TV Channel

Bhole Deepa Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān kīje, gurushā bina karajana yasare, antaryāmī bina karajana yasare. Koṭi upāya kare koi chahe, koṭi upāya kare koi chahe, na bhava sindhu tire, ude rāja na sade, antaryāmī bina karajana yasare. God bless you. Last night, I was telling a story to the boys from the school, but it was not on the webcast. So perhaps we will tell it again. I actually told the story because a few of the boys, the other day, were sneaking out and terrorizing one of our bee nests to take the honey. There was a small bee’s nest on the mountain, and they were going there. For everybody who’s been in Jadan, you’ll know that we have a lot of bees, and somehow we live quite in harmony with them. Sometimes they get a little bit angry, but it’s quite rare. There was one particular occasion where they came to life, perhaps four or five years ago. We had here the Pali district tournaments for some school sports. It is normal that schools take turns hosting the tournaments for the entire district. At this time, all at once, we somehow ended up having wrestling, judo, gymnastics, badminton, and table tennis. There were thousands of children here. On the last day of that three-day tournament, there was a big function in the tin shed, which also hosted some of the judo finals. All these thousands of children were there, yelling, screaming, cheering, and running everywhere. It was basically chaos all around the Śivāmandir and the STD. There was also a parade where they were all going past, with drums banging and flags everywhere. This all occurred in this area, and there is one bee’s nest there near the Śiva Mandir. Despite all that disturbance, despite all that noise and children running and screaming in very close proximity, the bees didn’t disturb anyone. But then there were some four boys, a bit older, who came from Pālī. They arrived in the ashram and actually came somehow to disturb the function. They weren’t associated with any of the schools; I think they were probably from a college in Pālī. When they came, they went past the STD and towards the function. They started talking to a few people there, but they were being quite rude and somehow trying to disturb people. Then, much to everyone’s amusement—especially me and Lakshmanjī, who were watching this from the STD and discussing that these boys were up to no good and we should move them—those same bees, which hadn’t been disturbed at all by the thousands of children, decided to take action. They tried to get away from them, and what followed was kind of like in the cartoons. This whole group of bees chased them toward the gate and kept chasing them until they got there. Of course, those boys left, and the bees went back and sat where they were before, not disturbing anybody else. It was fantastic to watch, and it was much better than having to try and get them out ourselves. It’s interesting that in some of the scriptures, you can read that bees are called Śiva’s soldiers, Śiva’s army. So it was almost like that. These bees were living near the Śiva Mandir, so it was almost like Devpurījī said: they got these boys out, and off they went and did their job. In the Līlā Amṛt, there are so many stories of Devpurījī connecting with nature and his relations with the animals. There was one time when I had the experience of seeing just how much they can work in the ashram and as part of the ashram. There is another story that came to my mind tonight. It’s pretty much unrelated, except that it’s got an animal in it. I don’t know why I remember this story today, actually. There was once one sādhu here. He was somehow a tantric and was always manifesting things. I personally, when I was younger, was always a skeptic of these things. I thought there must be something hidden up the sleeve or some trick. But this sādhu didn’t wear any shirt, so it certainly didn’t come from up his sleeve. He was over near the Saṅkutīr, and Sultan was there—the horse Sultan. The sādhu went over to see Sultan. I think that Durgāpurī was actually riding him, so he got down. Then the sādhu was somehow looking at the horse and checking. Suddenly, in his hand, he did like this, and there was one huge lāḍū. As Durgāpurī expressed it, I remember very well, he said, "Sultan’s eyes fell out of his head, like all Christmases had come at once." There was a lot to eat, and so Sultan ate it. Then Sultan realized that only a few of his Christmases had come, because when that one was finished, another one was there. Sultan was eating four laddus. They were really big, much bigger than a tennis ball. He was in bliss. How do these things happen? So many things—everyone will have had some experience here or something you just can’t explain, at least not through logic, or through science, or through reasoning. Hari Purjī was just singing, "Guru Sabina, Karāḍjana Āyasarī"—that you can’t do anything without the Guru. But also, those things happen which are just somehow impossible to occur. One of the most beautiful expressions of the link between nature and the ashram was two or three years ago; many here will remember. Every time in the monsoon, we let the horses go free so that they can eat the fresh green grass. Horses generally are looking out at the stable, just towards that green grass, thinking, "When will you let me go there? When can I eat?" Then you can just forget about them all day; they’re out in the fields grazing and enjoying. But the monsoon before last, they chose to do something completely different. They started to walk around this Bhakti Sāgara. I think many remember. And not just once, but they did it for hours. The three or four of them together were just doing parikramā, again and again and again. We had one Narayan Singh Ji from Manaklava who is quite a horse expert. He came here one day when they were doing this parikramā, and he had three or four people with him who were also experts on the breed, the Marwari breed of horse. They came to see our horses and check the stables and everything. But they just stood here outside for about ten minutes, going on and waiting for them to come around again. Then Narayan Singhji was saying, "How did you get them to do that?" I said, "I don’t know, they just do it." He said, "No, no... someone must have shown them or did it with them the first time." But they were just doing it, and for hours the grass was there. It’s beautiful green grass; they could have been eating all that time, but they were doing Parikramā. And if you made the mistake of leaving the door open, then Gaṅgā was coming inside and taking out the Bhaktisāgar. Some relation is there that is really unexplainable—some relation between the animals that stay here and the ashram, and Swāmījī and the Paramparā. You see, some dogs that we once took away to try and get them out of here came back from more than 200 kilometers. And perhaps the most amazing expression of that was one horse that passed away here. Radha was her name. She had an accident and had colic gas in the stomach. For three or four days, we were fighting with this colic. It’s something that can kill horses; it’s very, very serious. They get such pressure in the stomach, and then they get cramps. It’s very, very painful and very hard to watch. She was at a stage where we were just waiting for her to go. She was not even able to stand anymore; she was outside the workshop. Suddenly she stood up, which she hadn’t done for a long time because she couldn’t. Then she literally dragged the person who was with her, like he was skiing behind, and dragged him there to the Śivamandir. She went there and put her head down on the step in front of the door. There she bent her head and touched the stairs of Śiva Mandir with her head. She was there for 10 or 15 seconds, and then she went back to the workshop and died. What to say? It’s just like she was meant to come for that purpose, to have that darśan, and then her time was done; her job was done. But this was something done with such a purpose. She left from the workshop with such a conviction and just went to that one place, did praṇām, and came back. In whatever way, in whatever relation we have, or from inside—something that we are not aware of—that energy of the āśram, that energy of the guru and of the paramparā, it’s working on levels that we just can’t understand. We see things on our surface or in our daily life that are happening, and it’s such a beauty to be a part of. Kīcā viṣva-guru-mahā-maṇḍaleśvara-para-mahantsrī-svayiṃ-maheśvaranāṃ pūjya-sat-guru-deva kīcā. Ahamandaleśvarasvāmī jasrāc pūjī-mahārāc kīcā.