In plain words
At that time Hiraṇyakaśipu went to her: ‘Mother! This whole world is like a shelter where travellers stop for water. Every living being in this world is a pilgrim of karma. They come in here to quench their own thirst. They quench their thirst and go on their way. We too have come in just that way. Every being is a pilgrim through the field of karma. On this pilgrimage we quench our thirst and return to our own abode. What is the use of your grieving over just this? Not only that: my brother, being a hater of Hari, was killed by Hari. That was his good fortune. The Creator Himself became his destroyer. The very God who created him punished him. What a fortunate man my brother is!’ he said. ‘I pray that the same lot may come to me too,’ he said. Hearing these words, the mother rejoiced and said, ‘So be it.’ In just that way, Hari Himself slew Hiraṇyakaśipu and fulfilled his heart's desire. This has stood as an example of the path of experiencing the divine merely through hatred, enmity and anger.
Mokṣa comes only to one who has gone beyond Manas
Every man is a master. A master must be the one in authority. For the embodiment of the divine shows Himself in every heart. In every citta, too, the Stealer of the citta is installed. So the story of Emperor Bali also gives this sacred ideal: ‘You must not become a beggar.’ Vāmana asked Emperor Bali for three paces as a gift. Vāmana covered two worlds, the earth and heaven, with His two feet. When each foot was of so vast a form, why did He come to Emperor Bali so small? It means that however great one may be, when one enters into begging, one becomes small! That is, when one stretches out one's hand before others, one becomes small. When one is a giver to others, one stays great. ‘Aṇoraṇīyān mahato mahīyān.’ The one who stretches out his hand is as small as an atom; the one who gives is vast.