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Autobiography Of A Yogi Free

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It's a book about masters of yoga (Yogananda called them 'yogi-Christs') written by someone who was himself a master of yoga. It talks about miracles, the yogic teachings, and the teachings of Jesus Christ in a relatively modern way, and in a way that is easy to understand, even entertaining. Autobiography of a Yogi presents a fascinating portrait of one of the great spiritual figures of our time: Paramahansa Yogananda. It is at once a beautifully written account of an exceptional life and a profound introduction to the ancient science of Yoga and its time-honored tradition of meditation. His subtle dramatization captures the charm of Paramahansa Yogananda’s many colourful anecdotes, bringing to vivid life the author’s rich tapestry of people, experiences, and events, and his illuminating explorations of life’s ultimate mysteries. This audiobook edition is unabridged mp3 available for free download.

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Autobiography of a Yogi. More goodies for your reading pleasure today! This is the Public Domain version of Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda – it is the original 1946 version formatted as pdf e-book. This e-book has been described as a spiritual treasure and the first glance for thousands of westerners into the mysteries of the East. Rarely does a sage of Paramhansa Yogananda’s stature write a first-hand account of his life experiences. This spiritual classic has been translated to more than 25 languages and it has been read by millions. Followers of many religious traditions have come to recognize Autobiography of a Yogi as a masterpiece of spiritual literature. Yet, for all its depth, it is full of gentle humor, lively stories, and practical common sense.

This spiritual classic has been translated to more than 25 languages and it has been read by millions. Followers of many religious traditions have come to recognize Autobiography of a Yogi as a masterpiece of spiritual literature.
Edition: First edition

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Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

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Autobiography of a Yogiby Paramahansa Yogananda
Chapter 5

Chapter 5: A 'Perfume Saint' Performs his Wonders[edit]

A 'PERFUME SAINT' DISPLAYS HIS WONDERS

'To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purposeunder the heaven.'

I did not have this wisdom of Solomon to comfort me; I gazedsearchingly about me, on any excursion from home, for the face ofmy destined guru. But my path did not cross his own until afterthe completion of my high school studies.

Two years elapsed between my flight with Amar toward the Himalayas,and the great day of Sri Yukteswar's arrival into my life. Duringthat interim I met a number of sages-the 'Perfume Saint,' the 'TigerSwami,' Nagendra Nath Bhaduri, Master Mahasaya, and the famousBengali scientist, Jagadis Chandra Bose.

My encounter with the 'Perfume Saint' had two preambles, oneharmonious and the other humorous.

'God is simple. Everything else is complex. Do not seek absolutevalues in the relative world of nature.'

These philosophical finalities gently entered my ear as I stoodsilently before a temple image of Kali. Turning, I confronted atall man whose garb, or lack of it, revealed him a wandering SADHU.

'You have indeed penetrated the bewilderment of my thoughts!' Ismiled gratefully. 'The confusion of benign and terrible aspectsin nature, as symbolized by Kali, {FN5-1} has puzzled wiser headsthan mine!'

'Few there be who solve her mystery! Good and evil is the challengingriddle which life places sphinxlike before every intelligence.Attempting no solution, most men pay forfeit with their lives,penalty now even as in the days of Thebes. Here and there, a toweringlonely figure never cries defeat. From the MAYA {FN5-2} of dualityhe plucks the cleaveless truth of unity.'

'You speak with conviction, sir.'

'I have long exercised an honest introspection, the exquisitelypainful approach to wisdom. Self-scrutiny, relentless observance ofone's thoughts, is a stark and shattering experience. It pulverizesthe stoutest ego. But true self-analysis mathematically operatesto produce seers. The way of 'self-expression,' individualacknowledgments, results in egotists, sure of the right to theirprivate interpretations of God and the universe.'

Autobiography of a Yogi/Chapter 5 - Wikisource, the free ..

'Truth humbly retires, no doubt, before such arrogant originality.'I was enjoying the discussion.

