"Devaraha Baba had obviously watched us coming, because he scolded us, when we reached him. It was far too dangerous to cross the river. We should take the bridge, which was about two kilometres up the river. A sadhu, a sort of monk with matted hair piled high up on his head, translated this for us. Baba waved us closer and asked me where I came from. He benignly nodded his head a few times. He murmured a mantra in Sanskrit and asked us to repeat it line by line. Then he instructed the sadhu to give us sugar candies, so many, as we just managed to hold with both our hands. With difficulty, we wrapped them into a shawl, including those, who had landed in the sand. Baba gave us his blessing and sent us abruptly away. He turned to others, who had come by car via the bridge and carried a basket full of fruits to him. Back in my room in the tourist bungalow I noticed that I liked Baba. In fact I like him very much. My heart jumped with joy at the thought that I would see him again the next day—almost as if I was in love, which seemed inexplicable."