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advocate the slaughter of animals. Only Kumarpal's faith in his guru's guidance was unshaken.
Acharya Shree continued, "By all means, offer animal sacrifices, but do not stain your hands with blood; offer her living animals as sacrifices, not butchered ones! Lead them into the temple courtyard and bolt the doors. Leave it then to the goddess to choose what she wills. So long you have been offering her carcasses; now you will offer her living animals and I assure you, she will be the more pleased with it."
His argument seemed just, his suggestion fair. The flocks and herds were driven in, the doors of the temple were bolted. All night through, the worshippers kept a vigil round the temple, chanting hymns.
When the golden pinnacle of the temple reflected the first rays of the rising sun, there was a mammoth crowd outside the temple, eager to see the result of the living sacrifice. As the heavy doors were swung open at the order of their king, the animals, imprisoned all night in the courtyard of the temple, rushed out in their hundreds, bleating and lowing.
Kumarpal prostrated himself at the entrance to the temple. Rising to his feet, he asked the swarming multitude, "Tell me now, citizens, who demands animal sacrifice? Is it our goddess or is it her greedy, flesh-eating votaries who demand it in her name? We call her Mata-mother; would a mother eat
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