ARRIVAL: S. S. Cohen Meets the Maharshi
The third of February 1936, early morning, saw my horse- cart rolling on the uneven two-and-a-half-mile road from Tiruvannamalai railway station to Ramanashram. Two sleepless nights in the train from Bombay found me tired in body and mind. My head was swimming and my senses were confused. I had hoped for some rest in the Ashram, but when I arrived there at last, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Presently, a corpulent man with a giant rugged head and scarlet-red lips from perpetual chewing of betel-nuts appeared. He was, I later discovered, "the legal adviser" of the Ashram, who sometimes acted as the de facto sarvadhikari (manager) as well. "Is that Mr. Cohen? Follow me quickly before the Maharshi goes out for his walk," he called out. I obeyed, extremely eager to see the great Sage, who had haunted me night and day for three long months. I was led to a small dining room, at the door of which I was asked to remove my shoes. As I was trying to unlace them, m