#	Title Text 	Type of item	Begin Page source pub	Refers to page for text	Status note	Full Text	
 1 	AWAKENING THE EARLY LIFE OF A SPIRITUAL MASTER	Outside Front Cover 	Cov – frnt-out			AWAKENING THE EARLY LIFE OF A SPIRITUAL MASTER	
1.a`	---Blank ---	Inside Front cover	Cov –frnt - in				
1.b	AWAKENING   Sri Chinmoy 	Cover spine	Cov - spn			AWAKENING   Sri Chinmoy   Citadel	
2	AWAKENING by SRI CHINMOY	Title Page Publisher	1			AWAKENING by SRI CHINMOY  1988  CITADEL BOOKS Edinburgh	
3	First published in 1988 by
Citadel Books	Publisher, Print  and Publishing details	2			First published in 1988 by Citadel Books 21 WaverleyPark Edinburgh EH88ER Scotland	
3.a	© 1988 Sri Chinmoy	Copyright	2			© 1988 Sri Chinmoy	
3.b	Edited and Compiled by Alan Spence	Editor	2			Edited and Compiled by Alan Spence	
3.c	Illustrations by Janet Melrose	Illustrator	2			Illustrations by Janet Melrose	
3.d	Typesetting by Tom Kane	Typsetting	2			Typesetting by Tom Kane	
3.e	Printed in Scotland by
Spectrum Printing Company  	Printing	2			Printed in Scotland by Spectrum Printing Company Limited
2 Young Square, Livingston, West Lothian EH54 9BX	
4	CONTENTS 	Contents	3				
4.a	Introduction		3	5	Extract - rewrite for new use.. Maybe not most of part b & c occult.,  death and mystical at present. May distract from other more accessible / appropriate at present

See possible extract below

	In the introduction to his book on the great Indian spiritual master Sri Ramakrishna, Christopher Isherwood wrote that for the purposes of the book he would describe Ramakrishna, simply, as a 'phenomenon,' avoiding more contentious labels such as 'saint,' 'avatar,' or 'holy man.' Certainly in discussing Sri Chinmoy, a great contemporary spiritual teacher, the adjective 'phenomenal’ in its present day sense, would seem an appropriate one to use!

Sri Chinmoy was born in what was then Bengal in 1931. His parents died when he was a child, and he went with his brothers and sisters to live in an ashram, or spiritual community. There, he recounts, at the age of thirteen, he attained a profound spiritual realisation. He spent the next 20 years in the ashram, deepening and expanding this realisation. Then in 1964, obeying what he called an 'inner command,' he came to live and work in the West. Since then his progress has been well documented. His 'mission' has been to show that spirituality has to 'come down from the Himalayan caves' to function amid the hustle and pressure of twentieth-century urban life. (He himself lives in New York City!) He embodies a uniquely dynamic synthesis of East and West, combining 'the spirituality of the East and the dynamism of the West.' He is a prolific author and poet, painter and musician. He has also dedicated himself tirelessly to working for world peace, through his lectures, his worldwide Peace concerts, and, since 1970, his twice-weekly Peace Meditations for delegates and staff at the United. Nations headquarters in New York. Since his youth he has been a keen athlete, and his own fitness programme includes running, tennis and weightlifting. By his own example in these fields he has inspired races and other sporting events in his name all over the world.

All of this activity has brought him into contact with some of the world's best-known names in sport, the arts and politics, and his influence can be said to be both profound and far-reaching. He is among the best known and most respected of spiritual teachers ever to come from India to the West. Clearly the early life of such a man, the family he grew up in, the influences which shaped him, his earliest inklings of spiritual awakening, would all be of considerable interest, just as in Isherwood's book on Ramakrishna, the tales and anecdotes of the master's childhood made endlessly fascinating reading. It is the aim of this little book to give such insights into Sri Chinmoy's early days. Told entirely in his own words, most of the stones gathered here appear in print for the first time. (The others appeared in AUM magazine in the late sixties and early seventies). The first section, on his earliest childhood, contains stories told recently (as of first printing in 1988). They have all the simple directness and charm, the warmth and intimate sweetness of tales told to a gathering of family and friends. There is great humour in them, but also a poignancy, especially in the stories of his remarkable parents who died when he was so young. Accounts of his own brushes with death - a series of astonishing escapes - form the second section of the book. Like the grateful passengers in one story, miraculously rescued from a sinking boat, we have to agree that it was this child's 'fate' to be saved! The third and last section of the book is perhaps the most intriguing of all. Most of these pieces were written by Sri Chinmoy at an early age. In an intensely heightened and consciously poetic language, he describes profoundly visionary experiences - meetings and sweet exchanges with personal forms of his 'Beloved Supreme.' These are both beautiful and deeply moving. The final two stories in this section were written in the seventies. They recall experiences from his teens and introduce two significant figures from the pantheon of Hindu gods. And it is clear that these gods are not mere mental constructs, or allegorical figures, or anthropomorphic projections. As the great Vivekananda once declared, 'They are the forms which the Bhaktas [Devotees] have seen!' At the same time, Sri Chinmoy reminds us that these realities are our own. 'It is we who have to embody Agni, the flame of aspiration, in the inmost recesses of our hearts.' And inside this aspiration, he tells us, is our realisation, our fulfilment, our endless awakening to who we really are.	
