In plain words
In this sacred land of ours, Bhārata, while we take up many kinds of paths so that a distinguished institution of learning may grow, we are in a state where we cannot inquire what, in it, is true and eternal. The farmer at his plough, the worker in the factory, the trader in the bazaar, the poet, the sun, why single out anyone? Every single person of Bhārata born into this world is truly a student in this school of the universe. But the classes are different.
The End of Sorrow, the Gaining of Ānanda
Nothing whatever in this world is in vain. That being so, to pass a human life in vain is simply contrary to our duty. Religions and castes alike are only man's own inventions. We are dividing each village into two. We are dividing each town into two towns apiece. In the villages it is the village of the rich and the village of the poor, in the town it is old town, new town: that is how we go about things. But we are forgetting the fact that for everyone, all alike, the goal is Ānanda alone. When this Ānanda is the goal, this Ānanda, Satya and sacrifice, all three of these, are simply the treasure houses of God. If we are to enjoy this Ānanda, the chance to enjoy such Ānanda comes to us only when we have understood well the close bond between man and man. But what does Ānanda mean? Being without sorrow is itself Ānanda. The ending of sorrow and the gaining of Ānanda: that is the chief means for man. We must inquire how such a means comes to us. Between star and star, between planet and planet, light goes on shining. In the same way, between man's pleasures and pains, within them, Ānanda cannot fail to stream forth. Before we can recognise the special greatness that lies in humanness, we must inquire into some kinds of inner meaning. In the efforts man makes to love himself, he cannot help but love others. Unless we love others, our Prema for ourselves will never grow.