Anandamath (The Abbey of Bliss)/Introductory
It was a vast forest The trees in it were mostly sal, but there were other trees too. Their tops and leaves ran into one another to form an endless line. This vast ocean of foliage, without break, without a hole, without, in fact, the smallest opening to let in light, stretched forth miles after miles, and miles after miles again, throwing up waves upon waves of green on the air. Below, there was the deepest gloom; light was dim here even when the sun was at its height. It was a fearful wilderness and no man ever stepped into it. Save the eternal rustle of leaves and the yells of wild animals, no sound was ever heard within it.
Such was this forest,—vast, gloomy, and dense; and the time we are speaking of was midnight; and a very dark night too, even out of the woods—where nothing could be seen. The gloom within the forest was black like the darkness in the womb of the earth.
Birds and beasts were wholly silent. Myriads of beasts, birds, worms and insects lived in the woods, but not one made a sound. You might rather imagine the darkness that was there, but you could not think of that dead stillness of the wood in a world which so much revels in sound. In that vast lonely forest, in that pitch-dark midnight, and from that unimaginable stillness came forth the words, "Will my desire not be fulfilled."
When the sound died away, the woods sank back into silence. Who would think then, that a man's voice had just been heard in the woods? Soon after, the words were heard again; again the stillness was disturbed, and a human voice rang forth: "Will my desire not be fulfilled?"
Thrice was the ocean of gloom thus stirred before the answer came, "What can you pawn for it?"
"Even my very life."
"Life is a trifle," was the answer, "every one can give it up."
"What more have I got? What more could I give?"
The answer came: "Devotion."