It was a Sunday morning some years ago and, as was his custom, shunyayogi sat cross-legged before his home shrine, looking at his favourite deities with sadness.
The problem was that he had always cherished his intimate “connection” with them: he could talk to them, he could bow to them, he could feel them in his heart. But today, everything seemed changed. There was absolutely no feeling for them, no love, just a dull numbness and a hollow feeling in his chest. And, mind you, this was not the result of any other depressing cause in his life.
His feelings then are hard to describe. Let's say that he felt that his beloved personal deities had "deserted" him. A deep sadness engulfed him. Then, as shunyayogi sat there on his prayer mat, in silent despair, a line from a Hindi film song wafted across from a neighbour’s radio: Milegi na manzil tujhe bin khevaiya.
The astonishing thing was that neither the preceding line nor the succeeding line was heard, just this one line. Sharp and clear. And shunyayogi got goose bumps on hearing it. Existence had spoken.
Roughly translated, the line from the song said: You shan't find what you seek without the boatman.
You see, to spiritual seekers the world over, the boatman is always the guru.