Speaker 1: Chapter forty two of Autobiography of Yogi. This is the
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Speaker 1: Rabbi Timro, Autobiographer of Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. Last Days
Speaker 1: with my Guru, Guruji, I am glad to find you
Speaker 1: alone this morning. I had just arrived at the Serampur
Speaker 1: Hermitage carrying a fragrant burden of fruit and roses. Shrilluctaswar
Speaker 1: glanced at me meekly, What is your question? Master looked
Speaker 1: about the room as though he were seeking escape. Guruji,
Speaker 1: I came to you as a high school youth. Now
Speaker 1: I am a grown man, even with a gray hair
Speaker 1: or two. Though you have showered me with silent affection
Speaker 1: from the first hour of this do you realize that once,
Speaker 1: only on the day of meeting, have you ever said
Speaker 1: I love you. I looked at him pleadingly. Master lowered
Speaker 1: his gaze. Yogananda, must I bring out into the cold
Speaker 1: RUMs of speech the warm sentiments best guarded by the
Speaker 1: wordless heart. Guruji, I know you love me, but my
Speaker 1: mortal ears ache to hear you say, so be it
Speaker 1: as you wish. During my married life, I often yearned
Speaker 1: for a son to train in the Yogic path. But
Speaker 1: then you came into my life. I was content in you.
Speaker 1: I have found my son. Two clear tear drops stood
Speaker 1: in tri Yuctaswarre's eyes, Yogananda, I love you always. Your
Speaker 1: answer is my passport to heaven. I felt a weight
Speaker 1: lift from my heart, dissolved forever at his words. Often
Speaker 1: had I wandered at his silence, realizing that he was
Speaker 1: unemotional and self contained. Yet sometimes I feared I had
Speaker 1: been unsuccessful and fully satisfying him. His was a strange nature,
Speaker 1: never utterly to be known, a nature deep and still
Speaker 1: unfathomable to the outer world, whose values he had long transcended.
Speaker 1: A few days later, when I spoke before a huge
Speaker 1: audience at Albert Hall and Calcutta, Shrilluctasois consented to sit
Speaker 1: beside me on the platform with the Maharaja of Saintoche
Speaker 1: and the Mayor of Calcutta. Though the Master made no
Speaker 1: remark to me, I glanced at him from time to
Speaker 1: time during my address and thought I detected a pleased
Speaker 1: twinkle in his eyes. Then came a talk before the
Speaker 1: alumni of Serampore College. As I gazed upon my old
Speaker 1: class mates, and as they gazed on their own, mad monk,
Speaker 1: tears of joy showed unashamedly. My silver tongued professor of philosophy,
Speaker 1: Doctor Gosal, came forward to greet me. All our past
Speaker 1: misunderstandings dissolved by the alchemist time. A winter solstice festival
Speaker 1: was celebrated at the end of December in the Serampo Hermitage.
Speaker 1: As always, Sriuctaswa's disciples gathered from far and near, devotional
Speaker 1: San Kirtan's solos in the nectar sweet voice of Christo
Speaker 1: d'ar a feast served by young disciples, masters, profoundly moving
Speaker 1: discourse under the stars in the thronged court yard of
Speaker 1: the Ashram. Memories, memories, joyous festivals of years long past
Speaker 1: to night. However, there was to be a new feature. Yogananda,
Speaker 1: please address the assemblage in English. Master's eyes were twinkling
Speaker 1: as he made this doubly unusual request. Was he thinking
Speaker 1: of the shipboard predicament that had preceded my first lecture
Speaker 1: in English? I told the story to my audience of
Speaker 1: brother disciples ending with a fervent tribute to our Guru.
Speaker 1: His only present guidance was with me, not alone on
Speaker 1: the ocean steamer, I concluded, but daily throughout my fifteen
Speaker 1: years in the vast and hospitable land of America. After
Speaker 1: the guests had departed, Shiyyuctasis called me to the same
Speaker 1: bedroom were once only after a fest of my early years,
Speaker 1: I had been permitted to sleep on his wooden bed
Speaker 1: to night. My Guru was sitting there quietly, a semi
Speaker 1: circle of disciples at his feet. He smiled as I
Speaker 1: quickly entered the room. Yugananda, are you leaving now for Kalkatta?
