Inasmuch as great masters seldom see fit to
display their powers openly, a casual observer of the day's events
would have imagined that their sequence was quite natural. My guru's
intervention had been too subtle to be suspected. He had worked
his will through Behari and my Uncle Sarada and Rajendra and the
others in such an inconspicuous manner that probably everyone but
myself thought the situations had been logically normal.
As Sri Yukteswar never failed to observe his social obligations,
he instructed Kanai to go for a specialist, and to notify my uncle.
"Master," I protested, "only you can heal me. I am too far gone
for any doctor."
"Child, you are protected by the Divine Mercy. Don't worry about
the doctor; he will not find you in this state. You are already
healed."
With my guru's words, the excruciating suffering left me. I sat up
feebly. A doctor soon arrived and examined me carefully.
"You appear to have passed through the worst," he said. "I will
take some specimens with me for laboratory tests."
The following morning the physician arrived hurriedly. I was sitting
up, in good spirits.
"Well, well, here you are, smiling and chatting as though you had
had no close call with death." He patted my hand gently. "I hardly
expected to find you alive, after I had discovered from the specimens
that your disease was Asiatic cholera. You are fortunate, young
man, to have a guru with divine healing powers! I am convinced of
it!"
I agreed wholeheartedly.
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