Whenever Shri Nathji would go for a walk at Harvard Square, cars would stop in the streets as curious passers-by tried to get a glimpse of him.
Shri Nathji would be dressed in his silk, golden orange turban, a white achkan, white chooridars and black shoes and be resplendent with a divine radiance on his face that outshone the lights of the city.
That one little glimpse from their car windows would be all that the denizens of the city would get of God at Harvard Square.
Priya Nath purchased an expensive pair of shoes for Shri Nathji from the Harvard Coop–a large department store at Harvard Square. Shri Nathji would never tire of speaking about these shoes even years after they had been stolen at a Gurudwara in London. Shri Nathji would say:
Priya Nathji purchased such an expensive pair of shoes for me and bought a cheap pair for himself!
The shoe-store owner found himself greatly attracted to Shri Nathji. He extended him a courtesy he would not have extended even to visiting dignitaries. He carried the box of shoes in his own hands as he escorted Shri Nathji to a taxi outside.
Shri Nathji’s royal bearing, his beautiful, dignified clothes, the detached air with which he walked, his flawless manners and winning smile, and, above all, his overpowering humility, all at once over-awed and won over everyone he met.
Dr. Ameya Chakravarty, who was teaching religion at Boston University, and who had been the personal secretary of Rabindranath Tagore, invited Shri Nathji to his home at Boston and heard him in rapt attention. Shri Nathji gave him a warm embrace upon parting, and left his blessings with the man.