Speaker 1: Please return here tomorrow. I have certain things to tell
Speaker 1: you the next afternoon. Of the few simple words of blessing,
Speaker 1: Shri Yukta Swa bestowed on me the further monastic title
Speaker 1: of Paramahansa. It now formerly supersedes your former title of Swami,
Speaker 1: he said, as I knelt before him with a silent chuckle.
Speaker 1: I thought of the struggle which my American students would
Speaker 1: undergo over the pronunciation of Paramahansaji. My task on earth
Speaker 1: is now finished. You must carry on, Master, spoke quietly,
Speaker 1: his eyes calm and gentle. My heart was palpitating in fear.
Speaker 1: Please send some one to take charge of our Ashraminpuri.
Speaker 1: Shriyutta Swa went on, I leave everything in your hands.
Speaker 1: You will be able to successfully sail the boat of
Speaker 1: your life and that of the organization to the divine shores.
Speaker 1: In tears, I was embracing his feet. He rose and
Speaker 1: blessed me endearingly. The following day I summoned from Ranchi
Speaker 1: a disciple swamis Sebananda, and sent him to Puri to
Speaker 1: assume the hermitage duties. Later, my Guru discussed with me
Speaker 1: the legal details of settling his estate. He was anxious
Speaker 1: to prevent the possibility of litigation my relatives after his
Speaker 1: death for possession of his two hermitages and other properties
Speaker 1: which he wished to be deeded over solely for charitable purposes.
Speaker 1: Arrangements were recently made for Master to visit Kittopour, but
Speaker 1: he fell to go. Amulaya Babu, a brother disciple, made
Speaker 1: this remark to me one afternoon. I felt a cold
Speaker 1: wave of premonition. To my pressing inquiries, Shouldiuctasi only replied,
Speaker 1: I shall go to Kiopour. No more for a moment.
Speaker 1: Master trembled like a frightened child, attachment to bodily residence,
Speaker 1: springing up of its own nature. I arising from immemorial roots,
Speaker 1: past experiences of death, Patanjali wrote, is present in slight
Speaker 1: degree even in great saints in some of his discourses
Speaker 1: on death. My Guru had been wont to add just
Speaker 1: as a long caged bird hesitates to leave its accustomed
Speaker 1: home when the door is opened, Kuruji, I entreated him
Speaker 1: with a sob don't say that, Never utter those words
Speaker 1: to me. Triuctu Swaz's face relaxed in a peaceful smile.
Speaker 1: Though nearing his eighty first birthday, he looked well and strong,
Speaker 1: basking day by day in the sunshine of my Guru's love.
Speaker 1: Unspoken but keenly felt. I banished from my conscious mind
Speaker 1: the various hints he had given of his approaching passing. Sir,
Speaker 1: the Kumbamela is convening this month in Allahabad. I showed
Speaker 1: Master the mela dates in a Bengali almanac. Do you
Speaker 1: really want to go? Not sensing Sri Yukta swasra reluctance
Speaker 1: to have me leave him, I went on, once you
Speaker 1: beheld the blessed sight of Babijee at an Allahabad Kumba.
Speaker 1: Perhaps this time I shall be fortunate enough to see him.
Speaker 1: I do not think you will meet him there. My
Speaker 1: Guru then fell into silence, not wishing to obstruct my plans.
Speaker 1: When I set out for a Lahabad the following day
Speaker 1: of the small group, Master blessed me quietly in his
Speaker 1: usual manner. Apparently I was remaining oblivious to the implications
Speaker 1: in sriut t Swa's attitude, because the Lord wished to
Speaker 1: spare me the experience of being forced helplessly to witness
Speaker 1: my Guru's passing. It has always happened in my life
Speaker 1: that at the death of those dearly beloved by me,
Speaker 1: God has compassionately arranged that I be distant from the scene.
