A farmer named Shankar lived in a village. He was simply a poor man. Work from your work, neither in taking nor in giving. The six did not know their own. He was not even touched by the deception.
No worries about being cheated. Wadda knew. When he got food, he ate it. When Char Bin was not found, he took water and slept in the name of Ram. But when a guest came to the door, he had to give up the path of istighna. Especially when a simple person used to come, he had to resort to worldly things. He himself could sleep hungry, but how could a sadhu sleep? Run away from their devotees.
One evening a Mahatma came and knocked on his door. There was glory on his face. Pita Mir in the throat, Jata on the head, Brass command in the hand, Standing on the feet, Spectacles on the eyes. Poora Bhes is the companion of the Mahatmas who eat delicious food in the palaces of Rusa, for meditation, for circumambulation of temples on windmills, and for perfection in yoga. How did he feed the flour in the house? In ancient times barley may have been of some importance, but in modern times barley has become too heavy and slow for the people to digest. I was very worried about what to feed Maha Tamaji. Finally decided to borrow wheat flour from somewhere. Wheat flour was not found in the whole village. All the people in the village were men, there was not a single god, how could the gods get happiness? Fortunately, a little wheat was found in the village. He also borrowed wheat from them and asked his wife to give him money. Mahatama ate. He slept for a long time and took his way in the morning promising Asher.
But he used to take food twice a year. Shankar said in his heart, "What can I return except wheat?" I'll give you some more food in exchange for the cheese. They will also understand, I will also understand. When he reached Wahatji in the chat, he was given wheat near one and a half panseri and did not mention it as he considered himself a subconscious. Prohat ji never asked again. Does Syed Shankar know that I will have to be born again to taste this wheat?
Seven years have passed. Prohatji became a Mahajan from Brahman. Shankar hired a farmer. Her younger brother separated from her on Tuesday. Living together, the two were farmers, separated and became laborers. Shankar did not want the fire of hypocrisy to burn. But the situation forced him. When the stove burns, he bursts into tears. From today, brothers and sisters will become enemies. One will cry, the other will laugh, there will be sorrow in one's house, then gargle will be cooked in another's house. The love affair, the milk affair is broken today. He worked hard and planted this tree of family honor. He was drenched in his own blood, his heart was torn to pieces without seeing it uprooted. For seven days he did not even see the grain. He worked all day in the Jethro sunshine and slept at night. This agony and unbearable pain burned the blood, melted the flesh and fat. When he fell ill, he did not get up for four months. How are you doing now Half of the fields of five bighas are left, one ox is left. What a dusty field. In the end, it was the turn of agriculture to be left in name only. The whole burden of livelihood fell on wages.
Seven years have passed. One day when Shankar returned after doing his work, Par Vhatji interrupted and said, “Shankar, come tomorrow and calculate your seed bank. How long have you had five and a half quintals of wheat left over and you don't even mention giving? Intended to digest? "
Shankara said in amazement, "When did I take wheat from you when it was half past five?
Prohat, "If you are enjoying this fruit of the same intention, it is not connected to food."
On this saying, Vahatji mentioned other wheat which he had given to Shankar seven years ago. Shankara was silent on hearing this. How many times have I fed them? What did they do to me? When Poothi Patar used to come to see the clock, to save the omen, he would take something with him. So selfish Except for the whole grain, it made the ghost stand like an egg. Which will swallow me up If he had said even once in so many days, he would have given wheat. Did you remain silent with the same intention? He said, “In the name of Maharaj, I have not given so much grain, but many times I have given Sir Sir, Dodosir in the field. Now you ask for five and a half manas today, where will I give it? ”
Prohat, "wrote Jo Jo Jo. بکسیس سوسو۔ There is no reckoning of what you have given in the field. Even if you give four pansirs instead of one, five and a half manas are written in your name. Do whatever you want. Give it to me, I will cut (cut) your name, otherwise it will continue to grow. "
Shankar, “Panda! Why bother a poor person? I have no place to eat. Whose house will I give so much wheat to?