In plain words
They hold that performing sandhyā in a holy river is most sacred. They take up the river’s water in the hand. Saying, “Keśavāya namaḥ, Mādhavāya namaḥ, Nārāyaṇāya namaḥ,” they pour that water back into the Gaṅgā itself. They take up again the water they poured back. Again they pour it back into the Gaṅgā. Where did they bring any new water from? So what you offer is only what you received from God; it is not your own property. In giving back to Him what is His own, where is the pride? Where is the sense of ‘mine’? Where is Ahaṅkāra? Because of this alone, humanness is fading from sight. Whether in uttering the Name of God, in remembering the Name, or in dhyāna on God, we need not fear anyone. Someone may come and argue. What’s this, you madman! Where is God? Why are you chanting like this, they may jeer! Sir, for you He may not be there. For me He is: so you must face them boldly. When you say there is no God for you, say it for yourself: that He is not there for you. Who are you to say that the God I have is not there? My faith is mine, your faith is yours. You breathe out and breathe in. I breathe out and breathe in. But can you hold your breath for the sake of my breathing? Or can I stop my breath for the sake of yours? Your breath is yours, my breath is mine alone. That is faith. Why should you follow other people’s faith? Follow your own faith. Someone’s eyes are very good. Can one shut one’s own eyes and walk relying on his, because they look like the sun and the moon? One must rely on one’s own eyes. One must stand firm on one’s own faith. That is the steady way. That is, “A man whose Buddhi has no steadiness can never attain Śānti and happiness”; only when we plant this faith deep in the heart will it bring us to the right path. It will bring victory. So you need not fear the world in the least.
Thus Mīrā argued with the Mahārāṇā. But these good words did not reach the Mahārāṇā’s ears. She had the nature of one who eats soft dates. The Mahārāṇā had the nature of one who eats tamarind. To one who eats soft dates, tamarind does not appeal. To one who eats tamarind, soft dates do not appeal. A man with indigestion knows nothing of hunger. A hungry man knows nothing of indigestion. If the man with indigestion comes along and says, “Fellow, don’t eat so much,” then: Get away, get away! Have you no sense? I’m hungry, I must eat, he says. Those without the taste for it are the men with indigestion. The one who takes it in gladly is the one who digests it, so these two never get along. Whether they like it or not, what we have to do, we must do. Such was the bond between this Mahārāṇā and Mīrā. He thought it could not go on. As long as she was there, he thought, he would have to suffer insults of this kind.