In plain words
We enjoy it. As a fitting return of gratitude for that, we must try to give fitting joy to society too. But today the individual does not enter so broad a feeling.
Three hundred years ago there was a village called Kirkī. It was near Shirdi. A rich man lived there. His house was very big. Today in the world people judge a person's greatness by his house. If the house is big, we say, ‘Oh, this man is very rich.’ Even if there is no food in the house to eat, we still think of him as a rich man. But if the house is very small, … , something like a hut, we say, ‘Poor thing, whoever this man is, he is a pauper,’ and we lower his greatness. In just the same way, by the greatness of the deeds this body has, the body that is man's house, we may think of one as great and another as small. But that day a sannyāsī went to that rich man's house. It was evening. He went there and, as the rich man sat on the verandah, put a question to him. ‘Rich man! Is there a place for me to rest in your house today!’ And the rich man: ‘What is this, sannyāsī! Do you take this for an inn?’ he said. He had grown a little angry. At once the sannyāsī, his smiles dancing, said, ‘O rich man, may I ask you a question?’ ‘Ah! Certainly, ask,’ he said. Who built this great mansion? ‘My great-grandfathers built it. Great grand father. After him came my grand father. After my grand father came my father. After my father, now I myself am the owner,’ he said. ‘So what would you call this, if not an inn? Your great grand father lived here for some days. Then your grand father lived here for some days. Then your revered father lived here for some days. Now you are living here. What else is this, if not an inn? An inn. In an inn people stay for a while and go away. How can you call it your house? Can this be a house, and not an inn?’ said the sannyāsī. Many people come into an inn and go away; it is a place of coming and going. Did your great grand father live here for ever? It is not possible to live here so. That is why this sannyāsī said firmly that it was an inn. But in this inn dwells a lofty and mighty consciousness. That is why Vedānta said, ‘The body is called a temple; the jīva is the eternal God.’ This eternal principle of the Ātma puts on a new body and lives in this ancient world. So the whole world is nothing but an inn. ‘This body is the temple where the eternal embodiment of the Ātma dwells,’ they said. Transforming the rich man's mind in this way, through the rich man's mouth: ‘Please, you may stay right here today. In whatever way I live, you may live in that very way,’ he said.