21. How sweet and tempting is sugar cane

Once our family was performing the Kali Puja, the festival of Mother Kali. At that time I was about seven years old. Many sacrifices were offered. The most important was the sacrifice of a live goat. Someone would hold the legs of the animal tightly while the head was placed at the other end of the scaffold. For the sacrifice to be successful, the priest had to perform the sacrifice with one stroke of his sharp scimitar. If the priest failed on the first stroke, it was said that the devil’s doings would befall the family that was performing the Puja.

After the sacrifice of the goat, it was customary that fruits also be sacrificed to Mother Kali. In this case also, to make the sacrifice successful, the priest had to cut these fruits in half with only one stroke of the scimitar. Then he would fling the fruits out to the spectators, and the lucky ones would catch it.

Soon came the time for the sugar cane sacrifice. The cane was placed on the scaffold that had held the goat and the fruits. The top portion of the sugar cane has a few leaves and is not edible, but the main body of the sugar cane plant is most delicious.

I noticed that some of my friends, who had been standing near the top portion of the sugar cane, had quietly moved around the back of the audience to the other side so that they could now stand near the other end of the altar. They knew that the body of the sugar cane would be flung in their direction.

The priest had grasped the scimitar in both hands and swung it back above his head, even extending his hands behind his head in order to get better leverage for the final thrust necessary to perform the job successfully. Just as the priest was beginning to swing, I jumped over the scaffold. In the nick of time, the priest halted his reflex and turned the scimitar back.

A wave of panic swept those who were watching. I had escaped by a hair’s breadth from a great calamity! Had the priest not been able to stop his swing, I would have been in the other world! Fortunately, the Divine in the priest had immediately endowed him with the life-saving skill.

My father approached me in a calm and quiet manner and embraced me with both arms. There was not a trace of worry or anxiety in his face — only tranquil joy streaming forth.

My father then took the priest aside and said, “You have saved my son’s life. Whatever reward you want I shall immediately give you — money, property, or anything else I have, I shall give you here and now.”

The priest, still trembling from the experience, cried out, “Reward! What reward? I have saved my mentor’s dearest son! What greater joy can there be on earth?”

Sri Chinmoy, Awakening, Citadel Press, Edinburgh, 1988