Srikanta
calf had been tethered to the branches of a tree. Close by was a small tent. Peeping inside, I saw a disciple of about my own age holding a stone mortar between his feet and preparing bhang[1] in it with a big pestle. The holy scene opened the flood-gates of my devotion, and in the twinkling of an eye I lay prostrate at the feet of the Baba. Taking the dust of his feet on my head, I thought, 'How infinite is Thy mercy, O God! To what a place hast Thou brought me! Let Piari go to perdition! If I ever leave this spot which is the very gate-way to salvation, may I never find a resting place even in everlasting hell!'
'Son,' asked the sadhu,' what has brought thee here?'
'I have left my home.' I said meekly, 'a child in ignorance, a wretch that seeks the path to salvation. Grant me the privilege of waiting on your august feet.'
The sadhu smiled, and nodded two or three times; then he said briefly in Hindi, 'Son, go back home: the Path is most difficult.'
'Baba,' I replied in a voice of supplication, 'in the Mahabharata[2] it is written that the great sinners, Jagai and Madhai, attained to heaven by holding the feet of Vashistha, the mighty ascetic; and should I not also get salvation through the virtue of your lotus-feet? A voice within me says I must.'
The sadhu was evidently pleased, and said, 'What thou sayest is true. Very well, my son, if God Rama so wills it,
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