My dear brother,
Well, I have always gone forward like a hero. I want my work as swift as lightning and as unshakable as the thunderbolt. That is just how I shall die. So see my work through for me; winning or losing has nothing to do with it. I have never once backed down in a fight; am I now to … ? There is winning and losing in every undertaking; but it is my belief that a coward, when he dies, is surely born again as a worm. Let a coward do tapas for age upon age, and still there is no deliverance for him. Am I to end up being born a worm? In my eyes this saṁsāra is only a game, and so it will always be. Must I spend six months brooding over its honour and dishonour, over a couple of rupees gained or lost? … I am a man of work! It is nothing but advice: this one advises, that one advises; if this one raises a scare, that one raises a fright! To me this life is not so very sweet that I must live it so warily, in all that fear and fright. Money, life, friends and companions, people's love, my own self: whoever will not work until success in all of these is made that certain, whoever has to be that afraid, ends up just as Gurudeva used to say: ‘The crow is very clever—’ Whatever else may be, what is it all for, this money-and-whatnot, Maths-and-whatnot, preaching-and-whatnot? The whole of life has one purpose: learning. Apart from that, what need is there of wealth and houses, of women and men?
So whether money was lost or it ended in defeat, I can't make sense of all that, and I never will. That I fought with my loins girded, that I understand very well; and the one who says, ‘Never you mind, well done, brave one, I'm right here with you’ … him I understand, that hero I understand, that god I understand. At the feet of such god-men I lay millions upon millions of namaskāras; they are the ones who purify the world, they are the saviours of saṁsāra! And that lot who only ever cry, ‘Good Lord, don't go forward, there's danger, there's danger!’, those dyspeptics, are mostly the jumpy, timid sort. But by the Divine Mother's kṛpā my mind is so strong that even the worst dyspepsia will never make a coward of me. What more can I say to cowards? There is nothing to say. But all the heroes of this world who failed at great work, who never once drew back from any task, all those heroes who never, out of fear or ahaṅkāra, disregarded the order given them: may they give me a place at their feet. I am the son of the Śākta Mother. Feeble, snivelling, limp-as-a-torn-rag tamas and the pit of hell are, in my eyes, one and the same. O Divine Mother of the universe! O Gurudeva! You always used to say, ‘This one is a hero!’ Let me never have to die a coward. This is my prayer, brother! … ‘There will arise, or there is, one of like nature with me’: among the servants of the servants of Thakur, someone or other will rise up like me, who will understand me.
‘Awake, hero, shake off your dream; Death stands at your pillow … let that not frighten you’: what I have never done, I who have never turned my back in battle, is it today … that will be so? … Am I to pull back from the fight for fear of losing? Why, defeat is only an ornament to wear; but to lose without even fighting?
Tara! Divine Mother! … There is not one man to take the burden on himself; and yet inside, such ahaṅkāra: ‘We understand everything.’ … I am going now; it is all left to you. May the Divine Mother send men again: men with courage in their chests, strength in their arms, fire blazing in their eyes, sons of the Divine Mother of the universe. If She sends even one such, then I will work, then I will come again; otherwise I shall know that the Divine Mother's will goes only this far. … I want work done at speed, and a fearless heart.
I bless you all with my whole heart. May the Divine Mother come into you as Mahāśakti; may She make you abhaya, established in abhaya. This is what I have seen in life: the one who is forever guarding himself falls into danger at every step. The one who is dying of fear for his honour gets nothing but dishonour. The one who is always afraid of loss is always losing. … May all be well with every one of you. No more now.
Vivekananda.