"The Himalayas in India
and Tibet have no monopoly on saints. What one does not trouble to
find within will not be discovered by transporting the body hither
and yon. As soon as the devotee is WILLING to go even to the ends
of the earth for spiritual enlightenment, his guru appears near-by."
I silently agreed, recalling my prayer in the Benares hermitage,
followed by the meeting with Sri Yukteswar in a crowded lane.
"Are you able to have a little room where you can close the door
and be alone?"
"Yes." I reflected that this saint descended from the general to
the particular with disconcerting speed.
"That is your cave." The yogi bestowed on me a gaze of illumination
which I have never forgotten. "That is your sacred mountain. That
is where you will find the kingdom of God."
His simple words instantaneously banished my lifelong obsession for
the Himalayas. In a burning paddy field I awoke from the monticolous
dreams of eternal snows.
"Young sir, your divine thirst is laudable. I feel great love for
you." Ram Gopal took my hand and led me to a quaint hamlet. The
adobe houses were covered with coconut leaves and adorned with
rustic entrances.
The saint seated me on the umbrageous bamboo platform of his small
cottage. After giving me sweetened lime juice and a piece of rock
candy, he entered his patio and assumed the lotus posture. In about
four hours I opened my meditative eyes and saw that the moonlit
figure of the yogi was still motionless.
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