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Updated: May 5, 2025
At a dinner there, your hostess will serve them with sugar and cream. After she has mashed the berries with a fork, you will taste them and say: 'What delicious strawberries! Then you will remember this day in Simla." Sri Yukteswar's forecast vanished from my mind, but reappeared there many years later, shortly after my arrival in America. I was a dinner guest at the home of Mrs.
I went to Serampore to ask Sri Yukteswar's help. His eyes expressed deep sympathy as I told him of Nalini's plight. "Your sister's legs will be normal at the end of one month." He added, "Let her wear, next to her skin, a band with an unperforated two-carat pearl, held on by a clasp." I prostrated myself at his feet with joyful relief.
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.
Not sensing Sri Yukteswar's reluctance to have me leave him, I went on, "Once you beheld the blessed sight of Babaji at an Allahabad KUMBHA. Perhaps this time I shall be fortunate enough to see him." "I do not think you will meet him there." My guru then fell into silence, not wishing to obstruct my plans.
Tears stood in Sri Yukteswar's eyes, but he controlled himself quickly. "The boy would never have fallen to these depths had he listened to me and not gone away to mix with undesirable companions. He has rejected my protection; the callous world must be his guru still."
I bethought myself of Behari, previously a servant in my family home, who was now employed by a Serampore schoolmaster. As I walked along briskly, I met my guru in front of the Christian church near Serampore Courthouse. "Where are you going?" Sri Yukteswar's face was unsmiling. "Sir, I hear that you and Kanai will not take the trip we have been planning. I am seeking Behari.
You made me supervisor, yet the others go to him and obey him." Three weeks later Kumar was complaining to our guru. I overheard him from an adjoining room. "That's why I assigned him to the kitchen and you to the parlor." Sri Yukteswar's withering tones were new to Kumar. "In this way you have come to realize that a worthy leader has the desire to serve, and not to dominate.
Return your sapphires to the jeweler's; they are an unnecessary expense now. But get an astrological bangle and wear it. Fear not; in a few weeks you shall be well." Sasi's smile illumined his tear-marred face like sudden sun over a sodden landscape. "Beloved guru, shall I take the medicines prescribed by the doctors?" Sri Yukteswar's glance was longanimous.
One afternoon during my early months at the ashram, found Sri Yukteswar's eyes fixed on me piercingly. "You are too thin, Mukunda." His remark struck a sensitive point. That my sunken eyes and emaciated appearance were far from my liking was testified to by rows of tonics in my room at Calcutta. Nothing availed; chronic dyspepsia had pursued me since childhood.
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