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Updated: May 23, 2025
Gone were the Calcutta years when I could rebuke the cook for a ten-minute delay. Now I tried to control my appetite; one day I undertook a twenty-four hour fast. With double zest I awaited the following midday. "Dyanandaji's train is late; we are not going to eat until he arrives." Jitendra brought me this devastating news.
"The law of demand and supply reaches into subtler realms than I had supposed." Ananta spoke with a spiritual enthusiasm never before noticeable. "I understand for the first time your indifference to the vaults and vulgar accumulations of the world." Breakfast the following morning was eaten in a harmony absent the day before. I smiled at Jitendra. "You shall not be cheated of the Taj.
"I propose that I send you and your fellow disciple Jitendra this morning to the near-by city of Brindaban. You must not take a single rupee; you must not beg, either for food or money; you must not reveal your predicament to anyone; you must not go without your meals; and you must not be stranded in Brindaban.
I gladly consented. The young man, who said his name was Pratap Chatterji, hailed a horse carriage. We visited Madanamohana Temple and other Krishna shrines. Night descended while we were at our temple devotions. Jitendra and I sauntered along the wide street, crowded now in the comparative coolness. Our friend was absent for some time, but finally returned with gifts of many sweetmeats.
My attempts to meditate here meet with no more favor than your own." Jitendra spoke with determination. "I have met a Christlike saint. Let us visit him in Serampore." And so the "bird" prepared to "swoop" perilously close to Calcutta! Sanskrit is the eldest sister of all Indo-European tongues. Its alphabetical script is DEVANAGARI, literally "divine abode." "Who knows my grammar knows God!"
But even greater is my love for the Heavenly Father, who has given me the gift of a perfect father on earth. Let me go, that I someday return with a more divine understanding." With reluctant parental consent, I set out to join Jitendra, already in Benares at the hermitage. On my arrival the young head swami, Dyananda, greeted me cordially.
Never could I admit my "philosophy" unequal to any tussle on the world's harsh proving ground! "Your willingness does you credit. I'll escort you to the train at once." Ananta turned to the openmouthed Jitendra. "You must go along as a witness and, very likely, a fellow victim!" A half hour later Jitendra and I were in possession of one-way tickets for our impromptu trip.
Delicate wreaths and scrolls emerge intricately from marbles, brown and violet. Illumination from the dome falls on the cenotaphs of Emperor Shah-Jahan and Mumtaz Mahall, queen of his realm and his heart. Enough of sight-seeing! I was longing for my guru. Jitendra and I were shortly traveling south by train toward Bengal. "Mukunda, I have not seen my family in months.
As Jitendra and I descended to the platform, our chance companions linked arms with us and summoned a horse cab. We alit before a stately hermitage, set amidst the evergreen trees of well-kept grounds. Our benefactors were evidently known here; a smiling lad led us without comment to a parlor. We were soon joined by an elderly woman of dignified bearing. "Gauri Ma, the princes could not come."
Already I am famished merely at the prospect before us. I left Benares to view the Taj's mausoleum, not to enter my own!" "Cheer up, Jitendra! The door of our compartment opened; two men seated themselves. The next train stop would be the last. "Young lads, do you have friends in Brindaban?" The stranger opposite me was taking a surprising interest. "None of your business!"
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