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5

 

seen in the West... and at the signal, this torrent of damsels broke down all dams! Pukar, the itinerant disciple opposite me, and I and some others. joined hands to stem the tide from overwhelming Baba through sheer force of love, reinforced with garlands and embraces! I inwardly thanked Paramhansaji Yogananda for strengthening my muscles and enabling me to hold fast with hands locked to Pukar. Sweat poured from our brows and we were bowled on the floor, like forwards in a rugby football scrum, but we enjoyed every minute.

 

Eventually the pressure eased and Baba was borne outside to give prasad to the multitude, now gathered in thousands. The mandali fought manfully to control the crowds, and when comparative order was soon restored, I sat watching the lines of lovers offering their wholehearted homage to Him, with intervals during which Hindu chants of rare beauty were sung. During one of these, a one armed man approached me and asked if I were Scotch. Briefly explaining who I was, we fell into conversation, and I was able to supply him with information about Baba, whose photo from several angles he had already taken. His name was Professor Erhard Glitz, of Hildersheim, West Germany, and he was in India, studying the religious life and Indian ways, with a view to lecturing to German universities. Not following any orthodox religion, but having good will to all, he said he was receptive to truth, and had already formed the opinion that Indians were far more spiritual than people in the West. He put it in a terse and forceful way, something like this: "A few Western Christians think of religion sometimes by occasionally going to church on Sundays. The Hindu is religious every day of the week!"

 

I revealed to him the spiritual status of Baba, and added as I often do on such occasions, that I did not expect him to take my word for it, and indeed that it was quite impossible for him to understand unless and until he had studied Eastern metaphysics and spiritual science, contained in such books as "God Speaks" In the end he gave me his address, and I gladly promised to write to him by the middle of April when he would be back in Germany, and also to send him a copy of Irene Conybeare's "Civilization or Chaos?" and some of Baba's messages.

 

It was now nearly 3 p.m., the hour fixed for departure, and Baba left amidst the plaudits of thousands. Estimation of numbers on such occasions

 

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