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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Mukunda, how can you admire worthless humbugs?" Satish was saying. "A SADHU'S very appearance is repulsive. He is either as thin as a skeleton, or as unholily fat as an elephant!" I shouted with laughter. My good-natured reaction was annoying to Satish; he retired into sullen silence. As our cab entered the Dakshineswar grounds, he grinned sarcastically.
If "escapism" be a need of man, cramped in his narrow personality, can any escape compare with the majesty of omnipresence? In my sacred experience at Dakshineswar, the only extraordinarily-enlarged objects were the temple and the form of the Goddess. Everything else appeared in its normal dimensions, although each was enclosed in a halo of mellow light-white, blue, and pastel rainbow hues.
But shyly he drew away, repeatedly refusing the honor. Perceiving my hurt, he finally smiled consent. "Since we are both devotees of the Mother, you may put the garland on this bodily temple, as offering to Her who dwells within." His vast nature lacked space in which any egotistical consideration could gain foothold. "Let us go tomorrow to the Dakshineswar Temple, forever hallowed by my guru."
Although it was only about seven o'clock, the morning sun would soon be oppressive. The world receded as I became devotionally entranced. My mind was concentrated on Goddess Kali, whose image at Dakshineswar had been the special object of adoration by the great master, Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa.
"Although at this time Satish had fully recovered from his sickness, and was enjoying excellent health, he died without apparent cause shortly after his strange remark before the photograph." Thus prophetically passed my dearly beloved eldest sister Roma, and her husband Satish-he who changed at Dakshineswar from an ordinary worldly man to a silent saint.
As if by a mystic syringe, the breath was withdrawn from my lungs; my body became very still, though not inert. An ecstatic enlargement of consciousness followed. I could see clearly for several miles over the Ganges River to my left, and beyond the temple into the entire Dakshineswar precincts.
I sat rigidly motionless on the grass amid the pink feathery tamarisk flowers. Temporarily absent from the body, I soared in a supernal visit. This was the first of many pilgrimages to Dakshineswar with the holy teacher. From him I learned the sweetness of God in the aspect of Mother, or Divine Mercy. The childlike saint found little appeal in the Father aspect, or Divine Justice.
The walls of all buildings glimmered transparently; through them I observed people walking to and fro over distant acres. Though I was breathless and my body in a strangely quiet state, yet I was able to move my hands and feet freely. For several minutes I experimented in closing and opening my eyes; in either state I saw distinctly the whole Dakshineswar panorama.
Somewhat uplifted under the holy influence of Dakshineswar, his mind yet held unkind reflections about me. I turned directly to the gracious form of the Goddess. "Divine Mother," I prayed, "wilt Thou not spiritually change my sister's husband?" The beautiful figure, hitherto silent, spoke at last: "Thy wish is granted!" I looked happily at Satish.
As our hackney carriage rattled along Upper Circular Road toward Dakshineswar, my brother-in-law, Satish Chandra Bose, amused himself by deriding spiritual gurus of the past, present, and future. I noticed that Roma was quietly weeping. "Sister, cheer up!" I whispered. "Don't give your husband the satisfaction of believing that we take his mockery seriously."
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