In plain words
The seat of the heart can itself be called the seat of the age. A change of heart is itself a change of the age, we may say. So only when our hearts are eternally true, spotless and free of selfishness, can we give this thing called Dharma the radiance it deserves. To put it in a way you can grasp easily: when anyone hurts us, our heart is troubled so much; to take care that we give no such pain to others is Dharma itself, we may say. Whatever anyone does that makes us glad, thinking, ‘This is good’, we must set about giving others that same gladness. But for us to say that what others do is wrong, and then set about doing that very wrong ourselves: that itself is adharma, we may say. Whatever others might do that we recognise would hurt us, to cause that very hurt to others is adharma, we may say. But between these two we cannot help considering one more thing. In view of one occasion or another, in view of one task or another, a time keeps coming, now for one person and now for another, when they have to be spoken to in harsh words. At times, even knowing that they will be hurt, we have to use harsh words. But in using such harsh words, even knowing that such people will suffer, there is a good all the same. That is, wishing them well, to show the wrong for what it is, and to give them the best life for their future, at times we have to use even such words. That cannot be called adharma. We cannot say that the nature of one who stabs with a knife is great cruelty. But at times a doctor too cuts open his belly with a knife and operates on it in many ways. Is this cruelty, or is it the spirit of helping? We must understand that too. So it is like this: in view of place, time and person, now a word, now a matter has to be put across in a somewhat harsh way. So when, in some of the things we say and do thinking of good in our mind and thinking of their best future, we lay down a harsh punishment of some kind, that comes under Dharma itself; it cannot be called adharma.