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from everyone thinks that a man's duty is to work in the world,
with others, you know, make it a better place and all that?'
This definitely amused him. 'Is it so?' he repeated.
'They'd say you were escaping responsibilities, you know -
running away.'
'There are many tasks in this world,' he suddenly said, his voice
calmer now. 'Many jobs that must be done by those who God wishes
to do them.'
He went on to say, without once mentioning himself, that
negative forces clustered around people in important positions, such
as political leaders, and it was vital that they be protected from such
negative forces while doing their jobs, otherwise wars and
catastrophes would result. I gleaned from this that Yogi
Ramsuratkumar's job was to build auras of protection around such
people by exerting some sort of influence to ensure that positive
forces determined major events.
This struck me as an important job. It also struck me as absurd.
Did it exist beyond his imagination? And if it did exist, why wasn't
it very successful - considering the number of wars and catastrophes
that were happening even as we spoke? I couldn't trap him like this,
however, since he never referred to himself as anything but a beggar,
a vehicle for God's inscrutable will. Who knew how much worse
things might have been without whatever it was he did, after all?
'There was a great teacher,' was about all he'd say regarding the
past. 'The teacher took this beggar and made him function for the
will of God. Just as a broken automobile can be repaired so the
driver can drive it again. Is it true? The driver must drive, yes? So
his automobile should function? A broken automobile is of no use
to anyone - is it not so?'
I agreed. He wouldn't say who the 'great teacher' was. I asked
how one built an 'aura of protection.' He laughed once more, tickled
to death. At least, I thought, I'm providing the evening's
entertainment.
Without warning, he swatted a fly on the bare counter of the
vacant stall with his powerful hand. He picked the creature up by a
wing and gave it to me. I tentatively accepted it, trying to appear
grateful, and examined the insect in the palm of my hand to see if
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