I wanted renunciation²³

In 1951, for a few days I was thinking of sannyasa. Renunciation, renunciation — give up, give up everything! By that time I had many, many notebooks full of my poems, short stories and other writings. At around eight-thirty one night I said, “No more! These things are only for name and fame. I do not want name and fame. I do not care if people appreciate my poems; I do not want it. I want renunciation.”

The Bay of Bengal was less than a hundred metres from our house. I said to myself, “Now it is eight-thirty. Before my brothers come back, I will become a real renunciate.” The idea had come, so I took about twenty notebooks and I came out of my room to throw them into the Bay of Bengal.

There was a main gate that was huge and very heavy. We needed a key to open it on both sides. As I approached the gate, I was so happy that I was going to renounce my name and fame.

My brother Chitta usually used to come home at around nine-thirty or a quarter to ten. He was in the Ashram, praying and meditating. On this occasion, as soon as I opened the main gate, whom did I see? My brother Chitta! On that day, instead of nine-thirty or ten, he happened to come back at eight-thirty. I thought that, before he came back, it would all be over! He grabbed me and scolded me. Then I said, “I do not want name and fame.”

Chitta said, “All right, you do not want it, but I want name and fame for you! ” He grabbed all twenty of my notebooks and brought them back. If he had not appeared, today I would have been without those twenty notebooks.

That divine or foolish idea of renunciation came to me. Because of my brother, today I still have those notebooks. My brother usually came home at nine-thirty, or sometimes even at ten o’clock. But on that day, at eight-thirty he happened to appear! If he had come a minute or two later, by that time I would have reached the Bay of Bengal and all my notebooks would have disappeared.

I went through all kinds of experiences. My life is full of aspiration, renunciation and also some peculiar experiences.

It was God’s Will for my notebooks to be saved. Otherwise, would my brother have come home at eight-thirty on that day? There was no rhyme or reason for his early arrival. He said, “A voice within me was telling me that something was going wrong, something very serious was happening.” Something very serious was happening in my life: that was my brother’s feeling, so he came home to see what was wrong. How can I forget this experience!