On a Sunday morning in 1955,I was sitting with my family in Shillong.The weather was pleasant in this beautiful hill station,and the breeeze blew softly through the pine trees, producing an uncanny effect on one’s mind.Someone who had been introduced to me a few days earlier as an excellent amateur astrologer,and worked in the Audit Department of the Government of India,unexpectedly came in and we started a discussion about the best path for spiritual evolution.He talked about his yogi guru in the Himalayas,who was reported to be 150 years old and his guru’s guru who, according to him,was over 400 years old.He talked about some breath-taking miracles which he personally had witnessed,while staying in the cottage of his guru in those high hills.The narration was extremely thrilling and the man’s character left me in no doubt that the account must be true.He mentioned how his guru fed scores of disembodied souls in his cottage on festive occassions,and of the appreance of dazzling lights when these souls arrived for the feast and the manner in which food for those who did not come,was despatched by mere thought process to their sanctuary in the Himalayas.
This kind of story is not uncommon in India.But when he told me how his Guru had removed his disciple’s soul from his body and made him face his soulless body ,to realise the relationship between the soul and the body,I was amazed.I had never heard of anyone performing such an extraordinary act.Fortunately,this Yogi Guru was still alive and could be contacted through another another disciple, who was serving in the Forest Department.I had heard of and met a large number of yogis and sadhus but here was one without equal.I felt an intense desire to meet him and I carefully noted the address of his contact in the Forest Department.I was told by my astrologer friend that his Yogi Guru had no more than five disciples and did not appreciate any necomers.He recommended that I should send a basket of fruit to the yogi through this contact.If he accepted the fruit, I should go and meet him;if he did not,I should not make any attempt,lest he get annoyed and cursed me.
Soo,I found myself posted to the north at Divisional HQ,the jurisdiction of which included the yogi’s residential area.I took the first opportunity to visit units in the hills where this yogi was.To my dismay,I discovered that I had lost his address and even forgotten his name.But I had the address of the Forest Officer,so all was well,I thought.On enquiry,however,I found that nthe Forest Officer had died a year ago.I was heartbroken.The only hope I had of meeting Yogi Bawa Hari Das had now been smashed. The orderly detailed by the unit to look after me found me morose and uncommunicative.He asked me why I was so miserable, I told him the whole story and ordered him to move out into the vicinity of the town and find the whereabouts of a yogi who was known to be 150 years old.He came back after a complete day’s outing and gave me the happy news that he had found the address from an old disciple in the village nearby.He, however,could not guarntee whether this yogi would see me when we reached his cottage in the wooded hills,several miles away.I later discovered that this orderly was also one of the disciples and although he knew all about the yogi,he refused to divulge anything till he had consulted the senior disciple in the nearby village.HOW the only disciple in the army got detailed and planted as my orderely,to make it possible for me to meet Bawa Hari,was yet another miracle.
We walked together to meet him;myself,the orderly and the old disciple.The path was rough,uphill and full of tall grass amongst pine trees,where, I was told, cobras were quite common.The orderly told me,however, that the cobras were harmless and were only there to protect this great yogi.There were panthers also, I presumed,for the same purpose.I had my own doubts about the capability of these wild animals to sift good men from the bad; mistaken identity could spell a painful death.
Sweating and puffing hard,we arrived at the gate of the compound of the yogi’s beautiful cottage.The compound appeared to be well wired-in and the gate, as usual, had been locked by the yogi,who,I was told,sat in his meditation room most of the time.Withthe door of his meditation room closed,shouts from outer gate could hardly reach him.It was, therefore,all a matter of luck whether one could meet him.He came out to cook his only daily meal at about 10 a.m. and in a couple of hours he had cooked,fed and gone again.The only room inside had no sleeping berth and contained only a meditation seat.They said he never slept but had his rest during meditation. The older disciple told me he had first met Bawa Hari some forty years ago when he arrived in this jungle and started on his course of austerity.He was then 100 years old,making him now about 140 years of age.
Whilst this man shouted to his guruji to come and open the gate,I was forming a mental picture of a very old man,bent down by age and hardly able to walk. Instead we saw a lean,erect and sprightly figure come quickly up to the gate,clad only in white sheet from head to foot. He opened the gate and we all rushed to the gushing spring close by,to wash our feet and hands before bowing to him and touching his feet with our foreheads ,
a common salutation to the yogis and sadhus in India.The yogi apperared rather curt when he asked me who had given me his address and the purpose of my visit.The orderly and the older disciple were trembling with fear, lest they be cursed for having brought me there, and so disturb his seclusion without his consent.I quickly told him the whole story of my auditor friend in Shillong and my subsequent efforts to contact him.He smiled when he learnt that my orderly had not disclosed the secret to me.
