In plain words
Satya sets people against you; Asatya pleases the crowd. Liquor sells where it stands and is drunk; curds and such go round from house to house.
Though we bring milk and curds door to door to sell, calling ‘Milk, curds!’, they say, ‘Don't want it, go away.’ They walk to the liquor shop set up far from the town, even taking the trouble, drink that ruinous stuff and come back. Then, in man's nature, what is real? What is Asatya? It is precisely because the power of enquiry into what in man's life is good, what is to be let go and what is to be wished for, has become void that man simply fails to give humanity the respect it deserves. So, knowing the matter of the real and the unreal, we must make the effort needed to experience to some extent this all-pervasiveness called Viṣṇutva. Only when we make such an effort will our life give, as it should, a meaning worthy of humanity. Instead, there are many people who give all sorts of excuses: that they have many family responsibilities, or too many business responsibilities, or many rules of their job, and that ‘in such a state I cannot join a satsaṅga like this’. But truly we must also enquire into the truth: “Are those responsibilities binding this man, or is this man himself trying to be bound by those responsibilities?”
A small example of this. In our Bhārata there is a curious way of catching monkeys. They have a big pot made with a narrow mouth and put into the pot all the things a monkey likes best; then the monkey comes, puts its hand inside to take those things, grabs a fistful of them, and so the hand will not come out. Then the monkey is deluded, it seems: thinking, ‘Someone has bound me,’ it cannot even carry off the pot, and while it is flustered the catcher comes, throws it into a net and takes it away. Some practices go on in this way. In this pot no one bound the monkey. It was bound because it itself held on too much to the thing. If it lets go of the thing, it comes out. In the same way, in this huge vessel of the cosmos a small mouth called saṃsāra has been set, and things called comfort and joy have been put in there; so each person gets himself caught in it for the sake of comfort and joy, but it is not comfort and joy that bind him.