Wright's sparkling travel diary.
"We rode in the Ford across the very low Ganges on a creaking
pontoon bridge, crawling snakelike through the crowds and over
narrow, twisting lanes, passing the site on the river bank which
Yoganandaji pointed out to me as the meeting place of Babaji and
Sri Yukteswarji. Alighting from the car a short time later, we
walked some distance through the thickening smoke of the sadhus'
fires and over the slippery sands to reach a cluster of tiny,
very modest mud-and-straw huts. We halted in front of one of these
insignificant temporary dwellings, with a pygmy doorless entrance,
the shelter of Kara Patri, a young wandering sadhu noted for his
exceptional intelligence. There he sat, cross-legged on a pile of
straw, his only covering-and incidentally his only possession-being
an ocher cloth draped over his shoulders.
"Truly a divine face smiled at us after we had crawled on all fours
into the hut and PRONAMED at the feet of this enlightened soul,
while the kerosene lantern at the entrance flickered weird, dancing
shadows on the thatched walls. His face, especially his eyes
and perfect teeth, beamed and glistened. Although I was puzzled
by the Hindi, his expressions were very revealing; he was full of
enthusiasm, love, spiritual glory. No one could be mistaken as to
his greatness.
"Imagine the happy life of one unattached to the material world;
free of the clothing problem; free of food craving, never begging,
never touching cooked food except on alternate days, never carrying
a begging bowl; free of all money entanglements, never handling
money, never storing things away, always trusting in God; free
of transportation worries, never riding in vehicles, but always
walking on the banks of the sacred rivers; never remaining in one
place longer than a week in order to avoid any growth of attachment.
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