Central St at Madras, diff people, some came to see their friends off, some to travel, festive look. Young gentleman in a first class compartment, he looked out a vivacious lady bewitchingly beautiful, in silken finery alluring smile, graceful elegant cynosure of attraction, boarded in the young man’s compartment, speechless wonder the man wondered weather she was a fairy come down to the earth, gazes at her. She was followed by a porter carrying box of unusual dimension, smiling she said I shall keep this box there and then left, and disappeared. The man expecting to have a pleasant journey hoped, she would take the seat opposite his, admiration made him to bear the inconvenience caused.
A sweet perfume emanating from the box tickled his nostrils. The bell rang the lady did not turn up. Whistle, green flag— train steamed out of the plate form. Young man in a fix. What had happened to her? Next station halt, no sign of lady. Two gentleman boarded, noticed the huge box. Why don’t you transfer it to the luggage van? Inconvenience? The more he looked at the box, the more his attachment grew. Now his mind pondering what he should do with the box? Now interrupted by the T C asked whose it was? Produce the luggage ticket, weighted and booked? Pay RS 27.80 luggage charge.
Destination came, two porters carried. Custom officer declared the contents, open to see it, did it carry contraband goods? no keys- The suspicious officer said follow me to the police station, The lock difficult to open locksmith, unlocked it, expecting jewellery, contained a dead body, heavily scented.
The young man said the box was not his. Vivacious lady disappeared, denial fell on the deaf ears handcuffed, arrested, sent to prison after four days bail, proved his innocence in court. He disclaimed the box seemed to hang on to him. It seemed to claim him. Even if he tried to serve relation with the box. The box stuck to him. After several months producing all the possible evidences of his innocence he got release. But in so doing he had lost a good part of his wealth and good name.
Moral: Jeeva, the soul on its journey through life is the young gentleman. Maya (the unmanifest or ignorance or neoscience) is the bewitchingly beautiful vivacious lady. Maya places at the disposal of soul the body, the body is the huge mysterious box. The soul through its association with the body propelled by the inherent power of Maya. Claims the body as its own and comes to suffer the throes of thralldom. When the soul comes to know that the body is insentient and of no value (through the teachings of the master) it tries to disown the body, does not leave. The soul fights seriously and intelligently, we are in this bondage since countless births.