After Mukunda’s* graduation from high school, and after he’d met his guru Sri Yukteswar, his father bought him a motorcycle with a sidecar. Mukunda enjoyed his new toy, a symbol of his approaching manhood. Sometimes his guru would ride with him in the sidecar. As they went bouncing through the streets, laughing merrily, the breeze would blow their clothing, flapping it about their bodies as if with kindred enthusiasm. For a time Mukunda was known, jokingly, as “the motorcycle swami.”
Mukunda was indeed pleased with his new acquisition. It was easily the nicest present he had ever received. He never entertained the thought, however, of being attached to it.
One day he parked his motorcycle on the street in front of his father’s home, and went indoors. Later, as he was leaving the house, he saw a casual acquaintance gazing at the vehicle admiringly.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” exclaimed Mukunda.
“Oh, yes!” replied the other warmly. A note of longing entered his voice as he added, “If only I could have one like it!”
“But you can,” Mukunda replied instantly. “Take it. It’s yours.”
The other was incredulous. “But—but you can’t just give away something so valuable!”
“Of course I can! And I will. Seriously,” Mukunda insisted, “I want you to have it.
The other could barely stammer his gratitude. His eyes, however, bore eloquent testimony to his feelings.
Mukunda felt divinely contented. “I own nothing, beloved Divine Mother,” he thought happily. “The things I use are Thine, not mine. I return them joyfully to Thee, their rightful owner, whenever I see Thee wanting them through others.”
—from Paramhansa Yogananda: A Biogrpahy
*Mukunda was Yogananda’s childhood name