As the first streaks of dawn penetrated the fissures of my dark room, I set out for Ranbajpur. Crossing rough paddy fields, I trudged over sickled stumps of the prickly plant and mounds of dried clay. An occasionally-met peasant would inform me, invariably, that my destination was “only a KROSHA (two miles).” In six hours the sun traveled victoriously from horizon to meridian, but I began to feel that I would ever be distant from Ranbajpur by one KROSHA. At midafternoon my world was still an endless paddy field. Heat pouring from the avoidless sky was bringing me to near-collapse. As a man approached at leisurely pace, I hardly dared utter my usual question, lest it summon the monotonous: “Just a KROSHA.” The stranger halted beside me. Short and slight, he was physically unimpressive save for an extraordinary pair of piercing dark eyes. “I was planning to leave Ranbajpur, but your purpose was good, so I awaited you.” He shook his finger in my astounded face. “Aren’t you clever to think that, unannounced, you could pounce on me? That professor Behari had no right to give you my address.” Considering that introduction of myself would be mere verbosity in the presence of this master, I stood speechless, somewhat hurt at my reception. His next remark was abruptly put. “Tell me; where do you think God is?” “Why, He is within me and everywhere.” I doubtless looked as bewildered as I felt. “All-pervading, eh?” The saint chuckled. “Then why, young sir, did you fail to bow before the Infinite in the stone symbol at the Tarakeswar temple yesterday? {FN13-2} Your pride caused you the punishment of being misdirected by the passer-by who was not bothered by fine distinctions of left and right. Today, too, you have had a fairly uncomfortable time of it!” I agreed wholeheartedly, wonder-struck that an omniscient eye hid within the unremarkable body before me. Healing strength emanated from the yogi; I was instantly refreshed in the scorching field. “The devotee inclines to think his path to God is the only way,” he said. “Yoga, through which divinity is found within, is doubtless the highest road: so Lahiri Mahasaya has told us. But discovering the Lord within, we soon perceive Him without. Holy shrines at Tarakeswar and elsewhere are rightly venerated as nuclear centers of spiritual power.” The saint’s censorious attitude vanished; his eyes became compassionately soft. He patted my shoulder. “Young yogi, I see you are running away from your master. He has everything you need; you must return to him. Mountains cannot be your guru.” Ram Gopal was repeating the same thought which Sri Yukteswar had expressed at our last meeting.