Kashi, Reborn and Rediscovered

“Please do not go into the water. Let us bathe by dipping our buckets.”

“Please don’t go into the water. Let’s bathe by scooping up water with our buckets.”

I was addressing the young Ranchi students who were accompanying me on an eight-mile hike to a neighboring hill. The pond before us was inviting, but a distaste for it had arisen in my mind. The group around me followed my example of dipping buckets, but a few lads yielded to the temptation of the cool waters. No sooner had they dived than large water snakes wiggled around them. The boys came out of the pond with comical alacrity.

I was speaking to the young Ranchi students accompanying me on an eight-mile hike to a nearby hill. The pond before us looked inviting, but I had begun to feel uneasy about it. The group around me followed my example and dipped buckets into the pond. But a few boys gave in to the temptation of the cool water. As soon as the boys dived in, large water snakes wriggled around them. The boys scrambled out of the pond with comical speed.

We enjoyed a picnic lunch after we reached our destination. I sat under a tree, surrounded by a group of students. Finding me in an inspirational mood, they plied me with questions.

We enjoyed a picnic lunch after we reached our destination. I sat under a tree, surrounded by a group of students. Seeing that I was in an inspired mood, the students asked me question after question.

“Please tell me, sir,” one youth inquired, “if I shall always stay with you in the path of renunciation.”

“Please tell me, sir,” a young man asked, “will I always stay with you on the path of renunciation?”

“Ah, no,” I replied, “you will be forcibly taken away to your home, and later you will marry.”

“Ah, no,” I replied, “you will be taken home by force. Later, you will marry.”

Incredulous, he made a vehement protest. “Only if I am dead can I be carried home.” But in a few months, his parents arrived to take him away, in spite of his tearful resistance; some years later, he did marry.

He could not believe it and protested fiercely. “You can only carry me home if I am dead.” But a few months later, his parents came to take him away, despite his tearful resistance. Some years later, he did marry.

After answering many questions, I was addressed by a lad named Kashi. He was about twelve years old, a brilliant student, and beloved by all.

After I answered many questions, a boy named Kashi spoke to me. He was about twelve years old, a brilliant student, and loved by everyone.

“Sir,” he said, “what will be my fate?”

“Sir,” he said, “what will happen to me?”

“You shall soon be dead.” The reply came from my lips with an irresistible force.

“You will soon be dead.” The reply burst from my lips with a force I could not resist.

This unexpected disclosure shocked and grieved me as well as everyone present. Silently rebuking myself as an enfant terrible, I refused to answer further questions.

This unexpected revelation shocked and saddened me and everyone else present. Silently scolding myself for being a troublemaker, I refused to answer any more questions.

On our return to the school, Kashi came to my room.

When we returned to the school, Kashi came to my room.

“If I die, will you find me when I am reborn, and bring me again to the spiritual path?” He sobbed.

“If I die, will you find me when I’m reborn and bring me back to the spiritual path?” he sobbed.

I felt constrained to refuse this difficult occult responsibility. But for weeks afterward, Kashi pressed me doggedly. Seeing him unnerved to the breaking point, I finally consoled him.

I felt I had to refuse this difficult occult responsibility. But for weeks afterward, Kashi kept pressing me. Seeing him so distressed that he was near his breaking point, I finally comforted him.

“Yes,” I promised. “If the Heavenly Father lends His aid, I will try to find you.”

“Yes,” I promised. “If the Heavenly Father helps me, I will try to find you.”

During the summer vacation, I started on a short trip. Regretting that I could not take Kashi with me, I called him to my room before leaving, and carefully instructed him to remain, against all persuasion, in the spiritual vibrations of the school. Somehow I felt that if he did not go home, he might avoid the impending calamity.

During summer vacation, I set out on a short trip. I regretted not being able to take Kashi with me, so I called him to my room before leaving. I carefully instructed him to stay within the school's spiritual vibrations, no matter who tried to persuade him to leave. Somehow I felt that if he did not go home, he might avoid the coming disaster.

No sooner had I left than Kashi’s father arrived in Ranchi. For fifteen days he tried to break the will of his son, explaining that if Kashi would go to Calcutta for only four days to see his mother, he could then return. Kashi persistently refused. The father finally said he would take the boy away with the help of the police. The threat disturbed Kashi, who was unwilling to be the cause of any unfavorable publicity to the school. He saw no choice but to go.

As soon as I left, Kashi’s father arrived in Ranchi. For fifteen days, he tried to wear down his son’s resolve. He explained that if Kashi went to Calcutta for just four days to see his mother, he could then return. Kashi kept refusing. His father finally said he would take the boy away with the help of the police. The threat upset Kashi, who did not want to cause any bad publicity for the school. He saw no choice but to go.

