Autobiography of a Yogi
“‘What do you think of the KUMBHA MELA?’
“‘I was greatly disappointed, sir.’ I added hastily, ‘Up until the
time I met you. Somehow saints and this commotion don’t seem to
belong together.’
“‘Child,’ the master said, though apparently I was nearly twice
his own age, ‘for the faults of the many, judge not the whole.
Everything on earth is of mixed character, like a mingling of sand
and sugar. Be like the wise ant which seizes only the sugar, and
leaves the sand untouched. Though many sadhus here still wander in
delusion, yet the MELA is blessed by a few men of God-realization.’
“In view of my own meeting with this exalted master, I quickly
agreed with his observation.
“‘Sir,’ I commented, ‘I have been thinking of the scientific
men of the West, greater by far in intelligence than most people
congregated here, living in distant Europe and America, professing
different creeds, and ignorant of the real values of such MELAS
as the present one. They are the men who could benefit greatly by
meetings with India’s masters. But, although high in intellectual
attainments, many Westerners are wedded to rank materialism. Others,
famous in science and philosophy, do not recognize the essential
unity in religion. Their creeds serve as insurmountable barriers
that threaten to separate them from us forever.’
“‘I saw that you are interested in the West, as well as the East.’
Babaji’s face beamed with approval. ‘I felt the pangs of your heart,
broad enough for all men, whether Oriental or Occidental. That is
why I summoned you here.
“‘East and West must establish a golden middle path of activity
and spirituality combined,’ he continued. ‘India has much to learn
from the West in material development; in return, India can teach
the universal methods by which the West will be able to base its
religious beliefs on the unshakable foundations of yogic science.
“‘You, Swamiji, have a part to play in the coming harmonious exchange
between Orient and Occident. Some years hence I shall send you
a disciple whom you can train for yoga dissemination in the West.
The vibrations there of many spiritually seeking souls come floodlike
to me. I perceive potential saints in America and Europe, waiting
to be awakened.’”
At this point in his story, Sri Yukteswar turned his gaze fully on
mine.
“My son,” he said, smiling in the moonlight, “you are the disciple
that, years ago, Babaji promised to send me.”
I was happy to learn that Babaji had directed my steps to Sri
Yukteswar, yet it was hard for me to visualize myself in the remote
West, away from my beloved guru and the simple hermitage peace.
“Babaji then spoke of the BHAGAVAD GITA,” Sri Yukteswar went on.
“To my astonishment, he indicated by a few words of praise that he
was aware of the fact that I had written interpretations on various
GITA chapters.
“‘At my request, Swamiji, please undertake another task,’ the great
master said. ‘Will you not write a short book on the underlying
basic unity between the Christian and Hindu scriptures? Show by
parallel references that the inspired sons of God have spoken the
same truths, now obscured by men’s sectarian differences.’
“‘Maharaj,’ {FN36-2} I answered diffidently, ‘what a command! Shall
I be able to fulfill it?’
“Babaji laughed softly. ‘My son, why do you doubt?’ he said
reassuringly. ‘Indeed, Whose work is all this, and Who is the
Doer of all actions? Whatever the Lord has made me say is bound to
materialize as truth.’
“I deemed myself empowered by the blessings of the saint, and agreed
to write the book. Feeling reluctantly that the parting-hour had
arrived, I rose from my leafy seat.
“‘Do you know Lahiri?’ {FN36-3} the master inquired. ‘He is a
great soul, isn’t he? Tell him of our meeting.’ He then gave me a
message for Lahiri Mahasaya.
“After I had bowed humbly in farewell, the saint smiled benignly.
‘When your book is finished, I shall pay you a visit,’ he promised.
‘Good-by for the present.’
“I left Allahabad the following day and entrained for Benares.
Reaching my guru’s home, I poured out the story of the wonderful
saint at the KUMBHA MELA.
“‘Oh, didn’t you recognize him?’ Lahiri Mahasaya’s eyes were dancing
with laughter. ‘I see you couldn’t, for he prevented you. He is my
incomparable guru, the celestial Babaji!’
“‘Babaji!’ I repeated, awestruck. ‘The Yogi-Christ Babaji! The
invisible-visible savior Babaji! Oh, if I could just recall the
past and be once more in his presence, to show my devotion at his
lotus feet!’
“‘Never mind,’ Lahiri Mahasaya said consolingly. ‘He has promised
to see you again.’
“‘Gurudeva, the divine master asked me to give you a message. “Tell
Lahiri,” he said, “that the stored-up power for this life now runs
low; it is nearly finished.”’
“At my utterance of these enigmatic words, Lahiri Mahasaya’s figure
trembled as though touched by a lightning current. In an instant
everything about him fell silent; his smiling countenance turned
incredibly stern. Like a wooden statue, somber and immovable in
its seat, his body became colorless. I was alarmed and bewildered.
Never in my life had I seen this joyous soul manifest such awful
gravity. The other disciples present stared apprehensively.
“Three hours passed in utter silence. Then Lahiri Mahasaya resumed
his natural, cheerful demeanor, and spoke affectionately to each
of the chelas. Everyone sighed in relief.
“I realized by my master’s reaction that Babaji’s message had been
an unmistakable signal by which Lahiri Mahasaya understood that his
body would soon be untenanted. His awesome silence proved that
my guru had instantly controlled his being, cut his last cord
of attachment to the material world, and fled to his ever-living
identity in Spirit. Babaji’s remark had been his way of saying:
‘I shall be ever with you.’
