He Is My Son
My adolescent days at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram were sweeter than the sweetest. I can tell hundreds of stories about how kind and affectionate people were to me. One lady used to cook for Sri Aurobindo, and he liked her food so much, specially her luchis. Her name was Mridu, but because she was older than me by many years, I called her Mridu-di.
Once a week, on Saturday evening, she used to cook for the children also. There were thirteen boys, and I was her most favorite, so she used to give me double quantity. When others asked her why she was giving me so much food, she used to tell them, “He is my son.”
So Mridu-di became my mother, my first Ashram mother, and I was always her son. How much love and affection she poured into me!