4.a.1	Introduction – Possibe extract for subset of stories	Possible extract				Possible extract:for introduction “Told entirely in his own words, most of the stones gathered here appear in print for the first time. (The others appeared in AUM magazine in the late sixties and early seventies). The first section, on his earliest childhood, contains stories told recently (as of first printing in 1988). They have all the simple directness and charm, the warmth and intimate sweetness of tales told to a gathering of family and friends. There is great humour in them, but also a poignancy, especially in the stories of his remarkable parents who died when he was so young”.	
4.b	Sri Chinmoy [with Photo]		3	8			
4.c	GROWING UP	Cont-Sect	3	9			
4.c.01	Aiming at the Heavens	Contents	3	11		When I was a little boy, I had a small torch - what you call a flashlight - and I used to enjoy looking at things. I used to shine it on the top of a mango tree and say I was aiming at the Heavens. My brothers and relatives used to laugh. In the Mahabharata there is a story about how the Pandavas tried to walk to Heaven, but each of them dropped dead on the way. We had a cook who was a real joker. He would say, 'In the Mahabharata the Pandavas failed to walk to Heaven. Now he is sending the torchlight first so we can follow.' My father didn't appreciate that kind of joking. He would say, 'Don't discourage the children!' 	
4.c.02	My Only Ambition 	Contents	3	12		Because my father was a train inspector, we could travel free all over India. I used to enjoy riding on the train so much. The trains were long, with many seats inside. In those days they were not so crowded. Now they are very crowded; there is no room. Indian trains were like bullock carts - thirty miles per hour. Whenever we went on the train, everybody in the family used to fall asleep during the trip, but I couldn't wait to see the next station. There people used to carry things on their heads, and they had a peculiar way of shouting, 'Tea!' and other things. My mother, brothers and sisters all used to sleep, but there was no sleep for me! My only ambition was to become a ticket collector or an inspector like my father. He started out as an ordinary inspector. Then he became head inspector of the whole line. But God didn't fulfill my desire! 	
4.c.03	Kettledrum	Contents	3	13		During my childhood, I was known by the affectionate Bengali nickname, Madal, meaning Kettledrum (because I was always making so much noise!) Sometimes my grandmother would find my liveliness too much for her, and she would say, 'This Kettledrum will bring about the total destruction of the family!' My mother would protest confidently, 'Nonsense! On the contrary, Madal is sure to bring us abundant name and fame. He is destined to be played on by the gods and goddesses in the skies!' 	
4.c.04	Stories from the Mahabharata	Contents	3	14		During the school holidays my mother used to tell me stories from the Mahabharata. I could not read such big books, but I used to listen to her stories and tell them to my relatives. Quite often it happened that her only aim in telling me the stories was to put me to sleep when I wanted to stay outside and play or eat mangoes. In the late afternoon she would call me into the house and start telling me stories. After five minutes I would pretend to be fast asleep. Mother would be very happy; she would close her book and then watch carefully to see if I were really asleep. But I was watching her, too. Finally she would fall asleep, and then I would get up and run away. 	
4.c.05	A Singer and a Poet	Contents	3	15		My first singing teacher was my sister Ahana, beginning when I was four or five years old. She taught me many Bengali songs and continued to inspire me in my singing. Once, when I was six or seven, for some childish reason I became angry with my entire family! I retreated to bed, refusing even to eat supper. Ahana came to my bedroom and sang my favorite songs to me, trying to beguile me from my sulky mood. But I remained silent, pretending to be asleep. Ahana remarked, 'How strange! I had thought you were also a singer, and yet you do not join me in my songs. Real singers can sing even in their sleep!' She resumed her singing, and I joined in. Ahana triumphantly carried the 'real' singer off to the kitchen to eat. Ahana also introduced me to poetry. When I was seven, she told me that Rabindranath Tagore had received the Nobel Prize for his poetry in 1913. Ahana was very proud of this honour that had been accorded our countryman. I immediately decided mat I too would win this prize for my poems. Unfortunately I did not know what a poem was! Ahana explained that poems were composed of words that rhymed with one another. 'Ah! That is easy!' I exclaimed. Thai! Jal!' (The Bengali words for fruit and water). And so I became a poet! 	
