For months we had been saving
our tiffin money to buy English clothes. Knowing that my clever
brother could easily play the part of a detective, we thought to
outwit him by European garb.
On the way to the station, we stopped for my cousin, Jotin Ghosh,
whom I called Jatinda. He was a new convert, longing for a guru
in the Himalayas. He donned the new suit we had in readiness.
Well-camouflaged, we hoped! A deep elation possessed our hearts.
"All we need now are canvas shoes." I led my companions to a shop
displaying rubber-soled footwear. "Articles of leather, gotten
only through the slaughter of animals, must be absent on this holy
trip." I halted on the street to remove the leather cover from my
BHAGAVAD GITA, and the leather straps from my English-made SOLA
TOPEE (helmet).
At the station we bought tickets to Burdwan, where we planned to
transfer for Hardwar in the Himalayan foothills. As soon as the
train, like ourselves, was in flight, I gave utterance to a few of
my glorious anticipations.
"Just imagine!" I ejaculated. "We shall be initiated by the masters
and experience the trance of cosmic consciousness. Our flesh will
be charged with such magnetism that wild animals of the Himalayas
will come tamely near us. Tigers will be no more than meek house
cats awaiting our caresses!"
This remark-picturing a prospect I considered entrancing, both
metaphorically and literally-brought an enthusiastic smile from
Amar.
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