The Levitating Saint

“I saw a yogi remain in the air, several feet above the ground, last night at a group meeting.” My friend, Upendra Mohun Chowdhury, spoke impressively.

“I saw a yogi floating several feet above the ground last night at a group meeting.” My friend, Upendra Mohun Chowdhury, said this with an air of importance.

I gave him an enthusiastic smile. “Perhaps I can guess his name. Was it Bhaduri Mahasaya, of Upper Circular Road?”

I smiled at him enthusiastically. “Perhaps I can guess his name. Was it Bhaduri Mahasaya from Upper Circular Road?”

Upendra nodded, a little crestfallen not to be a news-bearer. My inquisitiveness about saints was well-known among my friends; they delighted in setting me on a fresh track.

Upendra nodded, a little disappointed that he had no news to share. My friends knew well how curious I was about saints. They delighted in giving me a new lead.

“The yogi lives so close to my home that I often visit him.” My words brought keen interest to Upendra’s face, and I made a further confidence.

“The yogi lives so close to my home that I often visit him.” My words sparked keen interest in Upendra’s face, and I shared something else in confidence.

“I have seen him in remarkable feats. He has expertly mastered the various pranayamas [^7] of the ancient eightfold yoga outlined by Patanjali. [^7] Once Bhaduri Mahasaya performed the Bhastrika Pranayama before me with such amazing force that it seemed an actual storm had arisen in the room! Then he extinguished the thundering breath and remained motionless in a high state of superconsciousness. [^7] The aura of peace after the storm was vivid beyond forgetting.”

“I have seen him perform remarkable feats. He has fully mastered the various pranayamas [^7] of the ancient eightfold yoga outlined by Patanjali. [^7] Once Bhaduri Mahasaya performed the Bhastrika Pranayama before me with amazing force. It seemed as if an actual storm had arisen in the room! Then he stopped his thundering breath and remained motionless in a deep state of superconsciousness. [^7] The atmosphere of peace after the storm was so vivid I could never forget it.”

“I heard that the saint never leaves his home.” Upendra’s tone was a trifle incredulous.

“I heard that the saint never leaves his home.” Upendra sounded slightly skeptical.

“Indeed it is true! He has lived indoors for the past twenty years. He slightly relaxes his self-imposed rule at the times of our holy festivals, when he goes as far as his front sidewalk! The beggars gather there, because Saint Bhaduri is known for his tender heart.”

“Yes, it’s true! He has stayed indoors for the past twenty years. He relaxes his own rule a little during our holy festivals, going only as far as the sidewalk outside his home! Beggars gather there because Saint Bhaduri is known for his kind heart.”

“How does he remain in the air, defying the law of gravitation?”

“How does he stay in the air, defying gravity?”

“A yogi’s body loses its grossness after use of certain pranayamas. Then it will levitate or hop about like a leaping frog. Even saints who do not practice a formal yoga [^7] have been known to levitate during a state of intense devotion to God.”

“A yogi’s body loses its heaviness after practicing certain pranayamas. Then the body will levitate or hop around like a leaping frog. Even saints who do not practice formal yoga [^7] have been known to levitate during intense devotion to God.”

“I would like to know more of this sage. Do you attend his evening meetings?” Upendra’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity.

“I’d like to know more about this sage. Do you go to his evening meetings?” Upendra’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Yes, I go often. I am vastly entertained by the wit in his wisdom. Occasionally my prolonged laughter mars the solemnity of his gatherings. The saint is not displeased, but his disciples look daggers!”

“Yes, I go often. The wit in his wisdom amuses me greatly. Sometimes I laugh so long that I disrupt the solemn mood of his gatherings. The saint doesn’t mind, but his disciples glare at me!”

On my way home from school that afternoon, I passed Bhaduri Mahasaya’s cloister and decided on a visit. The yogi was inaccessible to the general public. A lone disciple, occupying the ground floor, guarded his master’s privacy. The student was something of a martinet; he now inquired formally if I had an “engagement.” His guru put in an appearance just in time to save me from summary ejection.

On my way home from school that afternoon, I passed Bhaduri Mahasaya’s monastery and decided to visit. The yogi did not receive the general public. A single disciple lived on the ground floor and guarded his master’s privacy. The student was something of a strict rule keeper. He now formally asked if I had an “appointment.” His guru appeared just in time to save me from being thrown out without further discussion.

