There was a man from Puttaparthi who lived in a solitary hut on the banks of the Ganges some miles from Haridwar. He was engaged in severe Thapas and was greatly admired by other monks.
One day, while bathing in the river, he overheard a party of pilgrims who had alighted from their bus at that site, talking among themselves in Telugu. His attachment to the mother tongue dragged him thither; he asked them where they came from. They said Rayalaseema; he probed further; they were from Anantapur District; his ears ached for further details. They were from Penukonda Taluk, Puttaparthi itself, in fact. So the monk was very happy; he asked them about his lands, his family, his friends and when he was told that a few of them had died, the poor fellow started weeping like a fool. All his years of Sadhana had come to naught. They broke down before the onslaught of language attachment. He was so bound to his mother tongue. What a pity!
Practise detachment from now on; practise it little by little, for a day will come sooner or later when you will have to give up all that you hold dear.
(Quoted from the Divine Discourses of Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba)
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