His stern face immediately became kind and warming.He said,”My son,you must eat here today.I shall cook for you.A roast chicken with other special dishes await for you in the Cantonment from where you have come.My food is going to be very simple and vegetarian,but it is wholesome and will do you good”.He was right.A magnificent lunch awaited me in the Cantonment where I was being honoured by a famous battalion.It would not be easy to explain my absence from a party where I was the guest of honour.There was, however,no other course open to me but to accept the great yogi’s invitation and stay with him the whole day.
The cottage was beautiful and had been the gift of his Forest Office disciple, who had also brought spring water in a pipe line to his cottage,so making it really heavenly.Bawa Hari cooked his food in a steam cooker.It consisted of rice,some cereal and clarified butter with some salt.It was delicious.At his bidding on that day,twenty years ago,I became vegetarian and a teetotaller.I had never been fond of drinking although during the British days it was a necessary social evil.But my vegetarianism was widely talked about in army circles,due to the fact that, since that day,eating meat has never really attracted me.
Hesitatingly,I broached the subject of this yogi’s guru and the dis embodied souls he sometimes invited to a feast.He said,”The Guru is over 400 years old,and sits in that part of Himalays”,pointing his finger towards a snow covered peak, “and has to lift his overhanging eyebrows with his finger from his eyes,so that he can see you physically”. He then explained how he had wandered for some twenty years along the coast of Arabian Gulf and over the Tibetan plateau undergoing austerities and hoping to discover his Inner Being, all without any result. After he had become considerably emaciated and had lost all hope of finding his goal,he walked back into India,towards the lower ranges of the Himalayas and settled down in a desrepit old temple.He started singing ‘God’s Name’ in that temple where some villagers would bring some milk or rice for him and join him in the devotional singing. One day a crazy fellow came from nowhere,whom no one in the village recognised.He had a shoe on one foot,the other being bare.As he enterted the temple with one shoe on,the whole congregation shouted at him,pointing out the sacrilege he was committing by entering the temple with a shoe on.He just laughed and said,”The whole world is God’s temple.Which temple are you talking about?Anyway,I have come to your miserable yogi priest”, and taking this yogi by arm,he marched outside.As soon as they were out of sight of the villagers,he told the yogi,”I have been sent by my guruji,who says you are now in a fit state to take initiation from him.Accompany me and I will take you there in a moment”.The yogi did not give any further details about his meeting and inititation by his guru.He confirmed that this guru and many other sidhas,or evolved souls,sometimes visited him by invitation and were fed by him.
I asked of him if he could invite them on my behalf on Sunday,so that I could serve them the food and possibly
have darshan .He said, “You have not reached the stage when you can see them,but you will see the preparations and their disposal.” He said he was going to consult his guru.When he reappeared from his meditation room,his face was ecstatic.He said an American disembodied soul was present when he approached his guru and said that Sunday was a very holy day;a feast would be welcomed.The guru had, therefore,agreed to come along with seventy other souls including this American.On my return to the Cantonment,I discovered that the Sunday fell on 25 December-Christmas Day.The yogi, however,however could have no idea of this without an English calender.I was struck by the cosmopolitan nature of this spiritual fraternity and was all the more anxious to witness whatever I could of this supernatural phenomenon.
I arrived at the yogi’s cottage on Saturday afternoon with the prescribed paraphernalia of food items purchased from the market.The old disciple also came,being a cook by vocation.We spent the afternoon peeling freshly plucked bean pods and washing everything several times over with the spring water.The whole night was spent in preparing food for seventy men.The menu was quite elaborate and contained some of the best known Indian sweet and spice dishes.The metal plates and glasses to be used for serving food were
washed thoroughly by the three of us,the third person being the young son of the old disciple.The yogi took no part in helping us.
