" I doubtless looked as
bewildered as I felt.
"All-pervading, eh?" The saint chuckled. "Then why, young sir,
did you fail to bow before the Infinite in the stone symbol at the
Tarakeswar temple yesterday? {FN13-2} Your pride caused you the
punishment of being misdirected by the passer-by who was not bothered
by fine distinctions of left and right. Today, too, you have had
a fairly uncomfortable time of it!"
I agreed wholeheartedly, wonder-struck that an omniscient eye hid
within the unremarkable body before me. Healing strength emanated
from the yogi; I was instantly refreshed in the scorching field.
"The devotee inclines to think his path to God is the only way," he
said. "Yoga, through which divinity is found within, is doubtless
the highest road: so Lahiri Mahasaya has told us. But discovering
the Lord within, we soon perceive Him without. Holy shrines at
Tarakeswar and elsewhere are rightly venerated as nuclear centers
of spiritual power."
The saint's censorious attitude vanished; his eyes became
compassionately soft. He patted my shoulder.
"Young yogi, I see you are running away from your master. He
has everything you need; you must return to him. Mountains cannot
be your guru." Ram Gopal was repeating the same thought which Sri
Yukteswar had expressed at our last meeting.
"Masters are under no cosmic compulsion to limit their residence."
My companion glanced at me quizzically.
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