When I was thirteen years old, I rendered this story into two hundred lines of rhyming Bengali verse. Timidly and devotedly, I submitted this poem to the Mother of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Out of her infinite compassion for me, the Mother gave it to Sri Aurobindo. In a few days’ time, at four-thirty in the afternoon, I was on my way to the volleyball ground. One of Sri Aurobindo’s dearest attendants, Mulshankar, stopped me and said, “Chinmoy, Nirod is reading out to Sri Aurobindo your long poem and Sri Aurobindo is smiling.”
When I heard this, I was in the seventh heaven of delight! A few hours later, Nirod-da sent for me and returned the poem. He told me that Sri Aurobindo had remarked, “It is a fine piece of poetry. He has capacity. Tell him to continue.”
Last August I was inspired to set this poem to music and today Kailash’s group has sung the song most soulfully and most powerfully. Once upon a time, a thirteen-year-old boy pleased his Master. He is now seventy-one years old, and his disciples have pleased him very, very much. In all sincerity, from my own inner vision, I am telling you that the joy my disciples have given me today with their singing is infinitely more than the joy I gave Sri Aurobindo with my poem. Their singing of the song was most excellent!
Just before Kailash’s group began, I was cycling in our meeting room. Right from the beginning, whom was I seeing? I was seeing Sri Aurobindo in the room. Then I also saw the Mother and Nolini-da. They were watching and watching from the corner on the far side of this room. They were very happy.
Only when I started walking, they became so sad. They were deeply, deeply sad at the pain I was experiencing in my legs. That sadness I cannot express in words.From:Sri Chinmoy,The power of kindness and other stories, Agni Press, 2011
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