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Updated: May 13, 2025


News of the message reached my ears; anguished at its implications, I dropped to my knees and implored God that my guru's life be spared. As I was about to leave Father's home for the train, a divine voice spoke within. "Do not go to Puri tonight. Thy prayer cannot he granted."

He handed her a print, remarking, "If you deem it a protection, then it is so; otherwise it is only a picture." A few days later this woman and Lahiri Mahasaya's daughter-in-law happened to be studying the BHAGAVAD GITA at a table behind which hung the guru's photograph. An electrical storm broke out with great fury. "Lahiri Mahasaya, protect us!" The women bowed before the picture.

A certain kerosene lamp could not be found. Having so lately witnessed my guru's omniscient insight, I thought he would demonstrate that it was child's play to locate the lamp. Master perceived my expectation. With exaggerated gravity he questioned all ashram residents. A young disciple confessed that he had used the lamp to go to the well in the back yard.

There, in lotus posture, sat the supreme Babaji. I knelt on the shining floor at his feet. "'Lahiri, are you still feasting on your dream desires for a golden palace? My guru's eyes were twinkling like his own sapphires. 'Wake! All your earthly thirsts are about to be quenched forever. He murmured some mystic words of blessing. 'My son, arise.

As the great master viewed the picturesque outdoor classes, held under the trees, and saw in the evening that young boys were sitting motionless for hours in yoga meditation, he was profoundly moved. "Joy comes to my heart," he said, "to see that Lahiri Mahasaya's ideals for the proper training of youth are being carried on in this institution. My guru's blessings be on it."

'When your book is finished, I shall pay you a visit, he promised. 'Good-by for the present. "I left Allahabad the following day and entrained for Benares. Reaching my guru's home, I poured out the story of the wonderful saint at the KUMBHA MELA. "'Oh, didn't you recognize him? Lahiri Mahasaya's eyes were dancing with laughter. 'I see you couldn't, for he prevented you.

I am too far gone for any doctor." "Child, you are protected by the Divine Mercy. Don't worry about the doctor; he will not find you in this state. You are already healed." With my guru's words, the excruciating suffering left me. I sat up feebly. A doctor soon arrived and examined me carefully. "You appear to have passed through the worst," he said.

"Rajendra and the others can go ahead now, and wait for you at Calcutta. There will be plenty of time to catch the last evening train leaving Calcutta for Kashmir." "Sir, I don't care to go without you," I said mournfully. My friends paid not the slightest attention to my remark. They summoned a hackney carriage and departed with all the luggage. Kanai and I sat quietly at our guru's feet.

"Lahiri Mahasaya was the greatest yogi I ever knew. He was Divinity Itself in the form of flesh." If a disciple, I reflected, could materialize an extra fleshly form at will, what miracles indeed could be barred to his master? "I will tell you how priceless is a guru's help. I used to meditate with another disciple for eight hours every night. We had to work at the railroad office during the day.

A brilliant conversationalist, he enjoyed an exchange of views on countless topics with his guests. My guru's ready wit and rollicking laugh enlivened every discussion. Often grave, Master was never gloomy. "To seek the Lord, one need not disfigure his face," he would remark. "Remember that finding God will mean the funeral of all sorrows."

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