Speaker 1: Our party reached the Kumbameila on January twenty third, nineteen
Speaker 1: thirty six. The surging crowd of nearly two million persons
Speaker 1: was an impressive sight, even an overwhelming one. The peculiar
Speaker 1: genius of the Indian people is the reverence innate in
Speaker 1: even the lowliest peasant for the worth of the spirit
Speaker 1: and for the monks and sadus who have forsaken worldly
Speaker 1: ties to seek diviner anchorage. Impostors and hypocrites there are, indeed,
Speaker 1: but India respects all for the sake of the few
Speaker 1: who loomin the whole land with supernal blessings. Westerners, who
Speaker 1: were viewing the vast spectacle had a unique opportunity to
Speaker 1: feel the pulse of the land, the spiritual ardor to
Speaker 1: which India owes her quenchless vitality before the blows of time.
Speaker 1: The first day was spent by a group in sheers staring.
Speaker 1: Here were countless bathers dipping in the holy river for
Speaker 1: remission of sins. There we saw some rituals of worship.
Speaker 1: Yonder were devotional offerings being strewn at the dusty feet
Speaker 1: of saints, a turn of our heads, and a line
Speaker 1: of elephants, caparisoned horses and slow paced thraje put on
Speaker 1: our camels far by, or a quaint religious parade of
Speaker 1: naked sadus waving scepters of gold and silver, or f
Speaker 1: lags and streamers of silken velvet. Anchorites wearing only loincloths
Speaker 1: sat quietly in little groups, their bodies smeared with the
Speaker 1: ashes that protect them. From the heat and cold. The
Speaker 1: spiritual eye was vividly represented on their foreheads by a
Speaker 1: single spot of sandalward paste. Shaven headed swamis appeared by
Speaker 1: the thousands, oka robed and carrying their bamboo staff and
Speaker 1: begging bowl. Their faces beamed with the renunciate's peace as
Speaker 1: they walked about or held philosophical discussions with the disciples.
Speaker 1: Here and there, under the trees, around huge piles of
Speaker 1: burning logs, were picturesque saddus, their hair braided and massed
Speaker 1: in coils on top of their heads. Some wore beards
Speaker 1: several feet in length, curled and tied in a knot.
Speaker 1: They meditated quietly or extended their hands in blessing to
Speaker 1: the passing throng beggars, maharajas on elephants, women in multicolored saris,
Speaker 1: their bangles and anklets, tinkling fakirs with thin arms held
Speaker 1: gri grotusquely aloft ramachari's carrying meditation, elbow props, humble sages
Speaker 1: whose solemnity hidden in a bliss high above the din.
Speaker 1: We heard the ceaseless summons of the temple bells. On
Speaker 1: our second Malor day, My companions and I entered various
Speaker 1: ushrams and temporary huts, offering pronams to saintly personages. We
Speaker 1: received the blessing of the leader of the Giddy branch
Speaker 1: of the Swami order, a thin, ascetical monk with eyes
Speaker 1: of smiling fire. Our next visit took us to a
Speaker 1: hermitage whose guru had observed for the past nine years
Speaker 1: the vows of silence and a strict fruterarian diet on
Speaker 1: the central dyas. On the ashram hall sat a blind
Speaker 1: Sadu Pragholochakshu, profoundly learned in the Shastras and highly revered
Speaker 1: by all sects. After I had given a brief discourse
Speaker 1: in Hindian Vedanta, our group left the peaceful hermitage to
Speaker 1: greet a nearby Swami Krishnananda, a handsome monk with rosy
Speaker 1: cheeks and impressive shoulders, reclining near him as a tame lioness,
Speaker 1: succumbing to the monk's spiritual charm, not I am sure
Speaker 1: to his powerful physique. The jungle animal refuses all meat
Speaker 1: in favor of rice and milk. The Swamis taught the
Speaker 1: tawny headed beasts to utter rn in a deep, attractive
Speaker 1: growl a cat devotee. Our next encounter, an interview with
