Pocket Tales

The Honeycomb in the Mountain

GITANJALI MURARI A fictional narrative based on incidents from the childhood of Swami Vivekananda.

The long train journey was at last over. “But now comes the difficult part,” warned Bhutnath De, Vishwanath Datta’s business partner, “we must travel for another two weeks through dense jungles before we finally arrive at Raipur.” Turning to Naren, he added, “I’ll lead the way in my cart and you bring up the rear...is that alright?”

“Oh yes Uncle,” Naren’s face flushed with excitement, “it’ll be an adventure!”

A month ago, Vishwanath Datta had shifted from Calcutta to Raipur. “The new project will take two years to complete,” he had told his family before leaving, “as soon as I find a good house, I’ll send for all of you…Bhutnath will accompany you and bring you safely to me.”

“What about my school, Baba?” Naren had asked anxiously. Vishwanath Datta had laughed, “New experiences are great teachers, son…you will get a unique education.”

Travelling alone in the last bullock-cart, Naren gazed up at the blue sky through the lattice of leaves. Butterflies flitted about and occasionally a white cloud sailed past. In the distance, the undulating line of the Vindhya range became visible. The path narrowed and soon the mountains loomed on both sides. Covered with dense forests, they shone greenish-gold in the sunlight. Streams sparkled amongst the trees, wild flowers and fruits scented the air, and colourful birds skimmed overhead, chirping sweetly. “Can’t we stop here awhile?” Naren asked the driver. “No, no,” came the firm reply, “these forests are full of wild beasts...we must be out of here before the sun sets.”

Just then, the convoy reached a sharp curve and slowed down. Naren looked up. Two mountain peaks met each other in a loving embrace, forming an arch high above the path. As he passed under it, Naren examined this natural bridge and gasped. A fissure spanned the length of one mountain and inside it nestled a gigantic honeycomb, filling the entire space. “What a grand kingdom,” Naren exclaimed, “the bees must have taken years to build it…how beautifully it fits inside the rock!” “Indeed,” the driver nodded, “nature is full of surprises.” Gazing at the remarkable beehive, Naren marvelled at God’s infinite love for his creation. An inexpressible peace washed over him. The more he reflected on the power of God’s pure love, the higher his mind soared, until losing awareness of the outer world, he entered a realm of extraordinary bliss.

The cart lurched and Naren sat up. The tall mountains had given way to rolling hills. Much distance had been covered while he had been immersed in heavenly joy. How he wished to recapture it! Noticing a cave, he clambered off the slow-moving cart. “Where are you going?” the driver yelled in alarm but Naren hurried on, impelled by an unseen force.

“Hoy, stop,” the driver called out to the cart ahead, “the boy has gone to that cave… somebody needs to fetch him fast.” Naren’s brothers looked at each other. What could dada be up to now? “I’ll go,” Mahendra announced and quickly got down.

On entering the cave, he found his older brother sitting cross-legged on the rough ground, his face radiating joy. “Dada,” Mahendra rushed forward and Naren opened his eyes. He tried to speak, his eyes aglow with a mystical light, gazing at something beyond ordinary human vision. “Dada,” Mahendra said again, this time a little frightened. Naren shook himself out of the trance and smiled. Catching his brother’s hand, he walked out into the sunshine. His new education had begun.

When you see a beautiful scenery …the vision … brings you to a blissful state of the mind; it tones down all the friction in your soul, it makes you calm, almost raises you, for the time being, beyond your mortal nature and places you in a condition of quite divine ecstasy. — Swami Vivekananda