A Searing Heart Having heard Panchali even in what appeared to them as a wakeful state, Sarasvatichandra and Kumud experienced divine bliss. Late into the night Kumud went down and slept on the middle floor, while Sarasvatichandra slept on the platform. Kumud woke up early next morning and came to Sarasvatichandra. She stood there quietly for a while and then softly said, ‘Sarasvatichandra wake up, it is morning.’ He did not move. She bent down and placed her hand over his forehead. She was about to say something when he woke up, and Kumud withdrew her hand. ‘Kumud, I saw my mother in a dream. She had placed her hand over my forehead and was about to say something when I woke up.’ Kumud smiled and said, ‘Last night I thought to myself that I shall have to fill your mother’s place to the extent possible. I kept my hand on your forehead, and you thought it was your mother’s. It is an auspicious beginning. Now that Chandrakantbhai will soon be here with you, you will remember your—no, our—family even more.’ Sarasvatichandra: ‘I will either remember them more or forget them even more. I think I should finish my bath and go down to receive him.’ Kumud: ‘Of course.’ Sarasvatichandra was about to say something when they heard voices from below. He looked down and saw Chandrakant along with three ascetics approaching the cave. ‘Kumud, Chandrakant is here!’ Sarasvatichandra exclaimed joyously.

‘You were late; his love made him walk faster. I shall, with your permission, join my companions, and you should go and receive him. Please do not take my name in presence of others. You can tell him about me when the two of you are alone.’ Kumud went away. Sarasvatichandra went down the steps. He heard the familiar greeting, ‘Nandko Nandan ek anand det hai!’ Sarasvatichandra and his companions went out to receive Chandrakant. They moved towards each other in haste, their eyes glued on each other as their feet carried them forward. They almost jumped at each other in joy. Chandrakant held Sarasvatichandra in a tight embrace. His tears bathed his friend’s shoulder. ‘Is it you, my dearest, whom I see in this plight?⁵²¹ Sarasvatichandra! Sarasvatichandra! What is this? You—reduced to this!’ Chandrakant almost shouted. He stood back to look at his friend, weeping without control or restraint. His face withered. He said to his companion, ‘Bavaji, this is indeed my friend. He cannot hide behind these robes, not from this heart. Sarasvatichandra, what is this?’ Sarasvatichandra’s eyes had brimmed over with tears. His voice broke, ‘Chandrakant, these merciful ascetics have given me a new body, a new life to my soul and a new companion. We will have all the time to talk about all of this. These ascetics are not common mendicants found seeking alms among our people. They are the last repositories of the light of the ancient sages and seers, of Buddha’s monks who lived and moved among the people spreading his light.