Speaker 1: a learned young Sadu, is well described by mister Wright's
Speaker 1: sparkling travel diary. We rode in the ford, across the
Speaker 1: very low gunges on a creaking pontum bridge, crawling snake light,
Speaker 1: through the crowds, and over narrow, twisting lanes, passing the
Speaker 1: site on the river bank, which Yugananda Jee pointed out
Speaker 1: to me as the meeting place of Babajee and Shri
Speaker 1: Yukta Swajee. Alighting from the car a short time later,
Speaker 1: we walked some distance through the thickening smoke of the
Speaker 1: Sadu's fires and owe the slippery sands to reach a
Speaker 1: cluster of tiny, very modest mud and straw huts. We
Speaker 1: halted in front of one of these insignificant temporary dwellings
Speaker 1: with a pygmy doorless entrance, the shelter of Cutty, a
Speaker 1: young wondering Sodow noted for his exceptional intelligence. There he
Speaker 1: sat cross legged on a pile of straw, his only
Speaker 1: covering and incidently his only possession being an oqua cloth
Speaker 1: draped over his shoulders. Truly a divine face smiled at
Speaker 1: us after we had crawled on all fours into the
Speaker 1: hut and pronomned at the feet of this enlightened soul.
Speaker 1: While the kerosene lantern at the entrance flickered weird dancing
Speaker 1: shadows on the thatched walls. His face, especially his eyes
Speaker 1: and perfect teeth, beamed and glistened. Although I was puzzled
Speaker 1: by the Hindi, his expressions were very revealing. He was
Speaker 1: full of enthusiasm, love, spiritual glory. No one could be
Speaker 1: mistaken as to his greatness. Imagine the happy life of
Speaker 1: one unattached the material world, free of the clothing problem,
Speaker 1: free of food craving, never begging, never touching cooked food
Speaker 1: except on alternate days, never carrying a begging bowl, Free
Speaker 1: of all money entanglements, never handling money, never storing things away,
Speaker 1: always trusting in God. Free of transportation warriors, never riding
Speaker 1: in vehicles, but always walking on the banks of the
Speaker 1: sacred rivers, never remaining in one place longer than a week,
Speaker 1: in order to avoid any growth of attachment. Such a
Speaker 1: modest soul, unusually learned in the Vedas and possessing an
Speaker 1: Aimee degree and the title of Shastri Master of scriptures
Speaker 1: from Benara's university. A sublime feeling pervaded me as I
Speaker 1: sat at his feet. It all seemed to be an
Speaker 1: answer to my desire to see the real, the ancient India,
Speaker 1: For he is a true representative of this land of
Speaker 1: spiritual giants. I questioned Karapatri about his wandering life. Don't
Speaker 1: you have any extra clothes for winter? No? This is enough.
Speaker 1: Do you carry any books? No? I teach from my
Speaker 1: memory those people who wish to hear me, What else
Speaker 1: do you do? I rum by the gungges At these
Speaker 1: quiet words, I was overpowered by yearning for the simplicity
Speaker 1: of his life. I remembered America and all the responsibilities
Speaker 1: that lay on my shoulders. No, Yogananda, I thought, sadly,
Speaker 1: for a moment in this life, rubbing by the Ganges
Speaker 1: is not for you. After the sid who had told
Speaker 1: me a few of his spiritual realizations, I shot an
Speaker 1: abrupt question, are you giving these descriptions from scriptural law
Speaker 1: or from inward experience? Half from book learning? He answered
Speaker 1: with a straightforward smile, and half from experience. We sat
Speaker 1: happily awhile in meditative silence. After we had left his
Speaker 1: sacred presence. I said to mister Wright, he is a
Speaker 1: king sitting on a throne of gordon straw. We had
Speaker 1: our dinner that night on the mail of grounds under
Speaker 1: the stars, eating from leaf plates pinned together with sticks.
