{FN27-7} i.e., give up the body. {FN27-8} Lahiri Mahasaya’s guru, who is still living. (See chapter 33.) {FN27-9} The second KRIYA, as taught by Lahiri Mahasaya, enables the devotee that has mastered it to leave and return to the body consciously at any time. Advanced yogis use the second Kriya technique during the last exit of death, a moment they invariably know beforehand. {FN27-10} My meeting with Keshabananda is described in chapter 42. CHAPTER: 28 KASHI, REBORN AND REDISCOVERED “Please do not go into the water. Let us bathe by dipping our buckets.” I was addressing the young Ranchi students who were accompanying me on an eight-mile hike to a neighboring hill. The pond before us was inviting, but a distaste for it had arisen in my mind. The group around me followed my example of dipping buckets, but a few lads yielded to the temptation of the cool waters. No sooner had they dived than large water snakes wiggled around them. The boys came out of the pond with comical alacrity. We enjoyed a picnic lunch after we reached our destination. I sat under a tree, surrounded by a group of students. Finding me in an inspirational mood, they plied me with questions. “Please tell me, sir,” one youth inquired, “if I shall always stay with you in the path of renunciation.” “Ah, no,” I replied, “you will be forcibly taken away to your home, and later you will marry.” Incredulous, he made a vehement protest. “Only if I am dead can I be carried home.” But in a few months, his parents arrived to take him away, in spite of his tearful resistance; some years later, he did marry. After answering many questions, I was addressed by a lad named Kashi. He was about twelve years old, a brilliant student, and beloved by all. “Sir,” he said, “what will be my fate?” “You shall soon be dead.” The reply came from my lips with an irresistible force. This unexpected disclosure shocked and grieved me as well as everyone present. Silently rebuking myself as an ENFANT TERRIBLE, I refused to answer further questions. On our return to the school, Kashi came to my room. “If I die, will you find me when I am reborn, and bring me again to the spiritual path?” He sobbed. I felt constrained to refuse this difficult occult responsibility. But for weeks afterward, Kashi pressed me doggedly. Seeing him unnerved to the breaking point, I finally consoled him. “Yes,” I promised. “If the Heavenly Father lends His aid, I will try to find you.” [Illustration: Kashi, lost and rediscovered—see kashi.jpg] During the summer vacation, I started on a short trip. Regretting that I could not take Kashi with me, I called him to my room before leaving, and carefully instructed him to remain, against all persuasion, in the spiritual vibrations of the school. Somehow I felt that if he did not go home, he might avoid the impending calamity.