Vedantic Tales : The Discipleship
        of Ajay : The Osprey

But you yourself decided against joining, Sanyal said.

I decided? He turned me down!

Would you really give up flying? Sanyal asked.

And Ajay knew in his heart that the Abbot had been right. Virtuoso flying was as much a part of him as breathing.

I guess not, he said miserably

Sanyal nodded. Well, like he said, there are other ways. You'll somehow find yours. Go home now for the vacation; come back in the fall.

Early the following morning, after bidding Sanyal goodbye, Ajay set out on the long flight to Bengal. He flew without joy, pushing straight on across Uttar Pradesh, stopping only to fish for his lunch. At dusk he came to roost in a small grove on the outskirts of Lucknow, but sleep did not come to him. What had the Abbot and Sanyal meant? What other ways? How could he ever attain to the real joy of his heart? How could he ever again know, the Infinite and remain in that state of bliss? The fact was, he belonged nowhere; his life had become unthinkable. The trophies he would inevitably win and that his parents would inevitably arrange in the huge stomach of the trophy nest, the fame that would come to him, the ugly battles he would have to fight all that seemed like lead in his heart, weighing tons and closing in on him. On the other hand, he could be neither householder nor monk; both paths were barred to him by his own nature. here was no way for him. The life that stretched ahead was worse than meaningless, and sitting there in the dark on a strange tree, he knew what he must do: He would go home to see his parents; then he would soar as high as the sun, and then he would close his wings and dive straight down. He hoped his parents would not be watching, because this time he would not pull out of the dive. Finally, he fell into a dull sleep.

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