‘Young to hain. Sab kehte hain hum bahot young dikhte hain. Athara athara ghante dhyan mein rehte hain, uska kamaal hai. Tees saal se yoga kar rahe hain, uska chamatkaar hai (Young, that I am. Everyone says I look very young. I meditate for eighteen hours a day. That is the miracle. I have been doing yoga for the past thirty years. There is the magic).’

‘No, no. Andrew Young,’ he responded.

‘Mr Young, na? Jaanta hun unhe, purane bhakt hain, bahot purane. Unko mera pranaam dijiye. Andar baithiye. Abhi aata hoon. Bahot kaam sar par hain, aap dekh hi rahe ho (Oh, Mr Young? I know him. Old devotee, very old devotee. Give him my best wishes. Please go in and sit. I’ll join you in a moment. Much to take care of as you can see).’ The swami released Young’s arm. Young and the officer were ushered into a room adjacent to the auditorium. It took about three minutes for the swami to arrive. In spite of encountering a few Englishmen in his life, he had tried hard not to learn any English. A translator had long found a place among his faithful disciples.

‘Kya kar sakta hoon tumhare liye? (What can I do for you?)’

‘We are here because the professor referred us to you.’

‘Haan, woh jaante hain mujhe. Har koi mujhe jaanta hain. Hum sabhi bhaktoon ka uddhar karte hain. Bhagwan ne isiliye to itna diya hai (Yes, he knows me. Everybody knows me. I am here for the salvation of all devotees. This is why God has given me so much),’ said the swami.

‘We have some questions about paan.’

‘Paan! Tumhara matlab paaaan? (Paan! You mean paaaan?)’ the swami whispered to one of his disciples, ‘Baanke ke liye to nahin pooch rahe hain? (Is he asking for Baanke?)’ Then, turning to the officer he said, ‘Galti ho gayi, galti? Is baar kya gul khilaye hain Baanke ne? (Must be a mistake. Mistake? What did Baanke do this time?)’

‘He says you have the wrong person. He is not the paan vendor, his brother is; a small shop in the village. His brother’s name is Baanke,’ explained the translator.

‘Business, paan business,’ the swami corrected.

‘Yes, big business, in the village. He is very busy. He has no time for lunch. He has not come to Bombay for a long time. Not since—’ the translator stopped.

‘Sir, he says we have mistaken him for his brother,’ the officer told Young.

‘Why are you looking for him?’ the translator asked of his own volition.

‘Poocho, Baanke ko kaise jaante hain? Itna naam ho gaya? Gore bhi uska paan maang rahe hain, Bombay mein. Ya fir charas—? (Ask him how he knows Baanke. Has he become so popular that even the English are asking for his paan in Bombay? Or is it cannabis—?)’ the swami asked the translator.