Alok Kejriwal

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Then, before my eyes an elder Naga, sitting motionless in the lotus posture, slowly levitated about a foot above the ground. Another Baba near the fire did the same. I pinched myself to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. No, I was awake, just in another world, a world of rough and rowdy mendicants aloof to everything but their own reality.
The Journey Home: Autobiography of an American Swami
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