4.c.6	Who Wants to Study?	Contents	3	16		My father became the owner and manager of a small bank. He used to spend all week in town, and he slept in the bank building, where there were many rooms. He came home on Friday evening, stayed for the weekend, and went back to work on Monday morning. From time to time I used to get inspired to go with him. My brother Mantu and I had a private tutor. The tutor used to give us our lessons near a little temple we had for the goddess Lakshmi. From the comer of my eye I would see my father go to the temple for blessings and then start walking to the small dock to catch the ferry. Quite a few times I tried to follow him in secret. I used to watch him for two blocks and then run after him. I wanted to do it secretly, but my brother and the tutor used to shout at me, so I was always caught. When my father saw me I would start crying that I didn't want to go to school. He would say, 'How can I take you with me all the time? You have to go to school!' My brother would tell my mother what had happened. She also felt that I should go to school, but she knew it was a hopeless case. So she would send a servant with extra clothes for me to wear in town, since I would be wearing only shorts and a T-shirt. Like this, many times I used to go to town instead of going to school. Who wants to study? For seven or eight years I never studied. I would learn from my brother and my tutor. Then, when exams came, I always stood first. Of course, my teacher was always very, very indulgent to me because my father was a big shot in the village! When I was in town, the whole day I would just roam. I was fascinated by the thieves, so I used to go to court to watch them. I also liked to go to the Karnaphuli river to see the boats and ships.

My maternal uncle lived in town, and I would always stay with him. He was very close to us. His wife was an excellent cook and could make delicious meals out of absolutely nothing. Often I would spend a whole week there. But if I insisted on staying in town for more than one week, either my mother would come to town herself, or she would send someone else to bring me back. When I visited my aunts in the villages, my mother would not allow me to stay for more than two days at a time. She didn't like it when I stayed away too long. I was her dearest child, and without me she used to feel miserable. But quite a few times she allowed me to stay at my uncle's house for a week. I would always cry when I had to go back home. Why? I was very fond of my mother, but at home I had to study. Studying was too much, too much!	
4.c.07	The Lion and the Goats	Contents	3	18		My eldest brother Hriday always used to get a hundred out of a hundred in mathematics. He took after my father. My sister Ahana descended to sixty and Mantu to forty. I descended to thirty- three! Fortunately, in the Indian system thirty-three is passing. Sometimes with greatest difficulty I would get forty. I used to memorise everything in the book, but the teacher would change the questions in the examinations, so my memorisation didn't work. When my brothers were in college, my father used to tell them mathematical equations from memory while he was lying down relaxing. He would help them solve their problems with such speed and accuracy that he always astonished them. Such brains my father had! That is why my aunt used to say that my father was a lion and my brothers were goats. 	
4.c.08	Washing My Father's Feet	Contents	3	19	Question use may not be time to not distract the general public from other info on the site.	Early in the morning, at weekends, my mother used to come with a glass of water and wash my father's feet with utmost devotion. It is an old Indian tradition. Even though my father had just taken a shower, still she would wash his feet She also used to wash his feet before he went to the temple. My mother used to touch my father's feet in front of her children, servants - everyone. When my mother used to do that, our love for her would increase. We all had tremendous love and respect for our mother.	
4.c.09	My Mother's Wish	Contents	3	20		Once my mother was attending a performance by a local theatre company of a play based on the life of Sri Chaitanya, the great Bengali spiritual Master. At one point in the story, Sri Chaitanya's mother was shedding tears because her son had taken a solemn vow to renounce the world and follow the spiritual life. My own mother, in the audience, became racked with sobs. My brother Chitta attempted to console her. 'Mother, don't cry! Sri Chaitanya was disobedient to his mother, but we will never be so. We will remain with you always. Have no fear.' My mother protested, 'But you don't understand why I am crying. It is because I want all my children, sons and daughters alike, to follow that path. I long for each one of them to be able to realise God in this life!' Such was my mother's inner cry. 	
4.c.10	My Father and His Swami Brother	Contents	3	21	Question timing of release of story on public site.	Swamis lead a very austere life. They renounce the world and live off alms. Once a seeker is initiated as a Swami, he can't touch anyone's feet except his Master's. My uncle was initiated by a Master, and my father came to see him. My father was older than my uncle, so my uncle said, "This is my older brother. I have to touch his feet.' My father told my uncle's Guru, 'My mother has requested that I bring my brother back. He has to come with me.' Because of his fondness for my father, my uncle left his Master and returned home. Their mother lived only a month or two after that My uncle stayed until she died. Then he said to my father, 'I have only one boon I want from you in this incarnation.' My father knew what it was and said, 'Granted!' He said that my uncle would never have to come back to stay with his family again. He could always stay with his Guru. My father used to go and see his Swami brother once a year at the Guru's ashram. 	
4.c.11	My Father and the Occultist - Introduction	Contents	3	22	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	My father had a distant relative who was a great occultist. The occultist was very spiritual, and he was very fond of both my father and my mother. This relative never paid any attention to studies; he didn't even go to primary school. But since he was a very great occultist, many people used to go to visit him when they were in trouble. If a cow was stolen, he would tell the owner to go to a particular village to find it. This occultist helped my father many times. 	
