"Such a modest soul! unusually learned in the VEDAS, and possessing
an M.A. degree and the title of SHASTRI (master of scriptures) from
Benares University. A sublime feeling pervaded me as I sat at his
feet; it all seemed to be an answer to my desire to see the real,
the ancient India, for he is a true representative of this land of
spiritual giants."
I questioned Kara Patri about his wandering life. "Don't you have
any extra clothes for winter?"
"No, this is enough."
"Do you carry any books?"
"No, I teach from memory those people who wish to hear me."
"What else do you do?"
"I roam by the Ganges."
At these quiet words, I was overpowered by a yearning for the simplicity
of his life. I remembered America, and all the responsibilities
that lay on my shoulders.
"No, Yogananda," I thought, sadly for a moment, "in this life
roaming by the Ganges is not for you."
After the sadhu had told me a few of his spiritual realizations,
I shot an abrupt question.
"Are you giving these descriptions from scriptural lore, or from
inward experience?"
"Half from book learning," he answered with a straightforward smile,
"and half from experience."
We sat happily awhile in meditative silence. After we had left his
sacred presence, I said to Mr. Wright, "He is a king sitting on a
throne of golden straw."
We had our dinner that night on the MELA grounds under the stars,
eating from leaf plates pinned together with sticks.
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