'Man can understand no eternal verity until he has freed himselffrom pretensions. The human mind, bared to a centuried slime, isteeming with repulsive life of countless world-delusions. Strugglesof the battlefields pale into insignificance here, when man firstcontends with inward enemies! No mortal foes these, to be overcomeby harrowing array of might! Omnipresent, unresting, pursuing maneven in sleep, subtly equipped with a miasmic weapon, these soldiersof ignorant lusts seek to slay us all. Thoughtless is the man whoburies his ideals, surrendering to the common fate. Can he seemother than impotent, wooden, ignominious?'

'Respected Sir, have you no sympathy for the bewildered masses?'

The sage was silent for a moment, then answered obliquely.

'To love both the invisible God, Repository of All Virtues, andvisible man, apparently possessed of none, is often baffling! Butingenuity is equal to the maze. Inner research soon exposes a unityin all human minds-the stalwart kinship of selfish motive. In onesense at least, the brotherhood of man stands revealed. An aghasthumility follows this leveling discovery. It ripens into compassionfor one's fellows, blind to the healing potencies of the soulawaiting exploration.'

'The saints of every age, sir, have felt like yourself for thesorrows of the world.'

'Only the shallow man loses responsiveness to the woes of others'lives, as he sinks into narrow suffering of his own.' The SADHU'Saustere face was noticeably softened. 'The one who practices ascalpel self-dissection will know an expansion of universal pity.Release is given him from the deafening demands of his ego. Thelove of God flowers on such soil. The creature finally turns tohis Creator, if for no other reason than to ask in anguish: 'Why,Lord, why?' By ignoble whips of pain, man is driven at last intothe Infinite Presence, whose beauty alone should lure him.'

The sage and I were present in Calcutta's Kalighat Temple, whitherI had gone to view its famed magnificence. With a sweeping gesture,my chance companion dismissed the ornate dignity.

'Bricks and mortar sing us no audible tune; the heart opens onlyto the human chant of being.'

We strolled to the inviting sunshine at the entrance, where throngsof devotees were passing to and fro.

'You are young.' The sage surveyed me thoughtfully. 'India too isyoung. The ancient RISHIS {FN5-3} laid down ineradicable patternsof spiritual living. Their hoary dictums suffice for this dayand land. Not outmoded, not unsophisticated against the guilesof materialism, the disciplinary precepts mold India still. Bymillenniums-more than embarrassed scholars care to compute!-theskeptic Time has validated Vedic worth. Take it for your heritage.'

As I was reverently bidding farewell to the eloquent SADHU, herevealed a clairvoyant perception:

'After you leave here today, an unusual experience will come yourway.'

I quitted the temple precincts and wandered along aimlessly. Turninga corner, I ran into an old acquaintance-one of those long-windedfellows whose conversational powers ignore time and embrace eternity.

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'I will let you go in a very short while, if you will tell me allthat has happened during the six years of our separation.'

'What a paradox! I must leave you now.'

But he held me by the hand, forcing out tidbits of information.He was like a ravenous wolf, I thought in amusement; the longer Ispoke, the more hungrily he sniffed for news. Inwardly I petitionedthe Goddess Kali to devise a graceful means of escape.

My companion left me abruptly. I sighed with relief and doubled mypace, dreading any relapse into the garrulous fever. Hearing rapidfootsteps behind me, I quickened my speed. I dared not look back.But with a bound, the youth rejoined me, jovially clasping myshoulder.

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'I forgot to tell you of Gandha Baba (Perfume Saint), who is gracingyonder house.' He pointed to a dwelling a few yards distant. 'Domeet him; he is interesting. You may have an unusual experience.Good-by,' and he actually left me.

The similarly worded prediction of the SADHU at Kalighat Templeflashed to my mind. Definitely intrigued, I entered the house andwas ushered into a commodious parlor. A crowd of people were sitting,Orient-wise, here and there on a thick orange-colored carpet. Anawed whisper reached my ear:

'Behold Gandha Baba on the leopard skin. He can give the naturalperfume of any flower to a scentless one, or revive a wilted blossom,or make a person's skin exude delightful fragrance.'

I looked directly at the saint; his quick gaze rested on mine. Hewas plump and bearded, with dark skin and large, gleaming eyes.