4.c.11-1	My Father and the Occultist – Curing a son			22	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	Once my father went to him when my brother Chitta was very sick. Both Chitta and a relative's son were seriously ill in the hospital. The occultist said to my father, 'Doctors are useless! They won't be able to cure your son. Here, I am giving you blessing ash from the feet of Mother Kali. If you put this on your son's head, he will be all right.' Because of his great love and respect for my father, the occultist helped my brother Chitta. But when the other relative whose son was also in the hospital went to the occultist, the occultist said, 'God is also in the doctors,' and he didn't help him. Unfortunately, the doctor's medicine did not do the needful. The relative's son died, and my brother recovered. So the occultist's ash saved my brother, whereas the doctor's medicine could not cure our relative's son.	
4.c.11-2	My Father and the Occultist – Protecting a generous heart and removing a signature			22	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	There is another very striking story about this occultist. My father felt sorry for a particular family that had opened up a shop and gone bankrupt. People were bothering them to pay their debts, so my father wrote them a postcard promising to give them some money. The family kept the postcard and planned to use it in court to prove that my father was responsible for their debts. A friend of my father heard about this and told the occultist. The occultist said, 'I will take care of it.' The friend had faith in him and told my father not to worry. When this family brought the postcard to court, the judge saw that there was no signature on it. So he said that my father could not be held responsible. From a distant Indian village the occultist removed the signature just before the judge looked at the postcard.	
4.c.11-3	My Father and the Occultist – inwardly expecting, outwardly preparing food			23	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	Once my father and a friend went to see the occultist very late at night, around midnight. Village people usually go to bed around eight o'clock, so by that time everyone in the village was fast asleep. The occultist happened to ^be meditating, and he saw inwardly that my father and a friend were coming. He had tremendous respect for my father, so he woke up his mother and said, 'They have been traveling for a long time and they haven't eaten. Please cook something.' When my father and his friend arrived, the food was ready.	
4.c.11-4	My Father and the Occultist – a Broomstick Mantra			23	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	One day this occultist went to Calcutta, and people begged him to give a talk. His first sentence was, 'Without God everything is a broomstick.' The word he used was a village word, from Chittagong dialect, which Calcutta people did not know. They thought it was a mantra, and they started repeating it. In the audience were five or six women from Chittagong. They started laughing. The Calcutta people were furious that the Chittagong people were so rude, and the Chittagong people were so embarrassed that the Calcutta people were repeating the occultist's mantra!	
4.c.11-5	My Father and the Occultist – wedding bondage & wife’s refusal of underserved pranams			23	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	When the occultist was a young man, his parents forced him to get married, even though he didn't want to. When he saw his wife in the palanquin, he cried, 'Bondage, bondage!' and jumped out. Then he ran away. What a calamity he created! The case went on for a long time in the Chittagong High Court. 23 In later years he allowed his wife to come back to him, but she never cared for meditation - never! When he died, the occultist's disciples tried to persuade her to take his place, but she refused. She said, 'No, I cannot accept your pranams and all your devotion.'	
4.c.12	The Bone in the Throat	Contents	3	25	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	My father had the capacity to remove bones that were caught in people's throats. If someone had been eating meat or fish and if a bone got stuck in his throat, my father knew how to remove it occultly. Just before my father's death, when I was ten years old, a middle-aged Muslim man got a bone stuck in his throat. He went to so many doctors, and they all said he had to undergo a serious operation. The Muslim found out that my father had the capacity to remove bones from people's throats, so he came to see my father along with two or three of his friends. By that time the Muslim had become very, very weak because he had not been able to eat for so many days, and he was screaming and crying in agony. The Muslim was told to wait in the courtyard. At that time my father was bedridden and he was near death. Everybody was annoyed that at this time the Muslim had come to bother him. My brother and uncle thought that perhaps because my father was on his deathbed, he had lost the capacity to remove bones from people's throats. So they casually asked him if he still had the capacity. He said, 'Yes, I have the capacity. Is there anybody suffering from that same problem in the family?' They said, 'It is not anyone in the family, but someone else • a Muslim.' My brother and my uncle were dead against his using his capacity to help the man. They said, 'These people are so impure and undivine. We do not want him to come into your room.' My father said, 'He can stay in the courtyard and I will cure him from my bed. Just ask him to lie down.'  My father rubbed his throat three or four times, breathed heavily a few times and coughed. Then he said, 'Go and look!' When the members of the family went out to the courtyard, they found that the bone in the Muslim's throat had disappeared. The Muslim was crying with joy. He wanted to give my father so much money, but my father would not accept it. This was my father's last act for a Muslim. He didn't know the man; he was not even an acquaintance of my father. But just because he was suffering my father helped him. Two or three days later my father died. 	
