The sage's eyes twinkled. My rule of seclusion is not for my own comfort, but for that of others. Worldly people do not like the candor which shatters their delusions. Saints are not only rare but disconcerting. I followed Bhaduri Mahasaya to his austere quarters on the top floor, from which he seldom stirred.
Masters often ignore the panorama of the world's ado, out of focus till centered in the ages.
The contemporaries of a sage are not alone those of the narrow present. The sage locked his vibrant body in the lotus posture. In his seventies, he displayed no unpleasing signs of age or sedentary life. Stalwart and straight, he was ideal in every respect. His face was that of a rishi, as described in the ancient texts.