Sleep was inconsiderable that night; I prayed deeply to be directed to the secret yogi, Ram Gopal.
As the first streaks of dawn penetrated the fissures of my dark room, I set out for Ranbajpur. Crossing rough paddy fields, I trudged over sickled stumps of the prickly plant and mounds of dried clay. An occasionally-met peasant would inform me, invariably, that my destination was “only a KROSHA (two miles).” In six hours
Sleep was inconsiderable that night; I prayed deeply to be directed to the secret yogi, Ram Gopal.
As the first streaks of dawn penetrated the fissures of my dark room, I set out for Ranbajpur. Crossing rough paddy fields, I trudged over sickled stumps of the prickly plant and mounds of dried clay. An occasionally-met peasant would inform me, invariably, that my destination was “only a KROSHA (two miles).” In six hours
