Chapter 21

We Visit Kashmir

15 min

“You are strong enough now to travel. I will accompany you to Kashmir,” Sri Yukteswar informed me two days after my miraculous recovery from Asiatic cholera.

“You are strong enough to travel now. I’ll go with you to Kashmir,” Sri Yukteswar told me two days after my miraculous recovery from Asiatic cholera.

That evening our party of six entrained for the north. Our first leisurely stop was at Simla, a queenly city resting on the throne of Himalayan hills. We strolled over the steep streets, admiring the magnificent views.

That evening, the six of us boarded a train heading north. Our first relaxed stop was at Simla, a city sitting like a queen on a throne of Himalayan hills. We strolled along the steep streets, admiring the magnificent views.

“English strawberries for sale,” cried an old woman, squatting in a picturesque open market place.

“English strawberries for sale,” called an old woman, squatting in a charming open-air market.

Master was curious about the strange little red fruits. He bought a basketful and offered it to Kanai and myself, who were near-by. I tasted one berry but spat it hastily on the ground.

Master was curious about the strange little red fruits. He bought a basketful and offered the fruit to Kanai and me, who were nearby. I tasted one berry but quickly spat it onto the ground.

“Sir, what a sour fruit! I could never like strawberries!”

“Sir, this fruit is so sour! I could never like strawberries!”

My guru laughed. “Oh, you will like them-in America. At a dinner there, your hostess will serve them with sugar and cream. After she has mashed the berries with a fork, you will taste them and say: ‘What delicious strawberries!’ Then you will remember this day in Simla.”

My guru laughed. “Oh, you will like them in America. At a dinner there, your hostess will serve the strawberries with sugar and cream. After she has mashed the berries with a fork, you will taste them and say: ‘What delicious strawberries!’ Then you will remember this day in Simla.”

Sri Yukteswar’s forecast vanished from my mind, but reappeared there many years later, shortly after my arrival in America. I was a dinner guest at the home of Mrs. Alice T. Hasey (Sister Yogmata) in West Somerville, Massachusetts. When a dessert of strawberries was put on the table, my hostess picked up her fork and mashed my berries, adding cream and sugar. “The fruit is rather tart; I think you will like it fixed this way,” she remarked.

I forgot Sri Yukteswar’s prediction, but remembered it many years later, shortly after I arrived in America. I was a dinner guest at the home of Mrs. Alice T. Hasey (Sister Yogmata) in West Somerville, Massachusetts. When strawberries were served for dessert, my hostess picked up her fork and mashed my berries, adding cream and sugar. “The fruit is rather tart. I think you will like the berries prepared this way,” she said.

I took a mouthful. “What delicious strawberries!” I exclaimed. At once my guru’s prediction in Simla emerged from the fathomless cave of memory. It was staggering to realize that long ago Sri Yukteswar’s God-tuned mind had sensitively detected the program of karmic events wandering in the ether of futurity.

I took a mouthful. “What delicious strawberries!” I exclaimed. At once, my guru’s prediction in Simla resurfaced from the depths of my memory. The realization stunned me. Long ago, Sri Yukteswar’s mind, attuned to God, had sensed the unfolding plan of karmic events drifting through the ether of the future.

Our party soon left Simla and entrained for Rawalpindi. There we hired a large landau, drawn by two horses, in which we started a seven-day trip to Srinagar, capital city of Kashmir. The second day of our northbound journey brought into view the true Himalayan vastness. As the iron wheels of our carriage creaked along the hot, stony roads, we were enraptured with changing vistas of mountainous grandeur.

Our group soon left Simla and took a train to Rawalpindi. There we hired a large carriage drawn by two horses. In this carriage, we began a seven-day trip to Srinagar, the capital of Kashmir. On the second day of our journey north, the true vastness of the Himalayas came into view. As our carriage’s iron wheels creaked along the hot, stony roads, we were enchanted by the changing, magnificent mountain views.

“Sir,” Auddy said to Master, “I am greatly enjoying these glorious scenes in your holy company.”

“Sir,” Auddy said to Master, “I’m really enjoying these magnificent views in your holy presence.”