Speaker 1: Dish washings in India are reduced to a minimum two
Speaker 1: more days of the fascinating Cumba. Then northwest along the
Speaker 1: Jumna banks to Agra. Once again I I gazed at
Speaker 1: the taj Mahal in memory the tender stood by my
Speaker 1: side or by the dream in marble. Then on to
Speaker 1: the Brinda Barashram of Swami Koshebananda. My object in seeking
Speaker 1: out Koshebananda was connected with his book. I had never
Speaker 1: forgotten Shri yet to Swa's request that I write the
Speaker 1: life of Lahei Mahassia. During my stay in India, I
Speaker 1: was taking every opportunity of contacting direct disciples and relatives
Speaker 1: of the Yogavatar, recording their conversations in voluminous notes. I
Speaker 1: verified facts and dates, and collected photographs or letters and documents.
Speaker 1: My Laheri Mahassia portfolio began to swell. I realized with
Speaker 1: dismay that ahead of me lay arduous labors and authorship.
Speaker 1: I prayed that I might be equal to my role
Speaker 1: as biographer of the colossal Guru. Several of his disciples
Speaker 1: feared that in a written account their master might be belittled
Speaker 1: or misinterpreted. One can hardly do justice in cold words
Speaker 1: to the life of a divine incarnation, Punchanon Butacharia had
Speaker 1: once remarked to me. Other close disciples were similarly satisfied
Speaker 1: to keep the Jogo vittar hidden in their hearts as
Speaker 1: the deathless Preceptor. Nevertheless, mindful of Lahari ma Hussia's prediction
Speaker 1: about his biography, I spared no effort to secure and
Speaker 1: substantiate the facts of his outward life. Swamy Kaschebanin agreeted
Speaker 1: our party warmly at Brindeban in his Katayani pythe Ashrum,
Speaker 1: an imposing brick building with massive black pillars, sat in
Speaker 1: a beautiful garden. He ushered us at once into a
Speaker 1: sitting room adorned with an enlargement of Lahii ma Hussaia's picture.
Speaker 1: The Swami was approaching the age of ninety, but his
Speaker 1: muscular body radiated its strength and health. With long hair
Speaker 1: and a snow white beard, eyes twinkling with joy, he
Speaker 1: was a veritable patriarchal embodiment. I informed him that I
Speaker 1: wanted to mention his name and my book on Indian masters.
Speaker 1: Please tell me about your earlier life, I smiled entreatingly.
Speaker 1: Great Yogas often uncommunicative, Kashebanander made a gesture of humility.
Speaker 1: There is little of external moment. Practically, my whole life
Speaker 1: has been spent in the Himalayan solitudes, traveling on foot
Speaker 1: from one quart cave to another. For a while, I
Speaker 1: maintained a small ashramat side Hardwar, Surrounded on all sides
Speaker 1: by a grove of tall trees. It was a peaceful spot,
Speaker 1: little visited by travelers owing to the ubiquitous presence of cobras.
Speaker 1: Kshevanander chuckled. Later, a ganji's flood washed away the hermitage
Speaker 1: and cobras alike. My disciples then helped me to build
Speaker 1: this Brindaban Ashram. One of our party asked the swami
Speaker 1: how he had protected himself against the Himalayan tigers. Kshebanander
Speaker 1: shook his head. In those high spiritual altitudes, he said,
Speaker 1: wild beasts seldom molest the Yogis. Once in the jungle,
Speaker 1: I encountered a tiger face to face at my sudden ejaculation,
Speaker 1: the animal was transfixed, as though turned to stone again.
Speaker 1: The swami chakled is made occasionally. I left my seclusion
Speaker 1: to visit my guru imbarares. He is to joke with
Speaker 1: me over my ceaseless travels in the Himalayan wilderness. You
Speaker 1: have the mark of a wanderlust in your foot, he
Speaker 1: told me once. I am glad that the sacred Himalayas
Speaker 1: are extensive enough to engross you many times. Kashabanander went on,
Speaker 1: both before and after his passing, Lahidi Mahasayah has appeared
Speaker 1: bodily before me. For him, no Himalayan heightis inaccessible. Two
Speaker 1: hours later, he led us to a dining patio. I
Speaker 1: sighed in silent dismay another fifteen coarse meal, less than
Speaker 1: the ear of Indian hospitality, and I had gained fifty pounds.
