Good One - II

[Guest guest]

"Many a man with herculean strength has

nonetheless been terrorized into abject helplessness before

the onslaught of a royal Bengal. Thus the tiger has

converted the man, in his own mind, to a state as nerveless

as the pussycat's. It is possible for a man, owning

a fairly strong body and an immensely strong

<br>determination, to turn the tables on the tiger, and force it to

a conviction of pussycat defenselessness. How often

I have done just that!"<br>I was quite willing to

believe that the titan before me was able to perform the

tiger-pussycat metamorphosis. He seemed in a didactic mood;

Chandi and I listened respectfully.<br>"Mind is the

wielder of muscles. The force of a hammer blow depends on

the energy applied; the power expressed by a man's

bodily instrument depends on his aggressive will and

courage. The body is literally manufactured and sustained

by mind. Through pressure of instincts from past

lives, strengths or weaknesses percolate gradually into

human consciousness. They express as habits, which in

turn ossify into a desirable or an undesirable body.

Outward frailty has mental origin; in a vicious circle,

the habit-bound body thwarts the mind. If the master

allows himself to be commanded by a servant, the latter

becomes autocratic; the mind is similarly enslaved by

submitting to bodily dictation."<br>At our entreaty, the

impressive swami consented to tell us something of his own

life.<br>"My earliest ambition was to fight tigers. My will

was mighty, but my body was feeble."<br>An

ejaculation of surprise broke from me. It appeared incredible

that this man, now "with Atlantean shoulders, fit to

bear," could ever have known weakness.<br>"It was by

indomitable persistency in thoughts of health and strength

that I overcame my handicap. I have every reason to

extol the compelling mental vigor which I found to be

the real subduer of royal Bengals."<br>"Do you think,

revered swami, that I could ever fight tigers?" This was

the first, and the last, time that the bizarre

ambition ever visited my mind!<br>"Yes." He was smiling.

"But there are many kinds of tigers; some roam in

jungles of human desires. No spiritual benefit accrues by

knocking beasts unconscious. Rather be victor over the

inner prowlers."<br>"May we hear, sir, how you changed

from a tamer of wild tigers to a tamer of wild

passions?"<br>The Tiger Swami fell into silence. Remoteness came

into his gaze, summoning visions of bygone years. I

discerned his slight mental struggle to decide whether to

grant my request. Finally he smiled in acquiescence.

"When my fame reached a zenith, it brought the

intoxication of pride. I decided not only to fight tigers but

to display them in various tricks. My ambition was

to force savage beasts to behave like domesticated

ones. I began to perform my feats publicly, with

gratifying success. "One evening my father entered my room

in pensive mood.<br>"'Son, I have words of warning.

I would save you from coming ills, produced by the

grinding wheels of cause and effect.'<br>"'Are you a

fatalist, Father? Should superstition be allowed to

discolor the powerful waters or my activities?'<br>"'I am

no fatalist, son. But I believe in the just law of

retribution, as taught in the holy scriptures. There is

resentment against you in the jungle family; sometime it may

act to your cost.'<br>"'Father, you astonish me! You

well know what tigers are—beautiful but merciless!

Even immediately after an enormous meal of some

hapless creature, a tiger is fired with fresh lust at

sight of new prey. It may be a joyous gazelle, frisking

over the jungle grass. Capturing it and biting an

opening in the soft <br>throat, the malevolent beast

tastes only a little of the mutely crying blood, and

goes its wanton way.<br>"'Tigers are the most

contemptible of the jungle breed! Who knows? my blows may

inject some slight sanity of consideration into their

thick heads. I am headmaster in a forest finishing

school, to teach them gentle manners!