" I brooded
over the matter, feeling like a goat awaiting sacrifice before the
temple of triple matrimony.
"You may as well be resigned to your fate," my brother Ananta had
remarked. "Your written horoscope has correctly stated that you
would fly from home toward the Himalayas during your early years,
but would be forcibly returned. The forecast of your marriages is
also bound to be true."
A clear intuition came to me one night that the prophecy was wholly
false. I set fire to the horoscope scroll, placing the ashes in a
paper bag on which I wrote: "Seeds of past karma cannot germinate
if they are roasted in the divine fires of wisdom." I put the bag
in a conspicuous spot; Ananta immediately read my defiant comment.
"You cannot destroy truth as easily as you have burnt this paper
scroll." My brother laughed scornfully.
It is a fact that on three occasions before I reached manhood, my
family tried to arrange my betrothal. Each time I refused to fall
in with the plans, {FN16-3} knowing that my love for God was more
overwhelming than any astrological persuasion from the past.
"The deeper the self-realization of a man, the more he influences
the whole universe by his subtle spiritual vibrations, and the
less he himself is affected by the phenomenal flux." These words
of Master's often returned inspiringly to my mind.
Occasionally I told astrologers to select my worst periods, according
to planetary indications, and I would still accomplish whatever
task I set myself.
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