I felt a throb of pleasure at Auddy’s appreciation, for I was acting as host on this trip. Sri Yukteswar caught my thought; he turned to me and whispered:

I felt a surge of pleasure at Auddy’s appreciation because I was hosting the trip. Sri Yukteswar picked up on my thought. He turned to me and whispered:

“Don’t flatter yourself; Auddy is not nearly as entranced with the scenery as he is with the prospect of leaving us long enough to have a cigaret.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Auddy is far less interested in the scenery than in getting away from us long enough to have a cigarette.”

I was shocked. “Sir,” I said in an undertone, “please do not break our harmony by these unpleasant words. I can hardly believe that Auddy is hankering for a smoke.” [^21] I looked apprehensively at my usually irrepressible guru.

I was shocked. “Sir,” I said quietly, “please don’t spoil our harmony with these unpleasant words. I can hardly believe that Auddy is craving a smoke.” [^21] I looked anxiously at my usually irrepressible guru.

“Very well; I won’t say anything to Auddy.” Master chuckled. “But you will soon see, when the landau halts, that Auddy is quick to seize his opportunity.”

“All right. I won’t say anything to Auddy.” Master chuckled. “But when the carriage stops, you’ll soon see that Auddy is quick to seize his opportunity.”

The carriage arrived at a small caravanserai. As our horses were led to be watered, Auddy inquired, “Sir, do you mind if I ride awhile with the driver? I would like to get a little outside air.”

The carriage arrived at a small inn for travelers. As our horses were led away for water, Auddy asked, “Sir, do you mind if I ride with the driver for a while? I would like to get a little fresh air.”

Sri Yukteswar gave permission, but remarked to me, “He wants fresh smoke and not fresh air.”

Sri Yukteswar gave permission, but said to me, “He wants fresh smoke, not fresh air.”

The landau resumed its noisy progress over the dusty roads. Master’s eyes were twinkling; he instructed me, “Crane up your neck through the carriage door and see what Auddy is doing with the air.”

The carriage rattled on along the dusty roads. Master’s eyes twinkled. He told me, “Stretch your neck up through the carriage door and see what Auddy is doing with the air.”

I obeyed, and was astounded to observe Auddy in the act of exhaling rings of cigaret smoke. My glance toward Sri Yukteswar was apologetic.

I obeyed and was astonished to see Auddy blowing rings of cigarette smoke. I glanced apologetically at Sri Yukteswar.

“You are right, as always, sir. Auddy is enjoying a puff along with a panorama.” I surmised that my friend had received a gift from the cab driver; I knew Auddy had not carried any cigarets from Calcutta.

“You are right, as always, sir. Auddy is enjoying a smoke along with the view.” I guessed my friend had received a gift from the cab driver. I knew Auddy had not brought any cigarettes from Calcutta.

We continued on the labyrinthine way, adorned by views of rivers, valleys, precipitous crags, and multitudinous mountain tiers. Every night we stopped at rustic inns, and prepared our own food. Sri Yukteswar took special care of my diet, insisting that I have lime juice at all meals. I was still weak, but daily improving, though the rattling carriage was strictly designed for discomfort.

We continued along the winding route, with views of rivers, valleys, steep cliffs, and countless layers of mountains. Every night we stopped at simple country inns and prepared our own food. Sri Yukteswar took special care of my diet, insisting that I drink lime juice with every meal. I was still weak but improving daily, though the rattling carriage seemed designed solely for discomfort.

Joyous anticipations filled our hearts as we neared central Kashmir, paradise land of lotus lakes, floating gardens, gaily canopied houseboats, the many-bridged Jhelum River, and flower-strewn pastures, all ringed round by the Himalayan majesty. Our approach to Srinagar was through an avenue of tall, welcoming trees. We engaged rooms at a double-storied inn overlooking the noble hills. No running water was available; we drew our supply from a near-by well. The summer weather was ideal, with warm days and slightly cold nights.

Our hearts filled with joyful anticipation as we neared central Kashmir. This paradise had lotus lakes, floating gardens, houseboats with colorful canopies, the many-bridged Jhelum River, and flower-covered pastures. The majestic Himalayas surrounded it all. We approached Srinagar along an avenue of tall, welcoming trees. We rented rooms at a two-story inn overlooking the grand hills. There was no running water, so we drew our water from a nearby well. The summer weather was ideal, with warm days and slightly chilly nights.

