Autobiography of a Yogi 

      by Paramhansa Yogananda 

      Original First Edition, Copyright 1946, 
      by Paramhansa Yogananda 

      First Online Edition 

      Purchase a copy of Autobiography of a Yogi 




      


      Chapter 3
      The Saint With Two Bodies 
      



            "Father, if I promise to return home without coercion, may I take a 
sight-seeing trip to Benares?" 

            My keen love of travel was seldom hindered by Father. He permitted 
me, even as a mere boy, to visit many cities and pilgrimage spots. Usually one 
or more of my friends accompanied me; we would travel comfortably on 
first-class passes provided by Father. His position as a railroad official was 
fully satisfactory to the nomads in the family. 

            Father promised to give my request due consideration. The next day 
he summoned me and held out a round-trip pass from Bareilly to Benares, a 
number of rupee notes, and two letters. 

            "I have a business matter to propose to a Benares friend, Kedar 
Nath Babu. Unfortunately I have lost his address. But I believe you will be 
able to get this letter to him through our common friend, Swami Pranabananda. 
The swami, my brother disciple, has attained an exalted spiritual stature. You 
will benefit by his company; this second note will serve as your introduction." 

            Father's eyes twinkled as he added, "Mind, no more flights from 
home!" 

            I set forth with the zest of my twelve years (though time has never 
dimmed my delight in new scenes and strange faces). Reaching Benares, I 
proceeded immediately to the swami's residence. The front door was open; I made 
my way to a long, hall-like room on the second floor. A rather stout man, 
wearing only a loincloth, was seated in lotus posture on a slightly raised 
platform. His head and unwrinkled face were clean-shaven; a beatific smile 
played about his lips. To dispel my thought that I had intruded, he greeted me 
as an old friend. 

            "Baba anand (bliss to my dear one)." His welcome was given heartily 
in a childlike voice. I knelt and touched his feet. 

            "Are you Swami Pranabananda?" 

            He nodded. "Are you Bhagabati's son?" His words were out before I 
had had time to get Father's letter from my pocket. In astonishment, I handed 
him the note of introduction, which now seemed superfluous. 

            "Of course I will locate Kedar Nath Babu for you." The saint again 
surprised me by his clairvoyance. He glanced at the letter, and made a few 
affectionate references to my parent. 

            "You know, I am enjoying two pensions. One is by the recommendation 
of your father, for whom I once worked in the railroad office. The other is by 
the recommendation of my Heavenly Father, for whom I have conscientiously 
finished my earthly duties in life." 

            I found this remark very obscure. "What kind of pension, sir, do 
you receive from the Heavenly Father? Does He drop money in your lap?" 

            He laughed. "I mean a pension of fathomless peacea reward for many 
years of deep meditation. I never crave money now. My few material needs are 
amply provided for. Later you will understand the significance of a second 
pension." 

            Abruptly terminating our conversation, the saint became gravely 
motionless. A sphinxlike air enveloped him. At first his eyes sparkled, as if 
observing something of interest, then grew dull. I felt abashed at his 
pauciloquy; he had not yet told me how I could meet Father's friend. A trifle 
restlessly, I looked about me in the bare room, empty except for us two. My 
idle gaze took in his wooden sandals, lying under the platform seat. 

            "Little sir 1, don't get worried. The man you wish to see will be 
with you in half an hour." The yogi was reading my minda feat not too difficult 
at the moment! 

            Again he fell into inscrutable silence. My watch informed me that 
thirty minutes had elapsed. 

            The swami aroused himself. "I think Kedar Nath Babu is nearing the 
door." 

            I heard somebody coming up the stairs. An amazed incomprehension 
arose suddenly; my thoughts raced in confusion: "How is it possible that 
Father's friend has been summoned to this place without the help of a 
messenger? The swami has spoken to no one but myself since my arrival!" 

            Abruptly I quitted the room and descended the steps. Halfway down I 
met a thin, fair-skinned man of medium height. He appeared to be in a hurry. 

            "Are you Kedar Nath Babu?" Excitement colored my voice. 

