In plain words
However many mosquitoes there are, if we put up a mosquito net in the room where the mosquitoes are, the trouble from these mosquitoes will not touch us at all. Even though there are mosquitoes, when we have put up a mosquito net we are not troubled. But if the mosquitoes are inside the net itself, no one can master this or escape it. In just the same way, you have let the mosquitoes into the mosquito net. Why did you put up the mosquito net? If you put up a net to escape from the mosquitoes and then keep those mosquitoes inside the net, whose fault is that? So we are behaving without Vijñāna and Prajñāna in the way we go about things. Everyone may have Bhakti and prapatti. They may have great Prema for Swami. But it is not enough just to have Prema. Conduct is essential. For such people, only when they recognise the principle of God well can they keep this on the right path.
We are travelling along a road. Beside the road there is a big tree. This whole tree is flourishing beautifully. It is bursting with the glow of life. On the other side there is a small paddy crop. Because it has had no water for two days, the whole paddy crop looks as if it has dried up. How is it that so big a tree is so green and flourishing, and this small crop has wilted like this for want of water for a single day? When we enquire well into the inner meaning of this, the roots of this big tree have gone down to the water level. Because of that it flourishes beautifully without any worry. The roots of this small crop have not gone down to the water level. So we come to know that it is drying up on the surface. Whoever's mind goes down to the heart, their life flourishes. It laughs merrily. Whoever's mind does not reach God's Prema, their life writhes in torment. It shrivels and burns. So what is the cause of this joy and this sorrow? What is the reason we do not show in action the words we speak? Our mind has not gone down that deep. It stays only on the surface. It is hard to say whether there are even roots.
Bharata came to Ayodhyā from the kingdom of Kēkaya. Having come, he heard the news of his father's death. He asked his mother what was the cause of this death. As if she had done some great and glorious deed: ‘My son, I myself am the cause of this. I made this request only to give you the kingdom and raise you to a high station. Then your father died of grief,’ she said. In her own view, in her own feeling, it may have seemed a great thing.