lives. Some can't even read or write, and only learn in prison. Marcelina could barely speak when we first met her.

We've seen them emerge from depression and desperation, from loneliness and busted lives. Each time we visit, they thank us for bringing Maharaji's message. We've watched their faces fill with happiness and love. Some are now listening to the Keys, preparing to receive Knowledge, his teaching.

There's a book where the women can express what they feel. Some of them write in it:

"M, thank you for reminding me what I know but I have forgotten: how to find myself. I love you, you are in my prayers with my dearest ones".

C.S.

"Once a flower opens to the sun, it can never go back to the stage of being a bud ... and that's me. Thank you, M, for your message."

A.N.

The morning winds on. The room fills with joy. People are smiling and hugging. The women bring in beautifully wrapped, handmade presents: a large cushion embroidered with the words “Thank you for coming to Unit 31"; a handkerchief embroidered with the initials P.R.; a song Benita has recorded; more cassettes containing expressions of love.

It nears 4:00 p.m. — the start time. One by one everyone enters the room, smiling — 120 people in all. They walk quietly, as if carrying a treasure. About 55 inmates are here — 15 more cannot come. They've been 'grounded', a blow that leaves some of them weeping.

Other chairs are filled with prison authorities, directors of other prisons, organizers and their guests, and a few of us involved with the prison project. Prisoners on the left, authorities and guests on the right. Everyone who doesn't speak English has a headset, except the duty wardens who stand at the back, watching the women: they don't want to listen. The prison padre and two coworkers have come to take notes.

Maharaji enters the hall. It's an unforgettable moment. He wears a dark suit and a yellow tie and is smiling broadly. When he speaks, he tells the story of the lion and the bunny, and the women laugh. He speaks about freedom and they cry. When he asks a question, everyone answers. They're right there with him. He tells the women that people outside are also in prison; not in a jail, but in the prison of their fears, desires, thoughts. “Yes, yes”, they say. Then they cry some more.

The duty wardens are suddenly interested: they ask us for headsets. The padre and his colleagues are laughing: they've forgotten to take their notes.

Maharaji ends his talk. We mount the podium to give him the women's presents. Prison regulations won't allow them to hand them over themselves. He's smiling broadly; he looks really happy. Then he asks if anyone wants to speak to him.

We'd arranged for only four people to speak, but many more grab the microphone. “If it is not disrespectful, may I call you ‘friend’?”, asks Patricia. When Maharaji says yes, she tells him she's reading his biography, Peace Is Possible, and asks him to sign it. When he agrees, she hands the book up.

Maharaji answers all of them. He's kind with them, full of love. After he finishes, the prison Director speaks: “I agree with Mr. Prem Rawat completely when he says we on the outside are prisoners of our fears and desires. I want to look for that freedom and learn more about his message myself“. He says how touched he is by Maharaji and he talks about how Benita is an example of someone who has been transformed.

Maharaji leaves to a standing ovation. Even the guards are clapping.

Suddenly the inmates and authorities are no longer separate. Everyone is hugging each other, laughing and crying. One inmate, Alexandra, still can't believe he has come. "I know that he's very important and goes to very nice places to speak, but today he's come here. How humble, how kind, how full of love this person is”.

The priest asks us for literature. Later, when we go to thank him, the prison director tells us that a fellow prison director, who attended the event, has asked us to bring Maharaji's program to his prison. He wants signed copies of Maharaji's biography for him and his friend.

The women crowd around us and tell us how they felt. “He made me cry and it is not easy to make someone cry in prison", says 'Granma'. "We're so hard here”.

Graciela agrees. “I had my doubts about Maharaji. 'What's he going to tell me?' I thought. It’s so easy out there. But when he started to speak, my heart broke open, and he knocked down my concepts".

A woman who works in the prison tells us she had doubts about him as well. "But now I've heard him, I understand him. He's so simple, so peaceful. I want to take some literature for myself, my sister and my friends”.

Benita begins playing a guitar, singing a song she wrote the night before:

“Here in Argentina, I sing you my song. This gift of life I have learnt because of you. I carry in my soul words of peace filling my being. I want to tell you that I will keep with me all this love that I feel. I say goodbye to you with a lot of happiness. I give you my song as a present for you”.

The prisoners don't want to leave the hall, but the guards are calling them gently. As they file out they have tears in their eyes and they thank us repeatedly. We all walk out quietly.

Benita wants to spread Maharaji's message in the prison, so more female inmates can receive Knowledge. She's taken responsibility for distributing the Keys and she's recording a tape to send to inmates she knows in other prisons.

We'll be back to see them all on Tuesday next week.