I returned to Ranchi a few days later. When I heard how Kashi had been removed, I entrained at once for Calcutta. There I engaged a horse cab. Very strangely, as the vehicle passed beyond the Howrah bridge over the Ganges, I beheld Kashi’s father and other relatives in mourning clothes. Shouting to my driver to stop, I rushed out and glared at the unfortunate father.

I returned to Ranchi a few days later. When I heard how Kashi had been taken away, I immediately boarded a train for Calcutta. There I hired a horse-drawn cab. Very strangely, as the cab crossed the Howrah bridge over the Ganges, I saw Kashi’s father and other relatives just beyond it. They were wearing mourning clothes. I shouted to my driver to stop, rushed out, and glared at the unfortunate father.

“Mr. Murderer,” I cried somewhat unreasonably, “you have killed my boy!”

“Mr. Murderer,” I shouted, somewhat unreasonably, “you’ve killed my boy!”

The father had already realized the wrong he had done in forcibly bringing Kashi to Calcutta. During the few days the boy had been there, he had eaten contaminated food, contracted cholera, and passed on.

The father had already realized he was wrong to bring Kashi to Calcutta by force. In the few days the boy had been there, he had eaten contaminated food, caught cholera, and died.

My love for Kashi, and the pledge to find him after death, night and day haunted me. No matter where I went, his face loomed up before me. I began a memorable search for him, even as long ago I had searched for my lost mother.

My love for Kashi and my promise to find him after death haunted me day and night. Wherever I went, his face appeared before me. I began a memorable search for him, just as I had searched for my lost mother long ago.

I felt that inasmuch as God had given me the faculty of reason, I must utilize it and tax my powers to the utmost in order to discover the subtle laws by which I could know the boy’s astral whereabouts. He was a soul vibrating with unfulfilled desires, I realized-a mass of light floating somewhere amidst millions of luminous souls in the astral regions. How was I to tune in with him, among so many vibrating lights of other souls?

I felt that because God had given me the ability to reason, I must use it to the fullest. I had to push my abilities to their limits to discover the subtle laws governing the boy’s astral whereabouts. Those laws would allow me to find him. I realized he was a soul vibrating with unfulfilled desires. He was a mass of light floating somewhere among millions of luminous souls in the astral regions. How could I tune in to him among so many vibrating lights of other souls?

Using a secret yoga technique, I broadcasted my love to Kashi’s soul through the microphone of the spiritual eye, the inner point between the eyebrows. With the antenna of upraised hands and fingers, I often turned myself round and round, trying to locate the direction in which he had been reborn as an embryo. I hoped to receive response from him in the concentration-tuned radio of my heart. [^28]

Using a secret yoga technique, I broadcast my love to Kashi’s soul through the microphone of the spiritual eye. The spiritual eye is the inner point between the eyebrows. I often turned around and around, using my raised hands and fingers as an antenna. I was trying to locate the direction in which he had been reborn as an embryo. I hoped to receive a response from him through the radio of my heart, tuned by concentration. [^28]

I intuitively felt that Kashi would soon return to the earth, and that if I kept unceasingly broadcasting my call to him, his soul would reply. I knew that the slightest impulse sent by Kashi would be felt in my fingers, hands, arms, spine, and nerves.

I intuitively felt that Kashi would soon return to earth. I also felt that if I kept calling to him without stopping, his soul would answer. I knew I would feel even the slightest signal from Kashi in my fingers, hands, arms, spine, and nerves.

With undiminished zeal, I practiced the yoga method steadily for about six months after Kashi’s death. Walking with a few friends one morning in the crowded Bowbazar section of Calcutta, I lifted my hands in the usual manner. For the first time, there was response. I thrilled to detect electrical impulses trickling down my fingers and palms. These currents translated themselves into one overpowering thought from a deep recess of my consciousness: “I am Kashi; I am Kashi; come to me!”

With the same enthusiasm, I steadily practiced the yoga method for about six months after Kashi’s death. One morning, I was walking with a few friends in the crowded Bowbazar section of Calcutta. I raised my hands as usual. For the first time, I felt a response. I was thrilled to feel electrical impulses trickling down my fingers and palms. These currents became one overwhelming thought from deep within my consciousness: “I am Kashi; I am Kashi; come to me!”

The thought became almost audible as I concentrated on my heart radio. In the characteristic, slightly hoarse whisper of Kashi, [^28] I heard his summons again and again. I seized the arm of one of my companions, Prokash Das, [^28] and smiled at him joyfully.

The thought became almost audible as I focused on my heart radio. In Kashi’s familiar, slightly hoarse whisper, [^28] I heard him calling me again and again. I grabbed the arm of one of my companions, Prokash Das, [^28] and smiled at him joyfully.

“It looks as though I have located Kashi!”

“It looks like I’ve found Kashi!”

I began to turn round and round, to the undisguised amusement of my friends and the passing throng. The electrical impulses tingled through my fingers only when I faced toward a near-by path, aptly named “Serpentine Lane.” The astral currents disappeared when I turned in other directions.

