Autobiography Of A Yogi In Bengali Pdf Free Download
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The Hobbit likes nothing better on a rainy evening than a cozy fire and a cup of a good cup of tea. You can always find one without too much trouble in the more civilized lands, but their taste seems more natural to him, if not more honest He has tea thrown at him in Henneth Annun of late, and it is rare for him to return to our shores without some of our weaker leaves in his kitbag. Anyway, one of our best friends, Snail, offered to help us out with a kettle of tea just now. Even for us servants, afternoon tea is a great treat, what with all the wandering about that goes on during the rest of the day. There have been times when the kettle got distinctly low on tea and we started to worry, but now we can start in the morning with a full cauldron and always be sure of a good cup of tea warm or cold when evening comes. Perhaps we shall experiment with some more interesting varieties of tea-seed. There are some new ones from China that Snail has been sampling, and we could try one or two of those on a rainy day.
What happens to a wanderer whose life is of the wanderer, one who has nothing to settle down to? He wanders on, seeking a match to his wandering, a limit to his vagabondage. He finds that nowhere has anything to offer, no permanent place to live. Nowhere has a sufficient number of citizens to maintain itself, nowhere supports enough driftwood and drift about that is not fast or fit enough to turn into ship-wood, and nowhere a moon to lend its light to travelers on moonless nights. Nowhere, therefore, is there a fourth element of his pilgrimage; nowhere has he a home to offer. He moves from one place to another, and they all move from him. When he is safe on dry land he is not safe from the cold of the winter. In the warmth of the summer he has not enough settled place to be too private to himself in. He wanders idly even in the spring-time, when hope may be stirring, when the mountains and the valleys and the woods are awakening from their sleep and begin dreaming of the possible harvest. "Winter is a time of laughter, for one has one's grip on life firmly. d2c66b5586