We made a pilgrimage to the ancient Srinagar temple of Swami Shankara. As I gazed upon the mountain-peak hermitage, standing bold against the sky, I fell into an ecstatic trance. A vision appeared of a hilltop mansion in a distant land. The lofty Shankara ashram before me was transformed into the structure where, years later, I established the Self-Realization Fellowship headquarters in America. When I first visited Los Angeles, and saw the large building on the crest of Mount Washington, I recognized it at once from my long-past visions in Kashmir and elsewhere.

We made a pilgrimage to the ancient temple of Swami Shankara in Srinagar. As I gazed at the mountaintop hermitage, standing out against the sky, I fell into an ecstatic trance. I saw a vision of a hilltop mansion in a distant land. The Shankara ashram high before me transformed into the building where, years later, I established the Self-Realization Fellowship headquarters in America. When I first visited Los Angeles, I saw the large building at the top of Mount Washington. I immediately recognized the building from visions I had seen long before in Kashmir and elsewhere.

A few days at Srinagar; then on to Gulmarg (“mountain paths of flowers”), elevated by six thousand feet. There I had my first ride on a large horse. Rajendra mounted a small trotter, whose heart was fired with ambition for speed. We ventured onto the very steep Khilanmarg; the path led through a dense forest, abounding in tree-mushrooms, where the mist-shrouded trails were often precarious. But Rajendra’s little animal never permitted my oversized steed a moment’s rest, even at the most perilous turns. On, on, untiringly came Rajendra’s horse, oblivious to all but the joy of competition.

After a few days in Srinagar, we went on to Gulmarg (“mountain paths of flowers”), six thousand feet up. There I rode a large horse for the first time. Rajendra rode a small trotting horse with a burning desire for speed. We ventured onto the very steep Khilanmarg. The path led through a dense forest full of mushrooms growing on trees. Mist covered the forest trails, making the footing often dangerous. But Rajendra’s little horse never gave my oversized horse a moment’s rest, even at the most dangerous turns. On and on Rajendra’s horse came, never tiring, aware of nothing but the joy of competition.

Our strenuous race was rewarded by a breath-taking view. For the first time in this life, I gazed in all directions at sublime snow-capped Himalayas, lying tier upon tier like silhouettes of huge polar bears. My eyes feasted exultingly on endless reaches of icy mountains against sunny blue skies.

Our hard race was rewarded with a breathtaking view. For the first time in this life, I looked in every direction at the magnificent, snow-capped Himalayas. The mountains rose in layers like the silhouettes of huge polar bears. My eyes joyfully took in endless stretches of icy mountains against sunny blue skies.

I rolled merrily with my young companions, all wearing overcoats, on the sparkling white slopes. On our downward trip we saw afar a vast carpet of yellow flowers, wholly transfiguring the bleak hills.

I rolled happily with my young companions on the sparkling white slopes, all of us wearing overcoats. On our way down, we saw a vast carpet of yellow flowers in the distance. The flowers completely transformed the bleak hills.

Our next excursions were to the famous royal “pleasure gardens” of the Emperor Jehangir, at Shalimar and Nishat Bagh. The ancient palace at Nishat Bagh is built directly over a natural waterfall. Rushing down from the mountains, the torrent has been regulated through ingenious contrivances to flow over colorful terraces and to gush into fountains amidst the dazzling flower-beds. The stream also enters several of the palace rooms, ultimately dropping fairy like into the lake below. The immense gardens are riotous with color- roses of a dozen hues, snapdragons, lavender, pansies, poppies. An emerald enclosing outline is given by symmetrical rows of chinars , [^21] cypresses, cherry trees; beyond them tower the white austerities of the Himalayas.