“Let Mukunda come when he will.” The sage’s eyes twinkled. “My rule of seclusion is not for my own comfort, but for that of others. Worldly people do not like the candor which shatters their delusions. Saints are not only rare but disconcerting. Even in scripture, they are often found embarrassing!”

“Let Mukunda come whenever he likes.” The sage’s eyes twinkled. “My rule of living in seclusion is not for my own comfort, but for the comfort of others. Worldly people do not like frankness that shatters their illusions. Saints are not only rare but unsettling. Even in scripture, saints often make people uncomfortable!”

I followed Bhaduri Mahasaya to his austere quarters on the top floor, from which he seldom stirred. Masters often ignore the panorama of the world’s ado, out of focus till centered in the ages. The contemporaries of a sage are not alone those of the narrow present.

I followed Bhaduri Mahasaya to his bare rooms on the top floor, which he seldom left. Masters often ignore the bustle of the world. That bustle comes into focus only when viewed across the ages. A sage’s contemporaries are not limited to those living in the narrow present.

“Maharishi, [^7] you are the first yogi I have known who always stays indoors.”

“Maharishi, [^7] you’re the first yogi I’ve known who always stays indoors.”

“God plants his saints sometimes in unexpected soil, lest we think we may reduce Him to a rule!”

“God sometimes plants his saints in unexpected soil, so we won't think we can fit him into a formula!”

The sage locked his vibrant body in the lotus posture. In his seventies, he displayed no unpleasing signs of age or sedentary life. Stalwart and straight, he was ideal in every respect. His face was that of a rishi, as described in the ancient texts. Noble-headed, abundantly bearded, he always sat firmly upright, his quiet eyes fixed on Omnipresence.

The sage held his energetic body firmly in the lotus posture. In his seventies, he showed no unattractive signs of aging or an inactive life. Strong and upright, he was ideal in every way. His face was like that of a rishi described in the ancient texts. With a noble head and a full beard, he always sat firmly upright, his calm eyes fixed on Omnipresence.

The saint and I entered the meditative state. After an hour, his gentle voice roused me.

The saint and I began meditating. After an hour, his gentle voice brought me out of meditation.

“You go often into the silence, but have you developed anubhava?” [^7] He was reminding me to love God more than meditation. “Do not mistake the technique for the Goal.”

“You often enter the silence, but have you developed anubhava?” [^7] He was reminding me to love God more than meditation. “Do not confuse the technique with the Goal.”

He offered me some mangoes. With that good-humored wit that I found so delightful in his grave nature, he remarked, “People in general are more fond of Jala Yoga (union with food) than of Dhyana Yoga (union with God).”

He offered me some mangoes. His gentle wit delighted me, especially given his serious nature. He joked, “People generally prefer Jala Yoga (union with food) to Dhyana Yoga (union with God).”

His yogic pun affected me uproariously.

His yogic pun made me roar with laughter.

“What a laugh you have!” An affectionate gleam came into his gaze. His own face was always serious, yet touched with an ecstatic smile. His large, lotus eyes held a hidden divine laughter.

“What a laugh you have!” His eyes lit up with affection. His own face was always serious, yet softened by a smile of bliss. His large, lotus-shaped eyes held a hidden divine laughter.

“Those letters come from far-off America.” The sage indicated several thick envelopes on a table. “I correspond with a few societies there whose members are interested in yoga. They are discovering India anew, with a better sense of direction than Columbus! I am glad to help them. The knowledge of yoga is free to all who will receive, like the ungarnishable daylight.

“Those letters come from faraway America.” The sage pointed to several thick envelopes on a table. “I exchange letters with a few societies there whose members are interested in yoga. These members are rediscovering India, with a better sense of direction than Columbus! I am glad to help them. The knowledge of yoga is free to all who are willing to receive it, like daylight that no one can seize.

“What rishis perceived as essential for human salvation need not be diluted for the West. Alike in soul though diverse in outer experience, neither West nor East will flourish if some form of disciplinary yoga be not practiced.”

“What the rishis saw as essential for human salvation need not be watered down for the West. People in the West and East are alike in soul, though their outward experiences differ. Neither West nor East will flourish without practicing some form of disciplined yoga.”