At 11 a.m. on Sunday,the food was ready,served in plates which were handed over one by one to Bawa Hari Das,who stood some eightmetres away from us,at the entrance to the hall which was to accommodate the guests.He took about thirty filled plates with thirty glasses full of water.He said the remainning guests had not come and the food would be sent to them in their caves.He asked me to pray while the Sidhas were eating the food,which I did.After about twenty minutes the empty and half empty plates and tumblers were brought by the yogi and handed over to us.The first plate had ben used by the yogi’s guru and the prasad or food left on the plate was blessed by the guruji.Every plate and glass showed traces of having been touched,some only partially,while others were completely empty.The inside of the hall was not visible from where I was standing.No sound of any kind could be heard and the feast was over.My logical mind had some genuine misgivings and could not make out how such a vast quantity of food had been consumed without even a cough.The yogi would have been dead if he had eaten even one-third of that quantity.I toyed with the idea of having a good look inside the hall to see if the food had not been dumped into a deep hole there.I think the yogi guessed my thoughts since he wentout of his cottage telling me that he would be back after a while.I went right into the hall and lifted the straw matting spread on the floor.I could discover no hole,no droppings,not even a few drops of water.It was a stunning experience.
Later, during my long contact with Bawa Hari Das,which still continues,I saw and heard quite a few unbelievable miracles which were rightly attributed to him.He is a remarkable man in every way.I have now known him for about twenty years and he looks the same,only a little leaner and more agile.His path of spiritual evolution is extremely difficult and may not suit a householder, but my respect and admiration for this man will never diminsh.What I had read in The Autobiography of a Yogi by Yogananda,made sense only after I met Bawa Hari Das.
I cannot forget a remark he made about the yoga practices.He said,”My path is extremely difficult.This time piece(pointing to an larm clock) dictates all my activity.I have no powers to change it.My guruji is so strict that he nullified seven years of my austerities simply because I had slapped a self-confessed sinner in anger.I was put back in kindergarten.It is much easier for a householder to be aware of God than for a yogi .His engagement inthe battle of life gives him opportunities which are denied to a yogi.Had I known this before,I would never joined this arduous path”.
A poor Brahmin had once broughtn his young daughter to Shri Bawa Hari Das and requested him to adopt the girl as his own daughter,since the Brahmin was in no position to get her married.The yogi accepted this and one day a Brahmin havildar(Sergant)clerk came to pay his respects to him.The yogi felt that this man was a suitable match for his adopted daughter and therefore arranged their marriage which was quite successful.the havildar later became a subedar and both the husband and wife used to visit Shri Bawa Hari Das often.Although the girl,when unmarried,was allowed to stay inside the cottage and cook for the yogi,after her marriage she was lodged in a room outside the cottage compound with her husband.The yogi had talked to me about the peity of this girl and the fact that even the yogi’s guru raised no objection to her cooking or serving the food to them.
I had heard that one night after her marriage she had actually seen with her naked eyes the yogi’s guru arriving by a flying palanquin in a blazing light.I was anxious to get the true version from her.By coincidence she happened to visit Shri Bawa Hari Das’ cottage when I was there.He introduced me to her,thus giving me an opportunity to ask her about the authenticity of her story.This is what she told me:
“I was just married and was staying with my husband in the outer room on one of our visits.My menstrual periods had started,so I did not venture inside the cottage.One night at about midnight as I was looking out of the window,I noticed a flying palaki or palanquin,in a blaze of light.The cushioned and golden seats within the palaki were clearly visible.I saw some sidhas,looking very holy and impressive,sitting inside this object was flying through the night without making any sound at all.I shouted for my husband to come have a look at the guru’s palaki.Meanwhile I started praying with my folded hands in the direction of the flying object.I noted that the palaki hovered in mid-air for a long time,for as long as I was praying.Then, with a blessing,it flew away.I pointed this thing out to my husband but he only saw some burning light in the sky and could not see the palaki or the guru.Next morning Shri Bawa Hari Das spoke to me and said:”Child,you delayed the guru for forty-five minutes in the air by your long prayer”.Only then did I fel certain that I had seen the guruji.”
This girl was very simple and I was convinced that her story was genuine.
Shri Bawa HariDas had told me about his guru having dropped some good Chinese rice on top of his cottage when he had run short of rice, he had never mentioned that his guru came in a flying object.My auditor friend had also mentioned some dazzling lights on top of the yogi’s cottage on some nights,but had not seen the palaki.
The world of the yogi is a strange one,exciting in its possibilities and making the spiritual path attractive to many.Distinguished yogis like Shri Bawa Hari Das Maharaj serve as beacon lights to those who wish to practice Hatha Yoga.Their powerful thought vibrations help humanity in more ways than one.
Tags: Flying Palaki.
