"
"I do not think you will meet him there." My guru then fell into
silence, not wishing to obstruct my plans.
When I set out for Allahabad the following day with a small group,
Master blessed me quietly in his usual manner. Apparently I was
remaining oblivious to implications in Sri Yukteswar's attitude
because the Lord wished to spare me the experience of being forced,
helplessly, to witness my guru's passing. It has always happened in
my life that, at the death of those dearly beloved by me, God has
compassionately arranged that I be distant from the scene. {FN42-7}
Our party reached the KUMBHA MELA on January 23, 1936. The surging
crowd of nearly two million persons was an impressive sight, even
an overwhelming one. The peculiar genius of the Indian people is
the reverence innate in even the lowliest peasant for the worth of
the Spirit, and for the monks and sadhus who have forsaken worldly
ties to seek a diviner anchorage. Imposters and hypocrites there
are indeed, but India respects all for the sake of the few who
illumine the whole land with supernal blessings. Westerners who
were viewing the vast spectacle had a unique opportunity to feel
the pulse of the land, the spiritual ardor to which India owes her
quenchless vitality before the blows of time.
[Illustration: The woman yogi, Shankari Mai Jiew, only living
disciple of the great Trailanga Swami. The turbaned figure seated
directly beside her is Swami Benoyananda, a director of our Ranchi
yoga school for boys in Bihar.
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