FAR BELOW flowed the Jumna, swift and clear, above frowned the jutting bank. Hills dark with the woods and scarred with the torrents were gathered around. Govinda, the great Sikh teacher, sat on the rock reading scriptures, when Raghunath, his disciple, proud of his wealth, came and bowed to him and said, 1 have brought my poor present unworthy of your acceptance.' Thus saying he displayed before the teacher a pair of gold bangles wrought with costly stones. The master took up one of them, twirling it round his finger, and the diamonds darted shafts of light. Suddenly it slipped from his hand and rolled down the bank into the water. 'Alas,' screamed Raghunath and jumped into the stream. The teacher set his eyes upon his book, and the water held and hid what it stole and went its way. The daylight faded when Raghunath came back to the teacher tired and dripping. He panted and said, I can still get it back if you show me where it fell.' The teacher took up the remaining bangle and throwing it into the water said, It is there.'
IF THERE is nothing but pain in loving then why is this love? What folly is this to claim her heart because you have offered her your own! With the desire burning in your blood and madness glowing in your eyes why is this circling of a desert? He bankers for nothing in the world who is in possession of himself; the sweet air of the spring is for him, the flowers, the bird songs; but love comes like a devouring shadow effacing the whole world, eclipsing life and youth. Then why seek this mist that darkens existence?
