The leader, whom we expected to arrive by around six o’clock, only came and started the meeting at seven. The estimate that ten thousand people would attend, as predicted by Mr. Ravanarao, was utterly surpassed. It looked as if fifty thousand, or even a hundred thousand, had gathered—the entire field, as far as the eye could see, was packed so densely with people that not even a grain of sand could have found space to fall. Mr. Paul delivered a magnificent speech. Never in my life had I heard such an address! In fact, I doubted I ever would again. I felt that the echoes of that speech would ring in my ears for the rest of my life.

For nearly two hours, Mr. Paul spoke in a language unknown to the crowd, but another Telugu leader translated as he went along. Yet, not a single person stirred, not a whisper was heard, not even a breath seemed to escape—so solemn was the silence with which those thousands listened to the speech. It was an unforgettable, indelible scene in my life. For about ten minutes, the air was rent with applause so thunderous it seemed the very sky had drawn near, and thus the meeting concluded.

By the time I reached home, it was about ten o’clock. My mother was sitting at the entrance of the street, waiting anxiously for me. As I walked home, seeing the crowd following behind me, it felt as though the entire village had attended the meeting. I came home, bathed, and ate my meal in silence, answering none of my mother’s questions, and went straight to bed. My father, who usually stayed awake until then, did not get up to see me. He did not speak a word to me. Deciding that thunder, lightning, and storms would not arrive until morning, I slept peacefully.

Morning came. I woke up, bathed, and finished my breakfast of curd rice. My father, having finished his prayers, was waiting for me. Everything seemed calm, but the gravity on his face was quite terrifying. In his usual slow manner, he asked, “You were nowhere to be seen last night. Where did you go?”

“I went to Narsapuram,” I replied.

“Why?” he asked.

At that point, I realized there was no escaping the explanation, and so, two or three...

For years now, I have briefly described the meetings and events that have been taking place in Narsapur under the guidance of Mr. Ravanarao. I then spoke openly and without any pretense about my acquaintance with him, the affection he had for me, the encouragement he gave, and the work I was doing in these meetings.

My father listened to all this in silence for a moment, then said, “Have you really thought this through, this work you are doing? What benefit is it bringing you? All I can see is loss. Your studies have been neglected. Instead of sitting comfortably at home and minding your own business, you’re spending your