The body of Pranabananda, which had appeared so well and strong during my amazing first visit to him in Benares, now showed definite aging, though his posture was still admirably erect. “Swamiji,” I inquired, looking straight into his eyes, “please tell me the truth: Aren’t you feeling the advance of age? As the body is weakening, are your perceptions of God suffering any diminution?” He smiled angelically. “The Beloved is more than ever with me now.” His complete conviction overwhelmed my mind and soul. He went on, “I am still enjoying the two pensions-one from Bhagabati here, and one from above.” Pointing his finger heavenward, the saint fell into an ecstasy, his face lit with a divine glow-an ample answer to my question. Noticing that Pranabananda’s room contained many plants and packages of seed, I asked their purpose. “I have left Benares permanently,” he said, “and am now on my way to the Himalayas. There I shall open an ashram for my disciples. These seeds will produce spinach and a few other vegetables. My dear ones will live simply, spending their time in blissful God-union. Nothing else is necessary.” Father asked his brother disciple when he would return to Calcutta. “Never again,” the saint replied. “This year is the one in which Lahiri Mahasaya told me I would leave my beloved Benares forever and go to the Himalayas, there to throw off my mortal frame.” My eyes filled with tears at his words, but the swami smiled tranquilly. He reminded me of a little heavenly child, sitting securely on the lap of the Divine Mother. The burden of the years has no ill effect on a great yogi’s full possession of supreme spiritual powers. He is able to renew his body at will; yet sometimes he does not care to retard the aging process, but allows his karma to work itself out on the physical plane, using his old body as a time-saving device to exclude the necessity of working out karma in a new incarnation. Months later I met an old friend, Sanandan, who was one of Pranabananda’s close disciples. “My adorable guru is gone,” he told me, amidst sobs. “He established a hermitage near Rishikesh, and gave us loving training. When we were pretty well settled, and making rapid spiritual progress in his company, he proposed one day to feed a huge crowd from Rishikesh. I inquired why he wanted such a large number. “‘This is my last festival ceremony,’ he said. I did not understand the full implications of his words. “Pranabanandaji helped with the cooking of great amounts of food. We fed about 2000 guests. After the feast, he sat on a high platform and gave an inspired sermon on the Infinite. At the end, before the gaze of thousands, he turned to me, as I sat beside him on the dais, and spoke with unusual force. “‘Sanandan, be prepared; I am going to kick the frame.’ {FN27-7}