"Never." Bowing reverently at his feet, I departed without lightening
the controversial tension. As I made my way in the midnight darkness,
I wondered why the miraculous meeting had ended on an inharmonious
note. The dual scales of MAYA, that balance every joy with a grief!
My young heart was not yet malleable to the transforming fingers
of my guru.

The next morning I noticed increased hostility in the attitude
of the hermitage members. My days became spiked with invariable
rudeness. In three weeks, Dyananda left the ashram to attend a
conference in Bombay; pandemonium broke over my hapless head.

"Mukunda is a parasite, accepting hermitage hospitality without
making proper return." Overhearing this remark, I regretted for the
first time that I had obeyed the request to send back my money to
Father. With heavy heart, I sought out my sole friend, Jitendra.

"I am leaving. Please convey my respectful regrets to Dyanandaji
when he returns."

"I will leave also! My attempts to meditate here meet with no more
favor than your own." Jitendra spoke with determination.

"I have met a Christlike saint. Let us visit him in Serampore."

And so the "bird" prepared to "swoop" perilously close to Calcutta!

{FN10-1} SANSKRITA, polished; complete. Sanskrit is the eldest
sister of all Indo-European tongues. Its alphabetical script is
DEVANAGARI, literally "divine abode." "Who knows my grammar knows