"Years ago, right in this very room you now occupy, a Mohammedan wonder-worker performed four miracles before me!"  
Sri Yukteswar made this surprising statement during his first visit to my new quarters. Immediately after entering Serampore College, I had taken a room in a near-by boardinghouse, called Panthi . It was an old- fashioned brick mansion, fronting the Ganges.
 
"Master, what a coincidence! Are these newly decorated walls really ancient with memories?" I looked around my simply furnished room with awakened interest.
 
"It is a long story." My guru smiled reminiscently. "The name of the fakir 18-1 was Afzal Khan. He had acquired his extraordinary powers through a chance encounter with a Hindu yogi.
 
"'Son, I am thirsty; fetch me some water.' A dust-covered sannyasi made this request of Afzal one day during his early boyhood in a small village of eastern Bengal.
 
"'Master, I am a Mohammedan. How could you, a Hindu, accept a drink from my hands?'
 
"'Your truthfulness pleases me, my child. I do not observe the ostracizing rules of ungodly sectarianism. Go; bring me water quickly.'
 
"Afzal's reverent obedience was rewarded by a loving glance from the yogi.
 
"'You possess good karma from former lives,' he observed solemnly. 'I am going to teach you a certain yoga method which will give you command over one of the invisible realms. The great powers that will be yours should be exercised for worthy ends; never employ them selfishly! I perceive, alas! that you have brought over from the past some seeds of destructive tendencies. Do not allow them to sprout by watering them with fresh evil actions. The complexity of your previous karma is such that you must use this life to reconcile your yogic accomplishments with the highest humanitarian goals.'
 
"After instructing the amazed boy in a complicated technique, the master vanished.
 
"Afzal faithfully followed his yoga exercise for twenty years. His miraculous feats began to attract widespread attention. It seems that he was always accompanied by a disembodied spirit whom he called 'Hazrat.' This invisible entity was able to fulfill the FAKIR'S slightest wish.
 
"Ignoring his master's warning, Afzal began to misuse his powers. Whatever object he touched and then replaced would soon disappear without a trace. This disconcerting eventuality usually made the Mohammedan an objectionable guest!
 
"He visited large jewelry stores in Calcutta from time to time, representing himself as a possible purchaser. Any jewel he handled would vanish shortly after he had left the shop.
 
"Afzal was often surrounded by several hundred students, attracted by the hope of learning his secrets. The fakir occasionally invited them to travel with him. At the railway station he would manage to touch a roll of tickets. These he would return to the clerk, remarking: 'I have changed my mind, and won't buy them now.' But when he boarded the train with his retinue, Afzal would be in possession of the required tickets. 18-2
 
"These exploits created an indignant uproar; Bengali jewelers and ticket-sellers were succumbing to nervous breakdowns! The police who sought to arrest Afzal found themselves helpless; the fakir could remove incriminating evidence merely by saying: 'Hazrat, take this away.'"
 
Sri Yukteswar rose from his seat and walked to the balcony of my room which overlooked the Ganges. I followed him, eager to hear more of the baffling Mohammedan Raffles.
 
"This Panthi house formerly belonged to a friend of mine. He became acquainted with Afzal and asked him here. My friend also invited about twenty neighbors, including myself. I was only a youth then, and felt a lively curiosity about the notorious fakir ." Master laughed. "I took the precaution of not wearing anything valuable! Afzal looked me over inquisitively, then remarked:
 
"'You have powerful hands. Go downstairs to the garden; get a smooth stone and write your name on it with chalk; then throw the stone as far as possible into the Ganges.'
 
"I obeyed. As soon as the stone had vanished under distant waves, the Mohammedan addressed me again:
 
"'Fill a pot with Ganges water near the front of this house.'
 
"After I had returned with a vessel of water, the fakir cried, 'Hazrat, put the stone in the pot!'
 
"The stone appeared at once. I pulled it from the vessel and found my signature as legible as when I had written it.
 
"Babu, 18-3 one of my friends in the room, was wearing a heavy antique gold watch and chain. The fakir examined them with ominous admiration. Soon they were missing!
 
"'Afzal, please return my prized heirloom!' Babu was nearly in tears.
 
"The Mohammedan was stoically silent for awhile, then said, 'You have five hundred rupees in an iron safe. Bring them to me, and I will tell you where to locate your timepiece.'
 
"The distraught Babu left immediately for his home. He came back shortly and handed Afzal the required sum.
 
"'Go to the little bridge near your house,' the fakir instructed Babu. 'Call on Hazrat to give you the watch and chain.'
 
"Babu rushed away. On his return, he was wearing a smile of relief and no jewelry whatever.
 
"'When I commanded Hazrat as directed,' he announced, 'my watch came tumbling down from the air into my right hand! You may be sure I locked the heirloom in my safe before rejoining the group here!'
 
"Babu's friends, witnesses of the comicotragedy of the ransom for a watch, were staring with resentment at Afzal. He now spoke placatingly.
 
"'Please name any drink y............