4.c.13	My Father's Occult Power – Pumkin Seeds & Headachs 	Contents	3	27	Questionable use at present – Occultism may distract for other parts of site	My father had other kinds of occult power, as well as the ability to remove bones from people's throats. He could look at a pumpkin while it was still on the vine and say how many seeds were inside. When we would cut it up and count all the seeds, it would be exactly the number he had said. That I saw only twice, but other members of my family saw it several times. My father could also take away very severe headaches. When I was a little boy, I used to beg him and beg him to teach me occultism. He never did, but by the time I was ten years old, occultism descended on me like a torrential rain. 	
4.c.14	The Dhoti	Contents	3	28		My brother had a special dhoti. When I saw that particular dhoti, I wanted to have it, and I started crying for it. How could my brother tell me that it was for our father when he died? I was such a fool! I went to my father and told him that my brother had such a nice dhoti and he would not give it to me. My father got the point. He said to my brother, 'I am not going to die. You give it to him!' When my father uttered the word 'die,' I felt miserable, and tears came into my eyes. After that I didn't take my brother's dhoti. 	
4.c.15	The Last Illness 	Contents	3	29		Shortly before my father died, he had an attack of pleurisy. One night at twelve o'clock he started perspiring like anything. The doctor came and gave him two or three injections and some powder, and the perspiration stopped. Before that attack he was quite healthy, but afterwards he never got well again. He finally died of a liver problem. At one point my father and mother were both sick. The two patients were staying in separate rooms. When the doctor came, my father said, 'I am not needed. If I die, my wife will take care of the children. Go and look after her.' But my mother said, 'Please go and cure him. I am insignificant.' Each of them sent the doctor to take care of the other one! Finally, my father compelled the doctor to take care of my mother first. So many doctors worked on my mother. My father had only one or two doctors, but my mother had doctor after doctor. She suffered so much. My father died one year before my mother. This is the proof of their soul's connection. Both of them had been related to me in a past incarnation. 	
4.c.16	Consolation from Krishna's Conch 	Contents	3	30		After my father was cremated, we came back home and everybody was crying and crying. Who would console whom? But in three hours a Bengali newspaper called Pancha Janya, or 'Krishna's Conch’ came out with an article all about my father. As soon as I read about how nice and great my father was, I stopped crying. Even then, for weeks I would look at his picture early in the morning and cry. I would appreciate, admire and adore him, saying, 'Oh, I am his son.' 	
4.c.17	Indian Superstition	Contents	3	31	Questionable – maybe not now 	It is an Indian superstition that when someone in your family dies, you become impure. When my father died, I had to shave off my hair. For one month we had to go through such austerities. During this month I had to sit for an examination with about three hundred students from many different schools. During the examination I was not allowed to sit on a bench; I had to sit on the floor. Because my father'had died, I was considered an untouchable. The students that were around me laughed like anything. For at least an hour I suffered because of their mockery. If you remain in an uncivilised village atmosphere, this is what happens! Again, there were teachers who were very compassionate when someone's father died. 	
4.c.18	Food for the Dead	Contents	3	32		In India they observe quite a few rituals when someone dies. For a month after someone dies, the family will put all kinds of food in front of the house in case the person who has died is still hungry. Our family put out food when my father died. Very often we saw a dog come to eat it. At first we got annoyed, but then the village brahmin gave us sound advice. He said, 'No, your father has taken the form of a dog and is eating the food.' After that we used to be very moved whenever a dog came. I observed this at least six or seven times with tears in my eyes, thinking, 'Oh, my father is eating!' The dog would eat the food, and I would look at the dog with such affection! This was just a village custom, but we observed it for one month after my father died, and also after my mother died. 	
4.b	ESCAPES FROM DEATH	Cont-Section	3				
4.b.01	'My Prayer is Stronger man Smallpox	Contents	3	35		As a child of three I was attacked by a very serious type of smallpox. My illness got worse day by day. The doctor had lost all hope and the family priest felt that I would not survive. One night the priest dreamed that I had died. He ran to our house immediately, at dead of night, and knocked at the door. My mother, quite alarmed, opened the door. The priest rushed toward me, as I lay fast asleep inside the mosquito net. Until then my suffering had been most pitiful, but I suddenly awoke, screaming a healthy cry. Upon hearing this the priest started striking his chest with his fists, in joy or dismay, or both, and tearing at his hair. 'Oh God!' he cried. 'You have deceived me. But my heart is overwhelmed with joy and gratitude at your deception!' My mother wanted to know why the priest had come at such a late hour, so the priest, still trembling, told her all about his dream. My mother replied, 'Venerable sir, my prayer is infinitely stronger than a child's smallpox.' 	