Our next trips were to Emperor Jehangir’s famous royal “pleasure gardens” at Shalimar and Nishat Bagh. The ancient palace at Nishat Bagh stands directly over a natural waterfall. The rushing mountain water is channeled by clever devices over colorful terraces and into fountains among dazzling flower beds. The stream also flows through several palace rooms before falling into the lake below like something from a fairy tale. The immense gardens burst with color: roses in a dozen shades, snapdragons, lavender, pansies, and poppies. Symmetrical rows of chinars, [^21] cypresses, and cherry trees form an emerald border around the gardens. Beyond the trees rise the stark white peaks of the Himalayas.

Kashmir grapes are considered a rare delicacy in Calcutta. Rajendra, who had been promising himself a veritable feast on reaching Kashmir, was disappointed to find there no large vineyards. Now and then I chaffed him jocosely over his baseless anticipation.

Kashmir grapes are considered a rare delicacy in Calcutta. Rajendra had been promising himself a real feast when he reached Kashmir. But he was disappointed to find no large vineyards there. Now and then I playfully teased him about his unfounded expectations.

“Oh, I have become so much gorged with grapes I can’t walk!” I would say. “The invisible grapes are brewing within me!” Later I heard that sweet grapes grow abundantly in Kabul, west of Kashmir. We consoled ourselves with ice cream made of rabri , a heavily condensed milk, and flavored with whole pistachio nuts.

“Oh, I’ve eaten so many grapes I can’t walk!” I would say. “The invisible grapes are fermenting inside me!” Later I heard that sweet grapes grow abundantly in Kabul, west of Kashmir. We consoled ourselves with ice cream made from rabri, a thick, condensed milk, and flavored with whole pistachio nuts.

We took several trips in the shikaras or houseboats, shaded by red- embroidered canopies, coursing along the intricate channels of Dal Lake, a network of canals like a watery spider web. Here the numerous floating gardens, crudely improvised with logs and earth, strike one with amazement, so incongruous is the first sight of vegetables and melons growing in the midst of vast waters. Occasionally one sees a peasant, disdaining to be “rooted to the soil,” towing his square plot of “land” to a new location in the many-fingered lake.

We took several trips in the shikaras or houseboats, shaded by canopies embroidered in red. We traveled through Dal Lake’s winding channels, a network of canals like a watery spider web. The many floating gardens here, roughly built from logs and earth, are astonishing. At first, vegetables and melons seem so out of place growing amid vast stretches of water. Occasionally, you see a peasant who refuses to be “rooted to the soil.” He tows his square plot of “land” to a new spot in the lake, with its many fingerlike channels.

In this storied vale one finds an epitome of all the earth’s beauties. The Lady of Kashmir is mountain-crowned, lake-garlanded, and flower- shod. In later years, after I had toured many distant lands, I understood why Kashmir is often called the world’s most scenic spot. It possesses some of the charms of the Swiss Alps, and of Loch Lomond in Scotland, and of the exquisite English lakes. An American traveler in Kashmir finds much to remind him of the rugged grandeur of Alaska and of Pikes Peak near Denver.

This valley, rich in stories, brings together all the earth’s beauty. The Lady of Kashmir wears a crown of mountains, a garland of lakes, and shoes of flowers. In later years, after traveling through many distant lands, I understood why Kashmir is often called the world’s most scenic place. Kashmir has some of the charms of the Swiss Alps, Loch Lomond in Scotland, and the beautiful English lakes. An American traveler in Kashmir finds much that recalls the rugged grandeur of Alaska and Pikes Peak near Denver.

As entries in a scenic beauty contest, I offer for first prize either the gorgeous view of Xochimilco in Mexico, where mountains, skies, and poplars reflect themselves in myriad lanes of water amidst the playful fish, or the jewel-like lakes of Kashmir, guarded like beautiful maidens by the stern surveillance of the Himalayas. These two places stand out in my memory as the loveliest spots on earth.

In a contest for scenic beauty, I would give first prize to either of two places. One is the gorgeous view of Xochimilco in Mexico. There, mountains, skies, and poplars are reflected in countless waterways among playful fish. The other is the jewel-like lakes of Kashmir, guarded like beautiful young women under the stern watch of the Himalayas. These two places stand out in my memory as the loveliest spots on earth.