Speaker 1: Yet it would have been considered the height of rudeness
Speaker 1: to refuse any of the dishes carefully prepared for the
Speaker 1: endless banquets in my honor in India, nowhere else alas
Speaker 1: a wild padded swami is considered a delightful sight. After dinner,
Speaker 1: Kashabananda led me to a secluded nook. Your arrival is
Speaker 1: not unexpected, he said, I have a message for you.
Speaker 1: I was surprised no one had known of my plant
Speaker 1: to visit Kashabananda. While roaming last year in the northern
Speaker 1: Himalayas near Badrina Ran, the Swami continued, I lost my
Speaker 1: way shelter appeared in a spacious cave which was empty,
Speaker 1: though the embers of a fire glowed in a hole
Speaker 1: in the rocky floor. Wandering about the occupant of this
Speaker 1: lonely retreat, I sat near the fire, my gaze fixed
Speaker 1: on the sunlit entrance to the cave. Kieshebananda. I am
Speaker 1: glad you are here. These words came from behind me.
Speaker 1: I turned startled and was dazzled to behold Barbiji, the
Speaker 1: Great Guru, had materialized himself in a recess of the cave.
Speaker 1: Overjoyed to see him again after many years, I prostrated
Speaker 1: myself at his holy feet. I called you here, Barbaji
Speaker 1: went on, that is why you lost your way and
Speaker 1: were led to my temporary abode in this cave. It
Speaker 1: is a long time since our last meeting. I am
Speaker 1: pleased to greet you once more. The deathless master blessed
Speaker 1: me with some words of spirtual help, then added, I
Speaker 1: give you a message for Yogananda. He will pay you
Speaker 1: a visit on his return to India. Many matters connected
Speaker 1: with his Guru and with the surviving disciples of Lahidi
Speaker 1: will keep Yogananda fully occupied. Tell him then that I
Speaker 1: won't see him this time, as he is eagerly hoping,
Speaker 1: but I shall see him on some other occasion. I
Speaker 1: was deeply touched to receive from Kushabananda's lips this consoling
Speaker 1: promise from Babajee. A certain hurt in my heart vanished.
Speaker 1: I grieved no longer that, even as Shri Utretois had hinted,
Speaker 1: Babaji did not appear at the Kumbamela. Spending one night,
Speaker 1: as guests of the Ashrama party set out the following
Speaker 1: afternoon for Kolkatta. Riding over a bridge of the Jumna River,
Speaker 1: we enjoyed a magnificent view of the skyline of Brindaban.
Speaker 1: Just as the sun set fire to the sky, A
Speaker 1: veritable furnace of vulcan in color reflected below us in
Speaker 1: the still waters. The Jumna beach is hallowed by memories
Speaker 1: of the chad Shri Krishna. Here he engaged with innocent
Speaker 1: sweetness in his Leela's plays with the gopis maids, exemplifying
Speaker 1: the supernal love which ever exists between a divine incarnation
Speaker 1: of his devotees. The life of Lord Krishna has been
Speaker 1: misunderstood by many Western commentators. Scriptural allegorias baffle to literal minds.
Speaker 1: A hilarious blunder by a translator will illustrate this point.
Speaker 1: The story concerns an inspired medieval saint, the cobbler Ravidas,
Speaker 1: who sang, in the simple terms of his own trade,
Speaker 1: of the spiritual glory hidden in all mankind. Under the
Speaker 1: vast vault of blue lives the divinity clothed in hide,
Speaker 1: One turns aside to hide a smile on hearing the
Speaker 1: pedestrian interpretation given to Ravidas's poem by a Western writer.
