{"id":4324,"date":"2013-07-13T01:55:12","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:55:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=4324"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:55:12","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:55:12","slug":"29-apendix-the-family-vol-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/02-works-of-the-mother\/01-cwmce\/02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02\/29-apendix-the-family-vol-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","title":{"rendered":"-29_Apendix_The Family.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n
\n

\n
\nFifteen <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n


\nThe Family
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\nA<\/font><\/span> traveller
\nin <\/span>Morocco<\/span> noticed that in the evening when the
\nflocks of ewes and the flocks of lambs were brought together after having been
\nseparated all day, the good creatures ran eagerly here and there as if they
\nwere looking for something. In fact, each ewe was looking for its lamb, each
\nlamb was looking for its mother. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>A monkey had young ones and she loved them,
\nbut her love was like a fountain, giving drink not only to her own children,
\nbut pouring out on all. She found other little monkeys and was kind to them.
\nNot only that, she took puppies and kittens with her as if she had adopted
\nthem. And when she had food to give, she shared it between her own little ones
\nand the ones she had adopted. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nmother bird sits on her eggs to keep them warm and the father bird goes in
\nsearch of food for her and her brood. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\ngorilla of <\/span>Africa<\/span> lives with his mate and his offspring as
\na real family. Chimpanzees do the same and the father makes a rough nest in a
\ntree to shelter the mother and her children, and he watches through the night
\nto protect his family from the prowling leopard. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>If
\nour animal kindred can show affection for their young and protect them, it is
\nno wonder that even primitive men form groups or families consisting of a man,
\na woman and children. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>When does the mother begin to love her child?
\nAt the beginning of his life. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>When does the child begin to love his mother?
\nNot at the same time. First he must learn to feel, to think and act. Then he
\nlearns to love his mother and his father as well. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>We
\nare told about a little girl of seventeen months who ran to meet her father
\nwhen he returned after a few days’ absence, and stroked and kissed his face and
\ngave him all her toys. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span>Page – 257<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>People are always happy to receive gifts. We
\nread in the history of the Muslims that Caliph Mamun<\/span>
\ngave his wife a golden carpet on which he poured a heap of pearls; and after
\nher ladies had each taken a pearl there still remained a sparkling pile of
\nthese precious gems. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>And
\nwhat does the mother give to her child? She gives him good health, straight
\nlimbs, the power of speech, the power to love what is right. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>For
\nif a mother neglects her child, his health will suffer, his legs will be
\ncrooked, his tongue will not speak good words and he will not learn to behave
\nwell and think well. And are not all these gifts infinitely more precious than
\na golden carpet and many pearls? <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nmother who gives these beautiful presents to her child feels that her own life
\nis in her son or daughter. And just as her heart is full of joy when her child
\nis well, so it is full of sorrow when he is sick or when he dies. Listen to the
\nvoice of a mother in a Tamil song: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>He lives in my heart; where has he fled? <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0         <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Who has taken my idol of gold? <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0       <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>In a pretty voice he called me Amma<\/span>, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0       <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I have never seen such a pretty face, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0      <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>He played gracefully on my lap, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0     <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>His father lifted him up with delight, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0     <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>On his brow were the lines of good fortune, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0      <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Oh, evil on the evil eye that looked at him! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0      <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Stay, my child, or let me go with you, <\/span><\/i>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 258<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0      <\/span>Alas, my child, my child! <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Come back, come back, do not leave me alone, <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0     <\/span>Alas, my child, my child!   <\/span><\/i> <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\ngood father’s heart also lives in the life of his child and is wounded by his
\ndeath. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>How
\ncruelly Mohammed suffered when he lost his little son Ibrahim<\/span>.
\nThe old books say that the child died at the age of fifteen or sixteen months. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>But
\nthere is a very famous play called Hasan<\/span> and Husain<\/span> in which Ibrahim<\/span> seems
\nolder. In this play, Azrael<\/span> the Angel of Death comes
\nto Mohammed’s house and asks for the child. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI
\nbeg,\u201d says the Prophet in deep distress, \u201cthat he may stay with me until
\ntomorrow.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>So
\nthe angel waits a little. And just then the little boy’s voice is heard at
\nschool, reading these words from the Koran: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI
\nfly unto Allah for refuge from the evil one. In the name of Allah the
\nAll-Merciful, O thou soul who art at rest, return unto thy Lord well-pleased
\nand well-pleasing, enter among my servants and enjoy my paradise.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>How
\nsweet to the ears of Mohammed is the voice of his child! <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>How
\nsweet to parents are the voices of boys and girls who repeat their lessons! I
\nshall not describe the rest of the scene of Ibrahim’s<\/span>
\ndeath. I only wish to tell how his mother Mary watches over him lovingly, how
\naffectionately his sister Fatimah<\/span> speaks to Ibrahim<\/span>, how Husain<\/span>, the Prophet’s
\ngrandson, places the child’s head on his lap, and how his father weeps when Ibrahim<\/span> is no more.  <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Do parents only love bright and clever
\nchildren? No, their arms enfold them all. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>One
\nday I went into a village shop. The father, a cobbler, was nailing a sole on to
\nan old shoe. The mother was cleaning <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 259<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

