Sitting on the sandy bank, I gazed into the cloudless blue sky. There, a hawk, wings extended, soared the airways. His reddish-brown feathers shone in the sun as the hovered lower and lower, till he was just a few yards above my head, his glistening yellow eyes intently scanning the river. Suddenly he plunged headlong into the Ganges. There, a frantic underwater skirmish ensued until he emerged with a flapping fish, about a foot long, pierced in the grip of his talons. Squirming desperately, the fish was carried overhead and into a nearby forest. Looking on I reflected:

The unsuspecting fish, who knew nothing but a life in the river, went about its routine like any other day, but in an instant was ripped out of its reality to meet with death. Like that fish, we routinely live our lives hardly aware that, at the least expected moment, the yellow-eyed hawk of fate in the form of crises, tragedy, or even death, may wrench us out of our comfortable environment. We regularly hear of it in the news or see it around us but rarely take seriously that it could happen to us. Perhaps the lesson here is to guard against complacency and give higher priority to our spiritual needs. If the fish swam deeper, the hawk would not be able to reach it. Similarly, if we go deeper into our connection to God, we will find an inner reality so deep and so satisfying that it lifts the consciousness to a place where we could deal with the effects of unforeseeable fate with a stable, detached mind.

On the bank of the three rivers, in the blazing summer heat, there was not a soul to be seen, so I left my few belongings on the riverbank and entered the water. after bathing, I was hit by a wave of enthusiasm to stay in as long as possible. After all, I didn't know if I would ever come to this magical place again. I ventured to swim across to the other side. It was about a hundred yards wide. The flow of the Ganges was forceful, the Yamuna gentle. As I swam, the force of the Ganges swept me to a bank where there was nothing an no one to be seen. I pulled myself out of the water and stepped onto the sandy bank. To my horror, I found myself being swallowed, seized by a power that sucked me downward.

Quicksand! It had appeared to be just like the soft sand I often slept on. But looks could be deceiving. Frantically, I struggled for my life, but in spite of my strongest endeavors, I sunk deeper and deeper. Already, my body had been sucked down past my knees, and I was gradually sinking deeper. Mustering all my strength, I quirmed doggedly, in vain. Mother Earth was literally devouring me.

I scanned all directions for help but found nothing. And then to my left I caught sight of a leafless bush. WIth a desperate lunge I grabbed on to it as my single hope of survival. It was thorn bush. Gripping it tightly, I yanked with all my might. With bleeding hands, tugging and tugging on that thorny branch, I struggled to free my legs. Under the blazing sun, I squirmed for dear life. The razor-like thorns pierced my hands. My blood flowed from burning wounds. But what choice did I have? I could accept the agonizing pain, or surrender to the sands and an ignoble and ghastly death. Gasping in fatigue and soaked in sweat, I would somehow pry on leg free, only to have it sucked down again. With my next tug, the thorn bush with its rotted roots, sprung out from the sand. I silently screamed. Letting go of the useless branch and exhausted by my frenzy, I took a deep breath and relaxed. Amazingly, I discovered that if I was calm and quicksand was less aggressive. I laid my torso flat on the sand and found that I could almost float in that position. It was not a solution but it did give me some time. Inch by inch, in slow motion, I raised my legs. Finally, at a snails pace, I wormed my way back into the river.

I was free, or so I thought. Now all I had to do was swim across Yamuna’s mild current. But that meant challenging the mighty current of the Ganges head on. No matter how hard I swam, Mother Ganges kept forcing me back toward the quicksand. Exhaustion was threatening to overtake me. I could no longer fight against the current. I toiled feverishly, but still I was moving backwards. My arms were fatigued almost to the point of paralysis; still I strained to keep body and soul engaged in a battle I was not winning. My destination was so distant I could barely see it. Struggling for survival, I prayed.

Suddenly, hope appeared. About two hundred feet ahead, a small fishing boat passed. There on the deck stood a shriveled man with a white beard wearing a red turban. Still chopping against the current, I screamed out to him again and again for help. will he hear me? I continued crying out for help as my strength faded. Finally, he spotted me. smiling, he waved his hand in a forward direction. Then, still smiling, he glided right past me, leaving me to drown.

Involuntarily swallowing more and more water, I now lost all hope. Even as my hopes died, I thought, It is better to drown in a holy river than suffocate in that quicksand. The same Ganges who, in Rishikesh, had taught me so many precious lessons and nourished me as a mother, to whom I offered my egotism in the form of my harmonica, and whose song awakened my soul, to her I now offered my life. Prayer was the only thing I had left.

Then something wonderful happened. Submerged under water, on the verge of death, a beautiful song awakened in my heart:

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare

Just as the Ganges first revealed this mantra to me, she was revealing it again at the hour of my greatest need. Silently reciting this mantra, I resigned myself to die in a holy place. The mantra brought me into a state of peace beyond fear. Then, like the rising sun, a thought appeared in my mind. I thought, why did that fisherman wave his hand forward? What did it mean? Suddenly, I understood. He was saying, “Do not fight against Mother Ganges. Go across her current by swimming with the current of the Yamuna.” In my passion to survive, I’d not thought of that. That fisherman’s wave saved my life.

As I was carried across the Ganges, I was seized by worry once more. I had left my passport and whatever little I carried alone on the other side of the river’s bank. Now I was swimming in the opposite direction. Would my things be there when I returned? And then it occurred to me. Why brood over such a trifle? Moments before, death was threatening my life and with only the passport of God’s Names I crossed over and was saved. Hours later, when I made it back to the other shore where I had left my things, evening was beginning to fall and hundreds of people were scrambling to take a bath. My belongings sat in their midst, unmolested.

Surrounded by the noisy crowds, I sat on the sandy bank. In the morning, I thought:

The sand scorched me like blazing fire, and later, was greedy to devour me. But now the same sand is cool and soft and gives me shelter. Like sand, a person influenced by circumstances can become viciously envious or affectionately kind. Our company and surroundings have a crucial effect on our consciousness. How important it is to be an instrument to bring out the inherent good of each other rather than the worst. so much wisdom is being whispered through every grain of sand if only I have ears to hear.

As the soft sand glided through my fingers, I pondered my life and death struggle in the current of Mother Ganges. An affectionate mother may, at times, deal harshly with her child to impress a lesson that will not be easily forgotten. What was I to learn from today’s ordeal? Perhaps we cannot always succeed by directly opposing a powerful force. I thought of the many trials I had faced on my path. If we do, our efforts will drown in failure. It is like swimming against the Ganges current. In such circumstances, it might be more effective to find a path of less resistance to accomplish the desired end indirectly. The summer sun was fading below the horizon and I recalled how earlier that day I witnessed a hawk rip an unsuspecting fish out of its home, the river. A little later, with no warning, the talons of fate had me gasping for dear life, in the same river. Today, I reflected, the Lord had given me a startling glimpse of how far I am from my goal. It was not an easy lesson to learn. And hopefully it will not be easily forgotten. I took a deep breath and looked upon into the sky, there, far above all the smaller winging birds, I saw a hawk, with the confidence of an emperor, gliding effortlessly into the twilight.