Yesterday I got a day’s leave and went on with the Munshi to meet Sastriar (the Master of whom I have been writing). Sastriar and the Munshi are both chelas (disciples) of the Maharshi. We heard Sastriar lecture for an hour and a half in Tamil to a huge crowd, and he appeared refreshed by his efforts. At 2 p.m., he pointed to the cave where the Maharshi lives, and we set off up the mountain to see Him. When we reached the cave we sat before Him at His feet and said nothing. We sat thus a long while, and I felt lifted out of myself.
Then Sastriar told me to look the Maharshi in the eyes, and not to turn my gaze. For half an hour I looked Him in the eyes which never changed their expression of deep contemplation. I began to realize somewhat that the body is the Temple of the Holy Ghost — I could only feel His body was not the man, it was the instrument of God, merely a sitting motionless corpse from which God was radiating terrifically. My own sensations were indescribable.
Sastriar then said I might speak. I asked for enlightenment — teaching and He spoke and we listened. In a few sentences of broken English, and in Telugu, He conveyed worlds of meaning and taught me direct, which He seldom does, and made me His chela — not of course such a one as the Sastriar, His own very special chela but as one of the many that great Masters have.
The most touching sight was the number of tiny children, up to about seven years of age, who climb the mountain, all on their own, to come and sit near the Maharshi, even though He may not speak a word or hardly look at them for days together. They do not play, but just sit quietly there in perfect contentment.
He is a man beyond description in His expression of dignity, gentleness, self-control, and calm strength of conviction.