Yet I was awed also when I first beheld the wonders of Yellowstone National Park and of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, and of Alaska. Yellowstone Park is perhaps the only region where one can see innumerable geysers shooting high into the air, performing year after year with clockwork regularity. Its opal and sapphire pools and hot sulphurous springs, its bears and wild creatures, remind one that here Nature left a specimen of her earliest creation. Motoring along the roads of Wyoming to the “Devil’s Paint Pot” of hot bubbling mud, with gurgling springs, vaporous fountains, and spouting geysers in all directions, I was disposed to say that Yellowstone deserves a special prize for uniqueness.

Yet I was also awed when I first saw the wonders of Yellowstone National Park, the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, and Alaska. Yellowstone Park is perhaps the only region where countless geysers shoot high into the air with year-after-year, clockwork regularity. Its opal and sapphire pools, hot sulfurous springs, bears, and wild creatures recall a sample of Nature’s earliest creation. I drove along Wyoming’s roads to the “Devil’s Paint Pot” of hot, bubbling mud. Gurgling springs, steaming fountains, and spouting geysers surrounded me in all directions. The sights made me feel that Yellowstone deserves a special prize for being unique.

The ancient majestic redwoods of Yosemite, stretching their huge columns far into the unfathomable sky, are green natural cathedrals designed with skill divine. Though there are wonderful falls in the Orient, none match the torrential beauty of Niagara near the Canadian border. The Mammoth Caves of Kentucky and the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, with colorful iciclelike formations, are stunning fairylands. Their long needles of stalactite spires, hanging from cave ceilings and mirrored in underground waters, present a glimpse of other worlds as fancied by man.

The ancient, majestic redwoods of Yosemite stretch their massive trunks far into the sky’s limitless heights. These trees are green natural cathedrals, designed with divine skill. Though the Orient has wonderful waterfalls, none match the thundering beauty of Niagara near the Canadian border. The Mammoth Caves of Kentucky and the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico are stunning fairylands, with colorful, icicle-like formations. Long, needle-like stalactites hang from the cave ceilings and are reflected in underground waters. These formations offer a glimpse of other worlds as people have imagined them.

Most of the Hindus of Kashmir, world-famed for their beauty, are as white as Europeans and have similar features and bone structure; many have blue eyes and blonde hair. Dressed in Western clothes, they look like Americans. The cold Himalayas protect the Kashmiris from the sultry sun and preserve their light complexions. As one travels to the southern and tropical latitudes of India, he finds progressively that the people become darker and darker.

Most Hindus of Kashmir, famous worldwide for their beauty, have skin as light as Europeans. They also have similar facial features and bone structure. Many have blue eyes and blond hair. In Western clothes, these Kashmiris look like Americans. The cold Himalayas protect the Kashmiris from the intense heat of the sun and keep their skin light. As you travel south into India's tropical regions, you find that people's skin grows progressively darker.

After spending happy weeks in Kashmir, I was forced to return to Bengal for the fall term of Serampore College. Sri Yukteswar remained in Srinagar, with Kanai and Auddy. Before I departed, Master hinted that his body would be subject to suffering in Kashmir.

After several happy weeks in Kashmir, I had to return to Bengal for the fall term at Serampore College. Sri Yukteswar stayed in Srinagar with Kanai and Auddy. Before I left, Master hinted that he would suffer physically in Kashmir.

“Sir, you look a picture of health,” I protested.

“Sir, you look perfectly healthy,” I protested.

“There is a chance that I may even leave this earth.”

“I might even leave this earth.”

“Guruji!” I fell at his feet with an imploring gesture. “Please promise that you won’t leave your body now. I am utterly unprepared to carry on without you.”

“Guruji!” I fell at his feet, pleading. “Please promise you won’t leave your body now. I’m completely unprepared to carry on without you.”

Sri Yukteswar was silent, but smiled at me so compassionately that I felt reassured. Reluctantly I left him.

Sri Yukteswar said nothing, but smiled at me with such compassion that I felt reassured. I left him reluctantly.

“Master dangerously ill.” This telegram from Auddy reached me shortly after my return to Serampore.

“Master is dangerously ill.” I received this telegram from Auddy shortly after returning to Serampore.

“Sir,” I wired my guru frantically, “I asked for your promise not to leave me. Please keep your body; otherwise, I also shall die.”

