CHAPTER: 11 Two Penniless Boys In Brindaban "It would serve you right if Father disinherited you, Mukunda! How foolishly you are throwing away your life!" An elder-brother sermon was assaulting my ears. Jitendra and I, fresh from the train (a figure of speech merely; we were covered with dust), had just arrived at the home of Ananta, recently transferred from Calcutta to the ancient city of Agra. Brother was a supervising accountant for the Bengal-Nagpur Railway. "You well know, Ananta, I seek my inheritance from the Heavenly Father." "Money first; God can come later! Who knows? Life may be too