We Do Not Visit Kashmir
“Father, I want to invite Master and four friends to accompany me to the Himalayan foothills during my summer vacation. May I have six train passes to Kashmir and enough money to cover our travel expenses?”
As I had expected, Father laughed heartily. “This is the third time you have given me the same cock-and-bull story. Didn’t you make a similar request last summer, and the year before that? At the last moment, Sri Yukteswarji refuses to go.”
“It is true, Father; I don’t know why my guru will not give me his definite word about Kashmir. [20-1] But if I tell him that I have already secured the passes from you, somehow I think that this time he will consent to make the journey.”
Father was unconvinced at the moment, but the following day, after some good-humored gibes, he handed me six passes and a roll of ten- rupee bills.
“I hardly think your theoretical trip needs such practical props,” he remarked, “but here they are.”
That afternoon I exhibited my booty to Sri Yukteswar. Though he smiled at my enthusiasm, his words were noncommittal: “I would like to go; we shall see.” He made no comment when I asked his little hermitage disciple, Kanai, to accompany us. I also invited three other friends- Rajendra Nath Mitra, Jotin Auddy, and one other boy. Our date of departure was set for the following Monday.
On Saturday and Sunday I stayed in Calcutta, where marriage rites for a cousin were being celebrated at my family home. I arrived in Serampore with my luggage early Monday morning. Rajendra met me at the hermitage door.
“Master is out, walking. He has refused to go.”
I was equally grieved and obdurate. “I will not give Father a third chance to ridicule my chimerical plans for Kashmir. Come; the rest of us will go anyhow.”