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Yogananda, Paramahansa, 1893-1952

"Autobiography of a Yogi"


"Occasionally I left my seclusion to visit my guru in Benares. He
used to joke with me over my ceaseless travels in the Himalayan
wilderness.
"'You have the mark of wanderlust on your foot,' he told me once.
'I am glad that the sacred Himalayas are extensive enough to engross
you.'
"Many times," Keshabananda went on, "both before and after his
passing, Lahiri Mahasaya has appeared bodily before me. For him no
Himalayan height is inaccessible!"
Two hours later he led us to a dining patio. I sighed in silent
dismay. Another fifteen-course meal! Less than a year of Indian
hospitality, and I had gained fifty pounds! Yet it would have been
considered the height of rudeness to refuse any of the dishes,
carefully prepared for the endless banquets in my honor. In India
(nowhere else, alas!) a well-padded swami is considered a delightful
sight. {FN42-10}
[Illustration: Mr. Wright, myself, Miss Bletch--in Egypt--see
camel.jpg]
[Illustration: Rabindranath Tagore, inspired poet of Bengal, and
Nobel Prizeman in literature--see tagore.jpg]
[Illustration: Mr. Wright and I pose with the venerable Swami
Keshabananda and a disciple at the stately hermitage in Brindaban--see
keshabananda.jpg]
After dinner, Keshabananda led me to a secluded nook.
"Your arrival is not unexpected," he said. "I have a message for
you."
I was surprised; no one had known of my plan to visit Keshabananda.
"While roaming last year in the northern Himalayas near Badrinarayan,"
the swami continued, "I lost my way.


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