"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."
 
Rajendra agreed; I left the ashram to find a servant. Kanai, I knew, would not take the trip without Master, and someone was needed to look after the luggage. I bethought myself of Behari, previously a servant in my family home, who was now employed by a Serampore schoolmaster. As I walked along briskly, I met my guru in front of the Christian church near Serampore Courthouse.
 
"Where are you going?" Sri Yukteswar's face was unsmiling.
 
"Sir, I hear that you and Kanai will not take the trip we have been planning. I am seeking Behari. You will recall that last year he was so anxious to see Kashmir that he even offered to serve without pay."
 
"I remember. Nevertheless, I don't think Behari will be willing to go."
 
I was exasperated. "He is just eagerly waiting for this opportunity!"
 
My guru silently resumed his walk; I soon reached the schoolmaster's house. Behari, in the courtyard, greeted me with a friendly warmth that abruptly vanished as soon as I mentioned Kashmir. With a murmured word of apology, the servant left me and entered his employer's house. I waited half an hour, nervously assuring myself that Behari's delay was being caused by preparations for his trip. Finally I knocked at the front door.
 
"Behari left by the back stairs about thirty minutes ago," a man informed me. A slight smile hovered about his lips.
 
I departed sadly, wondering whether my invitation had been too coercive or whether Master's unseen influence were at work. Passing the Christian church, again I saw my guru walking slowly toward me. Without waiting to hear my report, he exclaimed:
 
"So Behari would not go! Now, what are your plans?"
 
I felt like a recalcitrant child who is determined to defy his masterful father. "Sir, I am going to ask my uncle to lend me his servant, Lal Dhari."
 
"See your uncle if you want to," Sri Yukteswar replied with a chuckle. "But I hardly think you will enjoy the visit."
 
Apprehensive but rebellious, I left my guru and entered Serampore Courthouse. My paternal uncle, Sarada Ghosh, a government attorney, welcomed me affectionately.
 
"I am leaving today with some friends for Kashmir," I told him. "For years I have been looking forward to this Himalayan trip."
 
"I am happy for you, Mukunda. Is there anything I can do to make your journey more comfortable?"
 
These kind words gave me a lift of encouragement. "Dear uncle," I said, "could you possibly spare me your servant, Lal Dhari?"
 
My simple request had the effect of an earthquake. Uncle jumped so violently that his chair overturned, the papers on the desk flew in every direction, and his pipe, a long, coconut-stemmed hubble-bubble, fell to the floor with a great clatter.
 
"You selfish young man," he shouted, quivering with wrath, "what a preposterous idea! Who will look after me, if you take my servant on one of your pleasure jaunts?"
 
I concealed m............