He told me of his daily routine, which consisted of arising at 4:00AM and beginning his meditation. His servant went down to the Ganges to get water for his tea. And wood with which to boil the water. It was a simple life and he was happy, in a serene way that I could feel in the air around him.
He conveyed his teachings to me wordlessly, for my Hindi and Sanskrit were lacking in some respects. But in his case, I didn’t need language.
I don’t even know his name.
The next day, I went to that same area of the forest. Or, at least I thought it was the same place. But there wasn’t even a trace of him, his fire, his hut. Nothing. I tried the next day, thinking I had taken a mistaken path, but no. Nobody. It was a one-day occurrence from which I osmotically received the powerful vibrations of this being.
And he has affected me ever since.