The Master’s walking made no sound. For years he walked barefoot, but in later life took to canvas shoes. There was a poise in his every movement. When he spoke, the flow of language was steady and natural, and tongue-slips were conspicuous by their absence.
In appearance the Master was far too simple—no colourful marks on the forehead, no matted locks or flowing beard, no rosaries around his neck, no beads, bangles or ear-rings—just enough clothing to protect his person from the weather and to ensure decency in society. In winter he wore an overcoat and in summer two large pieces of cotton, one around his waist, and the other over his shoulders and across his chest.
It so happened one day in 1956 that an old South Indian lady walked into the Ashram office to have Darshan of the Master. He greeted her with an "Om" and folded hands, showed her a seat and made kind enquiries about her health and her pilgrimage. When he resumed his work the lady quietly walked out. Near the dispensary she asked an Ashramite, "Where is Swamiji? When can I see him?"
Sri N. Ananthanarayanan
To be continued ...