the kitchen. They paused in their work to speak to me about their
\nson. The poor boy was almost dumb. I could not understand what he was saying,
\nbut his parents knew the meaning of his inarticulate cries. He had so little
\nreason that he could neither dress nor feed himself alone. His parents had to
\nwatch over him all day lest he should hurt himself or hurt other children. They
\nhad done this for seven or eight years; and they loved him in spite of all this
\ntrouble. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>In
\nthe Ramayana the poet speaks of the father’s love for all his children: \u201cThe
\nfather has a number of children, each different in temperament and character.
\nOne is a student, another a teacher who fasts, another a doctor, another a
\nsoldier, or a skilful worker, or a monk. The father feels the same affection
\nfor them all. Another, who may be very slow to learn, is yet devoted in word,
\nthought and deed to his father, and this is the son whom the father loves as
\nhis own soul.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\ndear mother has eyes that see more deeply than other eyes. She will often see
\nthe gift and the skill of her child where others see nothing. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Thus Queen Kausalya<\/span>,
\nthe mother of Rama, had a vision of her son’s glory. For one day he was changed
\nin her eyes. The moment before he was a small child, and suddenly ten thousand
\nstars shone on every hair of his body, suns and moons glittered on his limbs,
\nand around him were high mountains, rivers, oceans, and many lands, and all the
\npowers of Nature were gathered upon the wonderful boy. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Joining her hands in prayer, the queen said
\nnot a word. With closed eyes, she knelt at his feet until he resumed the form
\nof a little child. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>We
\nhave seen that parental love exists in a simple way in animals, that the father
\nand mother love their child from the beginning of his life, that they love him
\nwhether he is healthy or sick, clever or deficient, and that the mother
\nespecially has a penetrating eye which detects the good qualities of his soul.<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 260<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nfamily is something very precious to mankind. It is the true home. For neither
\nwood nor stone nor the cloth of a tent nor the marble of a palace make a home,
\nbut the love that unites young and old in the family just as the hen gathers
\nher chicks under her wings.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

A pious Muslim used to kiss his mother’s
\nfeet every day before going out to join his companions. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>One
\nday he arrived late and they asked him why. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI
\nlingered with pleasure,\u201d he said, \u201cin the gardens of <\/span>Paradise<\/span>, for I have heard that <\/span>Paradise<\/span> lies at the feet of the Mother.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>It
\nis also written in the book of Al-Mostatraf<\/span> that when
\nMoses spoke with God, the Most High uttered 3500 words. At the end of the
\nconversation, Moses said, \u201cO my Lord God, give me a rule of conduct.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nLord replied: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI
\nbid you be good to your mother.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>These words were repeated seven times, and
\nMoses assured him that he would remember them. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Then the Lord added: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cYes, Moses. When your mother is happy with
\nyou, I am also happy, and if she is angry, I am angry.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nlove of the mother and father expresses itself to the child in charming words. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>An
\nArab woman caressed her child and said, \u201cI love him as the miser loves his
\nmoney.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>But
\nif the parents’ love goes out towards the child, will not the child’s love go
\ntowards his parents? <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Shall we not return love for love? <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>There are countless sons and daughters all
\nover the world who lavish affection on their good parents and help them. It
\nwould need a book bigger than all the books written by the poets <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 261<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

of <\/span>India<\/span> to tell of all the affection shown by
\nchildren to their fathers and mothers. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Here I shall tell you only of one of these
\ncountless examples. It is a story from ancient <\/span>Greece<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Old
\nKing Oedipus was blind. He had offended the gods and had to lead the life of a
\ntraveller wandering from village to village, from town to town. Kind folk would
\ngive him shelter and food, but no one could give him back his sight. And who
\nwas to lead him from place to place? Who but his daughter Antigone? She guided
\nhis steps along the roads; she begged the strangers whom they met to take pity
\non him. She carried his messages. When Antigone left him for a moment, old
\nOedipus was sad. Great was his joy when she returned; and when he touched her
\nhand again he said: <\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