Speaker 1: He afterwards built a heart set up in it an
Speaker 1: idol which he made from a hide, and applied himself
Speaker 1: to its worship. Ravidas was a brother disciple of the
Speaker 1: Greek Kabir. One of Ravidas's exalted jellas was the Rani
Speaker 1: of Chitu. She invited a large number of Brahmins to
Speaker 1: a feast in honor of her teacher. But they refused
Speaker 1: to eat with a lowly cobbler. As they sat down
Speaker 1: in dignified aloofness to eat their own uncontaminated meal. Lo
Speaker 1: each Brahmin founded his side the form of Ravidas. This
Speaker 1: mass vision accomplished a widespread spiritual revival in Chuttur. In
Speaker 1: a few days, our little group reached Calcutta. Eager to
Speaker 1: see Sri Yuktaswar. I was disappointed to hear that he
Speaker 1: had left Serampur and was now in Puri, about three
Speaker 1: hundred miles to the south. Come to the Puri ashram
Speaker 1: at once. This telegram was sent on March eighth by
Speaker 1: a brother disciple to Utal Chandra roy Chadhri, one of
Speaker 1: Master's cellas in Kolkata. News of the message reached my ears.
Speaker 1: Anguished at its implications, I dropped my knees and implored
Speaker 1: God that my Guru's life be spared. As I was
Speaker 1: about to leave father's home for the train, a divine
Speaker 1: voice spoke within. Do not go to Puria to night.
Speaker 1: Thy prayer cannot be granted, Lord, I said, grief stricken,
Speaker 1: thou dost not wish to engage with me in a
Speaker 1: tug of war at Puri, where thou wilt have to
Speaker 1: deny my incessant prayers for Master's life? Must he then
Speaker 1: depart for higher duties at thy behest? In obedience to
Speaker 1: the inward command, I did not leave that night for Puri.
Speaker 1: The following evening, I set out for the train. On
Speaker 1: the way at seven o'clock, a black astral cloud suddenly
Speaker 1: covered the sky. Later, while the train roared toward Puri,
Speaker 1: a vision of Sri Yukta Swar appeared before me. He
Speaker 1: was sitting very grave of countenance, with a light on
Speaker 1: each side. Is it all over? I lifted my arms beseechingly.
Speaker 1: He nodded, then slowly vanished. As I stood on the
Speaker 1: Puri train platform the following morning, still hoping against hope,
Speaker 1: an unknown man approached me. Have you heard that your
Speaker 1: master has gone? He left me without another word. I
Speaker 1: never discovered who he was, nor how he had known
Speaker 1: where to find me. Stunned, I swayed against the platform wall,
Speaker 1: realizing that in diverse ways my Guru was trying to
Speaker 1: convey to me the devastating news. Seething with rebellion, my
Speaker 1: soul was like a volcano by the time I reached
Speaker 1: the poor hermitage, I was nearing collapse. The inner voice
Speaker 1: was tenderly repeating, collect yourself, be calm. I entered the
Speaker 1: ushrum room, where Master's body, unimaginably lifelike, was sitting in
Speaker 1: the lotus posture, a picture of health and loveliness. A
Speaker 1: short time before his passing, my Gudo had been slightly
Speaker 1: ill with fever, but before the day of his ascension
Speaker 1: into the infinite, his body had become completely well. No
Speaker 1: matter how often I looked at his dear form, I
Speaker 1: could not realize that its life had departed. His skin
Speaker 1: was smooth and soft. In his face was a beatific
Speaker 1: expression of tranquility. He had consciously relinquished his body at
Speaker 1: the hour of mystic's the line of Bengal is gone.
Speaker 1: I cried. In a days I conducted the solemn rites.
Speaker 1: On March tenth, Shriyukta Swa was buried with the ancient
Speaker 1: rituals of the Swamis in the garden of his puri Ashram.
