Название:
Автор:
Жанр:
Серия:
Издательство:
before claws and fangs. But I dealt out dazing retribution. Mutually ensanguined, we struggled as to the death. The cage was pandemonium, as blood splashed in all directions, and blasts of pain and lethal lust came from the bestial throat. "'Shoot him!' 'Kill the tiger!' Shrieks arose from the audience. So fast did man and beast move, that a guard's bullet went amiss. I mustered all my will force, bellowed fiercely, and landed a final concussive blow. The tiger collapsed and lay quietly. "Like a pussycat!" I interjected. The swami laughed in hearty appreciation, then continued the engrossing tale. "Raja Begum was vanquished at last. His royal pride was further humbled: with my lacerated hands, I audaciously forced open his jaws. For a dramatic moment, I held my head within the yawning deathtrap. I looked around for a chain. Pulling one from a pile on the floor, I bound the tiger by his neck to the cage bars. In triumph I moved toward the door. "But that fiend incarnate, Raja Begum, had stamina worthy of his supposed demoniac origin. With an incredible lunge, he snapped the chain and leaped on my back. My shoulder fast in his jaws, I fell violently. But in a trice I had him pinned beneath me. Under merciless blows, the treacherous animal sank into semiconsciousness. This time I secured him more carefully. Slowly I left the cage. "I found myself in a new uproar, this time one of delight. The crowd's cheer broke as though from a single gigantic throat. Disastrously mauled, I had yet fulfilled the three conditions of the fight-stunning the tiger, binding him with a chain, and leaving him without requiring assistance for myself. In addition, I had so drastically injured and frightened the aggressive beast that he had been content to overlook the opportune prize of my head in his mouth! "After my wounds were treated, I was honored and garlanded; hundreds of gold pieces showered at my feet. The whole city entered a holiday period. Endless discussions were heard on all sides about my victory over one of the largest and most savage tigers ever seen. Raja Begum was presented to me, as promised, but I felt no elation. A spiritual change had entered my heart. It seemed that with my final exit from the cage I had also closed the door on my worldly ambitions. "A woeful period followed. For six months I lay near death from blood poisoning. As soon as I was well enough to leave Cooch Behar, I returned to my native town. "'I know now that my teacher is the holy man who gave the wise warning.' I humbly made this confession to my father. 'Oh, if I 28 could only find him!' My longing was sincere, for one day the saint arrived unheralded. "'Enough of tiger taming.' He spoke with calm assurance. 'Come with me; I will teach you to subdue the beasts of ignorance roaming in jungles of the human mind. You are used to an audience: let it be a galaxy of angels, entertained by your thrilling mastery of yoga!' "I was initiated into the spiritual path by my saintly guru. He opened my soul-doors, rusty and resistant with long disuse. Hand in hand, we soon set out for my training in the Himalayas." Chandi and I bowed at the swami's feet, grateful for his vivid outline of a life truly cyclonic. I felt amply repaid for the long probationary wait in the cold parlor! {FN6-1} SOHONG was his monastic name. He was popularly known as the "Tiger Swami." {FN6-2} "Prince Princess"-so named to indicate that this beast possessed the combined ferocity of tiger and tigress. CHAPTER: 7 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 gave him an enthusiastic smile. "Perhaps I can guess his name. Was it Bhaduri Mahasaya, of 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. "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. "I have seen him in remarkable feats. He has expertly mastered the various PRANAYAMAS {FN7-1} of the ancient eightfold yoga outlined by Patanjali. {FN7-2} 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. {FN7-3} The aura of peace after the storm was vivid beyond forgetting." "I heard that the saint never leaves his home." Upendra's tone was a trifle incredulous. "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." "How does he remain in the air, defying the law of gravitation?" "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 {FN7-4} have been known to levitate during a state of 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. "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!" On my way home from school that afternoon, I passed Bhaduri Mahasaya's cloister and decided on a visit. The yogi was inacces- sible 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. "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 oth-ers. Worldly people do not like the candor which shatters their delusions. Saints are not only rare but disconcerting. Even in scripture, 29 they are often found embarrassing!" 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. "Maharishi, {FN7-5} you are the first yogi I have known who always stays indoors." "God plants his saints sometimes in unexpected soil, lest we think we may reduce Him to a rule!" 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 saint and I entered the meditative state. After an hour, his gentle voice roused me. "You go often into the silence, but have you developed ANUBHAVA?" {FN7-6} He was reminding me to love God more than meditation. "Do not mistake the technique for 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)." His yogic pun affected me uproariously. "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. "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. "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." 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. [Illustration: BHADURI MAHASAYA, "The Levitating Saint" "Sir," I inquired, "why do you not write a book on yoga for the benefit of the world?" "I am training disciples," He replied. "They and their students will be living volumes, proof against the natural disintegrations of time and the unnatural interpretaations of the critics."--see badhuri.jpg] "Maharishi, I wish you would write a book on yoga for the benefit of 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 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. 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. "Tell