'Son, I am glad to see you. Say what you want. Would you like someperfume?'

'What for?' I thought his remark rather childish.

'To experience the miraculous way of enjoying perfumes.'

'Harnessing God to make odors?'

'What of it? God makes perfume anyway.'

'Yes, but He fashions frail bottles of petals for fresh use anddiscard. Can you materialize flowers?'

'I materialize perfumes, little friend.'

'Then scent factories will go out of business.'

'I will permit them to keep their trade! My own purpose is todemonstrate the power of God.'

'Sir, is it necessary to prove God? Isn't He performing miraclesin everything, everywhere?'

'Yes, but we too should manifest some of His infinite creativevariety.'

'How long did it take to master your art?'

'Twelve years.'

'For manufacturing scents by astral means! It seems, my honoredsaint, you have been wasting a dozen years for fragrances whichyou can obtain with a few rupees from a florist's shop.'

'Perfumes fade with flowers.'

'Perfumes fade with death. Why should I desire that which pleasesthe body only?'

'Mr. Philosopher, you please my mind. Now, stretch forth your righthand.' He made a gesture of blessing.

I was a few feet away from Gandha Baba; no one else was nearenough to contact my body. I extended my hand, which the yogi didnot touch.

'What perfume do you want?'

'Rose.'

'Be it so.'

To my great surprise, the charming fragrance of rose was waftedstrongly from the center of my palm. I smilingly took a large whitescentless flower from a near-by vase.

'Can this odorless blossom be permeated with jasmine?'

'Be it so.'

A jasmine fragrance instantly shot from the petals. I thanked thewonder-worker and seated myself by one of his students. He informedme that Gandha Baba, whose proper name was Vishudhananda, hadlearned many astonishing yoga secrets from a master in Tibet. TheTibetan yogi, I was assured, had attained the age of over a thousandyears.

'His disciple Gandha Baba does not always perform his perfume-featsin the simple verbal manner you have just witnessed.' The studentspoke with obvious pride in his master. 'His procedure differswidely, to accord with diversity in temperaments. He is marvelous!Many members of the Calcutta intelligentsia are among his followers.'

I inwardly resolved not to add myself to their number. A guru tooliterally 'marvelous' was not to my liking. With polite thanks toGandha Baba, I departed. Sauntering home, I reflected on the threevaried encounters the day had brought forth.

My sister Uma met me as I entered our Gurpar Road door.

'You are getting quite stylish, using perfumes!'

Without a word, I motioned her to smell my hand.

'What an attractive rose fragrance! It is unusually strong!'

Thinking it was 'strongly unusual,' I silently placed the astrallyscented blossom under her nostrils.

'Oh, I love jasmine!' She seized the flower. A ludicrous bafflementpassed over her face as she repeatedly sniffed the odor of jasminefrom a type of flower she well knew to be scentless. Her reactionsdisarmed my suspicion that Gandha Baba had induced an auto-suggestivestate whereby I alone could detect the fragrances.

Finding photos with flickr. Later I heard from a friend, Alakananda, that the 'Perfume Saint'had a power which I wish were possessed by the starving millionsof Asia and, today, of Europe as well.

'I was present with a hundred other guests at Gandha Baba's homein Burdwan,' Alakananda told me. 'It was a gala occasion. Becausethe yogi was reputed to have the power of extracting objectsout of thin air, I laughingly requested him to materialize someout-of-season tangerines. Immediately the LUCHIS {FN5-4} whichwere present on all the banana-leaf plates became puffed up. Eachof the bread-envelopes proved to contain a peeled tangerine. I bitinto my own with some trepidation, but found it delicious.'

Years later I understood by inner realization how Gandha Babaaccomplished his materializations. The method, alas! is beyond thereach of the world's hungry hordes.

Autobiography Of A Yogi Free Pdf

The different sensory stimuli to which man reacts-tactual, visual,gustatory, auditory, and olfactory-are produced by vibratoryvariations in electrons and protons. The vibrations in turn areregulated by 'lifetrons,' subtle life forces or finer-than-atomicenergies intelligently charged with the five distinctive sensoryidea-substances.

