In plain words
Man uses this time for the physical alone. He pours out the body for the physical alone. He cannot recognise the truth of the purpose for which this body came to be. Losing his humanness, man lives out nothing but animal nature. The heart is tender. Man, with so tender a heart, is turning into one with a heart of stone. It is turning into a very hard heart. Such a heart, such a mind, are quite contrary to humanness. Humanness is made of compassion that melts and flows. But in man, compassion has taken on a hard form. The mind is great. That is why Arjuna prayed to Kṛṣṇa, ‘Cañcalaṃ hi manaḥ kṛṣṇā pramādi balavadṛḍhaṃ.’ Great is this mind. It has no eyes; yet it can see everything. It has no ears; but it hears everything that happens, wherever it happens. This mind has no mouth; it recites everything. This mind has no legs; yet it travels faster than light. Man cannot recognise this nature of the mind. He tries to bring the mind under his control. But he is under the control of the mind. As long as one is under the control of the mind, we cannot understand the nature of the mind.
He who puts what he has studied into practice is great
First of all, humanness must be recognised. I spoke of this on the day of Śrī Rāma Navamī. Rāvaṇa was a great one who had learnt the sixty-four branches of learning. Rāvaṇa was far more learned than Rāma. Of the natural, worldly kind, Rāma knew only thirty-four branches of learning. But what did Rāvaṇa, who had learnt the sixty-four branches of learning, achieve? ‘That very Rāvaṇa, who had learnt the sixty-four branches of learning so rarely well, could not find unending happiness and attain supreme Ānanda in his day.’ Having learnt the sixty-four branches of learning, what Śānti did he achieve? What Ānanda did he experience? All comforts were in his hands. He built mansions in the very sky. There was no lack of pleasures and riches for the body.