Speaker 1: His disciples later arrived from far and near to honor
Speaker 1: their Guru at a vernal equinox memorial service. The Amrita
Speaker 1: Bazar Patrica, leading newspaper of Calkata carried his picture and
Speaker 1: the following report. The death boundra ceremony for Shrimat Swami
Speaker 1: Shri Yukta Swaghiri Maharaj, aged eighty one, took place at
Speaker 1: Puri on March twenty first. Many disciples came down to
Speaker 1: Puri for the rites. One of the greatest expounders of
Speaker 1: the Baghwarghita, Swami Maharaj was a great disciple of Yogaraj
Speaker 1: Shri Shyami charan Lahedi Mahasaya of Benares. Swami Maharaj was
Speaker 1: the founder of several Yugodas, Satsanga saf Realization fellowship centers
Speaker 1: in India and was the great inspiration behind the Yoga
Speaker 1: movement which was carried to the West by Swami Yogananda,
Speaker 1: his principal disciple. It was Sri Yukta Swadji's prophetic powers
Speaker 1: and deep realization that inspired Swami Yogananda to cross the
Speaker 1: oceans and spread in America the message of the Masters
Speaker 1: of India. His interpretations of the Baghwargita and other scriptures
Speaker 1: testify to the depth of Shri Yukta Swardi's command of philosophy.
Speaker 1: Both Eastern and Western and remain as an eye opener
Speaker 1: for the unity before orient and occident. As he believed
Speaker 1: in the unity of all religious faiths. Shri Yukta Swamaharaj
Speaker 1: established Sadu Saba Society of Saints with the corporation of
Speaker 1: leaders of various sects and faiths for the inculcation of
Speaker 1: a scientific spirit and religion. At the time of his demise,
Speaker 1: he nominated Swami Yogananda his successor as the president of
Speaker 1: Sadu Saba. India is really poorer today by the passing
Speaker 1: of such great man. May all fortunate enough to come
Speaker 1: near him, inculcating themselves the true spirit of India's culture
Speaker 1: and Sadna which was personified in him. I returned to Calcutta,
Speaker 1: not trusting myself as yet to go to the Sarampur
Speaker 1: hermitage with its sacred memories. I summoned Prafula, Sri Yuktaswa's
Speaker 1: little disciple in Sarampur and made arrangements for him to
Speaker 1: enter the Ranchi school. The morning he left for the
Speaker 1: Allahabad miller, Prafula told me Master dropped heavily on the davenport.
Speaker 1: Yoga Nanda is gone. He cried, Yoga Nanda is gone,
Speaker 1: he added cryptically, I shall have to tell him some
Speaker 1: other way. He sat then for hours in silence. My
Speaker 1: days were Filbert lectures, classes, interviews and reunions with old friends.
Speaker 1: Beneath a hollow smile and a life of ceaseless activity.
Speaker 1: A stream of black brooding polluted the ener of bliss,
Speaker 1: which for so many years have meandered under the sounds
Speaker 1: of all my perceptions. Where has the divine sage gone?
Speaker 1: I cried silently from the depths of a tormented spirit.
Speaker 1: No answer came. It is best that Master has completed
Speaker 1: his union with the cosmic beloved, my mind assured me.
Speaker 1: He is eternally glowing in the dominion of deathlessness. Never
Speaker 1: again may you see him in the old serrempoor mansion.
Speaker 1: My heart lamented. No longer may you bring your friends
Speaker 1: to meet him, or proudly say behold there sits India's
Speaker 1: jan Avatar. Mister Wright made arrangements for our party to
Speaker 1: sail from Bombay for the West in early June. After
Speaker 1: a fortnight in May of farewell banquets and speeches at Calcutta,
Speaker 1: Miss Bletch, mister Wright and myself left in the Ford
Speaker 1: for Bombay. On our arrival a ship, authorities asked us
Speaker 1: to counsel our passage as no room could be found
Speaker 1: for the ford, which we would need again in Europe.
Speaker 1: Never mind, I said gloomily to mister Wright. I want
Speaker 1: to return once more to Puri. I silently added, let
Speaker 1: my tears once again water the grave of my Guru.
Speaker 1: End of Chapter forty two