Once, Hriday1 brought a bull-calf here. I saw, one day, that he had tied it with a rope in the garden2, so that it might graze there. I asked him, “Hriday, why do you tic the calf there every day?” “Uncle” he said, “I am going to send the calf to our village. When it grows strong I shall yoke it to the plough.” As soon as I heard these words I was stunned to think: “How inscrutable is the play of the Divine Maya! Kamarpukur3 and Sihore4 are so far away from Calcutta! This poor calf must go all that way. Then it will grow, and at length it will be yoked to the plough. This is indeed the world! This is indeed Maya!” I fell unconscious. Only after a long time did I regain consciousness.