    I have all <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>That’s precious to me; were I now to die <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>Whilst you are here, I should not be unhappy. <\/span><\/i> <\/span><\/p>\n

At
\nlast the gods looked kindly on him. He felt that the time had come for him to
\ndie, but he was to go to the dwelling-place of the Shining Ones. Blind as he
\nwas, he made his way alone to a valley surrounded by high rocks. There he took
\na bath and dressed himself in fine garments. A clap of thunder was heard. And
\nold Oedipus disappeared from sight. He had joined the gods. Antigone wept at
\nhis departure: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>Oh, I was fond of misery with him: <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>E’en<\/span> what was most
\nunlovely grew beloved <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>When he was with me. <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>He
\nhad indeed lived in misery, but how much more he would have suffered if he had
\nnot been comforted by his daughter’s love.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>We
\nhave spoken of the love of parents for their children and of children for their
\nparents. If someone asked you what makes a family, what would you reply?<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 262<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I
\nasked a child the other day and he replied, \u201cTwo.\u201d He meant the husband and the
\nwife. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I
\nasked another child and he replied, \u201cThree,\u201d thinking of the father, the mother
\nand the child. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>And
\nyet we can see that the family is very often larger than these three. Suppose,
\nfor example, that there are four: father, mother and two children. Then a new
\nidea, a new friendship comes into play, the friendship of brother and sister.
\nIn this friendship, we do not look up, as to a parent, or down, as to a child.
\nWe are attached to a friend who is more on our own level, who is in a way our
\nequal, or nearly our equal in age. And so brotherly affection adds a new gem to
\nthe wealth of the household.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>When Rama returned to the city of <\/span>
\nAyodhya<\/span> with his bride Sita of the lotus eyes,
\nhis brother Lakshman shared in the joy. Tents were set up for entertainments,
\nthe streets were planted with mango, betel-nut and banana-trees. The bazaars
\nwere bright with flowers and drapery; flags waved; drums rolled; all kinds of
\nmusic played sweetly. People cheered, \u201cRama, Rama!\u201d and Rama’s<\/span>
\nheart was happy. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>And
\nso was the heart of Lakshman; brother shared the joy of brother. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>A
\nday came when the sky of life was clouded and no music was heard. The old king
\nof Ayodhya had made known the terrible decree that Rama must go into exile for
\nfourteen years. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>When Lakshman heard this cruel order his body
\nshook with sorrow, his eyes filled with tears; he ran and kissed Rama’s<\/span> feet, and for a moment he could not speak a word. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cBrother,\u201d said noble Rama, \u201clet not your soul
\nbe troubled. All will be well in the end. You cannot come with me. You must
\nstay in Ayodhya to help my father and the people.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cNo,\u201d replied Lakshman, \u201cno, my brother, not
\nso. I am devoted to you alone. I tell you with all my heart that where <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 263<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

you go, there I too must go.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Then Rama raised up his brother, embraced him
\nand said: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cGo
\nand say farewell to your mother, and then come with me to the forest and to
\nexile.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>And
\nLakshman was full of joy. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Brothers and sisters protect each other. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>In the
\nBhratridwitiya<\/span> festival, sisters in Hindu families
\nmark the foreheads of their brothers with sandalwood powder, give them
\nsweetmeats and if they can, a gift of cloth. In this way they hope to ward off
\nthe coming of Yama, the Lord of Death. And they recite: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>On
\nmy brother’s brow I have made the mark, <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>On
\nYama’s<\/span> door the bolt has fallen. <\/span><\/p>\n

