LETTERS FROM ABROAD
its ever newness of truth. I seem to pass through a real training for becoming a sanyasi when I am in this country. Buddha was born to a royal house which gave him the fitness to attain the true majesty of beggardom. I wrote a poem when I was in India, “I shall never be an Ascetic.” But when I am here, inspiration comes to me, with a rush of lyrical fervour, to write a hymn to Shiva, the Lord of Ascetics, who uses the four quarters of the sky for his dress.
This latter fact appeals to me just now more than anything else, when my mind and body are rebelling day and night against the bondage of the tailoring disponsation. It may sound to you like a paradox when I say, that, what oppresses me most in this country is the utter lack of freedom with which the atmosphere is charged. But it is true. I long to draw in the breath of life, but my nostrils get stopped with sand and soot, and then I am choked into acknowledging the truth, that it is not the substance which is most important for us, but the bareness of it.
Leisure and space are the most precious gifts for us ; for we are creators. Our reat freedom is in the world of our own creation, where our mind can work unhindered and our soul finds its throne from which to survey its own dominion.
When we are in India we dream only of the advantages that money can confer upon us; but when we are in this country we are