The saint held me with his tranquil eyes. I did not realize that his speech was a veiled prophetic guidance. It is only now, as I write these words, that I understand the full meaning in the casual intimations he often gave me that someday I would carry India’s teachings to America.

The saint held my gaze with his calm eyes. I did not realize his words offered hidden prophetic guidance. Only now, as I write these words, do I understand the full meaning of his frequent, casual hints. He was suggesting that someday I would carry India’s teachings to America.

“Maharishi, I wish you would write a book on yoga for the benefit of the world.”

“Maharishi, I wish you would write a book on yoga to help the world.”

“I am training disciples. They and their students will be living volumes, proof against the natural disintegrations of time and the unnatural interpretations of the critics.” Bhaduri’s wit put me into another gale of laughter.

“I am training disciples. These disciples and their students will be living books, safe from time’s natural decay and critics’ distorted interpretations.” Bhaduri’s wit sent me into another burst of laughter.

I remained alone with the yogi until his disciples arrived in the evening. Bhaduri Mahasaya entered one of his inimitable discourses. Like a peaceful flood, he swept away the mental debris of his listeners, floating them Godward. His striking parables were expressed in a flawless Bengali.

I stayed alone with the yogi until his disciples arrived that evening. Bhaduri Mahasaya began one of his talks in his own unique style. Like a peaceful flood, he swept away the clutter in his listeners’ minds, carrying them toward God. He told his striking parables in flawless Bengali.

This evening Bhaduri expounded various philosophical points connected with the life of Mirabai, a medieval Rajputani princess who abandoned her court life to seek the company of sadhus. One great-sannyasi refused to receive her because she was a woman; her reply brought him humbly to her feet.

This evening Bhaduri explained several philosophical ideas related to the life of Mirabai, a medieval Rajputani princess. She left court life to seek the company of sadhus. One great sannyasi refused to meet her because she was a woman. Her reply brought him humbly to her feet.

“Tell the master,” she had said, “that I did not know there was any Male in the universe save God; are we all not females before Him?” (A scriptural conception of the Lord as the only Positive Creative Principle, His creation being naught but a passive maya.)

“Tell the master,” she had said, “that I did not know there was any Male in the universe except God. Are we not all females before him?” (This reflects the scriptural view of the Lord as the only positive creative force. His creation is nothing but passive maya.)

Mirabai composed many ecstatic songs which are still treasured in India; I translate one of them here:

Mirabai wrote many songs of spiritual joy that are still treasured in India. Here is my translation of one:

Several students put rupees in Bhaduri’s slippers which lay by his side as he sat in yoga posture. This respectful offering, customary in India, indicates that the disciple places his material goods at the guru’s feet. Grateful friends are only the Lord in disguise, looking after His own.

Several students put rupees in Bhaduri’s slippers, which lay beside him as he sat in a yoga posture. This respectful offering is customary in India. It shows that the disciple places his material possessions at the guru’s feet. Grateful friends are simply the Lord in disguise, caring for his own.

“Master, you are wonderful!” A student, taking his leave, gazed ardently at the patriarchal sage. “You have renounced riches and comforts to seek God and teach us wisdom!” It was well-known that Bhaduri Mahasaya had forsaken great family wealth in his early childhood, when single-mindedly he entered the yogic path.

“Master, you are wonderful!” A departing student gazed with deep admiration at the elderly sage. “You have given up wealth and comforts to seek God and teach us wisdom!” Everyone knew that Bhaduri Mahasaya had given up his family’s great wealth in early childhood. At that time, he had devoted himself single-mindedly to the yogic path.

“You are reversing the case!” The saint’s face held a mild rebuke. “I have left a few paltry rupees, a few petty pleasures, for a cosmic empire of endless bliss. How then have I denied myself anything? I know the joy of sharing the treasure. Is that a sacrifice? The shortsighted worldly folk are verily the real renunciates! They relinquish an unparalleled divine possession for a poor handful of earthly toys!”

“You have it backward!” The saint’s face showed gentle disapproval. “I have given up a few measly rupees and a few petty pleasures for a cosmic empire of endless bliss. How, then, have I denied myself anything? I know the joy of sharing this treasure. Is sharing it a sacrifice? Shortsighted, worldly people are truly the ones who give things up! They give up an unmatched divine treasure for a meager handful of earthly toys!”

