I cannot remember the exact words, but the circumstances of more than half a century ago remain crystal clear in my mind's eye.
My parents, three sisters, and I were out on a drive. We headed South of our home in to the cantonment area of Bombay, as the city was called in the 1950s.
My eldest sister, who not only loves dogs, but who has also imposed her will in this respect on her younger siblings, saw a dog wandering on the road, in the vicinity of the RC Afghan Church.
She demanded of my father that we stop and check on the dog. He had a collar that proved he was not a stray. My eldest sister decided that he must be lost, and that all of us should try and find his family.
Bozo, so named as I found later, knew his way around. He trotted in to a cottage diagonally opposite the Church. We followed him just to make sure that he was not lost.
Pitaji, as we address our Guru, was seated at the far corner of the drawing-room of the cottage. He was seated in a lotus pose, with just a saffron loin cloth.
This miraculous event started a Spiritual journey without end.
The family who occupied the cottage were Bengalis like us. We became friends. The cottage has been replaced by a large building. I have lost touch with the family. However, I remain in constant communion with Pitaji, though he left his mortal form in 1966.
Advaita with all its ramifications abide as Pitaji's cardinal teaching.