It is not sandalwood but love that
\nprotects and blesses, the love of sister for brother and brother for sister.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>But
\nwe can widen the limits of the family and include in it the dear grandparents,
\nthe uncles and aunts and cousins. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>We
\ncan widen it still further. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>I
\nmean the men and women who are not of the same blood as the family, but who
\nhelp in the house by washing, cleaning, cooking and in many other ways. I mean
\nthe servants. They also form part of the family. In ancient Rome, when a
\npatrician spoke of his family, he was not thinking only of his wife and
\nchildren, but also of his slaves. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Let
\nme tell you a scene from the play Hasan<\/i><\/span> and Husain<\/span><\/i> which is so much admired by the Muslims of
\nPersia. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Noble Husain<\/span>, who
\nwas killed on the battlefield of Karbala<\/span> in
\nBabylonia, was about to fight his last combat. All his comrades of war were
\nslain. He stood alone like the last palm-tree standing in an oasis. The women
\nof his family were mourning their dead and also Husain<\/span>,
\nwho was surely about to die at the hands of the enemy. <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 264<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>One
\nby one he bade farewell to all, to his wife Umm Lailah<\/span>,
\nto Zainab<\/span> his sister, to his other sister Kulsum<\/span> and his daughter Sukainah<\/span>.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>An
\nold negress<\/span> approached the great captain. \u201cMaster,\u201d
\nshe said, \u201cmy heart grieves at the thought that I shall be separated from you.
\nI am very old and I have nothing more to live for. I wish only one thing:
\nforgive me, I beg you, for all the faults I have committed. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Husain<\/span>, the warrior in his coat of mail, who in a few short
\nhours would lie martyred on the plain of Karbala<\/span>,
\nlooked gently at the old negress<\/span> and said: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cYes, you have served us a very long time. You
\nhave toiled at the household tasks for my mother. You have threshed the corn.
\nHow often you have rocked me in your arms! Your face is black, but you have a
\npure white heart. Today I shall leave you. I owe you many more thanks than I
\ncan count. I beg your forgiveness for any action which may have been
\nthoughtless or unkind.\u201d <\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>But
\nwe have not yet found out how wide the family circle is. Are there not other
\nservants, both two-footed and four-footed, who add to the pleasure of the home?
\nAre there not birds who entertain us with their chirping and singing? Are there
\nnot pets who play in our rooms and domestic animals who work for us on our
\nfarms? Should not animals, the tame helpers, be counted as members of the
\nfamily? <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nwhole world knows that the people of India are friendly with the animals who
\nlive in the same land. But they are not the only ones who have kindly feelings
\ntowards our brothers the animals. In the North where the sea is frozen into
\nthick ice and the ground is nearly always white with snow, lives a people known
\nas the Eskimos. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>In
\nthis land, a white or polar bear once saved the lives of three men. They had
\nfallen into the sea and had caught hold of <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 265<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

a bear as he swam, and he carried them to the shore. They were
\nvery grateful and wished to repay their debt. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cThank you,\u201d said the bear, \u201cI don’t need
\nanything for the moment. But if ever you are out hunting with other men and you
\ncatch me, would you please ask them to spare my life? You will recognise me by
\nmy bald head.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>So
\nsaying, he dived into the sea and swam away. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Next winter, the Eskimos of the same tribe saw
\na bear on the ice and set off in pursuit. Among the hunters were the three men
\nwhose lives had been saved by the bald-headed bear. They discovered that it was
\nthe same animal. They begged their companions to leave him alone. What is more,
\nthey prepared a good meal for him and spread it out in front of him on the ice.
\nHe ate heartily and lay down on the ice to sleep; no one harmed him and the
\nchildren played around him without fear. When he awoke he went down towards the
\nsea, dived in and swam away. The Eskimos never saw him again, but they always
\nremembered their friend the bear.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>So
\nin our idea of the family let us include father, mother, child, brother,
\nsister, grandparents, servants, and the animals that help man. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Of
\ncourse, the ways and customs of families are not the same in every country of
\nthe world. You will find it interesting to hear from travellers<\/span>
\nor read in books or learn from your teachers about the family customs of <\/span>Japan<\/span>, <\/span>China<\/span>, <\/span>Persia<\/span>, <\/span>Egypt<\/span>, <\/span>Europe<\/span> and <\/span>America<\/span>. And you will find many differences. But
\nin all of them, love rules in their hearts and affection is the law. It may
\nhappen that the members of a family do not love one another, but then they are
\nnot a true family. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>A
\nman may act in an inhuman way, but then he is not a true man. <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 266<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

