<p>‘Govinda’s Disciple', a poem by Rabindranath Tagore, tells us a remarkable story. Govinda, a great guru, is seated on the riverbank. His disciple, Raghunath, draws near and presents him with a pair of gem-studded gold bangles. As the teacher twirls one round his finger, it slips and falls into the river. Raghunath jumps in to retrieve it but returns, wet and weary, after a fruitless search. When the devotee pleads with his master to show him where the bangle landed, the latter throws the other one into the river saying, ‘There it is.’ </p>.<p>The conclusion comes as a shock. How, we wonder, can someone discard such a generous gift? A few words in the second stanza help us to comprehend the climax. Although Raghunath refers to his offering as ‘unworthy of acceptance’, we are told that he is ‘proud of his wealth’. The lesson for him and for us is that we should not become too attached to earthly treasures.</p>.<p>This, of course, is easier discussed than done. We tend to gravitate towards material things that are often procured at considerable expense. Besides, many a time, a lot of hard work goes into providing the means for necessities, let alone luxuries. It is natural, therefore, that we prize our acquisitions.</p>.<p>Our possessions, however, are not as precious as people. Cornelia, who lived in ancient Rome and was famed for her virtue, had her priorities right. One day, she called upon a woman of her acquaintance, who took the opportunity to display her collection of rubies and diamonds. ‘Is it true that you have no jewels?’ the lady asked Cornelia, looking pityingly at her unadorned visitor. Cornelia drew her two young sons to her side and said simply, ‘Here are my jewels.’ </p>.<p>A few years ago, I pawned several items of jewellery and feared they might be lost to me forever. They are undoubtedly valuable, but the loving concern of my friend, whose recent intervention enabled me to recover them, is priceless.</p>
<p>‘Govinda’s Disciple', a poem by Rabindranath Tagore, tells us a remarkable story. Govinda, a great guru, is seated on the riverbank. His disciple, Raghunath, draws near and presents him with a pair of gem-studded gold bangles. As the teacher twirls one round his finger, it slips and falls into the river. Raghunath jumps in to retrieve it but returns, wet and weary, after a fruitless search. When the devotee pleads with his master to show him where the bangle landed, the latter throws the other one into the river saying, ‘There it is.’ </p>.<p>The conclusion comes as a shock. How, we wonder, can someone discard such a generous gift? A few words in the second stanza help us to comprehend the climax. Although Raghunath refers to his offering as ‘unworthy of acceptance’, we are told that he is ‘proud of his wealth’. The lesson for him and for us is that we should not become too attached to earthly treasures.</p>.<p>This, of course, is easier discussed than done. We tend to gravitate towards material things that are often procured at considerable expense. Besides, many a time, a lot of hard work goes into providing the means for necessities, let alone luxuries. It is natural, therefore, that we prize our acquisitions.</p>.<p>Our possessions, however, are not as precious as people. Cornelia, who lived in ancient Rome and was famed for her virtue, had her priorities right. One day, she called upon a woman of her acquaintance, who took the opportunity to display her collection of rubies and diamonds. ‘Is it true that you have no jewels?’ the lady asked Cornelia, looking pityingly at her unadorned visitor. Cornelia drew her two young sons to her side and said simply, ‘Here are my jewels.’ </p>.<p>A few years ago, I pawned several items of jewellery and feared they might be lost to me forever. They are undoubtedly valuable, but the loving concern of my friend, whose recent intervention enabled me to recover them, is priceless.</p>