4.b.02	The Saviour Boat from the Depths of the Unknown	Contents	3	36	Maybe not now – use other stories

May nisunderstand 
”They felt that it was my fate that had caused their lives to be saved too”	When I was a child of five, I was coming home from town one day with my older brother, who was already an adult. We were riding back in a small ferry which was somewhat like a shuttle boat traveling from our village to the town and back again. It held six or eight passengers, including my brother and myself. The ride ordinarily took about an hour and a half, as the river, the Karnaphuli, is one of the widest and wildest rivers in India. On this particular day, the river was in its wildest fury. After a heavy downpour of rain, a storm continued to rage. In addition to this misfortune, the boat had sprung a large leak and immediately started to sink. It was sailing in the heart of the wide river, at least three miles from either shore. The passengers were panic-stricken. They, as well as the boatman, did not fail to invoke the Indian gods and goddesses for immediate help. Rama, Krishna, Kali and Durga were all invoked. Tears were rolling down the cheeks of my older brother, for he knew that I could not swim. The boatman pitifully cried out for help, but the neighbouring boats paid no heed. They too were caught in the storm and were possibly facing a similar calamity. Slowly but inexorably the boat was sinking, sinking, carrying the panicky passengers with it. The fateful moment was not far off. Suddenly, to the wide surprise of boatman and passengers, a boat sprang up, empty, from the depths of the waters, right in front of their sinking boat - scarcely ten feet away. In no time the boatman caught hold of me and threw me into the empty boat. Then all the other passengers hurriedly jumped into the boat, one by one. I was embraced by each and every passenger. They felt that it was my fate that had caused their lives to be saved too. When the storm of nature was totally over, two boatmen shouted from a distance, 'We're coming to help you!' But help was not needed now. When help was really sought after it was not forthcoming from any human being. It came directly from God. And this kind of timely help we get only from God. 	
4.b.03	How Sweet and Tempting is Sugar Cane	Contents	3	38	Maybe not because focus on sacrifice? Use other stories first	Once our family was performing the Kali Puja, the festival of Mother Kali. At the time I was about seven years old. Many sacrifices were offered. The most important was the sacrifice of a live goat. Someone would hold the legs of the animal tightly, while its head was placed at the end of the scaffold. For the sacrifice to be successful, the priest had to perform it with one stroke of his sharp scimitar. If the priest failed on the first stroke, it was said that the devil's doings would befall the family that was performing the Puja. After the sacrifice of the goat, it was customary that fruits also be sacrificed to Mother Kali. In this case also, to make the sacrifice successful, the priest had to cut these fruits in half with only one stroke of the scimitar. Then he would fling the fruits out to the spectators, and the lucky ones would catch it. Soon came the time for the sugar cane sacrifice. The cane was placed on the scaffold that had held the goat and the fruits. The top portion of the sugar cane has a few leaves and is not edible, but the main body of the plant is most delicious. I noticed that some of my friends, who had been standing near the top portion of the sugar cane, had quietly moved around the back of the audience to the other side so that they could stand near the other end of the altar. They knew that the body of the sugar cane would be flung in that direction. The priest had grasped the scimitar in both hands and swung it above his head, even extending his hands behind his head in order to get better leverage for the final thrust necessary to perform the job successfully. Just as the priest was beginning to swing, I jumped over the scaffold. In the nick of time, the priest halted his swing and turned the scimitar back. A wave of panic swept those who were watching. I had escaped by a hair's breadth from a great calamity! Had the priest not been able to stop his swing, I would have been in the other world! Fortunately, the divine in the priest had immediately endowed him with the life-saving skill. My father approached me in a calm and quiet manner and embraced me with both arms. There was not a trace of worry or anxiety in his face - only tranquil joy streaming forth. My father then took the priest aside and said, 'You have saved my son's life. Whatever reward you want I shall immediately give you - money, property or anything else I have. I shall give it to you here and now.' The priest, still trembling from the experience, cried out, 'Reward! What reward? I have saved my mentor's dearest son! What greater joy can there be on earth?' 	
4.b.04	My Mother in the eyes of a Lion	Contents	3	40		When I was ten I went to visit my maternal uncle who lived in the country. There was a chain of mountains nearby - about two and a half miles away. I was extremely fond of roaming in these mountains. One afternoon about two o'clock, all my friends were in school, so I decided to go for a walk alone on one of the mountains. I had been to this mountain many times accompanied by my friends and relatives. But we had only wandered through the fringes of the mountain, which were most accessible. This time, being alone, I got more joy from the adventure! I roamed further and further until I was in the thick of the dense forest which covered the mountain. I was very fond of a certain kind of fruit called jujub. There were many jujub trees in the forest, so I climbed one of them and ate my fill. When I climbed down, there, facing me, only ten feet away, was a mountain lion! We stood there, face to face, and the lion, far from showing a ferocious look, was all mildness. Furthermore, reflected in the lion's eyes, I saw the face of my own mother who was in my home village, six miles away. This went on for several minutes. Seeing my mother in the eyes of the lion, I felt no fear and raised no cry. I was calm and serene. The more I looked into the lion's eyes, the greater was the affectionate feeling I received from the lion. Very slowly, after about five minutes, I started to move away, turning my back to the lion and walking slowly and cautiously. After covering a reasonable distance - perhaps a quarter of a mile, I turned back to see if the lion was following me. Then I took to my heels and ran for dear life! I covered a mile in a short time - crying and shouting for help with, 'Save me! Save me! I saw a lion!' When I finally came to my aunt's house I was trembling and screaming. My aunt felt as though I had died and come back to life by some miracle. Some of the villagers showed sympathy, some scolded, others mocked. My aunt was holding me as if I had been killed by the lion! Although it had been decided that I would be staying at my uncle's home for a few days, quite unexpectedly my mother arrived that day. In the afternoon she had been having a siesta, and had dreamed that I was attacked and killed by a lion! She came to her brother's home, practically insane with grief, assuming that I had died. I was practically bathed in a sea of tears shed by mother and aunt at seeing me alive and safe. 	
