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Updated: May 23, 2025
Divine Attention was elsewhere, however; the plodding clock covered the hours. Darkness was descending as our leader entered the door. My greeting was one of unfeigned joy. "Dyanandaji will bathe and meditate before we can serve food." Jitendra approached me again as a bird of ill omen. I was in near-collapse. My young stomach, new to deprivation, protested with gnawing vigor.
"There is something reassuring about the clink of coins." Jitendra said no more as I regarded him sternly. "Mukunda, I am not heartless." A hint of humility had crept into Ananta's voice. It may be that his conscience was smiting him; perhaps for sending two insolvent boys to a strange city; perhaps for his own religious skepticism.
Midnight was approaching. The two "Cinderellas," sent forth penniless, entered Ananta's bedroom. His face, as he had promised, was a study in astonishment. Silently I showered the table with rupees. "Jitendra, the truth!" Ananta's tone was jocular. "Has not this youngster been staging a holdup?" But as the tale was unfolded, my brother turned sober, then solemn.
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