“Sir,” I frantically telegraphed my guru, “I asked you to promise not to leave me. Please stay alive. Otherwise, I will die too.”

“Be it as you wish.” This was Sri Yukteswar’s reply from Kashmir.

“As you wish.” Sri Yukteswar sent this reply from Kashmir.

A letter from Auddy arrived in a few days, informing me that Master had recovered. On his return to Serampore during the next fortnight, I was grieved to find my guru’s body reduced to half its usual weight.

A letter from Auddy arrived a few days later, telling me that Master had recovered. When my guru returned to Serampore within the next two weeks, I was saddened to see his condition. His body was down to half its usual weight.

Fortunately for his disciples, Sri Yukteswar burned many of their sins in the fire of his severe fever in Kashmir. The metaphysical method of physical transfer of disease is known to highly advanced yogis. A strong man can assist a weaker one by helping to carry his heavy load; a spiritual superman is able to minimize his disciples’ physical or mental burdens by sharing the karma of their past actions. Just as a rich man loses some money when he pays off a large debt for his prodigal son, who is thus saved from dire consequences of his own folly, so a master willingly sacrifices a portion of his bodily wealth to lighten the misery of disciples. [^21]

Fortunately for his disciples, Sri Yukteswar burned away many of their sins through his severe fever in Kashmir. Highly advanced yogis know the metaphysical method of transferring disease from one body to another. A strong man can help a weaker man carry a heavy load. Similarly, someone with extraordinary spiritual power can ease his disciples’ physical or mental burdens by sharing their past karma. Just as a rich man gives up some money to pay off a large debt for his wasteful son, a master willingly gives up some of his physical health to ease his disciples’ suffering. The father’s payment saves his son from the terrible consequences of his own foolishness. [^21]

By a secret method, the yogi unites his mind and astral vehicle with those of a suffering individual; the disease is conveyed, wholly or in part, to the saint’s body. Having harvested God on the physical field, a master no longer cares what happens to that material form. Though he may allow it to register a certain disease in order to relieve others, his mind is never affected; he considers himself fortunate in being able to render such aid.

Through a secret method, the yogi joins his mind and astral body with those of a suffering person. The disease is transferred, wholly or partly, to the saint’s body. Having found God through his physical life, a master no longer cares what happens to his body. Though he may let his body take on a disease to relieve others, his mind is never affected. He considers himself fortunate to be able to offer such help.

The devotee who has achieved final salvation in the Lord finds that his body has completely fulfilled its purpose; he can then use it in any way he deems fit. His work in the world is to alleviate the sorrows of mankind, whether through spiritual means or by intellectual counsel or through will power or by the physical transfer of disease. Escaping to the superconsciousness whenever he so desires, a master can remain oblivious of physical suffering; sometimes he chooses to bear bodily pain stoically, as an example to disciples. By putting on the ailments of others, a yogi can satisfy, for them, the karmic law of cause and effect. This law is mechanically or mathematically operative; its workings can be scientifically manipulated by men of divine wisdom.

The devotee who has achieved final salvation in the Lord finds that his body has fully served its purpose. He can then use his body in whatever way he sees fit. His work in the world is to ease human suffering. He does this through spiritual means, intellectual guidance, willpower, or the physical transfer of disease. A master can enter superconsciousness whenever he wishes and remain unaware of physical suffering. Sometimes he chooses to endure bodily pain without complaint as an example to his disciples. By taking on the illnesses of others, a yogi can fulfill the karmic law of cause and effect for them. This law operates mechanically or mathematically. People with divine wisdom can scientifically control how this law works.

The spiritual law does not require a master to become ill whenever he heals another person. Healings ordinarily take place through the saint’s knowledge of various methods of instantaneous cure in which no hurt to the spiritual healer is involved. On rare occasions, however, a master who wishes to greatly quicken his disciples’ evolution may then voluntarily work out on his own body a large measure of their undesirable karma.

Spiritual law does not require a master to become ill whenever he heals someone else. Healing usually happens through a saint’s knowledge of various methods of instant healing that do not harm the healer. On rare occasions, however, a master may wish to greatly speed up his disciples’ spiritual growth. He may then voluntarily work through a large share of their unwanted karma in his own body.

