Magical Sir,

Here I am making an attempt to picture the atmospherics around you. Hence we are in:

39. U.G.'s Midst

1) The atmosphere around him is never normal,
He prevents people from becoming too formal,
He charges the air like a stormy petrel,
But to my ears it's music and I play the minstrel!

2) Like a tape-recorder he often repeats,
In spiritual dialogue he never retreats,
He emphatically listens to our moans and bleats,
He is unique, ahead of us by millions of streets.

3) Our mental blocks he surgeon-like cleaves,
Doubts get dispelled as he resonantly speaks,
His words impact, only on the one who believes,
As the moon-phase brightens, he Everest-like peaks!

4) He is an entity who daily dies,
When he puts you to the test, he sees through all lies,
In his presence fear takes wings and flies!
He is no ordinary as he has seen many skies!

5) He is a computer way beyond the binary,
His Spartan diet has no Indian curry,
Around him people are in orderly flurry,
He wastes not a second, but without any hurry!

6) He keeps on calling "Come on, Bob,"
One from America, who held a preacher's job,
U.G. prompted him to get out and stop the rob,
U.G. has no intent either to change you or the mob!

7) My Uncle wanted a "Master-alive" as a guide,
Did penances galore, but could not rid himself of pride,
U.G. took over and put him through a very rough ride,
Now he's at peace with himself, as all his "wants" have died!