In plain words
The doctor saw their fluster. He demanded rather more money. Pretending to think something over: ‘What is this? You have come so late? The fever has gone very high,’ and so he began his way of pulling out more money. ‘He must be kept in a nursing home for a week,’ he said. When he had been kept in the nursing home for a week like this, all the salary the two had earned was spent. The child was well again, so they took him back home. The worry began: ‘How are we to get through next month?’ While things were like this, the child got fever again. Again they took him to the hospital. Like this, the illness, going to the hospital, the expense; when they had taken the child to hospital four or five times like this, the husband grew sick of it. Thinking, ‘This time, if he gets fever, we must not take him to the hospital,’ he grew so sick of it: just as Veṅkaṭaramaṇa of Tirupati shaves heads bare, this one is shaving us bare; if he dies, let him die; he must not be taken to the doctor again. They found jobs, the salaries came, they married, a child was born. But there was no joy: only weariness. He grew sick even of this child. Then summer came. From the heat he got sunstroke. From that sunstroke the child died. After that they thought, ‘From now on we want no children at all.’ So there is no happiness merely in being educated. The girl had done her M.Sc.1st class. She had passed in science. But none of her studies removed her sorrow. And this boy who studied the MBA studied everything: environment, communication, banking, finance, computer. He got good marks in all of them. But at home there was only sorrow. ‘Why can't some computer remove my sorrow?’ he asks. The computer, communication, banking: do any of these remove sorrow at all? No. In daily life there is no way to remove sorrow but prayer to God alone. So we must believe in divinity. It is a mistake to think, ‘All this comes from Vijñāna alone, or else from one's own cleverness, from one's learning.’