How A Young Man Avoided Romance


The Sacral Chakra

Once upon a time, there was a young man. He might have been me, Guptananda. This young man was filled with all the sensations of a young male animal in spring. He felt an inner jauntiness, which makes young men seek the company of young women and not just for their company.

This young man had been brought up very carefully and properly by his father and mother. He knew what he should do and what he should not with regard to young women. He knew full well that one thing leads to another, a look to a sigh to a touch and so on, and he did not feel ready for commitment. So, in general, he simply avoided looking. On this occasion, however, it was a beautiful spring day, not too hot, and he was free for the whole day. He wanted to go off and explore, but he had a yearning in his heart for company. Walking down the road and wondering how to satisfy his yearnings, he encountered Tara, a black-eyed beauty whom he had known for many years. Now Tara happened to be free too on this day, so the pair decided to spend the day somewhere along the riverbank. Tara had always admired our friend, but he had never taken much notice of her. He had always thought her rather brash. Not his sort at all really, but she was funny and witty and would provide a listening ear for his verbal meanderings.

As they walked along, he saw a different look in her eye, a look that seemed to grow in intensity, a look of adoration and longing which was being directed at him. It kindled a fire within him, which made it quite difficult to follow his train of thought. After a while he fell silent and the two of them continued along the path. Every so often she brushed her hand against his and he felt a tingling sensation rush through his whole body. This was strong stuff, this was a heady brew, but in the back of his mind he knew that he did not even like the girl very much. He heard his father’s voice saying to him:
“Do not waste your energies on women you do not love. It can lead to much pain and suffering.”

He broke a branch from an overhanging bough and, as they sat watching the river running by, she laughing and joking and fluttering her eyelashes at him, he whittled at the wood, making a beautifully decorated piece. Finally she tired of her chatter and he having turned his sacral* stirrings into a different form of creativity, produced a gift for his mother on his return home.

His mother looked at him quizzically as he handed the wood to her. ‘But what shall I use it for?” said she.
“Just wave it at me on my free days and I will remember how to spend them productively and without regret!” replied the thoughtful youth.