helped me beyond all expectations. Earlier it had been Mr. Drewett who had taught me personally, now it was the headmaster of St. Paul's who took me in hand. This, I have noticed, is one of the finer traits in the English character. If an Englishman grows fond of you or is impressed by you, he will go to any length to help you."

"Didn't you feel lost and lonely among so many English boys?" asked Aurobindoprasad.

"Why lonely? You mean because I was an Indian? But at that age one is not supposed to have all those notions about racial distinctions! Or perhaps I believed I was English myself, since I spoke like them, dressed like them, in every way I was like them - where was the difference? Yes, there was the colour factor, but after the cold climate of Darjeeling and 5 years of Manchester, I wasn't very dark any more. And later on, after I took up the practice of Yoga, my skin became even fairer."

I interrupted here to say - "When Bhupalbabu came here for your darshan, the first question he asked me was - 'I hear that Sri Aurobindo's colour has changed, he has become fair; is that true?' He was extremely surprised by my answer in the affirmative."

Sri Aurobindo said smiling, "You know when I was in Baroda, once someone came to see me. On seeing that I could not recognise him, he exclaimed, 'What? don't you recognise me? I'm Hesh.'

" 'Oh you're Hesh? But you look absolutely like a foreigner!'

" 'I've grown fair, haven't I? That's why I sometimes think that if one sent a whole shipload of us darkies to those cold European countries, at least our complexion would resemble theirs and the distinction between the whites and the blacks would disappear. It's this colour complex that is at the root of our slave-mentality,' he concluded. So now, you know that the complexion can change due to geographical reasons, and spiritual ones too."

Bittu turned to me and asked, "I would like to know if

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Bhupalbabu was able to recognise Sri Aurobindo."

I answered in an amused tone, "Well, at the actual moment of the darshan, he may have been too nervous to be able to notice his complexion!"

"Why nervous?" asked Aloka.

I replied, "You haven't experienced the darshan! And then of course you are all children, and fear is something you know little of. Also the Sri Aurobindo you are seeing now is quite other than the Lord who sat before us at the Darshan. The poet Nishikanto or Kobida, wrote of one such occasion. In English translation it would read:

'Filled am I with fear and love, O Lord, O Beloved.

For merciless is Thy marvellous light that shatters my darkest night.'

"So it is not at alt surprising if one feels nervous during darshan, even if one does not admit the feeling of fear. Dr. Manilal told Sri Aurobindo, 'Sir, you look majestic during the darshan.' And I wrote to him after Darshan, 'Your Himalayan austerity and grandeur take my breath away, making my heart palpitate!' And do you know what Sri Aurobindo replied, 'O rubbish! I am austere and grand, grim and stern! every blasted thing that I never was! I groan in unAurobindonian despair when I hear such things.' "

There was loud laughter. Sri Aurobindo also laughed and asked, "But... haven't we moved very far away from our topic? What were we discussing earlier?"

"Your school-days," prompted Vinit.

"Well, it's late today. I'll start from there the next time."

On the way out, the children whispered among themselves, "Did you see how beautiful his colour was? Molten gold!"

"Yes, I hadn't noticed it last time because he was lying down."

A third child broke in, "What gold are you talking of? I only saw him as very fair."

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A fourth: "Did you notice the dhoti, all the fine pleats made with such care? Really, not at all like our simple Lord Shiva! And here was I, really frightened of him at the beginning. How silly of me!"

Sachet said', "Today we've come rather early so that we may spend more time with you. You know, after waiting a whole week to come and see you, our visit seems so terribly short. The minutes fly so fast that hardly have you started to talk when it is time for us to leave. Could we come at some other time too, not just in the evening?"

"Mustn't you go to school?"

"But there are Sunday mornings or afternoons."

"Ah no! I am very busy then."

"Busy? Writing? We heard that you write a great deal of poetry. Or are you busy with something else?"

Sri Aurobindo said laughing, "Oh! Those mysteries are beyond you. They deal with my Yoga. I have to go to far-away places both above and below, and do so many kinds of work which would make you gape in wonder if I described them all in detail. For example, I must go and help anyone of you who is ill, or send the right inspiration to the poet who needs it. These are all very minor instances of my work. Most people think that I sit here in my room spending my time in luxurious isolation, unconcerned with what is happening in the world outside. You see, very few people understand Yogis and Rishis. It is said in the Scriptures that what the Common man calls day is night for the Yogi. When you grow up, you will understand better all this secret lore."

"That's true. Visitors who come from the outside world cannot understand what we are doing here. They ask us such strange questions about you and the Mother and the Ashram that we don't know whether to laugh or feel annoyed."

"What sort of questions?"

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"Such as why, if this is a spiritual institution, a Yogashram, do boys and girls go about so freely together and why is there such an emphasis on sports, and so on. They also want to know why the Mother wears beautiful clothes and what has made you give up all the work you used to do for the country to stay now shut within the four walls of your room. You know, the same questions, over and over again."

"And how do you answer them?" . '

"When we can't answer them satisfactorily, we ask them to go and speak to Nolinida, Pavitrada or Dada," answered Rahul.

"Who is Dada?"

"Don't you know Dada? Why, it's Pranabda."

"Oh! Pranab I know, not Dada."

"We all call him Dada, our elder brother. We've just finished our exercises; had a quick wash in order to come to you. We have a very strict programme of physical education which we have to follow. Dada says exercises are no less important than studies."

"He is right. I have told you, have I not,, of how, in our time, games and physical exercises were considered unimportant, how all the emphasis was placed only on studies? Today, thanks to the development of science, life-styles and attitudes have changed, and one is encouraged to pursue the science of physical development. Did you know that it held an important place in the cultures of ancient India, Greece and Rome? In our Yoga too, it is essential to have a strong and healthy body." . .

"Why? That is exactly what visitors to the Ashram do not understand." .

