This Monk From India - The Divine Life Society

THE POWER THAT PROTECTS
involuntary Pranayama undulated through my body and a loud voice came out of me. It was such a
strong, calm voice. It sounded like a man’s voice. It had such a strange quality about it. “Help!
Help! Help!” The man just turned back and went swiftly out. I walked behind him to the window
and saw him go by the fire escape into the window of the room opposite where the noise was still
going on. I put my head out of the window and again this strange voice of mine shouted “Help!
Help! Help!” It made a tremendous echo in the yard. My voice was like thunder, but no one moved.
I locked the window, and opening my door, shouted again down the long corridor “Help! Help!”
But everything was silent. So I came back into my room, closed and locked the door. I put on a
dressing gown. Sustained by a mysterious strength, I was calm, taking time to fasten all the buttons.
I took my clothes on my arm but left my shoes behind as they were hurting me. I locked the door
behind me and walked to the lift.
Down at the reception area I told my story. The lady receptionist laughed.
“Well, you are a funny one. You say all that so calmly. How could a man come in through
your window You are on the seventh floor, aren’t you”
I answered, “Yes. But he came in through the fire-escape.”
The black night-watchman was in the office close to the desk. He was listening. He asked,
“He was a short fellow, wasn’t he”
“Oh no, a very slim, tall man!”
“You say you saw him going into the room opposite. Now if you come with me, we will be
able to catch him, you are the only one who can identify him.”
I said, “But he was all black. I could not distinguish his features.”
The man insisted. “Now, how can we establish order if people refuse to cooperate Come
with me.”
I walked to the lift with him. Until then I had been speaking in a flat, calm, impersonal voice,
my eyes down as if in a trance. Once in the lift, I looked up. The man’s face was all horror, nothing
human seemed to be left in it. The yellow eyes in his black face were dead. I seemed to wake up
from my trance. I knew I should not have come. But I was calm and keenly alert. When the lift
stopped, I let the man go out first and walked behind him one step, then quickly I was back in the lift
alone and pressed the button. I wondered if he could stop the lift half way when he realised that I
was not following him, so I kept my finger on the button until I was on the ground floor again. I was
now very vigilant, very alert. I decided to spend the rest of the night near the reception desk and in
front of the big glass door where I could be seen from the street. People came in, strange people. In a
few hours I saw a lot of the underworld of New York. The night-watchman kept insisting that I
should go and dress properly in my room, but I knew it was the last thing I should do. As his
insistence grew, I asked for the key of the cloakroom nearby. He led me to cloakroom around a
corner of the corridor, but as he opened the door, in the mirror opposite, I saw him turn round and
nod his head to a tall, slim black man. I saw only the top of the black man’s body. He had on
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