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"'Being one with the infinite all-accomplishing Will, Babaji can summon the elemental atoms to combine and manifest themselves in any form. This golden palace, instantaneously created, is real, even as this earth is real.
"'Come here. Lahiri Mahasaya touched me gently on the forehead; at once I beheld, near the door, the form of Babaji, blooming like a perfect lotus. "I remembered my old hurt, and did not bow. Lahiri Mahasaya looked at me in astonishment. "The divine guru gazed at me with fathomless eyes. 'You are annoyed with me. "'Sir, why shouldn't I be? I answered.
Babaji, the GURU of Lahiri Mahasaya, was the PARAM-GURU of Sri Yukteswar. In a few more days he would have reached his sixty-eighth birthday. The last meditation, during which the master merges himself in the Cosmic AUM, is called the MAHA, or great, SAMADHI. At the time of his death, the disciples quarreled over the manner of conducting the funeral ceremonies.
I knelt at his feet; the supreme guru patted me kindly on the shoulder. "'Child, you must meditate more, he said. 'Your gaze is not yet faultless-you could not see me hiding behind the sunlight. With these words in the voice of a celestial flute, Babaji disappeared into the hidden radiance. "That was one of my last visits to Benares to see my guru," Sri Yukteswar concluded.
"Infinitely inspired, I wended my way back to Lahiri Mahasaya's place. As I bowed before him in the early dawn, my guru smiled at me understandingly. "'I am happy for you, Ram Gopal, he said. 'The desire of meeting Babaji and Mataji, which you have often expressed to me, has found at last a sacred fulfillment.
Opening the door, I saw a young man in the scanty garb of a renunciate. He came in, closed the door behind him and, refusing my request to sit down, indicated with a gesture that he wished to talk to me while standing. "He must be Babaji!" I thought, dazed, because the man before me had the features of a younger Lahiri Mahasaya. He answered my thought. "Yes, I am Babaji."
'Remain silently outside the door; I shall soon call you. "I sank into the meditative state, humbly summoning my guru. The darkened room soon filled with a dim aural moonlight; the luminous figure of Babaji emerged. "'Lahiri, do you call me for a trifle? The master's gaze was stern. 'Truth is for earnest seekers, not for those of idle curiosity.
It has been worth-while; it has been a constant inspiration, more than ever I dreamed, to see West and East brought closer in the only lasting bond, the spiritual!" Silently I added a prayer: "May Babaji and Sri Yukteswarji feel that I have done my part, not disappointing the high hope in which they sent me forth."
As if mistrusting their senses, my friends stared at the lustrous figure on the blanket seat. "'This is mass-hypnotism! One man laughed blatantly. 'No one could possibly have entered this room without our knowledge! "Babaji advanced smilingly and motioned to each one to touch the warm, solid flesh of his body. Doubts dispelled, my friends prostrated themselves on the floor in awed repentance.
"'Keshabananda, I am glad you are here. These words came from behind me. I turned, startled, and was dazzled to behold Babaji! The great guru had materialized himself in a recess of the cave. Overjoyed to see him again after many years, I prostrated myself at his holy feet. "'I called you here, Babaji went on. 'That is why you lost your way and were led to my temporary abode in this cave.
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