"There are several reasons, I shall explain this to you in a few words. Only he who has a body firmly founded in strength and free of disease can fully receive the light and the power that we are bringing down. If you exercise your body in the right way, the more will it become free of heaviness and inertia and inconscience, and each cell will then imbibe the higher light. It is good to utilise the qualities

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we have in order to increase and make more exact the control of physical activities. It is very obvious that those who practise physical culture scientifically and with coordination acquire a control over their bodies that's unimaginable for ordinary people."

Udita said, "Some time ago, the Russian gymnasts came here, the Mother talked to us about them in the evening class." Udita asked Champaklal if she could have the Questions and Answers from the shelf there. He gave it to her, and she turned the pages of the book, found the passage and read it out, 'We saw with what ease they did exercises which for an ordinary man are impossible, and they did them as if it was the simplest thing in the world; there was not even the least sign of effort! That mastery is already a great step towards the transformation of the body. And these people who are materialists by profession, used no spiritual method in their education; it was solely by material means and an enlightened use of human will that they had achieved this result. If they had added to this a spiritual knowledge and power, they could have achieved an almost miraculous result.... Because of the false ideas prevalent in the world, we don't usually see the two things together,. spiritual mastery and material mastery, and so one is always incomplete without the other; but this is exactly what we want to do and what Sri Aurobindo is going to explain: if the two are combined, the result can reach a perfection that's unthinkable for the ordinary human mind and this is what we want to attempt.' "

"Quite so. If you give up your exercises today you are sure to give your doctors a great deal more work tomorrow. Headaches and stomach-aches and indigestion will follow. One may even find that symptoms of ailments such as diabetes and blood-pressure, heart-trouble begin to disturb the person who does not take any exercise. Here is the doctor, ask him."

"Who? Nirodda? He does a lot of excercise. And Nolinida runs even at this age."

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"Oh, he was always a footballer, whereas Nirod is a doctor, and values the importance of the body. He has also seen for himself how much the English loved games and sports - something for which both Oxford and Cambridge are famed at present."

"Yes, we have seen them hawking and hunting, in films. It was very impressive."

"I was once a student at Cambridge. Of course, that was a long time ago, a time when learning and degrees were more important than now. Perhaps today's Cambridge is quite different."

"Did you find many other Indians there, in your time?"

"No, just a handful. Indian students had just begun going to England then."

"You know, it's too early to start talking about your days at Cambridge since you haven't finished describing your school-days to us yet."

Sri Aurobindo laughed and said, "All right! Let's go back to the beginning. We may have to go back and forth in time quite often, I think. So... what is it you wish to know?"

"Since you were such a bright student at school, you must surely have received several prizes and awards."

"Yes, I did, a few. In history and literature and especially in classical studies. Do you know what classical studies are? Greek and Latin, which had the place our Sanskrit has with us. If one knew these well, one could master the English tongue better. Actually, all European languages and civilisations are derived from Greece and Rome. In earlier centuries all European cultures used Latin as their written language. I was rather good at Latin as well as Greek. I wrote some poetry in them and won prizes. I remember once I was asked to select a prize for myself, a book. I chose the Arabian Nights. It was beautifully bound and illustrated and I kept it for years afterwards. Have you read it? What fantastic imagination fills its pages! I think only easterners can have this kind of fantasy and imagination."

"Did you find that your western classmates envied you

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your success as a student?" asked Bittu.

"I never noticed anything of the sort. Actually I lived mostly in my own world and didn't bother with who was thinking what. But yes, when, from my corner of the classroom, I would speak out the answer to some difficult question, I did find them turning towards me in surprise - though if you ask about envy and jealousy, no."

"We used to look upon westerners as aliens at one time because they were foreigners. It was the Mother who changed our outlook," said Kriti.

"How?"

"She is a foreigner, but when we went to her for the first time she spoke to us with such love and sweetness, calling us 'mon petit', or 'mes petits', that we felt she was closer to us than our own mothers. Later, we started to address her as 'Douce Mere', and just seeing her walk past is enough to fill us with delight. Recently also a couple of Irish children, brother and sister, have come here, as well as a young French girl. We like them very much. The other day the little Irish girl recited a Bengali poem so beautifully that we were astounded. Even her pronunciation was so precise and correct, almost better than ours!"

"That is because the Irish are Celts, and their tongues are less stiff than those of the English. The latter seem to me to lock themselves up from within. For example, their friend- ship or affection is less demonstrative than ours. You and your friends walk with your arms around each other's necks, they will rarely do so. However, my brother managed to make friends with a few Englishmen. One of them was Lawrence Binyon who became a famous poet. I too got to know him through my brother. The fact that I knew several languages and was interested in a wide range of subjects impressed him enormously. Once, on reading my translation of a Greek poem, he asked me why I did not write poetry. But, on the other hand, these extra-curricular interests gave me a bad name too."

"You, a bad name?"

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"I have already told you that I wasn't too bad a student. My teachers found me promising. But as I went to the higher classes, my interest in studies seemed to decrease. The teachers mistakenly thought that I was rather spoilt. The fact of the matter was that whatever was taught in class seemed so simple, so easy to me that it lost all savour. I preferred reading other books and spent most of my time studying various other subjects. Thus, during the last three years of school, I read not only all the available books in English literature, but also those in French and other European literature. Naturally, my school studies suffered somewhat. I remember reading Shelley's long poem The Revolt of Islam several times, I enjoyed it so much. Not that I understood all of it clearly, but the idealism it put forth attracted me. Like Shelley, I also began to dream of a new age which would manifest on earth. Don't you read books, children?"

"We do, but not very many and those too are mostly story-books. In schools outside the Ashram the guardians don't encourage much extra reading, because they feel that the children will begin to neglect their studies. This, to them, is a very big sin since they believe that a good student is one who sits successfully for examinations and gets high grades. Of course, they do not find it easy to obtain books, either. Not so for us in the Ashram."