            "Yes. Are you not Bhagabati's son who has been waiting here to meet 
me?" He smiled in friendly fashion. 

            "Sir, how do you happen to come here?" I felt baffled resentment 
over his inexplicable presence. 

            "Everything is mysterious today! Less than an hour ago I had just 
finished my bath in the Ganges when Swami Pranabananda approached me. I have no 
idea how he knew I was there at that time. 

            "'Bhagabati's son is waiting for you in my apartment,' he said. 
'Will you come with me?' I gladly agreed. As we proceeded hand in hand, the 
swami in his wooden sandals was strangely able to outpace me, though I wore 
these stout walking shoes. 

            "'How long will it take you to reach my place?' Pranabanandaji 
suddenly halted to ask me this question. 

            "'About half an hour.' 

            "'I have something else to do at present.' He gave me an 
enigmatical glance. 'I must leave you behind. You can join me in my house, 
where Bhagabati's son and I will be awaiting you.' 

            "Before I could remonstrate, he dashed swiftly past me and 
disappeared in the crowd. I walked here as fast as possible." 

            This explanation only increased my bewilderment. I inquired how 
long he had known the swami. 

            "We met a few times last year, but not recently. I was very glad to 
see him again today at the bathing ghat." 

            "I cannot believe my ears! Am I losing my mind? Did you meet him in 
a vision, or did you actually see him, touch his hand, and hear the sound of 
his feet?" 

            "I don't know what you're driving at!" He flushed angrily. "I am 
not lying to you. Can't you understand that only through the swami could I have 
known you were waiting at this place for me?" 

            "Why, that man, Swami Pranabananda, has not left my sight a moment 
since I first came about an hour ago." I blurted out the whole story. 

            His eyes opened widely. "Are we living in this material age, or are 
we dreaming? I never expected to witness such a miracle in my life! I thought 
this swami was just an ordinary man, and now I find he can materialize an extra 
body and work through it!" Together we entered the saint's room. 

            "Look, those are the very sandals he was wearing at the ghat," 
Kedar Nath Babu whispered. "He was clad only in a loincloth, just as I see him 
now." 

            As the visitor bowed before him, the saint turned to me with a 
quizzical smile. 

            "Why are you stupefied at all this? The subtle unity of the 
phenomenal world is not hidden from true yogis. I instantly see and converse 
with my disciples in distant Calcutta. They can similarly transcend at will 
every obstacle of gross matter." 

            It was probably in an effort to stir spiritual ardor in my young 
breast that the swami had condescended to tell me of his powers of astral radio 
and television2. But instead of enthusiasm, I experienced only an awe-stricken 
fear. Inasmuch as I was destined to undertake my divine search through one 
particular guruSri Yukteswar, whom I had not yet metI felt no inclination to 
accept Pranabananda as my teacher. I glanced at him doubtfully, wondering if it 
were he or his counterpart before me. 

            The master sought to banish my disquietude by bestowing a 
soul-awakening gaze, and by some inspiring words about his guru. 

            "Lahiri Mahasaya was the greatest yogi I ever knew. He was Divinity 
Itself in the form of flesh." 

            If a disciple, I reflected, could materialize an extra fleshly form 
at will, what miracles indeed could be barred to his master? 

            "I will tell you how priceless is a guru's help. I used to meditate 
with another disciple for eight hours every night. We had to work at the 
railroad office during the day. Finding difficulty in carrying on my clerical 
duties, I desired to devote my whole time to God. For eight years I persevered, 
meditating half the night. I had wonderful results; tremendous spiritual 
perceptions illumined my mind. But a little veil always remained between me and 
the Infinite. Even with super-human earnestness, I found the final irrevocable 
union to be denied me. One evening I paid a visit to Lahiri Mahasaya and 
pleaded for his divine intercession. My importunities continued during the 
entire night. 

            "'Angelic Guru, my spiritual anguish is such that I can no longer 
bear my life without meeting the Great Beloved face to face!' 

            "'What can I do? You must meditate more profoundly.' 

