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Sri Yukteswar rose from his seat and walked to the balcony of my room which overlooked the Ganges. I followed him, eager to hear more of the baffling Mohammedan Raffles. "This PANTHI house formerly belonged to a friend of mine. He became acquainted with Afzal and asked him here. My friend also invited about twenty neighbors, including myself.
Master waved aside my objections. "Romesh will find time for you. Now go." I bicycled back to the PANTHI. The first person I met in the boardinghouse compound was the scholarly Romesh. As though his days were quite free, he obligingly agreed to my diffident request. "Of course; I am at your service."
Immediately after entering Serampore College, I had taken a room in a near-by boardinghouse, called PANTHI. It was an old-fashioned brick mansion, fronting the Ganges. "Master, what a coincidence! Are these newly decorated walls really ancient with memories?" I looked around my simply furnished room with awakened interest. "It is a long story." My guru smiled reminiscently.
Yet a torturing surmise sometimes haunts me: may not untapped soul possibilities exist? Is man not missing his real destiny if he fails to explore them?" These remarks of Dijen Babu, my roommate at the PANTHI boardinghouse, were called forth by my invitation that he meet my guru. "Sri Yukteswarji will initiate you into KRIYA YOGA," I replied.
After hours with Sri Yukteswar, listening to his incomparable flow of wisdom, or helping with ashram duties, I would reluctantly depart around midnight for the PANTHI. Occasionally I stayed all night with my guru, so happily engrossed in his conversation that I scarcely noticed when darkness changed into dawn. "When do your A.B. examinations start?" "Five days hence, sir."
When we had finished our early lunch, he suggested that I return to the PANTHI. "Does your friend, Romesh Chandra Dutt, still live in your boardinghouse?" "Yes, sir." "Get in touch with him; the Lord will inspire him to help you with the examinations." "Very well, sir; but Romesh is unusually busy. He is the honor man in our class, and carries a heavier course than the others."
My almost daily visits to Sri Yukteswar had left me little time to enter the college halls. There it was my presence rather than my absence that brought forth ejaculations of amazement from my classmates! My customary routine was to set out on my bicycle about nine-thirty in the morning. In one hand I would carry an offering for my guru-a few flowers from the garden of my PANTHI boardinghouse.
As I reached the PANTHI, I overheard a classmate's remark: "I have just learned that this year, for the first time, the required passing mark in English literature has been lowered." I entered the boy's room with such speed that he looked up in alarm. I questioned him eagerly. "Long-haired monk," he said laughingly, "why this sudden interest in scholastic matters? Why cry in the eleventh hour?
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