Rangananda<\/span><\/span> and his father <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>In
\nthe year 1831 a twelve-year old Hindu boy knocked at the door of the district
\njudge of Chittur<\/span>. He was the son of a farmer who had
\nbeen put in prison for not paying his rent. The farmer had taken some
\nGovernment land, but the harvest failed and under the law which was then in
\nforce, he had to go to prison. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>While the father was in jail, his birthday
\ncame and the mother wept because he could not be at home. That is why his son Rangananda<\/span> ran to Chittur<\/span> and
\nknocked at the judge’s door. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\njudge listened to the boy’s story and said: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cI
\ncannot let your father go unless I have some security, some pledge that he will
\nreturn to finish his sentence.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cWe
\nhave no money,\u201d the boy replied, \u201cbut I shall be the pledge myself and I shall
\nstay in prison in my father’s place.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\njudge’s heart was touched. He signed an order for the father’s release. Swift
\nas a deer, Rangananda<\/span> ran to the prison. Father and
\nson joyfully set out for their home and reached it that night. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Rangananda<\/span> was later known as Rangananda<\/span>
\nShastri<\/span>. He could read and speak fifteen languages.  <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The white elephant (A
\nfable) <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>A
\nherd of 80,000 elephants roamed the jungles of the <\/span>Himalayas<\/span>, led by a mighty white beast whom they
\nwere proud to acknowledge as their king. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nking’s mother was blind. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>If
\never he wandered with the herd into remote parts of the forest, he still had
\nloving thoughts for his mother and sent her messengers with fruit. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Alas, the messengers ate the fruit themselves
\nand the loving gifts never reached the blind mother. When he discovered this <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 267<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

deceit the king resolved to leave the herd and to feed and protect
\nhis mother himself. So he led her to a cave in <\/span>Mount<\/span> <\/span>Chandorana<\/span><\/span>, near to a lake, and they lived together
\nin peace. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>One
\nday a man from the city of <\/span>Benares<\/span> lost his way in the jungle and wandered in despair for seven
\ndays. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nelephant-king knelt down and invited the lost man to climb on to his back; then
\nhe took him to the path which led to <\/span>Benares<\/span> and showed him the way. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Alas, the man’s heart was wicked. He told the
\nKing of Benares what a fine white elephant was to be found in the <\/span>
\ncave<\/span> of <\/span>Chandorana<\/span><\/span>, and the King sent him with many helpers
\nto catch the royal elephant. The hunters saw the white king standing in a lake.
\nThey seized him and he did not resist, they took him to <\/span>Benares<\/span>. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nblind mother was sad when her son did not return. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cAh,\u201d she sighed, \u201cthe frankincense tree still
\ngrows and the Kutaja<\/span>, grass and ferns, lilies and
\nbluebells; but my son, where is he?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nwhite elephant was in a stable all bright with flowers, and the King himself
\ncame to feed him. But the elephant would eat nothing. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cMy
\nmother is not here,\u201d he said. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cCome, come,\u201d said the King of Benares,\u201deat<\/span> and let us be friends.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cAh, the poor blind one mourns in the <\/span>
\ncave<\/span> of <\/span>Chandorana<\/span><\/span>.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cWhom do you mean?\u201d asked the King. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cMy
\nmother mourns for me.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>So
\nthe King commanded his people to set the elephant free, and the great creature
\nran swiftly away from the city into the jungle; he drew water from a pool,
\nhurried to the cave and showered his blind mother with the cool water. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>She
\ncried, \u201cIt is raining! Alas, my son is not here to take care of me.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u201cMother,\u201d he said, \u201cit is I, your son. The
\nKing has sent me home.\u201d <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 268<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
\n

<\/span><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Then they were happy together. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>The
\nmother died and was burnt, and in time the white elephant also died. The King
\nmade a stone image of him; and from every part of <\/span>India<\/span> people gathered each year for the
\nFestival of the Elephant. <\/span>
\n
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage – 269<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Fifteen   The Family   A traveller in Morocco noticed that in the evening when the flocks of ewes and the flocks of lambs were…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[123],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4324","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-02-words-of-long-ago-volume-02","wpcat-123-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4324","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4324"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4324\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4324"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4324"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4324"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}