In plain words
A certain man wanted the world to describe him as a great devotee, and made a show of it: every day he would sit down in the temple of that village at brahmamuhūrta sharp, close his eyes and do japa, and would not get up until ten o'clock. Poor man, because of him the priest was late every day in going home. Rouse him? He is sunk in dhyāna. At home there are so many duties. At last he guessed that if this man sits like this for hours on end, there must be some secret in it. Wanting to find out the truth, one day the priest sat down behind the image of God: “Devotee! I am greatly pleased with your japa and tapas, with your Bhakti and prapatti! This very moment I shall merge your life into myself and give you the gift of Mokṣa,” he said loudly. The moment he heard those words, he got up and ran!
Such is the Bhakti and prapatti of men. The aim of reaching the goal and attaining oneness must become firm; you must be ready for it. Never forgetting God, you must be ready at each and every moment.
People hang back from reciting the Name of the Lord ten times, twenty-five, a hundred times. They waste their speech in needless talk. A father brought up in the culture of the old days asked his son, “Boy! Every day repeat the Gāyatrī mantra a hundred and eight times, with śraddhā,” and insisted on it. The boy agreed to it; he uttered the holy Gāyatrī once, properly and in full, and then, instead of repeating that very same mantra a hundred and seven times. He merely said, “Ditto, ditto ditto.” “Why should I say over and over again the very thing I have said above?” he argued. “O my fate! What a son has been born!” the father grieved bitterly.
Later the boy joined college, studied brilliantly, opened correspondence with educational institutions abroad and secured himself a seat there; joy and worry came to the father at one and the same time. Before his son boarded the plane, he took him to a temple of the Devī and told him to pray, “Mother, bring me back to the land of Bhārata with good sense and good qualities, with good conduct and sound traditions.” Unable to refuse under his father's pressure, the son prayed in just that way. Unwilling though he was, he went along with his father's words and took his leave, and how eager the boy was to be off!
The man who had landed in America neglected the Telugu language completely within a few months, and fell into an infatuation with that country's language and that country's culture. Two years later, when he turned back home to our country, the father went to the airport with a basketful of hope. The moment he got down from the plane, he spoke to his father in nothing but English! When his father said, “What is this, sir, you are talking in a language I do not know!” the boy said, “I have forgotten Telugu!” “Well, you have come back without forgetting your mother and father at least!” he burst out in anger, and took his son to that same temple. But, as though smearing soot on humanity itself, he turned obstinate and said he would not take off his boots.