4.c	AWAKENING	Cont-Sect	3				
4.c.01	A Sea of Light	Contents	3	45	Questionable use at present – use other stories for now       The section out of context may seem to discouraging? : “Useless, everything is useless. There is no hope of creating a divine world here on earth. It is only a childish dream.' I felt, too, that I could not go on even with my own life. This seemed to be nothing but a thorny desert …”	(an experience at the age of fourteen – 1945?) Whenever I had the opportunity, I flew to the edge of the ever- blue sea and took my seat there in solitude. My bird of consciousness, dancing slowly, rose to the sky and lost itself up there. On this occasion - it was a full-moon night - as I gazed and gazed upon the blue-white horizon, I found only light, a sea of sweet and serene light. All was engulfed, as it were, in an infinite Ocean of Light which played lovingly on the sweet ripples. My finite consciousness was in quest of the Infinite and Immortal. I drank deeply of Ambrosia and was floating on an illumined ocean. It seemed that I no longer existed on this earth. All of a sudden - I do not know why or how - something put an end to my sweet dream. No longer did the air emit its honey-like immortal bliss, for my own depressed thoughts had come to the fore: 'Useless, everything is useless. There is no hope of creating a divine world here on earth. It is only a childish dream.' I felt, too, that I could not go on even with my own life. This seemed to be nothing but a thorny desert strewn with endless difficulties. 'Why should I suffer these unbearable pains and sorrows here? I am the son of the Infinite. I must have freedom. I must have the ecstasy of Paradise. Why then should I not leave this mortal world for my Eternal Abode in Heaven?' A sudden flash of lightning appeared over my head. Looking up with awe and bewilderment, I found above me my Beloved, the King of the Universe looking at me. His radiant face was overcast with sorrow. 'Father,' I asked, approaching him, 'what makes Thy Face so sad?' 'How can I be happy, My son, if you do not wish to be My companion and help Me in My Mission? I have, concealed in the world, millions of sweet plans which I shall unravel. If My children do not help Me in My Play, how can I have My Divine Manifestation here on earth?' Profoundly moved, I bowed and promised: 'Father, I will be Thy faithful companion, loving and sincere, throughout Eternity. Shape me and make me worthy of my part in Thy Cosmic Play and Thy Divine Mission.'	
4.c.02	Lord of My Heart	Contents	3	47	Review – Rethink before use. Consider context.	'Who and what am I? Why have I come into this mortal world? And what is the aim of my life?' Some sort of answers to these questions arose in my mind. But my mind was not at all satisfied with them. All of a sudden, in a full moon night of spring, a young boy appeared before me. His face was so beautiful! And it seemed to me that his twinkling eyes were playing with the little waves of light He must have been in his teens, most probably fourteen or fifteen. I asked him very gently, 'Where have you come from? And what do you want?' He answered, 'From your own heart I have appeared to fulfil your wish. Can't you recognise me?' Soon I came to know that he was no one else but my Lord. I bowed down before His Lotus Feet and prayed to Him not to leave me alone any more. My Lord said, 'I will never leave you. Remember ever that he alone who loves Me wholeheartedly, without any desire, and likes to play ever with Me, is dear to Me. He is my very soul. Alas! only a few companions I have in this world.'	
4.c.03	A Vision (1948)	Contents	3	48	Review – Rethink before use. Consider context.	A radiant figure with a golden lyre of very soft and sweet cadence was singing in my heart. I asked Her, 'Who and what art Thou?' She answered, 'I am the Divine Mother. As a fruit of penance, covering many aeons I have got thee from my Beloved. I have brought thee forth on the bosom of the universe. In thy happiness and sorrow, in thy victory and defeat, I reside ever with thee. On thy journey to the Goal I lead and guide thee with infinite love and care of the Mother. It is I who am to unite thee, when thy part in the Play is over, with the ever pure Self of my Beloved, thy Father. Thou art a, hero, a prince, a lord of the cosmos. In thee is the seed of 'the whole Immortal Self. And I am the eternal Life-Force, delightful and superconscient, come out from the bosom of the Supreme for Play.'	
