We made a pilgrimage to the ancient Srinagar temple of Swami
Shankara. As I gazed upon the mountain-peak hermitage, standing
bold against the sky, I fell into an ecstatic trance. A vision
appeared of a hilltop mansion in a distant land. The lofty Shankara
ashram before me was transformed into the structure where, years
later, I established the Self-Realization Fellowship headquarters
in America. When I first visited Los Angeles, and saw the large
building on the crest of Mount Washington, I recognized it at once
from my long-past visions in Kashmir and elsewhere.
A few days at Srinagar; then on to Gulmarg ("mountain paths of
flowers"), elevated by six thousand feet. There I had my first ride
on a large horse. Rajendra mounted a small trotter, whose heart
was fired with ambition for speed. We ventured onto the very steep
Khilanmarg; the path led through a dense forest, abounding in
tree-mushrooms, where the mist-shrouded trails were often precarious.
But Rajendra's little animal never permitted my oversized steed a
moment's rest, even at the most perilous turns. On, on, untiringly
came Rajendra's horse, oblivious to all but the joy of competition.
Our strenuous race was rewarded by a breath-taking view. For
the first time in this life, I gazed in all directions at sublime
snow-capped Himalayas, lying tier upon tier like silhouettes of
huge polar bears. My eyes feasted exultingly on endless reaches
of icy mountains against sunny blue skies.
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