Summoning Babaji

“Before returning to Danapur, I spent a few days with a Bengali family at Moradabad. A party of six friends gathered to greet me. As I turned the conversation to spiritual subjects, my host observed gloomily:

“‘Oh, in these days India is destitute of saints!’

“‘Babu,’ I protested warmly, ‘of course there are still great masters in this land!’

“In a mood of exalted fervor, I felt impelled to relate my miraculous experiences in the Himalayas. The little company was politely incredulous.

“‘Lahiri,’ one man said soothingly, ‘your mind has been under a strain in those rarefied mountain airs. This is some daydream you have recounted.’

“Burning with the enthusiasm of truth, I spoke without due thought. ‘If I call him, my guru will appear right in this house.’

“Interest gleamed in every eye; it was no wonder that the group was eager to behold a saint materialized in such a strange way. Half-reluctantly, I asked for a quiet room and two new woolen blankets.

“‘The master will materialize from the ether,’ I said. ‘Remain silently outside the door; I shall soon call you.’

“I sank into the meditative state, humbly summoning my guru. The darkened room soon filled with a dim aural moonlight; the luminous figure of Babaji emerged.

“‘Lahiri, do you call me for a trifle?’ The master’s gaze was stern. ‘Truth is for earnest seekers, not for those of idle curiosity. It is easy to believe when one sees; there is nothing then to deny. Supersensual truth is deserved and discovered by those who overcome their natural materialistic skepticism.’ He added gravely, ‘Let me go!’

“I fell entreatingly at his feet. ‘Holy guru, I realize my serious error; I humbly ask pardon. It was to create faith in these spiritually blinded minds that I ventured to call you. Because you have graciously appeared at my prayer, please do not depart without bestowing a blessing on my friends. Unbelievers though they be, at least they were willing to investigate the truth of my strange assertions.’

“‘Very well; I will stay awhile. I do not wish your word discredited before your friends.’ Babaji’s face had softened, but he added gently, ‘Henceforth, my son, I shall come when you need me, and not always when you call me.’

“Tense silence reigned in the little group when I opened the door. As if mistrusting their senses, my friends stared at the lustrous figure on the blanket seat.

“‘This is mass-hypnotism!’ One man laughed blatantly. ‘No one could possibly have entered this room without our knowledge!’

“Babaji advanced smilingly and motioned to each one to touch the warm, solid flesh of his body. Doubts dispelled, my friends prostrated themselves on the floor in awed repentance.

“‘Let halua be prepared.’ Babaji made this request, I knew, to further assure the group of his physical reality. While the porridge was boiling, the divine guru chatted affably. Great was the metamorphosis of these doubting Thomases into devout St. Pauls. After we had eaten, Babaji blessed each of us in turn. There was a sudden flash; we witnessed the instantaneous dechemicalization of the electronic elements of Babaji’s body into a spreading vaporous light. The God-tuned will power of the master had loosened its grasp of the ether atoms held together as his body; forthwith the trillions of tiny lifetronic sparks faded into the infinite reservoir.

“‘With my own eyes I have seen the conqueror of death.’ Maitra, one of the group, spoke reverently. His face was transfigured with the joy of his recent awakening. ‘The supreme guru played with time and space, as a child plays with bubbles. I have beheld one with the keys of heaven and earth.’

“I soon returned to Danapur. Firmly anchored in the Spirit, again I assumed the manifold business and family obligations of a householder.”