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"The year is now up; both his lungs are gone. He has ignored my counsel; tell him I don't want to see him." Half stunned by Sri Yukteswar's sternness, I raced down the stairway. Sasi was ascending. "O Mukunda! I do hope Master is here; I had a hunch he might be." "Yes, but he doesn't wish to be disturbed." Sasi burst into tears and brushed past me.
"And my trust in you, Master, is more precious to me than any stone!" A year later I was visiting my guru at the Calcutta home of his disciple, Naren Babu. About ten o'clock in the morning, as Sri Yukteswar and I were sitting quietly in the second-floor parlor, I heard the front door open. Master straightened stiffly. "It is that Sasi," he remarked gravely.
It will help you." "I can't afford one. Anyhow, dear guruji, if trouble comes, I fully believe you will protect me." "In a year you will bring three sapphires," Sri Yukteswar replied cryptically. "They will be of no use then." Variations on this conversation took place regularly. "I can't reform!" Sasi would say in comical despair.
Sri Yukteswar gazed at my friend with affectionate exasperation. "Mukunda is the witness: don't say later that I didn't warn you." Sasi laughed. "Master, I will leave it to you to interest a sweet charity of cosmos in my own sad case! My spirit is willing but my will is weak. You are my only savior on earth; I believe in nothing else." "At least you should wear a two-carat blue sapphire.
"Sasi cannot last through the night." These words from his physician, and the spectacle of my friend, now reduced almost to a skeleton, sent me posthaste to Serampore. My guru listened coldly to my tearful report. "Why do you come here to bother me? You have already heard me assure Sasi of his recovery." I bowed before him in great awe, and retreated to the door.
In the West, to avoid the use of a Sanskrit name, the YOGODA SAT-SANGA movement has been called the SELF-REALIZATION FELLOWSHIP. The Lakshmanpur school is in the capable charge of Mr. G. C. Dey, B.A. The medical department is ably supervised by Dr. S. N. Pal and Sasi Bhusan Mullick. A free translation is: "Striving, striving, one day behold! the Divine Goal!"
Many of them would lay aside-at least in the ashram!-their fashionable academic cloak of religious skepticism. One of my friends, Sasi, spent a number of happy week ends in Serampore. Master became immensely fond of the boy, and lamented that his private life was wild and disorderly. "Sasi, unless you reform, one year hence you will be dangerously ill."
Master then sat sphinxlike in an unrelenting silence, punctuated by the boy's sobs for mercy. An intuitive conviction came to me that Sri Yukteswar was merely testing the depth of Sasi's faith in the divine healing power. I was not surprised a tense hour later when Master turned a sympathetic gaze on my prostrate friend. "Get up, Sasi; what a commotion you make in other people's houses!
They intrenched themselves in a natural fastness that appeared impregnable, and an English messenger being sent to demand a surrender, the venerable governor, Don Arnoldo Sasi, it is said, ordered him to be shown around the fortification, that he might see that it was impossible to take it, and then dismissed him with a handsome present.
There they refreshed themselves, and advancing upon the town surprised the enemy, who knew of the late landing and the badness of the way and did not expect them so soon. They found 200 Spaniards at the entrance to the town, drawn up under their governor, Don Pedro de Moralis, and supported by Don Christopher de Sasi Arnoldo, the former Spanish governor of Jamaica, with a reserve of 500 more.
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