1977. Kisumu. Swamishri arrived at Miwani Sugar Factory after almost three hours of exhausting padhramanis. As he relaxed in the reception lounge, the fatigue on his face was clear. I knew he must have been thirsty because he hadn't drank anything since we'd left that morning. So I offered some water to Thakorji, then offered it to Swamishri. But Swamishri wanted to wash his hands first. They'd become red with all the kumkum from the padhramanis. I quickly found a large bowl in which Swamishri could wash his hands. As I brought both the bowl and glass of water to Swamishri, he suddenly pulled away his hands. I thought Swamishri was teasing me.

So I moved even closer.

"Krishnapriya," Swamishri said, "the glass has Thakorji's prasadi water. You can't wash hands with that. Bring another glass of water."

Such a subtle point, yet Swamishri has never let his devotion for Thakorji falter.