CHAPTER: 15
The Cauliflower Robbery
“Master, a gift for you! These six huge cauliflowers were planted with my hands; I have watched over their growth with the tender care of a mother nursing her child.” I presented the basket of vegetables with a ceremonial flourish.
“Thank you!” Sri Yukteswar’s smile was warm with appreciation. “Please keep them in your room; I shall need them tomorrow for a special dinner.”
I had just arrived in Puri [15-1] to spend my college summer vacation with my guru at his seaside hermitage. Built by Master and his disciples, the cheerful little two-storied retreat fronts on the Bay of Bengal.
I awoke early the following morning, refreshed by the salty sea breezes and the charm of my surroundings. Sri Yukteswar’s melodious voice was calling; I took a look at my cherished cauliflowers and stowed them neatly under my bed.
“Come, let us go to the beach.” Master led the way; several young disciples and myself followed in a scattered group. Our guru surveyed us in mild criticism.
“When our Western brothers walk, they usually take pride in unison. Now, please march in two rows; keep rhythmic step with one another.” Sri Yukteswar watched as we obeyed; he began to sing: “Boys go to and fro, in a pretty little row.” I could not but admire the ease with which Master was able to match the brisk pace of his young students.
“Halt!” My guru’s eyes sought mine. “Did you remember to lock the back door of the hermitage?”