“Though Babaji and Lahiri Mahasaya were omniscient, and had
no need of communicating with each other through me or any other
intermediary, the great ones often condescend to play a part in the
human drama. Occasionally they transmit their prophecies through
messengers in an ordinary way, that the final fulfillment of their
words may infuse greater divine faith in a wide circle of men who
later learn the story.
“I soon left Benares, and set to work in Serampore on the scriptural
writings requested by Babaji,” Sri Yukteswar continued. “No sooner
had I begun my task than I was able to compose a poem dedicated to
the deathless guru. The melodious lines flowed effortlessly from
my pen, though never before had I attempted Sanskrit poetry.
“In the quiet of night I busied myself over a comparison of the
Bible and the scriptures of SANATAN DHARMA. {FN36-4} Quoting the
words of the blessed Lord Jesus, I showed that his teachings were
in essence one with the revelations of the VEDAS. To my relief,
my book was finished in a short time; I realized that this speedy
blessing was due to the grace of my PARAM-GURU-MAHARAJ. {FN36-5}
The chapters first appeared in the SADHUSAMBAD journal; later they
were privately printed as a book by one of my Kidderpore disciples.
“The morning after I had concluded my literary efforts,” Master
continued, “I went to the Rai Ghat here to bathe in the Ganges.
The ghat was deserted; I stood still for awhile, enjoying the sunny
peace. After a dip in the sparkling waters, I started for home.
The only sound in the silence was that of my Ganges-drenched cloth,
swish-swashing with every step. As I passed beyond the site of the
large banyan tree near the river bank, a strong impulse urged me
to look back. There, under the shade of the banyan, and surrounded
by a few disciples, sat the great Babaji!
“‘Greetings, Swamiji!’ The beautiful voice of the master rang
out to assure me I was not dreaming. ‘I see you have successfully
completed your book. As I promised, I am here to thank you.’
“With a fast-beating heart, I prostrated myself fully at his feet.
‘Param-guruji,’ I said imploringly, ‘will you and your chelas not
honor my near-by home with your presence?’
“The supreme guru smilingly declined. ‘No, child,’ he said, ‘we are
people who like the shelter of trees; this spot is quite comfortable.’
“‘Please tarry awhile, Master.’ I gazed entreatingly at him. ‘I
shall be back at once with some special sweetmeats.’
“When I returned in a few minutes with a dish of delicacies, lo! the
lordly banyan no longer sheltered the celestial troupe. I searched
all around the ghat, but in my heart I knew the little band had
already fled on etheric wings.
“I was deeply hurt. ‘Even if we meet again, I would not care to talk
to him,’ I assured myself. ‘He was unkind to leave me so suddenly.’
This was a wrath of love, of course, and nothing more.
“A few months later I visited Lahiri Mahasaya in Benares. As I
entered his little parlor, my guru smiled in greeting.
“‘Welcome, Yukteswar,’ he said. ‘Did you just meet Babaji at the
threshold of my room?’
“‘Why, no,’ I answered in surprise.
“‘Come here.’ Lahiri Mahasaya touched me gently on the forehead;
at once I beheld, near the door, the form of Babaji, blooming like
a perfect lotus.
“I remembered my old hurt, and did not bow. Lahiri Mahasaya looked
at me in astonishment.
“The divine guru gazed at me with fathomless eyes. ‘You are annoyed
with me.’
“‘Sir, why shouldn’t I be?’ I answered. ‘Out of the air you came
with your magic group, and into the thin air you vanished.’
“‘I told you I would see you, but didn’t say how long I would remain.’
Babaji laughed softly. ‘You were full of excitement. I assure you
that I was fairly extinguished in the ether by the gust of your
restlessness.’
“I was instantly satisfied by this unflattering explanation. I
knelt at his feet; the supreme guru patted me kindly on the shoulder.
“‘Child, you must meditate more,’ he said. ‘Your gaze is not yet
faultless-you could not see me hiding behind the sunlight.’ With
these words in the voice of a celestial flute, Babaji disappeared
into the hidden radiance.
“That was one of my last visits to Benares to see my guru,” Sri
Yukteswar concluded. “Even as Babaji had foretold at the KUMBHA
MELA, the householder-incarnation of Lahiri Mahasaya was drawing
to a close. During the summer of 1895 his stalwart body developed
a small boil on the back. He protested against lancing; he was working
out in his own flesh the evil karma of some of his disciples. Finally
a few chelas became very insistent; the master replied cryptically:
“‘The body has to find a cause to go; I will be agreeable to whatever
you want to do.’
“A short time later the incomparable guru gave up his body in
Benares. No longer need I seek him out in his little parlor; I
find every day of my life blessed by his omnipresent guidance.”
Years later, from the lips of Swami Keshabananda, {FN36-6} an
advanced disciple, I heard many wonderful details about the passing
of Lahiri Mahasaya.
“A few days before my guru relinquished his body,” Keshabananda told
me, “he materialized himself before me as I sat in my hermitage at
Hardwar.
“‘Come at once to Benares.’ With these words Lahiri Mahasaya
vanished.
“I entrained immediately for Benares. At my guru’s home I found
many disciples assembled. For hours that day {FN36-7} the master
expounded the GITA; then he addressed us simply.
“‘I am going home.’
“Sobs of anguish broke out like an irresistible torrent.
“‘Be comforted; I shall rise again.’ After this utterance Lahiri
Mahasaya thrice turned his body around in a circle, faced the north
in his lotus posture, and gloriously entered the final MAHA-SAMADHI.
{FN36-8}
“Lahiri Mahasaya’s beautiful body, so dear to the devotees, was
cremated with solemn householder rites at Manikarnika Ghat by the
holy Ganges,” Keshabananda continued. “The following day, at ten