Dear friend,
I hear that one of the unavoidable sāṁsārika sorrows has fallen upon you. You are a jñānin; what can sorrow do to you? Still, at the vyāvahārika level, a friend owes it to a friend to speak of it, and so I mention it. Besides, such moments often bring a deeper realisation. For a while it is as if the clouds drift apart and the sun of Truth shines out. For some, half their bonds come loose. Of all bonds the bond of honour is the strongest; the fear of what people will say is greater even than the fear of Yama; yet even that bond seems to slacken a little. For a moment at least, the mind seems to see that it is better to listen to the antaryāmin Lord than to the talk and opinions of people. Then the clouds close in again. This is Māyā!
One nirguṇa Brahman I can understand quite well, and I see Its special manifestation in particular persons. If those particular persons are what is called Īśvara, that too I can understand quite well. Beyond that, my mind will not take to laughable schemes like an imaginary Creator of the world and the rest.
Such an Īśvara I have seen in my own life, and it is at His command that I go on. The Smṛtis, the Purāṇas and the like are the work of men of ordinary understanding, full of error, blunder, bheda-buddhi and dveṣa-buddhi. Whatever in them is broad and loving is to be taken; the rest is to be thrown away. The Upaniṣads and the Gītā are the true śāstras; Rama, Krishna, Buddha, Chaitanya, Nanak, Kabir and their like are the true Avatāras, because their hearts were boundless as the sky, and above them all, Ramakrishna. Ramanuja, Shankara and the rest were mere narrow-hearted Panditjis. That love was not in them; their hearts never wept at another's suffering. Dry punditry, nothing more, and then: I'll hurry up and become mukta myself!! Can that ever be, sir? Has it ever happened, or will it ever? While the least trace of the ‘I’ remains, can anything come of it?
And there is one more thing I have understood: doing good to others alone is dharma, and all the rest, the yāga-yajña, is madness. Even the wish for one's own mukti is wrong. The one who has given everything for others, he alone becomes mukta; and those who cry ‘my mukti, my mukti’ and rack their brains over it day and night wander about, ruined here and fallen from there. This too I have seen with my own eyes many times. With all this in mind, I did not have the courage to write to you, sir.
If in spite of all this your affection for me remains, I shall count it a very great joy.
Your servant,
Vivekananda.