As a doctor, day in day out I see people in pain. Some, I see, can tolerate only a little of it, and some a lot. But I am yet to meet another person as tolerant to pain as Radhanath Swami.
Radhanath Swami once had a frozen shoulder. I called our Dr. Chako to be his physiotherapist. Sitting on pins and needles I watched every session of the exercises, in burning anticipation of Chako over-stretching the frozen shoulder, which he often did.
My hand shot up, triggered by Radhanath Swami’s utterance, “Any questions?” He had just ended his hour long discourse and now sought to help out his audience with any clarifications. Unlike the vast majority around, I was new and knew little of spirituality. Yet, my eagerness to know more knew no bounds, and was already well known for my appetite to know more.
When I retired as the University Head of the Department of Chemistry, Bombay University, the sixty-odd research students I had guided during my career arranged for a one day symposium in my honor. For me, it was the second biggest occasion of the year, next only to the ceremony wherein I was awarded as the best university teacher for the entire state of Maharashtra.
