"Let Mukunda come when he will." The sage's eyes twinkled. "My rule
of seclusion is not for my own comfort, but for that of others.
Worldly people do not like the candor which shatters their delusions.
Saints are not only rare but disconcerting. Even in scripture, they
are often found embarrassing!"
I followed Bhaduri Mahasaya to his austere quarters on the top floor,
from which he seldom stirred. Masters often ignore the panorama
of the world's ado, out of focus till centered in the ages. The
contemporaries of a sage are not alone those of the narrow present.
"Maharishi, {FN7-5} you are the first yogi I have known who always
stays indoors."
"God plants his saints sometimes in unexpected soil, lest we think
we may reduce Him to a rule!"
The sage locked his vibrant body in the lotus posture. In his
seventies, he displayed no unpleasing signs of age or sedentary life.
Stalwart and straight, he was ideal in every respect. His face was
that of a RISHI, as described in the ancient texts. Noble-headed,
abundantly bearded, he always sat firmly upright, his quiet eyes
fixed on Omnipresence.
The saint and I entered the meditative state. After an hour, his
gentle voice roused me.
"You go often into the silence, but have you developed ANUBHAVA?"
{FN7-6} He was reminding me to love God more than meditation. "Do
not mistake the technique for the Goal."
He offered me some mangoes. With that good-humored wit that I found
so delightful in his grave nature, he remarked, "People in general
are more fond of JALA YOGA (union with food) than of DHYANA YOGA
(union with God).
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