He was a man who assumed no airs, but who also, bowed to none, but his Guru. A man whose eyes shone with an inner fire.
One day a young Polish-man who had been living many years in India, namely Maurice Frydman, was strolling down a back lane in this particular area of Bombay when he noticed this bidi seller in the midst of an animated conversation with several other men.
He had learnt to speak Marathi, the main dialect spoken in Maharashtra, the state in which Bombay is situated. So he was able to understand much of what was being spoken and it stopped him in his tracks.
Maurice Frydman had a knack of picking out 'jnanis' (liberated beings) even in the midst of an ordinary throng. While listening to the conversation taking place he was astounded at the wisdom and profound clarity of understanding of this 'simple bidi walla'...
Read more in Never Not Ever Here Now
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