"It is good, even necessary, to read books outside your school curriculum. But the books you read at an early age should fill your hearts and minds with the beautiful and the great. There is no harm in reading novels, but if there is no beauty in their vision and expression they will not only not help you, but even harm you, because the excitement of the story may grip you completely. I just told you how in my youth The Revolt of Islam inspired so many dreams. The boys who joined the Indian Freedom Movement were similarly inspired by Bankim's Anandamath. Nowadays I am told .that the world is flooded with novels and short stories. Actually, you know, the secret of life is harmony. There

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must be a harmony in all you do. You may enjoy yourselves so long as you do your studies as well."

"But in our case, there are a few difficulties which make it hard for us to find time for everything. Firstly we spend three or four hours every day in the playing field or the gymnasium. Then, at school too, our programme is packed with a great number of subjects. You didn't have to study Science, did you?"

"No. Subjects like physics and chemistry were just beginning to be discussed and written about in magazines and journals. Usually they were described as 'newfangled notions'. But, in your case, even if you have more subjects to study, the amount of work you are expected to do for each is surely not much. And don't think that, just because we did not play games or do physical exercises, we sat at our desks all the time, busy with the parrot-like repetitions of our lessons! Actually what is required from the outset is discipline. If you organise your time to follow a controlled pattern then you will find that your life will always be open to new opportunities and occasions. If you had to undergo even half the hardship and suffering that we three brothers had to face in our student days, you would think that the world was a trackless desert of misery!"

"That you should have had to suffer is something unimaginable!"

"You are too young to understand. Actually even the elders of the Ashram believe that both the Mother and I have grown up, from the beginning, in the lap of luxury. Now I want to ask you if you have ever seen a banyan tree. From its earliest age, its sapling must fight against wind and weather. The taller the tree the harder the blows it receives and yet when you admire its vast silent strength, do you ever think of all the hardships it has faced as its boughs reach up to the sky? In just the same way, few people have had to face as much danger and difficulty both physical and psychological as we. It is due to our constant and sleepless effort that today your lives can blossom in such harmony and

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beauty and delight. But the hardships I had to face in my early years were due to poverty and hunger and, in fact, my brothers, especially Manomohan, felt this much more acutely than I. I never paid much attention to what I ate or the clothes I wore and always found it ridiculous to preoccupy myself with food, be it even a feast or a picnic. However, even in the Ashram, I find that the demands of the palate are overpowering. There was once, here, a sadhika named Mridu. Have you heard of her?"

"Yes. Wasn't she the one who made 'luchis' for you?"

"Yes. Whenever she got annoyed or fed up with the life here and threatened to leave, I stopped her by saying, 'If you go away, who will make me luchis?' (Laughter)

"She was indeed a good cook. Once a week it was her turn to cook in the Ashram kitchen and she would make wonderful Bengali dishes with all the vegetables and spices available. Everybody in the Ashram would wait eagerly for that day of the week."

"We also go out on picnics now and then, but not so much for the pleasure of eating good food. Food, after all, disappears so fast."

"That's just it, and how it should be. But the women in India seem to spend so much of their lives cooking, frying and crying, because of the many types of dishes they have to make - eighteen types, as the saying goes - I have even attended a feast where there were more than a hundred! But when I left home to work for my country's freedom, I remember having survived on bread and bananas for about a month. The banana is an excellent food, both tasty and healthy. I have heard of an African tribe that survives on bananas alone. When, as boys, we were short of money, we had to live on bread, tea and cheap sausages and, even in the English winter, had to do without a warm coat. But this did not hinder me in my studies."

Rohit said softly, "But you are...."

"Different? Have you too learnt to speak like the old people here? It is not true. There is such a thing as human

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nature, and I had it too. But it can be changed. Do you think I started performing miracles from the day I was born? It will surprise you to hear that I had faults in my nature too. At the age of 13 I became aware of my selfishness and I began to try my best to rid myself of it. And whenever there Were any quarrels or arguments to be faced, with a landlady for example, it was always Manomohan who stood up for us. I never dared to utter a word. Then, one day, I decided to do away with this fear, and I began going forward into those very situations that, earlier, had left me quaking.

"I have already told you about how we almost starved because we had so little money. This began soon after we arrived in London. In the beginning, we were staying with Mr. Drewett's mother who had come with us to London. Even when we couldn't pay her, she never complained. All the same, we felt terribly embarrassed and uncomfortable about the situation. As you know she was a very pious Christian and wanted very much that we too be converted to her beliefs. So we were obliged to say grace before meals, read the Bible and go with her to church, which we unwillingly did. Perhaps she still hoped to draw our souls into the Christian fold, and there were times when the tyranny of her religious zeal seemed unbearable. We bore it all stoically. But one day there was a bombshell. We were at prayers and Manomohan, who happened to be in a bad mood that day, protested to the old lady by shouting - 'The followers of old Moses did very well by disobeying him!' Moses was a prophet to the Christians. Horrified and furious, she screamed back at him: 'These pagans! These nonbelievers! If I stay a minute longer with them, the roof will fall down on my head.' On hearing this, we all sighed with relief and looked gratefully at Manomohan.

"Actually, at that age, I was not specially attached to truth nor was I courageous. Between the Aurobindo of those years and the revolutionary Aurobindo there was a world of difference. The friends and acquaintances I had then could never have imagined that the Aurobindo they

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knew would one day be at the head of a revolution and willingly risk his life for his nation's cause. I had to fight against my faults systematically, at every step, before I attained a yogic stature. Have you heard how Hillary and Tenzing reached the top of Mt. Everest?"