I began turning round and round, much to the open amusement of my friends and the passing crowd. Electrical impulses tingled through my fingers only when I faced a nearby path, aptly named “Serpentine Lane.” The astral currents disappeared when I turned in other directions.

“Ah,” I exclaimed, “Kashi’s soul must be living in the womb of some mother whose home is in this lane.”

“Ah,” I exclaimed, “Kashi’s soul must be living in the womb of some mother who lives on this lane.”

My companions and I approached closer to Serpentine Lane; the vibrations in my upraised hands grew stronger, more pronounced. As if by a magnet, I was pulled toward the right side of the road. Reaching the entrance of a certain house, I was astounded to find myself transfixed. I knocked at the door in a state of intense excitement, holding my very breath. I felt that the successful end had come for my long, arduous, and certainly unusual quest!

My companions and I came closer to Serpentine Lane. The vibrations in my raised hands grew stronger and more distinct. I was drawn toward the right side of the road, as if pulled by a magnet. When I reached the entrance of a certain house, I was astonished to find myself unable to move. I knocked on the door, intensely excited and holding my breath. I felt that my long, difficult, and certainly unusual search had finally ended in success!

The door was opened by a servant, who told me her master was at home. He descended the stairway from the second floor and smiled at me inquiringly. I hardly knew how to frame my question, at once pertinent and impertinent.

A servant opened the door and told me her master was home. He came down the stairs from the second floor and smiled at me with a questioning look. I hardly knew how to phrase my question, which was both relevant and rude.

“Please tell me, sir, if you and your wife have been expecting a child for about six months?”

“Sir, please tell me, have you and your wife been expecting a child for about six months?”

“Yes, it is so.” Seeing that I was a swami, a renunciate attired in the traditional orange cloth, he added politely, “Pray inform me how you know my affairs.”

“Yes, that’s true.” He saw that I was a swami, someone who had renounced worldly life and wore the traditional orange robes. He added politely, “Please tell me how you know about my affairs.”

When he heard about Kashi and the promise I had given, the astonished man believed my story.

When the astonished man heard about Kashi and the promise I had made, he believed my story.

“A male child of fair complexion will be born to you,” I told him. “He will have a broad face, with a cowlick atop his forehead. His disposition will be notably spiritual.” I felt certain that the coming child would bear these resemblances to Kashi.

“You will have a fair-skinned son,” I told him. “He will have a broad face, with a cowlick above his forehead. He will have a notably spiritual nature.” I felt certain that the child would resemble Kashi in these ways.

Later I visited the child, whose parents had given him his old name of Kashi. Even in infancy he was strikingly similar in appearance to my dear Ranchi student. The child showed me an instantaneous affection; the attraction of the past awoke with redoubled intensity.

Later I visited the child, whose parents had given him his old name, Kashi. Even as a baby, he looked strikingly like my dear Ranchi student. The child showed me affection immediately, and our old bond reawakened with twice the intensity.

Years later the teen-age boy wrote me, during my stay in America. He explained his deep longing to follow the path of a renunciate. I directed him to a Himalayan master who, to this day, guides the reborn Kashi.

Years later, the teenage boy wrote to me while I was in America. He described his deep longing to live as a renunciate, giving up worldly life. I directed him to a Himalayan master who still guides the reborn Kashi to this day.

28-1: The will, projected from the point between the eyebrows, is known by yogis as the broadcasting apparatus of thought. When the feeling is calmly concentrated on the heart, it acts as a mental radio, and can receive the messages of others from far or near. In telepathy the fine vibrations of thoughts in one person’s mind are transmitted through the subtle vibrations of astral ether and then through the grosser earthly ether, creating electrical waves which, in turn, translate themselves into thought waves in the mind of the other person.

28-1: Yogis call the will, projected from the point between the eyebrows, the broadcasting apparatus of thought. When feeling is calmly focused on the heart, it acts like a mental radio. This mental radio can receive messages from others, near or far. In telepathy, the fine vibrations of thoughts in one person’s mind travel through the subtle vibrations of astral ether. They then pass through the coarser earthly ether, creating electrical waves. These electrical waves, in turn, become thought waves in the other person’s mind.

28-2: Every soul in its pure state is omniscient. Kashi’s soul remembered all the characteristics of Kashi, the boy, and therefore mimicked his hoarse voice in order to stir my recognition.

28-2: Every soul in its pure state knows everything. Kashi’s soul remembered all the traits of Kashi as a boy. So his soul imitated the boy’s hoarse voice to help me recognize him.

28-3: Prokash Das is the present director of our Yogoda Math (hermitage) at Dakshineswar in Bengal.

28-3: Prokash Das is the current director of our Yogoda Math (hermitage) at Dakshineswar in Bengal.