Jesus signified himself as a ransom for the sins of many. With his divine powers, [^21] his body could never have been subjected to death by crucifixion if he had not willingly cooperated with the subtle cosmic law of cause and effect. He thus took on himself the consequences of others’ karma, especially that of his disciples. In this manner they were highly purified and made fit to receive the omnipresent consciousness which later descended on them.

Jesus presented himself as a ransom for the sins of many. With his divine powers, [^21] his body could never have died by crucifixion if he had not willingly cooperated with the subtle cosmic law of cause and effect. He thus took on the consequences of others’ karma, especially his disciples’ karma. In this way, his disciples were greatly purified and made ready to receive the omnipresent consciousness that later descended on them.

Only a self-realized master can transfer his life force, or convey into his own body the diseases of others. An ordinary man cannot employ this yogic method of cure, nor is it desirable that he should do so; for an unsound physical instrument is a hindrance to God- meditation. The Hindu scriptures teach that the first duty of man is to keep his body in good condition; otherwise his mind is unable to remain fixed in devotional concentration.

Only a self-realized master can transfer his life force or take others’ diseases into his own body. An ordinary person cannot use this yogic healing method, nor should they try. An unhealthy body hinders meditation on God. Hindu scriptures teach that a person’s first duty is to keep the body healthy. Otherwise, the mind cannot stay focused in devotional concentration.

A very strong mind, however, can transcend all physical difficulties and attain to God-realization. Many saints have ignored illness and succeeded in their divine quest. St. Francis of Assisi, severely afflicted with ailments, healed others and even raised the dead.

However, a very strong mind can overcome all physical difficulties and achieve God-realization. Many saints have ignored illness and succeeded in their search for God. St. Francis of Assisi suffered from severe illnesses, yet he healed others and even raised the dead.

I knew an Indian saint, half of whose body was once festering with sores. His diabetic condition was so acute that under ordinary conditions he could not sit still at one time for more than fifteen minutes. But his spiritual aspiration was undeterrable. “Lord,” he prayed, “wilt Thou come into my broken temple?” With ceaseless command of will, the saint gradually became able to sit daily in the lotus posture for eighteen continuous hours, engrossed in the ecstatic trance.

I knew an Indian saint whose body was once half covered in festering sores. His diabetes was so severe that he normally could not sit still for more than fifteen minutes at a time. But nothing could weaken his spiritual longing. “Lord,” he prayed, “will you come into my broken temple?” Through constant effort of will, the saint gradually learned to sit in the lotus posture for eighteen uninterrupted hours daily. He spent those hours absorbed in an ecstatic trance.

“And,” he told me, “at the end of three years, I found the Infinite Light blazing within my shattered form. Rejoicing in the joyful splendour, I forgot the body. Later I saw that it had become whole through the Divine Mercy.”

“And,” he told me, “after three years, I found the Infinite Light blazing within my broken body. Filled with joy at its radiant beauty, I forgot my body. Later, I saw that my body had been fully healed through Divine Mercy.”

A historical healing incident concerns King Baber (1483-1530), founder of the Mogul empire in India. His son, Prince Humayun, was mortally ill. The father prayed with anguished determination that he receive the sickness, and that his son be spared. After all physicians had given up hope, Humayun recovered. Baber immediately fell sick and died of the same disease which had stricken his son. Humayun succeeded Baber as Emperor of Hindustan.

One historical account of healing concerns King Baber (1483-1530), founder of the Mogul empire in India. His son, Prince Humayun, was dying. In anguish, Baber prayed with determination to take on his son’s illness so that his son would be spared. After all the doctors had given up hope, Humayun recovered. Baber immediately fell ill and died of the same disease that had struck his son. Humayun succeeded Baber as Emperor of Hindustan.

Many people imagine that every spiritual master has, or should have, the health and strength of a Sandow. The assumption is unfounded. A sickly body does not indicate that a guru is not in touch with divine powers, any more than lifelong health necessarily indicates an inner illumination. The condition of the physical body, in other words, cannot rightfully be made a test of a master. His distinguishing qualifications must be sought in his own domain, the spiritual.

