29-8-86, Amdavad. Swamiji had sat down for lunch. Of the various vegetable dishes and eatables before him he selected a few morsels and started eating from his wooden bowl. As with everyday, in the kitchen the serving sadhus quickly prepared small, soft chapattis and served them to Swami one by one. Swami encouraged conversation with a sadhu before him. Thus, lost in small talk the sadhus failed to notice that Swami was only nibbling at his food. A sadhu brought in a hot chapatti. He gently removed its slightly thick brown edges, tore the soft center of the chapatti into small pieces and placed them into Swamiji's bowl. Swamiji only looked up. After three to four minutes, the sadhu returned with another chapatti. He carefully tore it into pieces.
As he leaned over to put the pieces into the bowl, he noticed that the former chapatti had remained untouched. He quickly removed the chapatti and replaced it with the hot one. "What are you doing?" Swami questioned. "Serving you a chapatti, Swamiji," the sadhu mumbled a reply. "Then why did you take one out from my bowl?" "Because it was cold and I had a hot one." The sadhus had stopped talking. They anxiously watched the scene before them. Swamiji was slightly irritated. "Listen," Swami spoke quickly, "I do not mind whether they were hot or cold." The sadhu returned to the kitchen, and Swamiji again induced a conversation. For one who is eternally immersed in the Lord verily transcends matters relating to the palate. To him the pleasures become a troublesome irritation. And eating becomes a menial chore. |