"Yes, we have. We have even seen a film of it. What a struggle! Masses of ice, bone-breaking rocks, snowstorms, avalanches and blizzards. And, at every step, the fear of slipping down from the smooth icy rock-faces. Terrifying! And yet magnificent. But, tell us, why do human beings venture to do these things? What do they get by thus gambling with their lives? Is it for name and fame?"

"Why? Don't you understand the intense joy of knowing the unknowable and of doing the impossible? Do you think that name and fame and wealth are all that man seeks for? There is, deep, in the heart of man, an unquenchable upspringing fire. This was what forced him to leave the early security of his cave in order to build up his enormous palace of Civilisation. This again is what is behind his dream of moving earth and sky. Do you want, like Gandhi, Rousseau or Tolstoy, to return to that early state of Nature?

"Of course, the west has always tried to conquer the world around while Asia, particularly India, has sought to master the worlds within. And conquest of the peaks of the Spirit is far more difficult and dangerous than climbing Everest. You don't believe me?"

"But why is it so? Why has the Divine made the way to Himself so steep, so hard? If you had only wished it, you could easily have made our paths smooth and free, could you not?"

"These infantile notions such as 'Why does God test man so cruelly? Why is He so merciless, to what end?' are pretty widespread. From the beginning of time, man has bitterly complained against God that He is unjust and unfeeling. But the Lord only smiles behind the veil, saying, 'How man misjudges me - I who ceaselessly help and sustain him. He forgets me in his happiness, but when pain and misery make

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him cry out to me, I always hold my arms out to him in protection. He has only to take one step towards me and I reach out to clasp him.' To put it briefly, the Lord is the ¦ source and end of all love, joy, beauty, power, wisdom.

"And this infinite marvel that He is - should it be cheaply ,. won? Would that be right? If a priceless treasure were easily obtained, who would value it? Supposing gold and diamonds were strewn on the streets - as they were supposed to be in Eldorado - do you think the government would then have taxed gold ornaments or would you have been attracted by them? The Lord is the purest of all gold, the treasure of all treasures. Possess it even for a short while and you will find that all things else seem worthless. Have you read Tagore's lines where he makes the Brahmin say to Sanatana: 'That nameless treasure I beg of thee which makes all earthly gems dim and pale. Thus saying, on the sandy river-bank he cast away his precious stone.'

"This is absolutely true. Now for your next question. It is not that we cannot lighten your burden of pain and misery; in fact, we do it and I am sure some of you must have experienced this often enough. Ask Nirod how much easier things have been made for you children. Since we are your Gurus, we are bound to help you. But if you demand that we clear your paths in a moment and lead you to the divine realisation straightaway, then, I'm afraid, we will not do so. I have just explained why. Secondly, we too are subject to the Divine Law, a Law which our whim or desire may not break or alter. Thirdly, there is the human nature that is full of impurities like jealousy and anger, restlessness, desires, fears and inertia. This nature has to be gradually cleansed of all these. Otherwise, if the light and power and joy were brought down into an impure vessel, it would find itself in a situation similar to that of Hriday, the nephew of Ramakrishna."

"Why? What happened to him?" asked Anirban. "Haven't you read the Kathamrita, the life and teaching of Sri Ramakrishna?"

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"Some of it we have tried to read, though it's often hard to understand. But we remember seeing Hriday in the film on Ramakrishna. Ramakrishna used to call him 'Hride'. He did look a bit stupid."

"That he was, indeed. He looked after his uncle, it is true, but he also troubled him a great deal. Unwittingly of course, and that shows he wasn't bright."

"Please tell us his story," requested Anirban.

"Well, you see, when he found that his uncle had granted to Vivekananda and others the vision of the Divine Mother, he complained to him loud and long, 'I look after you all the time and never get to see anything in reward. It's always others who are shown the divine visions.' Sri Ramakrishna explained to him, 'Continue working for me and looking after me; that will bring you all possible rewards.' But when the young man, refusing to understand, continued to insist and complain, his uncle finally touched him with his finger. Merely touched him once, with one finger. But in that instant Hriday found himself surrounded by an ocean of light! Light everywhere, the whole universe had become only light, but since his being had not been purified and prepared for such an experience, he lost his head. He began to shout, 'Ramakrishna, Ramakrishna, come, let's set out to save the country!' He had forgotten he was talking to his uncle. It was as though he himself was the Guru and Ramakrishna his disciple! (Laughter) The latter smiled to see how little was needed to make a man lose his self- control. So he touched his nephew a second time, and lo, the world of light was dissolved! Hriday, the great Yogi, was once again the simpleton he had earlier been!"

"Yes, we have heard about similar experiences. Nirodda told us how, in the early years of his Sadhana, he had felt showers of joy coming down on him. This had lasted a bare 10 or 15 seconds but it was enough to make him feel completely intoxicated."

"Indeed, it is so, particularly when the being is small and unprepared."

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"Oh then... for us... after all, we are so weak! There are some of us who think that the very words 'Sadhana' and 'Yoga' are too difficult for us to understand, and are meant only for older people. All we need to do is to study and work, do whatever the Mother has asked us to do and rely solely on her, believing that she will do everything for us. Isn't that right?"

"Absolutely right, provided you have an unshakable faith and trust in her. You must be like the little kittens, as Ramakrishna used to say. It's just because you are not strong that we are here with you. Man, however great he may be, cannot attain the Divine by himself. It is the Divine Grace that makes everything possible. As the Bhagavata says, the Grace can make the dumb speak and the lame 'climb the tallest mountains. There is no miracle the Grace cannot perform."

"There is one thing that seems strange to us. On the one hand, you say you were a timid boy, on the other you were winning so many prizes and accolades!"

