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126
Journey into Jainism
The Value of Monkhood
A little boy named Thaavaacha Putta was standing atop his home and enjoying the natural beauty of the landscape when a sweet melody from a neighbouring house reached his ears. Curious of its nature, he went to his mother and asked her what it was and what was its significance. His mother told him that the songs were a part of a celebration to welcome a newborn child.
"Were such songs sung at my birth also?" Thaavaacha Putta asked.
"Yes, my dear," his mother answered. "Songs more in number and sweeter than these too."
"Mother, I feel almost as if I have never stopped hearing them."
"Go and listen to them then, my son."
Thaavaacha Putta went back to the roof and listened to the singing. The songs, however, were not as pleasant then. They were harsh and shrill and filled him with a sense of uneasiness. Again he ran to his mother and asked, "What has happened to the songs, Mother? Why are they no longer sweet but strident? Are they being sung by some other person?"
"No, son, the same person singing, but--" "Why, then, are they different than before?"
"The circumstances have changed," she answered.
