The
front door was open; I made my way to a long, hall-like room on
the second floor. A rather stout man, wearing only a loincloth, was
seated in lotus posture on a slightly raised platform. His head and
unwrinkled face were clean-shaven; a beatific smile played about
his lips. To dispel my thought that I had intruded, he greeted me
as an old friend.
"BABA ANAND (bliss to my dear one)." His welcome was given heartily
in a childlike voice. I knelt and touched his feet.
"Are you Swami Pranabananda?"
He nodded. "Are you Bhagabati's son?" His words were out before I
had had time to get Father's letter from my pocket. In astonishment,
I handed him the note of introduction, which now seemed superfluous.
"Of course I will locate Kedar Nath Babu for you." The saint again
surprised me by his clairvoyance. He glanced at the letter, and
made a few affectionate references to my parent.
"You know, I am enjoying two pensions. One is by the recommendation
of your father, for whom I once worked in the railroad office. The
other is by the recommendation of my Heavenly Father, for whom I
have conscientiously finished my earthly duties in life."
I found this remark very obscure. "What kind of pension, sir, do
you receive from the Heavenly Father? Does He drop money in your
lap?"
He laughed. "I mean a pension of fathomless peace-a reward for many
years of deep meditation. I never crave money now.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44