"But what has winning prizes got to do with timidity? So often, extremely intelligent students are quite incapable of achieving anything in life. Their minds are free and active in the world of thought and imagination, it is when these have to be translated into action that their timidity hampers them. You see, in my own world of thought, I did not have to fight any battles or face any opponent. No old Mrs. Drewett came in there to lecture me, no authority to challenge my rights. One is always alone in one's mind. One is one's own friend, as well as one's own enemy. But, then, to fight that enemy, no outside courage is required, it is there within the being. You understand me? Fear is something that dwells either in the vital being or in the body. You may call it man's original sin, which can be conquered by the force of will. That is exactly what I learned to do when I grew older. Whenever I found myself afraid of any particular action, I would throw myself into it with greater fervour. My argument was that since one day die we must, it was better to die bravely, even

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if earlier than live longer, fearful and cowardlike. Have you heard of the French king Henry IV? It is said of him that he was full of fear, but to get rid of it he used to literally jump into the thick of the battle. You know, my body was not like yours, well-built and sturdy. It most definitely did not enjoy exertion and exercise in any form. But, on the other hand, the power of my will was very great so that no amount of physical pain or suffering could get me down. I have played with death or lived dangerously, as it is said, just by this mental will-power. Not only that! I have helped others to become brave, and seen so many youngsters go smiling to the gallows for love of their motherland.

"Caesar and Napoleon never knew the meaning of the word 'fear'. There is a widely known story about Caesar. Once he was on a ship which was caught in a terrific storm. All the sailors were filled with fear. But Caesar was calm and said to them, 'How can you feel fear? Do you not know you are carrying the fortunes of Caesar?'

"But, of course, such men are different from their very birth, as were Arjuna and Abhimanyu. You surely know Abhimanyu's story?"

The children looked at one another, some said yes, many said no.

"Have you not read the Mahabharata?"

Some children excitedly shouted, "We watched it on the TV."

"You must have seen how in the battle of Kurukshetra the boy Abhimanyu found himself surrounded by enemy kings and fought single-handed and even broke through that mortal trap. But ultimately the Kauravas charged at him in a mass and killed him. Well, such instances of heroism are rare in the annals of mankind."

"Dada too was very brave even as a boy. He used to fight with the police."

"Is that so? Why?"

"Because the police would often bully and threaten people wrongly. Once there was a big football match in

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Dada's town, and he was asked to man the gate. When he found the police inspector trying to force his way into the field without buying a ticket, Dada stopped him. The inspector swung his arm at him, Dada swung back and knocked him down flat. News of the 'boxing bout' spread like wildfire and, in a little while, there were the turbaned policemen on one side and the boys from Dada's Sports Club on the other. The whole affair went to court. Dada's lawyer explained to him why he mustn't admit having hit a police inspector. But as soon as he was questioned about it he straightaway told the truth! Another time, he fought the military, and Dada's uncle, Motakaka, had to spend quite a fortune to get him and his friends released. Of course, the soldiers too were punished."

Kriti meekly asked, "By the way would you tell us why we girls are so easily frightened? Dogs, even mice and cockroaches make us scream or run. The boys laugh at us. It is really too shameful. I often decide I won't be so easily scared, but when the time comes I find myself trembling." (Laughter)

"But the cause are those very boys! Right from the earliest dawn of history men have preferred their women to stay at home. They have treated them as pretty dolls to be petted and pampered at best. Look at the Greeks. They, who had such a magnificent civilisation, wished their women to sit at home spinning wool and be the wives and mothers of brave warriors. They could not go out into the world. Then, there is the story of Jeanne d'Arc who was burnt alive - for several reasons, one of them being that she dared to fight on the battlefield dressed as a man! And then, with time, various notions such as - 'Woman leads man to Hell, she is the cause of his downfall, she must be debarred from the spiritual seeker's path' - tightened the noose around women. So the injunction of the Scriptures came to be that in childhood a girl should be governed by her father, as a woman by her husband, in old age by her son. As you know, in India, the word of the Scriptures has always been

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accepted with unquestioning obedience, with the result that women have remained helpless and weak.

"But the world around has been slowly changing. The first great awakening was the French Revolution. Then, the 19th century gave us writers like Zola and Ibsen. Later came Shaw and many others who spoke against social evils and injustices. In Turkey, Kamal Ataturk freed women from the burkha. Indian history recounts the stories of many brave and illustrious women - Samyukta, Subhadra, Padmini. There are also the great names of the queen of Jhansi as well as Rani Rashmoni, both of whom stood up to fight against foreign rule. In fact, many women in Bengal took part in the Swadeshi Movement.

"Now they are beginning to find themselves, especially after India's Independence, and to realise that they are portions of the divine universal Shakti. Unfortunate indeed is the land where women are downtrodden. The Divine Mother comes upon earth from time to time to break such bonds. This time she has come down as the Mother herself in all her Power. All of you children live here together, with one common ideal before you, don't you? Boys and girls work and play and study in friendship and the old strict conventions are starting to crumble. The girls must really forget that they are different - frail and circumscribed. But you spoke of fear - is that really so common even in the Ashram?"

"Sometimes, it is. But there are many instances of bravery, too. The Mother herself spoke to us of one such incident. A young girl was one day riding her bicycle. Two local boys began to chase and bother her. When she found that she was unable to shake them off, she got down from the cycle and stood facing them. She swung the big old- fashioned gate-key she had in her hand.

" 'Come closer and I'll smash your faces!' she said firmly. Terrified, the two boys rode off as fast as they could! Though she was only a slip of a girl, rather thin and short, not the least bit muscular or strong-looking, she had shown

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great courage. The Mother was full of appreciation for it."

"Do you think courage is necessarily measured by physical strength? Why then did the two physically far stronger boys run away? Actually, strength is of the mind too. People like those two fellows believe women are weak and can be easily bullied. But mental strength can scare them off."

