| Sri Prahlad Chandra
        Brahmachari was born in the remote village of Purushottampur in Orrisa province
        of India. The family was very poor and had to endure much hardship. In his boyhood he had
        to go out and beg, not just for himself but for the whole family. In his teens the young
        Prahlad was sent by his father to work at the house of a wealthy man as
          a servant. It was some distance from home. At that place one day he
          was walking along the river with the children of the house. Some
          sweets were with them. Prahlad gave sweets to the children and ate
          some himself. The woman of the house saw this incident and reported it
          to her husband, who then gave Prahlad a severe beating. In despair he ran away from
          that place, traveling without ticket, to the station at Waltair where the
        ticket taker found him and threw him off the train. After a while
          of begging for food in that town a kindly person told him he whe would do
          much better to go up to
        up the nearby mountain where he would find lots of fruits growing. And
          since it was a place where many sadhus, or holy men, stayed he could
          collect wood for them for their sacred fire ceremonies and they would share
        their food with him. It was a holy place near a temple of Nri Singha,
          the god who was half man, half lion.  
                Baba said: "You have to climb up the stones one by
        one. It was very treacherous. If you fell down from there it was certain death. With great
        struggle I went up and I saw a flat land. There were many fruit trees and an image of
        Nrisingha. I had darshan." 
                 Baba
        stayed in the forest near the temple of Nri Singha. (Coincidentally, it
        was at this place in olden times where a boy saint, also named "Prahlad," had done
        austerities for the realization of God).  
                One night there in the deep
        jungle he had an
        encounter one night with a mysterious personage whom he ever after
        referred to simply "my
        guru." He had awakened in the night with a terrible nightmare that his parents had
        died and he had not been able to be there. He believed the dream to be
        the reality and was crying and sobbing in sorrow and despair. Then the man appeared out of the jungle. 
                He described the man as being
          huge, a giant of a man, incredibly tall and wearing nothing but a loincloth and a bag
          over his shoulder in the manner of a sadhu. The man asked Prahlad
          "Why are you crying?" 
                Prahlad replied "Because
          my mother and father have died and I could not be with them before
          they died." 
                The great man comforted the
          boy and assured him that this had been only a dream, and that he
          should go back to his parents and he would find that they were
          alright. Baba relates what happened next  in his own
          words: 
                "There was an ordinary bag on his shoulder. From that
        bag he gave me 25 rupees. To me it seemed that I gotten a great amount of wealth! I was
        very poor. I had never gotten any money. Twenty-five rupees! Hari Baba! Getting that money
        I felt like a rich man. 
                "He said in Oriya: 'Get a ticket at Waltair
        station with this money and go to Jajpur.'  
                 
        "I was so happy. He turned to leave and had gone two or three steps when I said,
        'Thakur, Oh Thakur!
        Won't my life ever amount to anything?'  
                 
        "Then suddenly he stopped and turned around... his image... it is beyond
        description!
        I cannot describe him in words. He came running back and got some leaves from the forest.
        And pulling out my tongue, he pressed the leaves and cut my tongue down the middle. When
        he was pulling my tongue I felt like my life was going. 'Oh! I am dying! I am dying!'  
                 
        "Then when he gave the juice, as soon as he gave the juice it felt as sweet as honey.
        If there is such honey in God's world I have never found it. Getting that sweet honey my
        hairs stood on end. What peace my body received! 
                 
        "Then that great man put his hand on my head and said: 'Through you a great work
        will be done. Go. Go back to your place. A lot of work will be done through you.'
        He did not give me any mantra. No mantras, only that juice on the tongue." 
                I have never heard of such an incredible
        initiation into the mysteries. The sadhu searching the woods for some particular
        plant leaves, making a juice, then taking the sharp thorny stem of some leaf, pulling out
        the tongue and making a cut about two inches long. The scar would be there for the
        rest of his life. And then into the cut on the tongue,
          the juice. Instantly, Baba later would say, everything was transformed
          by the juice on the tongue.
        He saw Guru and he saw God. He said it was sweeter than the sweetest honey. To this day we
        do not know what plant it was. Was it the possibly fabled "soma" medicine the Rishis sang
          of in the ancient Vedas? Was it a psychotropic substance, as it would
          seem from Baba's description? 
                He was never to meet his guru again in the flesh
        after that night. He remained in the forest for a while, wandering about
          looking for this amazing giant man. He approached a number of sadhus
          asking if they had seen such a huge man, hands this big, feet that
          big. They answered in amazement: "You saw him? Why did you
          let him go?"  
                One day, still in that area,
          while sitting by a tree in a semi-doze he had a clear vision of that
          man again, his Guru. The Guru told him not to bother looking for him
          in the physical form. He said that he would alway be with him and
          would come to him hereafter in visions and in dreams. And so it
          happened. Whoever Prahlad's Guru really was
        he would be able to make Baba to know things that were to happen in the future.
          The story of this incident seems the stuff of myth and legend. 
                After this he returned home
        there was a most
        joyous homecoming. The parents, who had feared their son was dead, were
        beside themselves to have him safely back in their arms. But Prahlad
        could not help but suffer to see that his parents were in such dire
        poverty. After some time left for Calcutta to try to earn some money and
        ease the destitution of his family. There was little work there and he spent
        years as a beggar, selling rice by the roadside, washing pots and pans at a bread shop,
        and sending what few rupees he could to his mother and father. 
                But he always remembered and was haunted by his
        encounter with the sadhu (holy man) in the forest. He began to spend more of his nights in
        meditation by the banks of the Ganges river, where many secrets of yoga were gradually
        revealed to him. He became a sadhu himself and a temple priest, first in a remote village
        called Kuldanga, and later in another village called Ramanathpur where his ashram still
        functions and his body is buried. 
                It is a matter of sad
          acceptance that so many wonderful and miraculous stories of his life
          went unrecorded and known only to those few involved. He never had the
          slightest inclination to consider himself a great man or to gather a
          large flock of disciples. He was instead the perfect disciple himself
          of that mysterious being he called his Guru, and an ardent worshipper
          of that majestic force and presence he called simply
          "Mother." 
                Baba made three visits to America, the first in
        1976, where he lived as simply as he did in India, doing his daily worship and meeting
        with whomever showed up at the door. His holy company brought untold joy and inspiration
        to all who met him. The many wonderful stories of his life will gradually be published on
        this website, as well as the reminiscences of friends and disciples.
                  
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