            "'I am appealing to Thee, O God my Master! I see Thee materialized 
before me in a physical body; bless me that I may perceive Thee in Thine 
infinite form!' 

            "Lahiri Mahasaya extended his hand in a benign gesture. 'You may go 
now and meditate. I have interceded for you with Brahma.'3 "Immeasurably 
uplifted, I returned to my home. In meditation that night, the burning Goal of 
my life was achieved. Now I ceaselessly enjoy the spiritual pension. Never from 
that day has the Blissful Creator remained hidden from my eyes behind any 
screen of delusion." 

            Pranabananda's face was suffused with divine light. The peace of 
another world entered my heart; all fear had fled. The saint made a further 
confidence. 

            "Some months later I returned to Lahiri Mahasaya and tried to thank 
him for his bestowal of the infinite gift. Then I mentioned another matter. 

            "'Divine Guru, I can no longer work in the office. Please release 
me. Brahma keeps me continuously intoxicated.' 

            "'Apply for a pension from your company.' 

            "'What reason shall I give, so early in my service?' 

            "'Say what you feel.' 

            "The next day I made my application. The doctor inquired the 
grounds for my premature request. 

            "'At work, I find an overpowering sensation rising in my spine.4 It 
permeates my whole body, unfitting me for the performance of my duties.' 

            "Without further questioning the physician recommended me highly 
for a pension, which I soon received. I know the divine will of Lahiri Mahasaya 
worked through the doctor and the railroad officials, including your father. 
Automatically they obeyed the great guru's spiritual direction, and freed me 
for a life of unbroken communion with the Beloved." 5 

            After this extraordinary revelation, Swami Pranabananda retired 
into one of his long silences. As I was taking leave, touching his feet 
reverently, he gave me his blessing: 

            "Your life belongs to the path of renunciation and yoga. I shall 
see you again, with your father, later on." The years brought fulfillment to 
both these predictions.6 

            Kedar Nath Babu walked by my side in the gathering darkness. I 
delivered Father's letter, which my companion read under a street lamp. 

            "Your father suggests that I take a position in the Calcutta office 
of his railroad company. How pleasant to look forward to at least one of the 
pensions that Swami Pranabananda enjoys! But it is impossible; I cannot leave 
Benares. Alas, two bodies are not yet for me!" 



            1 Choto Mahasaya is the term by which a number of Indian saints 
addressed me. It translates "little sir."
            Back to text 

            2 In its own way, physical science is affirming the validity of 
laws discovered by yogis through mental science. For example, a demonstration 
that man has televisional powers was given on Nov. 26, 1934 at the Royal 
University of Rome. "Dr. Giuseppe Calligaris, professor of neuro-psychology, 
pressed certain points of a subject's body and the subject responded with 
minute descriptions of other persons and objects on the opposite side of a 
wall. Dr. Calligaris told the other professors that if certain areas on the 
skin are agitated, the subject is given super-sensorial impressions enabling 
him to see objects that he could not otherwise perceive. To enable his subject 
to discern things on the other side of a wall, Professor Calligaris pressed on 
a spot to the right of the thorax for fifteen minutes. Dr. Calligaris said that 
if other spots of the body were agitated, the subjects could see objects at any 
distance, regardless of whether they had ever before seen those objects."
            Back to text 

            3 God in His aspect of Creator; from Sanskrit root brih, to expand. 
When Emerson's poem Brahma appeared in the Atlantic Monthly in 1857, most the 
readers were bewildered. Emerson chuckled. "Tell them," he said, "to say 
'Jehovah' instead of 'Brahma' and they will not feel any perplexity."
            Back to text 

            4 In deep meditation, the first experience of Spirit is on the 
altar of the spine, and then in the brain. The torrential bliss is 
overwhelming, but the yogi learns to control its outward manifestations.
            Back to text 

            5 After his retirement, Pranabananda wrote one of the most profound 
commentaries on the Bhagavad Gita, available in Bengali and Hindi.
            Back to text 

            6 See page 259.
            Back to text 
           
     

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