"Speaking of mental strength reminds me of another girl who also was exceptionally brave. She always dressed like a boy, spoke and behaved like one too. It was as if she had forgotten altogether that she was born a girl. Once she had gone to Delhi to visit her family and, while there, visited President Rajendra Prasad. He said to her - 'There, in the picture gallery, are the portraits of the country's great leaders. Go and take a look.' She did so but did not find the one face she was looking for. She came back to the President and said, 'Babuji, most of the leaders are there, but not the greatest one of them all, the Prophet of Nationalism and Independence. His picture is missing.' He asked - 'And who is that?' The girl replied - 'Why? Sri Aurobindo, of course.' The President was quiet for an instant. Then calling his secretary he asked for one of your pictures."

Sri Aurobindo smiled.

"But, Sir, did you ever have any reason in your life to fear?"

"Does fear always have to have a reason? It's a question of the individual's temperament. It has its origin in the subconscious. Once, in Baroda, my life was in danger, but the incident did not disturb me one bit. I have referred to it in one of my sonnets."

The word 'sonnet' caused a small stir among the children. Anshu asked, "Which one?"

"It starts - 'I sat behind the dance of Danger's hooves...' - Have you read it?"

"Yes, yes, I have! Its next line goes -

'In the shouting street that seemed a futurist's whim....' "

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"Oh! You've learnt it by heart. Do you love poetry?"

"Yes, she does, very much," answered Udita. "She's always got your poetry on the tip of her tongue. Your Last Poems or lines from Savitri. Even at night, if she can't sleep, she begins to recite your poems. But, strangely enough, studies don't interest her."

Anshu looked down. Shyly she said, "Your Last Poems has very beautiful things. The language is so simple and sweet. I did not know that English could be such a musical tongue. The images and rhythms of this particular sonnet have always drawn me. I never thought about the danger you had been in."

"Why?"

"I never thought about it really. I don't understand poetry but read it because it is beautiful."

"Do you mean to say that poetry is mere imagination?"

"No, it's not that," she answered very embarrassed. "Will you please tell us about that experience?"

"It happened when I was in Baroda. I was sitting in an old horse-drawn carriage and calmly going towards the market when suddenly the horse, terrified by something, began whinnying, cutting capers. It was jumping so wildly in the air that the carriage was about to be overturned. The sound of people running and shouting from all sides frightened the poor beast even more. But while its hooves were thrashing frantically in the air, I willed that nothing should happen to me and at once the Godhead came out of me and did what I have described in the poem. And so, everyone saw me sitting calm and undisturbed. The poem describes the experience exactly."

Everybody sat listening in rapt silence. Then Sudeep very softly said - "Could we listen to the poem?"

"But I do not remember the exact words."

Immediately Champaklal jumped up, went to the book- shelf and brought the book. Such an opportunity was certainly not to be lost!

Gently smiling, Sri Aurobindo looked for the poem and

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having found it, he began to recite it in his soft voice:

"I sat behind the dance of Danger's hooves

In the shouting street that seemed a futurist's whim,

And suddenly felt, exceeding Nature's grooves,

In me, enveloping me the body of Him.

Above my head a mighty head was seen,

A face with the calm of immortality

And an omnipotent gaze that held the scene

In the vast circle of its sovereignty.

His hair was mingled with the sun and breeze;

The world was in His heart and He was I:

I housed in me the Everlasting's peace,

The strength of One whose substance cannot die.

The moment passed and all was as before;

Only that deathless memory I bore."

They all sat spellbound. What an incredibly wonderful experience to hear Sri Aurobindo recite with his chaste English accent - something to treasure in memory ail their lives! On the way home, the children exchanged thrilled comments with one another.

"Did you mark the perfect English accent?"

"What a voice, deep and sweet at the same time! Every word was distinct."

"Yes. And the rhythm that upheld the lines touched my very soul. I didn't know recitation could be so beautiful, having heard only our own poor attempts!"

The next evening Sri Aurobindo turned to Kriti and remarked: "What is the matter? Why the sweet secret smile?"

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The girl's laughter then rippled forth, .unable to contain itself any longer. The others looked at her embarrassed at such lack of respect before the Lord. But he continued to look at her smilingly. Finally she said:

"When we returned to the hostel last evening we told our friends about your recitation. Immediately they pounced on us, asking, 'How was it? We'd like to hear it too.' And then, Rahul began to recite, trying to imitate your voice and tone. Though he spoke rather slowly, his rendering had neither the true feeling nor even the articulation. In fact, it was hard not to laugh."

"Perhaps he wasn't serious. But then, recitation in English is not easy, particularly for us Indians. A clear, smooth expression, distinctly articulated and without sentimentality - we're too emotional a race for this."

"Exactly. Some recorded readings of poetry that we have heard sometimes seemed to us so flat, hardly expressive recitations. They sounded just like plain readings. That is because, as you say, our perception of feelings is different. Did you do a lot of reciting in your early years?"

"Only the compulsory poetry recitation in school. Nothing else. But there I heard others read poetry. Yes, I spoke a few times in the debating club, but that was more a reading out of my prose essays."

"Essays on what?" asked Jones.

"Literature, quite often. A schoolboy is hardly qualified to discuss politics! No, the purpose of the debates was to discuss the plays and poems of Shakespeare and others."

"At that early age! Goodness! We have next to nothing to say about things like that!"

"That is because you are not taught to do so. On the other hand look how well you sing and dance and act in plays. I am sure if I were asked to do these things you would all laugh!" {Laughter)

Sudeep had a question:

"There is something I would like to know. In that poem of yours about the horse-carriage, it is evident that the Divine

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was with you, but without your calling Him or praying to Him, He came to your rescue."

Sri Aurobindo smiled as he explained, "The Divine is always with us, whether we know it or not, believe it or not, and He acts always for the best. So what if we do not pray to Him or even believe in Him? He is there all the same. At the time of the incident in Baroda, I myself did not believe very positively in God! But He doesn't react like human beings, you know, and say - 'Why should I help you, since you have no faith in me?' Besides, I willed that nothing should happen to me."

