In Dapoli taluka, by the sea, there is a small village called Ladghar. There stands a temple of a goddess. Close by, there is a place known as Tamas-Tirth. There, the water of the sea appears reddish. Before taking the goddess’s darshan, people bathe in the sea at this spot.

When Shyam was young, his mother’s joints used to ache. At that time, someone had advised her to make a vow to the goddess there. That vow was still unfulfilled. In those days, there had not yet been much progress in science. People believed that illness was caused by the wrath of gods, and so, in all sincerity, they would make vows to the deities. Now, her joints had improved. Though her strength had lessened, she could still walk about. She did the household chores as she went from room to room. Now, she decided to go to Ladghar and fulfill her vow. From Palghar, she would travel to Dapoli and then to Ladghar. In Ladghar, Shyam’s paternal aunt, Sumatai, lived.

In those days, there were no trains or buses like today. Most journeys were made by bullock cart. Shyam arranged for a bullock cart from Dapoli. Mother came from Palghar to that place. She woke up early in the morning. The luggage was loaded onto the cart. The two of them sat inside, and the cart set off. It was a journey of three hours. After twelve years, Mother was leaving Palghar and stepping outside.

They both sat in the cart. It was early morning. Everything was quiet. The sound of the bells around the bullocks’ necks was sweet to the ears. The breeze softly blew. Shyam lay with his head on his mother’s lap. Mother ran her hand through his tangled hair. Shyam’s hair felt rough to her fingers, so she asked, “Shyam, haven’t you put oil in your hair?” But where was Shyam in this world now? He was lost in that peaceful atmosphere. He did not even register his mother’s question. This was the first time that he and his mother were traveling together like this. In his mind, dreams of happiness fluttered. He imagined himself studying a lot, growing up, and filling his mother’s life with joy. Shyam did not answer, so after a while, she asked again, “Shyam, why don’t you answer? Are you still not asleep?” “Mother, you are caressing me. When your hand passes over my body, I feel everything,” Shyam replied. Mother truly began to gently pat him. She started to hum softly. By now, the forest had awakened. The mynas were calling. The whole road passed through dense woods. Many enchanting, captivating sights could be seen, but Shyam still lay with his eyes closed. Mother sang a lullaby, her lips close to his ear, and he suddenly sat up. The lullaby was like this— In this dense forest, Clear, pure water flows. In my Shyam’s life, May God dwell. “Shyam, why did you get up? Aren’t you asleep? My lap