Gandha Baba, tuning himself with the cosmic force by certain yogicpractices, was able to guide the lifetrons to rearrange theirvibratory structure and objectivize the desired result. His perfume,fruit and other miracles were actual materializations of mundanevibrations, and not inner sensations hypnotically produced. {FN5-5}

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Performances of miracles such as shown by the 'Perfume Saint' arespectacular but spiritually useless. Having little purpose beyondentertainment, they are digressions from a serious search for God.

Hypnotism has been used by physicians in minor operations as a sortof psychical chloroform for persons who might be endangered by ananesthetic. But a hypnotic state is harmful to those often subjected toit; a negative psychological effect ensues which in time derangesthe brain cells. Hypnotism is trespass into the territory ofanother's consciousness. Its temporary phenomena have nothing incommon with the miracles performed by men of divine realization.Awake in God, true saints effect changes in this dream-world bymeans of a will harmoniously attuned to the Creative Cosmic Dreamer.

Ostentatious display of unusual powers are decried by masters. ThePersian mystic, Abu Said, once laughed at certain FAKIRS who wereproud of their miraculous powers over water, air, and space.

'A frog is also at home in the water!' Abu Said pointed out in gentlescorn. 'The crow and the vulture easily fly in the air; the Devilis simultaneously present in the East and in the West! A true manis he who dwells in righteousness among his fellow men, who buysand sells, yet is never for a single instant forgetful of God!'On another occasion the great Persian teacher gave his views onthe religious life thus: 'To lay aside what you have in your head(selfish desires and ambitions); to freely bestow what you have inyour hand; and never to flinch from the blows of adversity!'

Neither the impartial sage at Kalighat Temple nor the Tibetan-trainedyogi had satisfied my yearning for a guru. My heart needed notutor for its recognitions, and cried its own 'Bravos!' the moreresoundingly because un-often summoned from silence. When I finallymet my master, he taught me by sublimity of example alone themeasure of a true man.

Endnotes[edit]

{FN5-1} Kali represents the eternal principle in nature. She is traditionally pictured as a four-armed woman, standing on the form of the God Shiva or the Infinite, because nature or the phenomenal world is rooted in the Noumenon. The four arms symbolize cardinal attributes, two beneficent, two destructive, indicating the essential duality of matter or creation.
{FN5-2} Cosmic illusion; literally, 'the measurer.' MAYA is the magical power in creation by which limitations and divisions are apparently present in the Immeasurable and Inseparable. Emerson wrote the following poem, to which he gave the title of MAYA:

Illusion works impenetrable,
Weaving webs innumerable,
Her gay pictures never fail,
Crowd each other, veil on veil,
Charmer who will be believed
By man who thirsts to be deceived.


{FN5-3} The RISHIS, literally 'seers,' were the authors of the VEDAS in an indeterminable antiquity.
{FN5-4} Flat, round Indian bread.
{FN5-5} Laymen scarcely realize the vast strides of twentieth-century science. Transmutation of metals and other alchemical dreams are seeing fulfillment every day in centers of scientific research over the world. The eminent French chemist, M. Georges Claude, performed 'miracles' at Fontainebleau in 1928 before a scientific assemblage through his chemical knowledge of oxygen transformations. His 'magician's wand' was simple oxygen, bubbling in a tube on a table. The scientist 'turned a handful of sand into precious stones, iron into a state resembling melted chocolate and, after depriving flowers of their tints, turned them into the consistency of glass.

'M. Claude explained how the sea could be turned by oxygen transformations into many millions of pounds of horsepower; how water which boils is not necessarily burning; how little mounds of sand, by a single whiff of the oxygen blowpipe, could be changed into sapphires, rubies, and topazes; and he predicted the time when it will be possible for men to walk on the bottom of the ocean minus the diver's equipment. Finally the scientist amazed his onlookers by turning their faces black by taking the red out of the sun's rays.'
This noted French scientist has produced liquid air by an expansion method in which he has been able to separate the various gases of the air, and has discovered various means of mechanical utilization of differences of temperature in sea water.
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