Fifteen years ago, I came to Chicago in June to go to school for three months, and I became a disciple a few days after my arrival. I was sharing an apartment with a girlfriend from Michigan and her husband. I liked Chicago but didn't have any definitive plans to stay there after the semester ended. In August, about a week before the semester ended, my friend's husband and I got into an argument, and it had the effect of making me want to leave Chicago. It was as if a cloud came over the whole city and I couldn't distinguish between discontent with my living situation and the whole city of Chicago. I decided that as soon as I finished my semester, I was going to go back to Michigan to live in a nice small town like Ann Arbor. I was quite fond of everyone in the Chicago Centre, so I decided not to tell anyone my plans. I was sure they would try to talk me out of leaving. Besides, they would soon be going to New York for August Celebrations. I could just quietly move away and let them know later. I had every intention of remaining a disciple, but I was too new to realise that living on your own without the support of a Centre is not a good idea. The only problem with my plan was that every time I meditated, I would have a strong feeling that I would miss the Chicago Centre and that perhaps I shouldn't leave. One day while I was meditating, I made a deal with Guru's Transcendental picture. I said, "Okay, maybe you are telling me I shouldn't move back to Michigan, but I am not sure. I promise that if Guru tells me outwardly that I should stay in Chicago, I will stay, even though I don't want to. If he tells me outwardly, I won't be able to doubt it. However, I am not going to ask outwardly. I am only asking inwardly." As a very new disciple, I hadn't come to see Guru yet. My only connection was with his Transcendental photo. I vaguely knew there was this guy in New York who would ask Guru a question for you, but I didn't know him. I also thought it was a fair deal. I would ask inwardly and Guru would respond outwardly if I were to stay. I wasn't fully conscious that this deal was slanted in favour of my returning to Michigan. I came to the last Centre meditation before everyone went to Celebrations, and after the meditation, I started talking to another girl about hiking and other outdoor activities. From this, somehow the conversation led to living in the city as opposed to rural areas, and before I realised it, I had told her that I was thinking of going back to Michigan. I didn't think too much of it though, because she was not going to New York, and the others were leaving the next day. She only came to the Centre once a week, and I didn't think she would say anything to anyone. I was wrong. She told Sukantika that I might be going back to Michigan. Sukantika told Pradhan. Pradhan told Guru. I didn't know any of this had happened, but a few days later I came back from school and my girlfriend told me Pradhan had called me from New York. She said I should call him back because he had a message from Guru for me. I was surprised, but I called and found out that Guru said I should stay in Chicago. He also said that I should ask his advice if I am planning to make a big change in my life. I was a bit shocked, but I had made a deal and now I had to stick to it. Amazingly though, all the bad feelings about living in Chicago left me. In fact, I started feeling like it was really a great place, and soon I moved into an apartment with another disciple. From this experience, I gained a lot of faith in Guru's Transcendental photograph.

Suchaturi (New York)

Before I became a disciple, I attended the weekly public meditation on Wednesday and I ran the "Runners Are Smilers" two-mile race every Saturday— religiously. That went on for a few years. In those days "Runners Are Smilers" was held in Flushing Meadow Park, and I went there by train. The race started at 8:00 a.m. sharp, and it was never cancelled—never. One Saturday when Guru was away on the Christmas trip, I hurried out the door, and as I entered the subway I noticed it had begun to snow. By the time I got to Roosevelt Avenue, the snow was heavy—a blizzard. By the time the train pulled into Shea Stadium, I couldn't see my hand at arm's length for the snow. Luckily I knew my way to the starting line and I trudged blindly through the snow. I had read recently in one of Guru's books about his emanations and inner beings and how he protects his disciple children, and I took some courage in that. As I approached the starting line—about 3 or 4 minutes before the race was scheduled to begin—the Marathon Team car emerged out of the snow. No cancellation. No one else in sight. Sahishnu rolled down the window and I paid the one-dollar entry fee. I didn't know very many disciples back then, but as far as I was concerned, Sahishnu was the incarnation of dharma and the master of understatement. I said, "I guess I'll be running alone today." He said, "Guess so." I stood there wondering how I would even stay on the course. As always, just before starting the race, there was a moment of silence and in that moment there appeared, unbelievably, on my right side, another runner. I could barely see him—only the profile of a figure—and then the race began. I followed that runner and he stayed just ahead of me. At the end of the two miles, he was gone—disappeared into the snow. I was amazed and also curious about who that phantom runner could be. When I collected my medal after the race, I asked Sahishnu, "Who was that runner?" "Never saw him before in my life," Sahishnu said.

Saudamini (New York)

The first time I went to what used to be known as the Aum Centre in Miramar, Puerto Rico, was in June of 1968. I went continuously for about 3 months, but at that time I considered myself to be a disciple of another spiritual Master. After some time, I felt that I was being unfaithful to him, so I stopped coming. A few months later, I also stopped coming to that other guru's group, to devote myself to the "hippie path". I used to have recurring dreams about "this man" who would just observe me at times and at other times simply smiled. I do not recall having any conversations with him. All I remember was that he was very special, very divine, and his presence brought great comfort, reassurance and joy. In my wakeful state I would also see him at times in quick flashes and at other times for possibly a full minute. He was always observing or smiling sweetly. Then he disappeared into thin air. It came to the point where I would look for him everywhere, even in my dreams. In September 1969, one of the Puerto Rican disciples came to a festival organised by a group of my friends. She had with her a small Transcendental photograph. Somehow she managed to gather a large group of us and caught our complete attention. She spoke briefly and straight to the point. Holding Guru's picture in one hand, she said, "This is my Guru, Sri Chinmoy. He is lecturing in Japan, and he will be back to the Island (meaning Puerto Rico) in December—and he is looking for young disciples." The following Sunday morning, a large group of about 40 to 50 seeker-hippies invaded the Centre. When I saw Guru's picture at that time, I knew this was an old friend, someone whom I had known all my life and was finally going to meet once again. I did not make the connection with my dreams yet; I just knew that I wanted the "high" in that godly face on that photograph and that it made me very happy. Toward the end of December 1969, Guru visited the Island. Our first meeting with him was on a bright Sunday morning. After a very powerful meditation, Guru spoke very beautifully and very convincingly. Among the things he said to us was that he was the "high" we had been looking for: "I am your highest consciousness." Then he invited us to introduce ourselves to him. I used to wear a laminated Transcendental photograph around my neck so that the picture actually fell over my heart chakra. When my turn came and I stood up, before I could even open my mouth, Guru said with great excitement, pointing towards his own heart, "You've got me here! You've got me here! I have been calling you for a year. Your guru brought you to me." I realised at that moment that Guru was the Real Thing. I also realised that Guru was my Guru and that I was his forever.

Sevananda (Puerto Rico)