Many people imagine that every spiritual master has, or should have, the health and strength of a Sandow. There is no basis for this assumption. Poor health does not mean a guru is out of touch with divine powers. Nor does lifelong health necessarily mean someone has inner spiritual understanding. In other words, a master's physical condition cannot fairly be used to judge him. The qualities that set him apart must be found in his own field, the spiritual.

Numerous bewildered seekers in the West erroneously think that an eloquent speaker or writer on metaphysics must be a master. The rishis, however, have pointed out that the acid test of a master is a man’s ability to enter at will the breathless state, and to maintain the unbroken samadhi of nirbikalpa . [^21] Only by these achievements can a human being prove that he has “mastered” maya or the dualistic Cosmic Delusion. He alone can say from the depths of realization: “Ekam sat ,”-“Only One exists.”

Many confused seekers in the West mistakenly think an eloquent speaker or writer on metaphysics must be a master. The rishis, however, have identified the true test of a master. A master must be able to enter the breathless state at will and maintain the unbroken samadhi of nirbikalpa. [^21] Only through these achievements can a person prove he has “mastered” maya, or the dualistic Cosmic Delusion. Only such a person can say from the depths of realization: “Ekam sat,” “Only One exists.”

“The Vedas declare that the ignorant man who rests content with making the slightest distinction between the individual soul and the Supreme Self is exposed to danger,” Shankara the great monist has written. “Where there is duality by virtue of ignorance, one sees all things as distinct from the Self. When everything is seen as the Self, then there is not even an atom other than the Self. . . .

“The Vedas declare that an ignorant person is in danger if content to make even the slightest distinction between the individual soul and the Supreme Self,” wrote Shankara, the great monist. “Where ignorance creates duality, a person sees all things as separate from the Self. When everything is seen as the Self, not even a single atom is other than the Self. . . .

“As soon as the knowledge of the Reality has sprung up, there can be no fruits of past actions to be experienced, owing to the unreality of the body, in the same way as there can be no dream after waking.”

“As soon as knowledge of the Reality arises, no consequences of past actions can remain to be experienced. This is because the body is unreal, just as no dream can continue after waking.”

Only great gurus are able to assume the karma of disciples. Sri Yukteswar would not have suffered in Kashmir unless he had received permission from the Spirit within him to help his disciples in that strange way. Few saints were ever more sensitively equipped with wisdom to carry out divine commands than my God-tuned Master.

Only great gurus can take on their disciples’ karma. Sri Yukteswar would not have suffered in Kashmir without permission from the Spirit within him. That permission allowed him to help his disciples in that strange way. Few saints ever had greater wisdom or sensitivity for carrying out divine commands than my Master, so attuned to God.

When I ventured a few words of sympathy over his emaciated figure, my guru said gaily:

When I hesitantly expressed sympathy for how thin he had become, my guru said cheerfully:

“It has its good points; I am able now to get into some small ganjis (undershirts) that I haven’t worn in years!”

“It has its good points. I can now fit into some small ganjis (undershirts) that I haven’t worn in years!”

Listening to Master’s jovial laugh, I remembered the words of St. Francis de Sales: “A saint that is sad is a sad saint!”

As I listened to Master’s cheerful laugh, I remembered the words of St. Francis de Sales: “A saint that is sad is a sad saint!”

21-1: It is a mark of disrespect, in India, to smoke in the presence of one’s elders and superiors.

21-1: In India, smoking in front of your elders and superiors is a sign of disrespect.

21-2: The Oriental plane tree..

21-2: The Oriental plane tree.

21-3: Many Christian saints, including Therese Neumann (see [^39]), are familiar with the metaphysical transfer of disease.

21-3: Many Christian saints, including Therese Neumann (see [^39]), know about the metaphysical transfer of disease.

21-4: Christ said, just before he was led away to be crucified: “Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be?”-Matthew 26:53-54.

21-4: Just before he was led away to be crucified, Christ said: “Do you think I cannot pray to my Father now? He would immediately give me more than twelve legions of angels. But how then would the scriptures be fulfilled, saying things must happen this way?”-Matthew 26:53-54.

21-5: See chapters [^26], [^43] notes .

21-5: See chapters [^26], [^43] notes.