Excerpt from the Autobiography of a Yogi:
“Sitting on my bed in the Bombay hotel at three o’clock in the afternoon of June 19, 1936—one week after the vision of Krishna — I was roused from my meditation by a beatific light. Before my open and astonished eyes, the whole room was transformed into a strange world, the sunlight transmuted into supernal splendor. Waves of rapture engulfed me as I beheld the flesh and blood form of Sri Yukteswar! “My son!” Master spoke tenderly, on his face an angel-bewitching smile. For the first time in my life I did not kneel at his feet in greeting, but instantly advanced to gather him hungrily in my arms. Moment of moments! The anguish of past months was toll I counted weightless against the torrential bliss now descending. “Master mine, beloved of my heart, why did you leave me?” I was incoherent in an excess of joy. “Why did you let me go to the Kumbha Mela? How bitterly have I blamed myself for leaving you!” “I did not want to interfere with your happy anticipation of seeing the pilgrimage spot where first I met Babaji. I left you only for a little while; am I not with you again?” “But is it you, Master, the same Lion of God? Are you wearing a body like the one I buried beneath the cruel Puri sands?” “Yes, my child, I am the same. This is a flesh and blood body. Though I see it as ethereal, to your sight it is physical. From cosmic atoms I created an entirely new body, exactly like that cosmic-dream physical body which you laid beneath the dream-sands at Puri in your dream-world. I am in truth resurrected—not on earth but on an astral planet. Its inhabit-ants are better able than earthly humanity to meet my lofty standards. There you and your exalted loved ones shall some-day come to be with me.” “Deathless guru, tell me more!” Master gave a quick, mirthful chuckle. “Please, dear one,” he said, “won’t you relax your hold a little?” “Only a little!” I had been embracing him with an octopus grip. I could detect the same faint, fragrant, natural odor that had been characteristic of his body before. The thrilling touch of his divine flesh still persists around the inner sides of my arms and in my palms whenever I recall those glorious hours. — Read more: http://yogananda.com.au/aoy/beyond_death_1.html”