"If the Divine acts as you say, then how do dangers and difficulties come into our lives?"

"That is a very complicated matter. I would have to explain the whole of The Life Divine to you in order to give you a satisfactory answer. For the present, let me tell you that our life here is a battlefield of many opposing forces which you may describe" as divine and anti-divine or asuric powers. The poor human being is a mere puppet in their hands. But though he may be a puppet, there are certain factors that cannot be overlooked, such as the weight of his past Karma, his free-will and so on. Hence, it is the combination of all these complex forces that will tilt the balance for the individual here. If, for example, you walk on the path of truth, if your mind is preoccupied with pure thoughts, then naturally the divine powers will lay their claim on you. This, in short, is the general law. But life is far too complex to be subjected to the influence of any one law. In your case, there is accompanying each of you, a power of the Divine Mother, what one may call an emanation. Through it, the Mother remains in constant contact with you, and protects you from all danger and difficulty. That is why I have said: 'Always behave as if the Mother was looking at you; because she is, indeed, always present.' So you see, on the one hand, the Divine seemed to have turned His face away from me and my brothers during the many months of our stay in England when we were starving, we

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had fallen behind with the payment of our school fees, and the hope of pursuing farther studies at Cambridge or Oxford seemed so bleak. Later, even the old lady with whom we were living till then left us stranded. On the other hand. He saved me from certain death in Baroda. Sri Ramakrishna used to say - 'Do not try to understand the Lord's ways, your fate will be like that of the small figure made of salt which thought it could measure the ocean. As soon as it entered the water, it ceased to be!' {Laughter) He used to also say - 'Not a leaf moves without His will.' What do you say to that?"

"What did you do after your quarrel with the old lady?" asked Rinku.

"That is when our life as strangers in a foreign land really began. Until then we had lived under the wing of Mr. Drewett and his family. Now we were like fledglings who were made to leave the nest. Fortunately for us, it happened during the school holidays and we immediately left for the Lake District."

"The Land of Lakes?"

"Yes. Wordsworth's birthplace. Haven't you read about it in his works? You must have heard about his sister Dorothy and his friend Coleridge."

"Of course we have. Coleridge who wrote the 'Ancient Mariner' - isn't that so?

'The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free,

We were the first who ever burst

Into that silent sea.'

"What marvellous poetry! And his 'Kubia Khan' too is very beautiful. We've heard that the Lake District is a wonderful place. Something like our Kashmir?"

"Yes, you may say so.

"In the daytime we wandered around in that lovely country, climbing hills, skirting tarns and streams, lying in.

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the shade of spreading trees.

"Sometimes, Manomohan would be so carried away by all the beauty that he would burst into loud declamations of poetry!"

"What did you do the whole day? Where did you live?" questioned Sachet.

"Oh, there were small cottages nearby, proper houses, not huts made of mud like those we have here. There were farm-houses too which, for a nominal fee, took in tourists and visitors. The three of us stayed in one such cottage. We would leave every morning after breakfast and return home late in the evening around nine or ten o'clock. It wasn't dark then because in summer the days are very very long in the northern countries."

"So, you ate nothing the whole day?" asked Amal with concern.

"Of course we did! Either we carried our lunch with us - hard-boiled eggs and sandwiches, or we dropped in at some farm-house for bread and milk. We had no problem with food. Off we would go in the morning walking along river banks which had hundreds of red tulips and gold daffodils glistening in the fields. You know that poem by Words- worth, don't you - 'I wandered lonely as a cloud...'? Well, we found ourselves in the same countryside and were equally thrilled. Especially Manomohan, he would often climb the hills, singing aloud his own compositions, or blithely jumping into mountain streams...."

"Didn't you swim?"

"We didn't know how to, no one had ever taught us. Don't forget that we had left home as three small boys and had been wandering on the other side of the world ever since. I remember, on one of our rambles in the Lake District, Manomohan's foot slipped and he fell into a deep pool out of which he managed to climb only after drinking much water! Another time, the three of us were walking along in the gathering darkness of late evening. Mano, as usual singing and reciting poetry to himself, had fallen back.

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When Benoy and I came across a deep ditch in our path, we both shouted out to him asking him to be careful, since he seemed completely lost in his own world of poetry. But the louder we called out to him, the more loud became his singing! Finally we stopped and waited for him to catch up with us."

"He loved poetry very much, didn't he?"

"Enormously. Some of his English friends were poets and together with them he even published a book. You may say that it's from him that I have caught the contagious fever called Poetry: He would spend whole days lying underneath shady trees, reading aloud or composing poems. But this way of life could not last. Our holidays had to come to an end. One misty morning - I haven't told you, have I, how suddenly fog and mist or a continuous fine drizzle could unexpectedly come down and cover the lakes glistening in the early morning sunshine - well, as I said, one morning we packed our bags and started back for London, never dreaming that I was about to face one of the hardest tests of my life."

"It is very hard for us to imagine you. Sir, as a young boy, just like one of us, laughing and playing as we do!" said Rohit.

"Do you mean to say that I was a sage from birth, another Kapilmuni well-versed in all the sciences and Scriptures from the beginning? Or would you prefer to think of me born as a Hebrew prophet, old and solemn, with flowing hair and beard?" (Laughter)

"No, not quite so, but we have been told that you were always terribly grave and reserved, something like Shiva. Of course some of the notions were proved incorrect when we read your correspondence with Nirodda. In fact, it's that book that has given us the courage to chat like this with you." (Laughter)

"So, what did you do On your return to London?" asked Pooja.

"Well, the three of us went to the brother of a friend of

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Father's. His name was James Cotton and he was truly a gentleman. He was rather surprised to see us. We introduced ourselves and recounted to him our tale of woe. He listened to us very attentively, and seemed shocked and pained. Then, after a while, he said, 'I believe I can make arrangements for you to stay at my club until I hear from your father. The eldest of you three can help me in my work for which I shall pay him five shillings a week. Is that all right?' "

Vinit asked, "Just five shillings?"

