In his youth Kabir was approached by two disciples
who wanted minute intellectual guidance along the
mystic path. The master responded simply:
“Path presupposes distance;
If He be near, no path needest thou at all.
Verily it maketh me smile
To hear of a fish in water athirst!”
{FN36-10} Panchanon established, in a seventeen-acre
garden at Deogarh in Bihar, a temple containing a
stone statue of Lahiri Mahasaya. Another statue
of the great master has been set by disciples in the
little parlor of his Benares home.
{FN36-11} I Corinthians 15:54-55.
I GO TO AMERICA
“America! Surely these people are Americans!”
This was my thought as a panoramic vision of Western
faces passed before my inward view.
Immersed in meditation, I was sitting behind some
dusty boxes in the storeroom of the Ranchi school.
A private spot was difficult to find during those
busy years with the youngsters!
The vision continued; a vast multitude, {FN37-1} gazing
at me intently, swept actorlike across the stage of
consciousness.
The storeroom door opened; as usual, one of the young
lads had discovered my hiding place.
“Come here, Bimal,” I cried gaily.
“I have news for you: the Lord is calling
me to America!”
“To America?” The boy echoed my words
in a tone that implied I had said “to the moon.”
“Yes! I am going forth to discover America,
like Columbus. He thought he had found India;
surely there is a karmic link between those two lands!”
Bimal scampered away; soon the whole school was informed
by the two-legged newspaper. {FN37-2} I summoned the
bewildered faculty and gave the school into its charge.
“I know you will keep Lahiri Mahasaya’s
yoga ideals of education ever to the fore,”
I said. “I shall write you frequently; God
willing, someday I shall be back.”
Tears stood in my eyes as I cast a last look at the
little boys and the sunny acres of Ranchi. A
definite epoch in my life had now closed, I knew;
henceforth I would dwell in far lands. I entrained
for Calcutta a few hours after my vision. The
following day I received an invitation to serve as
the delegate from India to an International Congress
of Religious Liberals in America. It was to convene
that year in Boston, under the auspices of the American
Unitarian Association.
My head in a whirl, I sought out Sri Yukteswar in
Serampore.
“Guruji, I have just been invited to address
a religious congress in America. Shall I go?”
“All doors are open for you,” Master replied
simply. “It is now or never.”
“But, sir,” I said in dismay, “what
do I know about public speaking? Seldom have
I given a lecture, and never in English.”
“English or no English, your words on yoga shall
be heard in the West.”
