In plain words
And the dream is true up to waking. Is this true? Is that true? Both are only two sleeps. Is it worth so much toil for this? Why? However much we do, however much we see, however many games, songs and words there may be, the cart of life goes in the end only as far as the burning ground, does it not! Every step we take only draws nearer to it. It does not take us farther from it. And to delight in thinking this alone is Satya and eternal!
You will have heard the great ones say certain things. ‘Take two things. Give up two.’ Only then will the Manas come onto the right path. We must forget the harm others have done us and the good we have done. Instead, we keep them in memory upside down. If we look for gain, gain in everything, however far it goes, there is no gain of any kind for us. We earn all the money we want. We put it in the bank. We build mansions. We acquire learning. All this is real only so long as there is breath; once you are gone, they will not keep you even a minute inside the house built by pouring out lakhs. They will lay you out on some verandah or other. We must reflect on Satya.
Reflect on one thing yourselves. ‘When you say “I”, are you the body? “My stomach, my head, my leg,” you keep saying! Who are you? The limbs are one thing; you are another. You say “my stomach”, but you do not say “I am the stomach”.’ Reflect, and in a second the truth is known. So long as the breath is in this body, it is Śivam. Once it has left, a śavam. Breath itself is the svarūpa of Śivam. Only when we believe this are we blessed. Every day we chat away about all sorts of things. But look! The world is a fair of two days, life a game of two ghaḍiyas, the body a water bubble of two moments. All these possessions and vehicles are like scenes in a dream.
As we go along the path of Bhakti, many obstacles may come. For devotees it is a help, not a harm. As a fine creeper looks so much lovelier when it is pruned, so all these reproaches and taunts are a grace to our life, not a loss. We must tie them all up in a bundle and throw them into the sea. Only then do Śānti and happiness come. An up-and-down journey cannot be avoided. Since this is a help to us, however many hardships come as we make our life worthwhile, however many losses we suffer, we must not let go of the goal. Whatever the hardships, losses, reproaches and taunts, by God's Grace they turn into nothing but a help. All this is Māyā, which wears down the Manas. ‘Manayeva manuṣyāṇāṃ kāraṇaṃ bandha-mokṣayoḥ,’ it is said. What is its tattva? That is, the Manas is a mere delusion. Has it a form? A power? Nothing at all. It has no power of consciousness. We ourselves give it strength and capacity, set it on our heads and suffer. What is this? They say, this is cloth. I argue that it is not cloth. We say that cloth is just a coming together of some threads. Take away those threads and there is no cloth. In just the same way, a coming together of certain desires is what stands as the Manas. The Manas is nothing but a coming together of wishes. Take that away and there is no Manas at all. Wishes are its very svarūpa. We increase our wishes, and afterwards we suffer troubles.
Faith in God we must surely have. Without it, people remain like beasts, birds and wild animals. Man is set apart by wearing three gems: Viveka, Vijñāna and vicakṣaṇa. What matters is the inquiry we make through them; if time just passes in eating and sleeping, nothing is achieved. Faith in God is needed. What losing it is like: a small bird perched on the branch of a tree is not afraid even when the branch sways. For it relies on its own wings, not on the branch. But look at you: you forget the wings called faith in the Ātma and cling to the tender branch called saṃsāra, and every time it sways this way and that, you fall prey without end to every fear and delusion. If the chance to attain the spiritual principle, and faith, are gone, tell Me, what is there in humanness?
Within this there are certain things. There are people who do not even know what Satya, Dharma, justice and Prema are. One thing above all we must know. If that is known, all the rest is as good as known. There is a story for this. Once a man had to cross the Gaṅgā. He got into a boat, and when they had gone a little way, he asked the man rowing the boat, ‘What is the time?’ He said, ‘I have no watch.’ Then that man: ‘Ayyō! Can anyone be without a watch in these times? Even if you cannot tell the time, it is the fashion only if there is a watch on your wrist. So a quarter of your life has gone into the Gaṅgā,’ he said. When they had gone some way further, he asked, ‘Have you a radio?’ The boatman said he had not. ‘Ayyō! What is this, to be without a radio in these times? Everyone carries a transistor in his hand, like a barber's box. Two quarters of your life have gone into the Gaṅgā,’ he said. After a little while he asked, ‘What is the news in the paper today?’ To that the man said he did not know. ‘Even if you cannot read, there should be a paper in your hand. So all three quarters of your life have gone into the Gaṅgā,’ he said. Then a gale rose. The boat was tossing this way and that. Then the man rowing the boat looked at him: ‘Sir! You seem to be one who knows everything. Do you know any swimming at all?’ He asked. Then that man, terrified, said, ‘I don't know!’