I chuckled over this paradoxical view of renunciation-one which puts the cap of Croesus on any saintly beggar, whilst transforming all proud millionaires into unconscious martyrs.

I chuckled at this contradictory view of renunciation. In this view, any saintly beggar wears the crown of Croesus. Meanwhile, all proud millionaires become martyrs without knowing it.

“The divine order arranges our future more wisely than any insurance company.” The master’s concluding words were the realized creed of his faith. “The world is full of uneasy believers in an outward security. Their bitter thoughts are like scars on their foreheads. The One who gave us air and milk from our first breath knows how to provide day by day for His devotees.”

“The divine order plans our future more wisely than any insurance company.” The master’s closing words expressed the faith he had realized through experience. “The world is full of anxious people who trust in external security. Their bitter thoughts are like scars on their foreheads. The One who gave us air and milk from our first breath knows how to provide for his devotees daily.”

I continued my after-school pilgrimages to the saint’s door. With silent zeal he aided me to attain anubhava. One day he moved to Ram Mohan Roy Road, away from the neighborhood of my Gurpar Road home. His loving disciples had built him a new hermitage, known as “Nagendra Math.” [^7]

I continued my after-school pilgrimages to the saint’s door. With quiet dedication, he helped me attain anubhava. One day he moved to Ram Mohan Roy Road, away from the neighborhood of my home on Gurpar Road. His loving disciples had built him a new hermitage, known as “Nagendra Math.” [^7]

Although it throws me ahead of my story by a number of years, I will recount here the last words given to me by Bhaduri Mahasaya. Shortly before I embarked for the West, I sought him out and humbly knelt for his farewell blessing:

Although I must jump ahead several years in my story, I will share Bhaduri Mahasaya’s last words to me here. Shortly before I left for the West, I sought him out and humbly knelt to receive his farewell blessing:

“Son, go to America. Take the dignity of hoary India for your shield. Victory is written on your brow; the noble distant people will well receive you.”

“Son, go to America. Let the dignity of ancient India be your shield. Victory is written on your forehead. The noble people of that distant land will welcome you.”

7-1: Methods of controlling life-force through regulation of breath.

7-1: Methods for controlling life-force by regulating breathing.

7-2: The foremost ancient exponent of yoga.

7-2: The leading teacher of yoga in ancient times.

7-3: French professors were the first in the West to be willing to scientifically investigate the possibilities of the superconscious mind. Professor Jules-Bois, member of the L’Ecole de Psychologie of the Sorbonne, lectured in America in 1928; he told his audiences that French scientists have accorded recognition to the superconsciousness, “which is the exact opposite of Freud’s subconscious mind and is the faculty which makes man really man and not just a super-animal.” M. Jules-Bois explained that the awakening of the higher consciousness “was not to be confused with Coueism or hypnotism. The existence of a superconscious mind has long been recognized philosophically, being in reality the Oversoul spoken of by Emerson, but only recently has it been recognized scientifically.” The French scientist pointed out that from the superconsciousness come inspiration, genius, moral values. “Belief in this is not mysticism though it recognized and valued the qualities which mystics preached.”

7-3: French professors were the first in the West willing to investigate the superconscious mind’s possibilities scientifically. Professor Jules-Bois, a member of L’Ecole de Psychologie of the Sorbonne, lectured in America in 1928. He told his audiences that French scientists had recognized superconsciousness, “the exact opposite of Freud’s subconscious mind. This faculty makes a person truly human, not just a super-animal.” M. Jules-Bois explained that awakening higher consciousness “should not be confused with Coueism or hypnotism. Philosophy has long recognized the existence of a superconscious mind, which is actually the Oversoul Emerson described. But science has recognized the superconscious mind only recently.” The French scientist pointed out that inspiration, genius, and moral values come from superconsciousness. “Belief in superconsciousness is not mysticism, though this belief recognizes and values the qualities mystics taught.”

7-4: St. Theresa of Avila and other Christian saints were often observed in a state of levitation.

7-4: St. Theresa of Avila and other Christian saints were often seen levitating.

7-5: “Great sage.”

7-5: “Great sage.”

7-6: Actual perception of God.

7-6: Direct perception of God.

7-7: The saint’s full name was Nagendranath Bhaduri. Math means hermitage or ashram.

7-7: The saint’s full name was Nagendranath Bhaduri. Math means a hermitage or ashram.