“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。
I summoned the bewildered faculty and gave the school into its charge。
“I know you will keep Lahiri Mahasayas yoga ideals of education ever to the fore,”I said。“I shall write you frequently;God willing,someday I shall be back。”
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。”
When I broke the news of my plans to Father,he was utterly taken aback。To him America seemed incredibly remote;he feared he might never see me again。
“How can you go?”he asked sternly。“Who will fnance you?”
“The Lord will surely fnance me。Father,perhaps God will put it into your mind to help me。”
“No,never!”He glanced at me piteously。
I was astounded,therefore,when Father handed me,the following day,a check made out for a large amount。
“I give you this money,”he said,“not in my capacity as a father,but as a faithful disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya。Go then to that far Western land;spread there the creedless teachings of Kriya Yoga。”
“Perhaps we shall not meet again in this life。”Father,who was sixty-seven at this time,spoke sadly。
An intuitive conviction prompted me to reply,“Surely the Lord will bring us together once more。”
One early morning I began to pray,with an adamant determination to continue。
I prayed and prayed,muffing my sobs。No answer came。At that moment there came a knock outside the vestibule adjoining the Gurpar Road room in which I was sitting。Opening the door,I saw a young man in the scanty garb of a renunciate。He came in,closed the door behind him and,refusing my request to sit down,indicated with a gesture that he wished to talk to me while standing。
“He must be Babaji!”I thought,dazed,because the man before me had the features of a younger Lahiri Mahasaya。
He answered my thought。“Yes,I am Babaji。”He spoke melodiously in Hindi。“Our Heavenly Father has heard your prayer。He commands me to tell you:Follow the behests of your guru and go to America。Fear not;you will be protected。”
After a vibrant pause,Babaji addressed me again。“You are the one I have chosen to spread the message of Kriya Yoga in the West。Long ago I met your guru Yukteswar at a Kumbha Mela;I told him then I would send you to him for training。”
I was speechless,I lay prostrate before the deathless guru。He graciously lifted me from the foor。Telling me many things about my life,he then gave me some personal instruction,and uttered a few secret prophecies。
“Kriya Yoga,the scientific technique of God-realization,”he finally said with solemnity,“will ultimately spread in all lands,and aid in harmonizing the nations through mans personal,transcendental perception of the Infnite Father。”
“Do not try to follow me,”he said。“You will not be able to do so。”
“Please,Babaji,dont go away!”I cried repeatedly。“Take me with you!”
Looking back,he replied,“Not now。Some other time。”
As I tried to pursue him,I discovered that my feet were frmly rooted to the foor。From the door,Babaji gave me a last affectionate glance。He raised his hand by way of benediction and walked away,my eyes fxed on him longingly。
After a few minutes my feet were free。
The eve of my departure for the United States found me in Sri Yukteswars holy presence。
“Forget you were born a Hindu,and dont be an American。Take the best of them both,”Master said in his calm way of wisdom。
Then he blessed me:All those who come to you with faith,seeking God,will be helped。
“Everywhere you go,even in a wilderness,you will fnd friends。”
I left India in August,192,on The City Of Sparta,the frst passenger boat sailing for America after the close of World War I。
During the two-monthsvoyage a fellow passenger found out that I was the Indian delegate to the Boston congress。
Desperately trying to organize my ideas into a lecture in English,I fnally abandoned all preparations;my thoughts,like a wild colt eyeing a saddle,refused any cooperation with the laws of English grammar。Fully trusting in Masters past assurances,however,I appeared before my Thursday audience in the saloon of the steamer。No eloquence rose to my lips;speechlessly I stood before the assemblage。
The situation was not funny to me at the moment;indignantly I sent a silent prayer to Master。“You can!Speak!”His voice sounded instantly within my consciousness。
My thoughts fell at once into a friendly relation with the English language。Forty-fve minutes later the audience was still attentive。The talk won me a number of invitations to lecture later before various groups in America。
The City Of Sparta docked near Boston in late September。On the sixth of October I addressed the congress with my maiden speech in America。It was well received。
Due to Fathers generous check,I was able to remain in America after the congress was over。Four happy years were spent in humble circumstances in Boston。I gave public lectures,taught classes,and wrote a book of poems,Songs Of The Soul,with a preface by Dr。Frederick B。Robinson,president of the College of the City of New York。
Starting a transcontinental tour in the summer of 192,I spoke before thousands in the principal cities,ending my western trip with a vacation in the beautiful Alaskan north。
With the help of large-hearted students,by the end of 1925 I had established an American headquarters on the Mount Washington Estates in Los Angeles。The building is the one I had seen years before in my vision at Kashmir。I hastened to send Sri Yukteswar pictures of these distant American activities。
Years sped by。I lectured in every part of my new land,and addressed hundreds of clubs,colleges,churches,and groups of every denomination。Tens of thousands of Americans received yoga initiation。To them all I dedicated a new book of prayer thoughts in 1929-Whispers From Eternity,with a preface by Amelita Galli-Curci。I give here,from the book,a poem entitled“God!God!God!”,composed one night as I stood on a lecture platform:
From the depths of slumber,
As I ascend the spiral stairway of wakefulness,
I whisper:
God!God!God!
Thou art the food,and when I break my fast
Of nightly separation from Thee,
I taste Thee,and mentally say:
God!God!God!
No matter where I go,the spotlight of my mind
Ever keeps turning on Thee;
And in the battle din of activity
My silent war cry is ever:God!God!God!
When boisterous storms of trials shriek,
And when worries howl at me,
I drown their clamor,loudly chanting:
God!God!God!
When my mind weaves dreams
With threads of memories,
Then on that magic cloth I fnd embossed:
God!God!God!
Every night,in time of deepest sleep,
My peace dreams and calls,Joy!Joy!Joy!
And my joy comes singing evermore:
God!God!God!
In waking,eating,working,dreaming,sleeping,
Serving,meditating,chanting,divinely loving,
My soul constantly hums,unheard by any:
God!God!God!