Nimai Eats Dirt # 8

8

When Nimai was a baby, the neighborhood ladies would constantly visit him. They delighted in the company of this wondrous child, whose beauty brought joy to their hearts. For them, it was always an opportunity to chant "Hare Krishna" in an enchanting atmosphere.

Nimai, on the other hand, had developed the habit of crying whenever people gathered around him, only to stop as soon as they began chanting "Hare Krishna." His little face would then light up with a captivating smile. All the women knew this playful quirk of his and took great delight in participating in his game.

As Nimai grew, he became increasingly mischievous. His vivid imagination brought everything around him to life. In the neighborhood, everyone only talked about him. As soon as he learned to walk, he was found poking around everywhere and teasing the younger children. Despite his rowdy temperament, people always gathered around him for fun. Though still a child, his sharp and precocious intelligence often rivaled that of adults: sometimes with innocent remarks, and other times, with a hint of mischief, he would teach them a lesson.

One day, for example,  Sachidevi, longing for her son’s company, wondered where he might be. She searched the entire house and the front yard but couldn’t find him. “I told him to stay close in a tone that should have left no room for disobedience,” she thought. “He’s already caused me enough trouble today! But where could he have gone now?” she grumbled to herself. With these thoughts, she headed to the back of the house.

There, off to the side, is a refuse heap where old clay bowls and plates used for meals are discarded. Over time, the leftovers form a mound that the sun scorches with its burning rays. Often, a crow or a cow can be seen picking at the last scraps, peels, and husks before the blazing star consumes them entirely. Absentmindedly, she heads in that direction, her mind preoccupied with the same nagging questions.

The scene before her leaves her dumbfounded: her boy, perched atop the mound, is chewing on the broken earthenware, his face smeared with dirt. She swallows hard, trying to make sense of it: “There’s so much good food in the kitchen, and I just gave him a big bowl of sweet rice!”

Her indignation erupts: “What are you doing, Nimai? Why are you eating dirt?”

She abruptly snatches away what he’s munching on and thrusts a finger into his mouth to remove the dirt. “Naughty boy! Why are you indulging in such mischief? You should understand these things at your age!”

But Nimai, first startled by his mother’s unusual outburst and then frightened, begins to cry. Through sobs, he protests: “Why are you upset? Didn’t you yourself give me earth to eat? What is milk or rice if not a transformation of the same earth? Through the workings of time and the transformations of energy, matter takes on various colors and shapes, but everything we see around us is just earth!”

She is left speechless! “How can he reason like this at his age? Where could he have learned such things? This jargon stems from an atheistic concept, and no one in our family entertains such notions — we are all humble servants of Lord Krishna.”

She decides to approach the matter differently and temper her reaction. She realizes that in front of her stands not just her beloved toddler but a little prodigy who dares to argue with her. She must, with both tact and love, correct this sophistry.

"Nimaï! Where did you hear such things? What you’re saying is nonsense and can only harm you, because if you eat raw earth, you’ll fall ill, and if you persist, it could kill you. For example, if you want to drink water, I have to pour it into a pot, which is a crafted form of clay; only then can you enjoy it. But if I were to pour that water onto the bare ground, it would scatter everywhere, and all my effort would be wasted, as you wouldn’t be able to benefit from it in that state."

After listening attentively, Nimaï replied, "But why did you not teach me these truths earlier? Then, I would not have been misled by such fantasms. Now that I understand, I will not repeat it. And, in truth, I much prefer to drink the milk you give me with so much love." Having said these words, he threw himself onto his mother's lap and buried his face under her sari.

A serene smile lit up Sachidevi's features, while her gaze seemed to drift into deep reflections, an echo of boundless maternal love and a silent understanding of the mystery that surrounded her. ■

Preceding chapter # 7: Astrological Predictions
Next chapter # 9: The Adventures of a Visiting Brahmana