"Five shillings today may not be worth much, but in those days they were as good as five pounds today. But, of course, we who were accustomed to getting two pounds a week each were now about to receive only five shillings for the three of us. It was certainly not an easy transition."

"But if he was wealthy, he could easily have helped you more, since you really were in dire straits."

"Maybe he could have. But, then, the western temperament is very different from ours. It is very independent, and believes that each individual must fight his own battle. In fact, it is by combating difficulties and poverty and pain that man becomes great. It is this attitude towards life that has helped the west to the preeminence it has acquired today. Anyway, now at least we had found a place to sleep, so after thanking Mr. Cotton we went to his club. Later, it was this same Mr. Cotton who wrote on my behalf to the British government so that I might be selected for the I.C.S. The club was situated in one of the most fashionable parts of London - South Kensington - where one found all the big offices and the great homes of the rich. We were very pleased to know that we were to live in such elegant surroundings, but that was before we found out what it was like to live in a club! Every evening the members would gather there and their tipsy talk and loud guffawing would go on till late in the night. Unfortunately that was the only time which we could devote to our studies. We also discovered that clubs were the nerve-centres of British political

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and social life. Those gentlemen wore the masks of culture and refinement in their homes and removed them in their clubs where they felt free to be themselves. It has always been so, right from the time of the Mermaid Tavern, then the Coffee Houses of the 18th century to the age of Dickens, who describes this in his works. The club is to the English- man what the salon is to the French. So, it was in such a place of raucousness that we lived. As for me, before I finished my school studies I appeared for the I.C.S. entrance examination and won the scholarship which would qualify me for King's College, Cambridge. By then we had grown up sufficiently to understand that Father must be' facing severe financial difficulties at home and that all our monetary problems could largely be solved if we passed the tests successfully."

"How old were you then?"

"Fifteen or sixteen."

"So young?"

"Not so young after all. In the west, children mature sooner, perhaps due to the education they get. When the youngsters of our country are still tied to the ends of their mothers' saris the youths over there are already set to make their own way through life. That was just one of the reasons why Father was such an admirer of western culture and wanted to turn us into replicas of Englishmen. That Father later stopped sending us money was also perhaps, part of the same plan - to teach us to become independent, and I cannot deny that he achieved his aim."

"But how did the three of you live on five shillings a week?" questioned Rinku in amazement.

"We had to manage, that's all. Not that it was easy, it wasn't", especially since the change in our life-style came so abruptly, after so many years of comfortable living. But one can adjust to any situation if one has to."

"What did you eat and drink?"

"We ate cheap sandwiches and drank tea. For two years, we could afford no winter coats, no fire in the grate. My

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brothers were a little concerned about me, but I possessed a trait which was greatly to my advantage - neither food nor clothing ever preoccupied me. In fact, I would often forget to eat if I was absorbed in my books. Even the noise in the club did not affect me then. Poor Manomohan was different. Sometimes when he could not bear to live in those conditions any longer, he would dash off a letter to his friends, or he would end up writing poetry!" {Laughter)

"So you were a Yogi even at that early age?"

Sri Aurobindo said with a smile, "Is that all it takes to be a Yogi?"

"We have heard that once there was a terrible cyclone in Pondicherry and your room was flooded but you never noticed it, so absorbed were you in your writing!"

"Yes, there are many other stories about me which say that I live on air, or that I am always plunged in deep meditation or that I can levitate at will! (Laughter) Of course it is true that when I sit down to write, I do forget about everything else."

"We have also heard that once when a cyclone was raging over the town, sweeping away trees and houses, the Mother entered your room to find it filled with a vast and concrete peace. It was as though the terrible Dance of Death dared not enter there. Is it true?"

"Well, if the Mother has recounted it, then it must be true."

"But can the power of peace be felt only during a storm or a cyclone? Not otherwise?"

"Why should it not?"

"But I cannot feel it."

Sri Aurobindo said, "First of all, you must become like the Mother."

"But, Sir, who really is the Mother? Though we call her the Divine Mother, I don't very well understand what that means."

"You will, gradually. Love her with all your heart, and ask her to explain this mystery to you. She will make

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everything so luminously clear to you that, in the words of the Gita, it will be chhidyaté hridayagranthi, bhidyaté sarva- sangshaya, as if all the most secret knots in the mind were cut asunder and all the deepest doubts and hesitations dissolved. No other explanation can have a more profound effect on the being."

"Nirodda once told us in class, about the intensity of your concentration." Everyone turned round to look at me.

"What did he say?"

"He told us how, on a very hot summer day, he found you sitting up, writing. Maybe it was the revision of The Life Divine. And though the table-fan was whirring nearby, Champaklalji and Nirodda found that when you had finished writing, you were wet all over. Even the bedsheets were wet with your perspiration. But you seemed completely unaware of it as you sat there smiling angelically."

"Really? He has exaggerated it, I think! Does he tell you these things in class?"

"Oh no, he is very strict. We plead with him so often to tell us stories about you. He does so sometimes, but only when in the course of a lesson something relevant comes up, then we get little illuminating bits of information - for instance, you hardly ever read books and never 'think' any more."

"That is true. I stopped with thinking long ago- with the realisation of Nirvana."

"Then how did you write so many books?"

"All that I have written in my books is the fruit of my experience, it is not based either on book-knowledge or any external information or the process of thinking things out. All wisdom, peace, bliss, power, everything is forever lodged here." Sri Aurobindo raised his hand above his head. "Below it is a covered receptacle. If you manage to take off the lid you will find knowledge pouring down in a shower of golden light. You follow?

"Speaking of golden light reminds me of something that once happened to the French author, Rousseau. One day he

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