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"My son, you may now comprehend more fully that I am resurrected by divine decree," Sri Yukteswar continued, "as a savior of astrally reincarnating souls coming back from the causal sphere, in particular, rather than of those astral beings who are coming up from the earth.
"My Master told me so." Shrinking from personal assertion, the saint ended any sage counsel with this invariable tribute. So deep was his identity with Sri Ramakrishna that Master Mahasaya no longer considered his thoughts as his own. Hand in hand, the saint and I walked one evening on the block of his school.
He is called the Lord of the Earth. He is the Lord whose sway is owned by all obstacles. He is endued with Sri and He is identical with the deity of blazing flames. That illustrious deity is called by various names. Even He is Brahman and Siva and Rudra and Varuna and Agni and Prajapati. He is the auspicious Lord of all creatures.
I would like to get a little outside air." Sri Yukteswar gave permission, but remarked to me, "He wants fresh smoke and not fresh air." The landau resumed its noisy progress over the dusty roads. Master's eyes were twinkling; he instructed me, "Crane up your neck through the carriage door and see what Auddy is doing with the air."
Later she went to Pondicherry, where she spent the last five years of her life, happily pursuing a path of discipline at the feet of Sri Aurobindo Ghosh. This sage never speaks; he silently greets his disciples on three annual occasions only. He was born into a family of strict Jains, who revere AHIMSA as the root-virtue.
In his life I perceived a godlike unity. He had not found any insuperable obstacle to mergence of human with Divine. No such barrier exists, I came to understand, save in man's spiritual unadventurousness. I always thrilled at the touch of Sri Yukteswar's holy feet. Yogis teach that a disciple is spiritually magnetized by reverent contact with a master; a subtle current is generated.
Long ago I met your guru Yukteswar at a KUMBHA MELA; I told him then I would send you to him for training." I was speechless, choked with devotional awe at his presence, and deeply touched to hear from his own lips that he had guided me to Sri Yukteswar. I lay prostrate before the deathless guru. He graciously lifted me from the floor.
"Guruji, I would like to hear some stories of your childhood." "I will tell you a few-each one with a moral!" Sri Yukteswar's eyes twinkled with his warning. "My mother once tried to frighten me with an appalling story of a ghost in a dark chamber. I went there immediately, and expressed my disappointment at having missed the ghost. Mother never told me another horror-tale.
Groping blindly toward my guru, I collapsed before him, attacked by all symptoms of the dread Asiatic cholera. Sri Yukteswar and Kanai carried me to the sitting room. Racked with agony, I cried, "Master, I surrender my life to you;" for I believed it was indeed fast ebbing from the shores of my body. Sri Yukteswar put my head on his lap, stroking my forehead with angelic tenderness.
His family doubtless possesses some record of the Maharaja's three investigations of Giri Bala. We like to see our food, to smell it, to taste it the Hindu likes also to touch it!" One does not mind HEARING it, either, if no one else is present at the meal! Wright also took moving pictures of Sri Yukteswar during his last Winter Solstice Festival in Serampore.
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