‘If you were to marry that man, think of the children you would have.’ It was a subtle way of telling me that I too must seek out someone beautiful, a man who would be worthy of me, for I was very special. I felt myself elevated, carried on a cushion through life. My body, my face were delicate. My mother did not want me to know the world yet. She had married, brought forth children, prepared me for marriage and childbirth, and yet she kept me back from marriage. I began to observe closely the faces of saints. Saintly men. Their faces had that look of absolute beauty—Clear, unflawed. They retained all that wisdom, energy, sight, strength and vitality which the Laws of Manu speak of because they did not squander that precious essence, that vital substance within them. If you look at the faces of saints you see that they look forever young, their faces unsullied by all those creases of anxiety that appear on ours …

The Dream of the White Horse

My sister and I would watch this young man as he swam every evening in the sea. He would swim out until he reached the rock that jutted out like a pinnacle and touch it. One night I dreamed that I was on the shore. I looked out, waiting, watching expectantly. Out of the spume and spray, a white horse appeared, riding the great foaming waves. It reached the shore and then out of it—for it was like the Trojan horse to me—stepped the figure of Jesus Christ in flowing white garments. The young man whom I had seen swimming in the ocean flung a garland of white jasmines round Christ’s neck. I felt that there must be some deep significance in this dream for me, that the sea, the white crested waves, the white horse, the vision of Christ and the young man with his garland of jasmines had a message for me.