Swamiji takes laundry piece by piece, numbers it, writes out every item, washes it, dries it and irons it ; as I collect my laundry, after being postponed for a day, it just finished drying ; I tell Swamiji as he seems to insist on ironing only to ‘press’ the big pieces but with his piercing smile he takes my underwear and my socks for pressing leaving the queue of impatient Indians that has formed but Swamiji couldn’t be disturbed less ; he’s his own man so people will have to wait. And they do wait.