In English
is ancient repository of spiritual wisdom
I found also that the people here are very hardworking and industrious. From one end of the state to the other, people were busy on the roadside, in the shops and fields, in the gardens and canals. Another thing that attracted the attention of all those who were with Me was the stream of children hastening to the schools, with leaves or slates or bags of books slung on their shoulders, boys as well as girls. The percentage of literacy here is, I know, the highest in India. Besides every family has a number of highly educated men and women. is the centre of many great educational and cultural institutions. In spite of all the ancient traditions of spiritual victory, all the granary of spiritual lore, all the activity, all the industry, all the passion to get educated, and all the opportunities that are so gladly grasped, I find here a great deal of unrest. No “inner peace” is prevalent here, where one would expect to find it in large measure. Of course, as the saying goes, “An aged tiger still has the stripes.” Let Me tell you that the breath is still there, but strength has gone from this ancient repository of spiritual wisdom, which once taught the secret of equanimity and peace () to all. Gramophone records are all made of the same material. So too are all hearts of the same Supreme Consciousness. The grooves carved in them appear the same in all the plates. The grooves carved upon the hearts by grief and joy are also more or less the same. It is the needle that runs over the groove that produces through the sound box and the amplifier good music or bad. The needle is the mind, the mind that runs over the happiness and misery and translates or exaggerates the response and makes you feel elated or dejected. If the needle is sharp, the music is a pleasure to the ear. If it is blunt or broken, the sound becomes a screeching torture.