Death Of A Guru: A Remarkable True Story Of One Man’s Search For Truth

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Rabi R. Maharaj came from a long line of Brahmin priests and gurus and trained as a yogi. He meditated for many hours each day, but gradually disillusionment set in. He describes Hindu life and custom, vividly and honestly tracing his difficult search for meaning and his struggle to choose between Hinduism and Christianity. At a time when Eastern mysticism, religion, and philosophy fascinate many in the West, Maharaj offers fresh and important insights from the perspective of his own experience. “A unique revelation of the inward struggles of a Hindu and the ultimate triumph over death that he discovered. I found it challenging and inspiring. Must reading.”―Hal Lindsey

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Wonderful, copyright 1924. Renewed 1952 by Lillenas Publishing Co. Used by permission. In order to help preserve the privacy and well-being of persons mentioned in this book, the names of some individuals and places have been changed. DEATH OF A GURU Copyright © 1977, 1984 by Rabindranath R. Maharaj Published by Harvest House Publishers Eugene, Oregon 97402 (Formerly published under the title Escape into the Light) Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 84-81212 ISBN 0-89081-434-1 All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the Publisher. Printed in the United States of America. This book is dedicated to you, the reader. [\DP—‘D—‘P—‘b—‘r—‘b—‘b—‘H r—‘H 99090993919995? HPSDQ‘DflFnP‘PP‘DNE“ Contents Prologue A Brahmin’s Roots Death of an Avatar Ashes on the Ganges Karma and Destiny Pundit Ji Young Guru Shiva and I Holy Cow! Rich Man, Poor Man The Unknown God “And That Thou Art!” Guru Puja Karma and Grace Enlightenment! Death of a Guru A New Beginning Reunion and Farewell Where East Meets West Dying We Live New Life EPILOGUE GLOSSARY 13 25 32 45 55 66 72 81 86 94 97 103 112 118 122 135 148 156 166 176 Prologue It could hardly be said that my arrest on that blustery morn- ing in November 1975, as I sought to cross the border from Pakistan into India, came as a complete surprise. The risk had been well understood, but my mission was of such importance that hesitation was unthinkable. And now it would do no good to worry over what could turn out to be just a short delay . . . or the inevitable that I had half-feared. I had been told to wait outside while my papers were being examined. During the ten minutes that I paced slowly back and forth in front of the austere border station under the cool gaze of several guards, I began to suspect what was coming. The longer I waited the more certain I became. Preoccupied with my thoughts, I hardly noticed the officer approach me. “You are Rabindranath Maharaj?” he asked, comparing the photograph on my passport with my bearded features. Why the beard? he seemed to be thinking. Or perhaps it was, Of course, a beard! “Yes, I am.” I smiled pleasantly. It was a natural reaction, one which my friends expected and often commented upon. Yes, Rabi was such an amiable fellow. Even at a time like this, I thought. But I wasn’t smiling inside. “Come with me!” He turned abruptly and motioned for me to follow. Inside the low frame building I was ordered into a back room, where several other uniformed officials with grim expressions awaited me. It was there, away from the eyes of the few tourists who were passing the border with little de- lay in both directions, that I heard those chilling though half-expected words, “You are under arrest!” As though for the first time I became aware of how cold and hard the re- volvers looked