Baba was in New York to give initiation in Kriya Yoga. It was a crisp early morning, all the people were sitting quietly in the spacious room, with their offerings of flowers, fruits and little financial donation nicely arranged in front of them. Everything and everybody looked pure, fresh and loving, and Baba was about to start the holy ceremony.
Suddenly a man burst into the room, and mumbling a vague apology for his tardiness, plunked himself down in the first row directly in front of Baba. A wave of repulsion spread slowly across the room. The man was smelly, dirty, unkempt, and he had not brought the proper offerings. On a dirty paper plate he hastily threw a few wilted flowers (which he had probably snatched from the park across the street), five black, rotten bananas (from God knows where!), and his pocket change.
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