“Dear brother,” she said, “I am well, and my husband is sick. Nevertheless, I want you to know that, as a devoted Hindu wife, I am going to be the first one to die. [22-2] It won’t be long now before I pass on.”
Taken aback at her ominous words, I yet realized their sting of truth. I was in America when my sister died, about a year after her prediction. My youngest brother Bishnu later gave me the details.
“Roma and Satish were in Calcutta at the time of her death,” Bishnu told me. “That morning she dressed herself in her bridal finery.
“‘Why this special costume?’ Satish inquired.
“‘This is my last day of service to you on earth,’ Roma replied. A short time later she had a heart attack. As her son was rushing out for aid, she said:
“‘Son, do not leave me. It is no use; I shall be gone before a doctor could arrive.’ Ten minutes later, holding the feet of her husband in reverence, Roma consciously left her body, happily and without suffering.
“Satish became very reclusive after his wife’s death,” Bishnu continued. “One day he and I were looking at a large smiling photograph of Roma.
“‘Why do you smile?’ Satish suddenly exclaimed, as though his wife were present. ‘You think you were clever in arranging to go before me. I shall prove that you cannot long remain away from me; soon I shall join you.’
“Although at this time Satish had fully recovered from his sickness, and was enjoying excellent health, he died without apparent cause shortly after his strange remark before the photograph.”
Thus prophetically passed my dearly beloved eldest sister Roma, and her husband Satish-he who changed at Dakshineswar from an ordinary worldly man to a silent saint.