4.c.04	Awakening 	Contents	3	49	Review – Rethink before use. Consider context.	Midnight. The sky was overcast with clouds. It was raining in torrents. A sweet surge of bliss had entered my heart and awakened me from sleep. I got up and after a while began to look here and there. I found nobody and was unable to know from whom the sweet bliss had come. So with a heavy heart I was going to have my sleep again. Suddenly someone in me cried aloud, saying, 'Look to the sky, my dear, just look to the sky.' I looked. It was raining no more. No cloud was to be seen. The eternally pure face of the moon was shining brightly. Soon I felt my bird of consciousness was dancing in the bosom of the Moon. I found a sweet and flower-like hand beckoning me with great love. Soon, dancing with infinite joy, my heart began to fly up to the blue sky from where my friend was calling me. On the way only once I looked down on the earth. There I saw some earthly beings calling me with great affection and requesting me not to go to my Goal. On the other hand, some were saying, 'Our loving friend, proceed on, onward. Our Beloved is calling you.' I responded to the ardent wish of the latter. I reached my Goal. The flower-like hand commanded me to go into the depth of my heart and see His whole creation. With what joy I saw His entire creation in me! The Hand touched my head lightly and transformed me into light, love and beauty. 	
4.c.05	Saraswati 	Contents	3	50	Review – Rethink before use. Consider context.	 Saraswati, according to our Indian philosophy, is the mother of art, the mother of music, the mother of knowledge. She plays on the vina, and when she plays she illumines the aspiring consciousness of humanity. She is the supreme artist, and when her compassion flows in and through an individual, if that particular individual is receiving her Compassion-Light, then he becomes a supreme artist. When I was fourteen or fifteen years old, Saraswati came to me once and played on her vina most soulfully. Then afterwards she broke her vina into pieces and gave the pieces to me. She said that she had taken all her knowledge and all her musical capacities and other capacities and thrown them into me, but only as much as I was able to receive. So of wisdom perhaps I received a little	
4.c.06	Agni 	Contents	3	51	Review – Rethink before use. Consider context.	Agni is one of our cosmic gods. According to Hindu mythology, he is second only to Indra. Agni means fire. This refers to the aspiring flame mat rises from our inmost being; again Agni refers to the Fire-God himself. We are all aspirants. We are all seekers after the infinite Truth. It is we who have to embody Agni, the flame of aspiration, in the inmost recesses of our hearts. The Vedic sages, who said they had seen Agni, saw a particular form of Agni according to their own spiritual growth. The rishis or seers saw many forms of the gods according to their own individual realisation. For example, when someone invoked the power aspect of Agni, then in the vital world he saw Agni with his tongue out and his hair a mass of flame. Another aspirant, invoking the benevolent aspect of the god would meet Agni as a benign, glowing deity, full of luminous, compassionate power. A third aspirant, after committing some serious moral blunder in the physical plane, and thinking the god would be angry with him, would meet Agni's destructive and angry form. But the real Agni, the cosmic god in his highest consciousness and in his nitya rupa, his eternal form, will appear in front of a seeker in normal human form with two arms, two legs and so on. He looks very tall and very beautiful. At the age of nineteen I first saw Agni during my highest state of meditation. Long before that, at the age of thirteen, I knew about my own realisation from past lives. But one day at the age of nineteen, while I was meditating very deeply, Agni Devata, the highest god, came and stood in front of me. I was deeply moved to see him thus for the first time. 1 At the present time I don't have to meditate deeply to be blessed by Agni. Now I am blessed by the Supreme. At any moment, I can approach the Supreme and I can also have a free access to all the cosmic gods and goddesses. They have the same free access to me. At that time, Agni came and stood in front of me and he spoke to me in English, not in Bengali. Agni said to me, 'Aspiration is realisation and realisation is aspiration.' This was the message he gave me. Then he asked me if I understood him. My immediate answer was, 'Yes, I have understood you." Then he said, 'Then tell me what it means.' I replied, 'Human aspiration embodies realisation. Realisation is something we discover. We do not invent it. So inside aspiration, realisation is there. When our aspiration is complete, we see that there realisation looms large. Realisation is not something totally different from aspiration. It is inside the abode of our aspiration. Again, it is realisation that tells us that we have to eternally aspire to reach the ever-transcending Beyond.	
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5.a	Sri Chinmoy is one of the most respected teachers ever to come from .	Outside back cover		' 52 .  		Sri Chinmoy is one of the most respected spiritual teachers ever to come from India to the West. This fascinating collection- brings together a number of stories - most of them appearing in print for the first time - in which this remarkable man talks of his early life in India. There are tales of his earliest childhood, the family he grew up in, the influences which shaped him. There are accounts too of a series of astonishing escapes from death, some of them almost defying rational explanation! Finally there are stories of his profound spiritual awakening, the intensely visionary experiences of his youth. These are both beautiful and deeply moving, offering a unique insight into his spiritual unfoldment, his realisation, his inner discovery.