Master smiled mischievously. “I am too
old to go about collecting donations to establish
an A.B. college for you. I guess I shall have
to arrange the matter through someone else.”
Two months later Professor Howells, president of Serampore
College, publicly announced that he had succeeded
in raising sufficient funds to offer a four-year course.
Serampore College became a branch affiliation of the
University of Calcutta. I was one of the first
students to enroll in Serampore as an A.B. candidate.
“Guruji, how kind you are to me! I have
been longing to leave Calcutta and be near you every
day in Serampore. Professor Howells does not
dream how much he owes to your silent help!”
Sri Yukteswar gazed at me with mock severity.
“Now you won’t have to spend so many hours
on trains; what a lot of free time for your studies!
Perhaps you will become less of a last-minute crammer
and more of a scholar.” But somehow his
tone lacked conviction.
{FN17-1} In 1936 I heard from a friend that Sasi was
still in excellent health.
A MOHAMMEDAN WONDER-WORKER
“Years ago, right in this very room you now
occupy, a Mohammedan wonder-worker performed four
miracles before me!”
Sri Yukteswar made this surprising statement during
his first visit to my new quarters. Immediately
after entering Serampore College, I had taken a room
in a near-by boardinghouse, called PANTHI. It
was an old-fashioned brick mansion, fronting the Ganges.
“Master, what a coincidence! Are these
newly decorated walls really ancient with memories?”
I looked around my simply furnished room with awakened
interest.
“It is a long story.” My guru smiled
reminiscently. “The name of the fakir
{FN18-1} was Afzal Khan. He had acquired his extraordinary
powers through a chance encounter with a Hindu yogi.
“‘Son, I am thirsty; fetch me some water.’
A dust-covered sannyasi made this request of
Afzal one day during his early boyhood in a small
village of eastern Bengal.
“’Master, I am a Mohammedan. How
could you, a Hindu, accept a drink from my hands?’
“’Your truthfulness pleases me, my child.
I do not observe the ostracizing rules of ungodly
sectarianism. Go; bring me water quickly.’
“Afzal’s reverent obedience was rewarded
by a loving glance from the yogi.
“‘You possess good karma from former lives,’
he observed solemnly. ’I am going to teach
you a certain yoga method which will give you command
over one of the invisible realms. The great powers
that will be yours should be exercised for worthy
ends; never employ them selfishly! I perceive,
alas! that you have brought over from the past some
seeds of destructive tendencies. Do not allow
them to sprout by watering them with fresh evil actions.
The complexity of your previous karma is such that
you must use this life to reconcile your yogic accomplishments
with the highest humanitarian goals.’
