The Monk !

During my morning walk at a vast playground,  I noticed cooking happening in one corner — the aroma of a delicious khichdi filled the air. The cooks were two monks.

Seeing the monks, I paused my walk, eager to have a morning satsang (spiritual conversation). I bowed respectfully to the elderly monk. 

In a blessing gesture, he asked, "Would you like some tea?"

I politely declined.

He asked, "What else is the news?"

I replied, "All is well. I just felt drawn to spend a little time in your company." 

"What do you do?" he asked.

With slight hesitation, I answered, "I am a journalist."

His eyes gleamed.  "Then you must be earning a lot !  Probably even more than your official salary," he said.  He seemed to know more about my profession than I did.

Then he kept talking — about how much influence various political leaders had, how much money they controlled, how many henchmen they commanded, and so on. His deep concern for worldly matters — comparing leaders and politics instead of the soul and the Supreme — left me disheartened.

I bowed again, quickly preparing to take my leave. 

Nearby, a simple but wonderful meal of khichdi was being served on a fresh banana leaf.

As I walked away, reflecting on the fruitlessness of the morning’s satsang, a thought crossed my mind —

"It is not enough to merely renounce the world outwardly; true renunciation must come from within the mind."