In plain words
‘I have not seen any guru. I have not gone to any guru. But this officer put the question who are you. A very important question. Who am I’: so he asked himself. The retired officer went off, taking him for a madman. He gave no answer. In the same way, what is special in man's being so infatuated with this inert body, this impure body, this body made up of excrement, urine, stench, flesh and blood? ‘Moment by moment filth oozes out; civet and musk will never be born of it.’ Why so much attachment to such a body? But there is some power in it. Because that power is there, we are so infatuated with such a useless leather-bag of a body. Turning it over in his mind, he was going through the bazaar. A hunter had killed a rabbit in the forest and was coming along the road, holding it in his hand. Meat-eaters were asking, ‘How much is it?’ ‘5 rupees,’ he said. One man gave 5 rupees, bought the rabbit and went away. He watched. ‘This worthless rabbit has a price of 5 rupees. But after a man dies, there is no one to give 5 rupees for it! There is no one to ask, ‘How much is it?’! Chī, do you see! A dead rabbit has value, but a dead man has no value. However great a king of kings he may be, however great an emperor, however great the head of a maṭha, when he is being carried to the burning-ground after death and some rain comes on midway, if they say, ‘Sir! We will keep him on this verandah for a while,’ everyone says, ‘No, take him away.’ Whether he is an emperor, a rich man, the head of a maṭha or some other great soul: they look at none of it. On the same road a rich man going to the temple says, ‘If I leave them here or there, some dog will carry them off, some person will steal them; let me leave my sandals on your verandah and go, sir,’ and the owner of the sandal shop says, ‘Leave them; it is even better to put them inside; if you leave them outside, someone will take them away,’ and gives them a place inside. You see! Here is a great rich man. As long as he lived, all the attendants moved about around him. To have his darśan there were many restrictions. In the same way, a head of a maṭha, who, if you thought of seeing him, would go inside saying, ‘Do not touch anyone, do not touch,’ today, in the end, was not given a place for his dead body even on a verandah.