“You are utterly unprepared for the finals! I suppose it is up to me to help you!” The simple words conveyed divine promise to my ears; with alacrity I visited my friend’s home. He kindly outlined the solutions to various problems he considered likely to be set by the instructors. “These questions are the bait which will catch many trusting boys in the examination trap. Remember my answers, and you will escape without injury.” The night was far gone when I departed. Bursting with unseasoned erudition, I devoutly prayed it would remain for the next few critical days. Nantu had coached me in my various subjects but, under press of time, had forgotten my course in Sanskrit. Fervently I reminded God of the oversight. I set out on a short walk the next morning, assimilating my new knowledge to the rhythm of swinging footsteps. As I took a short cut through the weeds of a corner lot, my eye fell on a few loose printed sheets. A triumphant pounce proved them to be Sanskrit verse. I sought out a pundit for aid in my stumbling interpretation. His rich voice filled the air with the edgeless, honeyed beauty of the ancient tongue. {FN10-1} “These exceptional stanzas cannot possibly be of aid in your Sanskrit test.” The scholar dismissed them skeptically. But familiarity with that particular poem enabled me on the following day to pass the Sanskrit examination. Through the discerning help Nantu had given, I also attained the minimum grade for success in all my other subjects. Father was pleased that I had kept my word and concluded my secondary school course. My gratitude sped to the Lord, whose sole guidance I perceived in my visit to Nantu and my walk by the unhabitual route of the debris-filled lot. Playfully He had given a dual expression to His timely design for my rescue. I came across the discarded book whose author had denied God precedence in the examination halls. I could not restrain a chuckle at my own silent comment: “It would only add to this fellow’s confusion, if I were to tell him that divine meditation among the cadavers is a short cut to a high school diploma!” In my new dignity, I was now openly planning to leave home. Together with a young friend, Jitendra Mazumdar, {FN10-2} I decided to join a Mahamandal hermitage in Benares, and receive its spiritual discipline. A desolation fell over me one morning at thought of separation from my family. Since Mother’s death, my affection had grown especially tender for my two younger brothers, Sananda and Bishnu. I rushed to my retreat, the little attic which had witnessed so many scenes in my turbulent SADHANA. {FN10-3} After a two-hour flood of tears, I felt singularly transformed, as by some alchemical cleanser. All attachment {FN10-4} disappeared; my resolution to seek God as the Friend of friends set like granite within me. I quickly completed my travel preparations.