"
"Then scent factories will go out of business."
"I will permit them to keep their trade! My own purpose is to
demonstrate the power of God."
"Sir, is it necessary to prove God? Isn't He performing miracles
in everything, everywhere?"
"Yes, but we too should manifest some of His infinite creative
variety."
"How long did it take to master your art?"
"Twelve years."
"For manufacturing scents by astral means! It seems, my honored
saint, you have been wasting a dozen years for fragrances which
you can obtain with a few rupees from a florist's shop."
"Perfumes fade with flowers."
"Perfumes fade with death. Why should I desire that which pleases
the body only?"
"Mr. Philosopher, you please my mind. Now, stretch forth your right
hand." He made a gesture of blessing.
I was a few feet away from Gandha Baba; no one else was near
enough to contact my body. I extended my hand, which the yogi did
not touch.
"What perfume do you want?"
"Rose."
"Be it so."
To my great surprise, the charming fragrance of rose was wafted
strongly from the center of my palm. I smilingly took a large white
scentless flower from a near-by vase.
"Can this odorless blossom be permeated with jasmine?"
"Be it so."
A jasmine fragrance instantly shot from the petals. I thanked the
wonder-worker and seated myself by one of his students. He informed
me that Gandha Baba, whose proper name was Vishudhananda, had
learned many astonishing yoga secrets from a master in Tibet.
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