Chapter 10 Chapter Eight Theft and Atonement

During this meat-eating period and some times before it—probably around the time of marriage, I made other mistakes that should be mentioned. A relative and I have both developed a smoking habit.We don't smoke because it's good, we don't like the smell of cigarettes, we just think it's a fun thing to smoke.My uncle had this habit, and when we saw him smoking, we wanted to follow his example.But we had no money to buy cigarettes, so we secretly picked up the cigarette butts discarded by our uncle and smoked them. Cigarette butts aren't always available, though, and there aren't many good ones to smoke.So we started stealing the servants' pocket money to buy Indian cigarettes.But the problem is: where to put the bought cigarettes.Of course we can't smoke in front of our elders.This stealing of money to buy cigarettes continued for several weeks.At the same time we heard that there was a plant with many small holes in the stalk which could be smoked, so we started to smoke it again.

Yet these things are far from satisfying us.We began to feel sad about not being free.Not being able to do anything without the permission of our elders makes us intolerable.In the end, we got so bored that we decided to commit suicide! But how to commit suicide?Where can we get poison?We've heard that fenugreek is an effective poison.We went to the jungle to look for it, and we found this Hanako.We thought it best to do things at night.We went to the Kedaji Temple, put ghee on the magic lamp, paid homage to the altar, and then we wanted to find a secluded corner to commit suicide.Yet our courage waned.What if we can't die all at once?What are the benefits of suicide?Without a little freedom, why not?Although, we still swallowed two or three flower seeds.We didn't dare to eat too much, we were both a little afraid of death, so we decided to go to the Ramoji Temple to calm down and get rid of suicidal thoughts.

Only then did I understand: Suicide is easy to think about, but hard to do.And since then, when I heard people shouting about suicide, I was rarely moved or completely indifferent. The idea of ​​suicide finally got rid of the bad habit of both of us smoking cigarette butts and stealing the servant's change to buy cigarettes. I haven't had the urge to smoke ever since I was an adult.I always thought smoking was barbaric, dirty and harmful.I have never understood why there is such a smoking craze in the world.I can't bear to travel in a car where everyone is smoking, I can't stand the atmosphere.Worse than this theft, however, was the one I committed not long after.I stole pocket money when I was twelve or thirteen—probably younger.When I was fifteen, I committed another theft.This time I stole a little gold from the bracelet of my meat-eating brother.He was then in debt of about twenty-five rupees.A bracelet on his hand was pure gold, and it was not difficult to get a small piece off.The gold did come down, and the debt was paid off.But this time I couldn't take it anymore, and I made up my mind not to steal any more.I was also determined to confess to my father, but I dared not interview him.I am not afraid of being beaten.No, I don't remember him ever hitting us, and I'm afraid it's going to cause him pain.But I felt that I must run a risk; I thought that no real repentance could be made without a frank confession.Finally, I decided to write a confession letter to my father and beg his forgiveness.I wrote a note and handed it to him myself.In this note, I not only admitted my guilt, but also asked for appropriate punishment. Finally, I asked him not to blame himself for my fault.I also swore never to steal again.

I handed the letter of repentance to my father with trembling hands.At that time, he was suffering from fistula and was trapped in the hospital.His bed was just a bare plank.After I handed him the note, I sat opposite him. When he had finished reading, tears streamed down his cheeks, and even the paper was wet.He closed his eyes and thought for a while, then tore up the note.He was sitting while reading the confession, and then he lay down again.Seeing the pain in his heart, I couldn't help crying.If I were a painter, I could still paint the whole scene at that time today.It is still very vivid in my memory.

Those pearly tears of love cleansed my heart and washed away my sins.Only those who have experienced this kind of love can understand what love is.As the hymn says: Only those who have been wounded by the arrows of love know the power of love. For me, this was a physical lesson in "non-violence".At that time, I thought it was just a kind of paternal love, but today I understand that it is pure "non-violence".When this "non-violence" includes everything, everything changes.Its power is unlimited. This supreme forgiveness did not come naturally to my father.I thought he was going to get angry, berate, and hit himself in the face.Yet he was so uncommonly calm, which I believe was due to my confession of repentance.A confession of repentance, with a promise never to repeat it, is indeed the purest form of confession when it is made before one who has a right to receive it.I know that my repentance made my father feel absolutely safe in me and increased his love for me infinitely.