During Kirtan time one night the Master saw a visitor suddenly crush a scorpion with the butt of his torch.
After Kirtan he asked the person why he killed the creature.
"It stings people," replied the visitor.
The Master retorted, "By killing one scorpion are you able to save people from the stings of scorpions of which there are millions all over the world? To kill this creature it took you only a few seconds, but can you give its life back again? When you have no strength to give back life to the dead, what right have you to take life from the living? You are the worst kind of scorpion. The scorpion has poison only in its tail, but you have poison all over the body; you are full of hatred, anger, pride and other evil qualities. You should be crushed now!"
The visitor was taken aback and promised the Master that he would never kill a creature again.
It was October 4, 1948. "What a nice cottage! Is it for meditation purposes?" wondered a visitor, gazing as he was in the direction of the Master’s dwelling, beyond which on the river bank stood a small shed.
"No, no, it is not a cottage in the sense that you take it to be. I shall explain it to you," said the Master, and took the visitor along. And what was there inside? An old, emaciated bull in a dying condition.
"My God!" exclaimed the visitor.
"Yes, you have just said it," put in the Master. "It is your own God. Don’t you see your God in this bull, too?"
Two Ashramites were there tending to the bull. In the evening the poor creature died, despite all attention, and under the Master’s instructions was consigned to Mother Ganges with Maha Mantra Kirtan.
A bull in a dying condition, a dog with an ulcer on its head, a crow mauled by a monkey—they all found a ready helper and sympathiser in the Master. No creature was too mean to merit his attention.
Sri N. Ananthanarayanan
To be continued ...