TV Channel

Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Śrī Śrī Devpurīṣa Mahādeva Kī Jaya, Dharma Sambhāraka Satguru Svāmī Madhavānandajī Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Satya Sanātana Dharma Kī Jaya, Sarva Ṛṣi Munī Mahātmā Kī Jaya. Many are wondering: what is this “Jai, Jai”? It is something very interesting. It means victory—but not victory as in a football game or an Olympic medal; it is something deeper. Mostly it is used for God, for dharma, for country. So here, “Jai” does not only signify victory; it means that God protects good qualities, protects goodness. In India, we say Bhārat Mātā, Mother India. You also often read “Mother India.” There is an old film called Mother India. We all call her Bhārat Mātā. I think there is only one country that is called Mātā—Mother India. Do you say “Mother Croatia”? Hrvatska, matka? We do speak of motherland, mother language. But you don’t write “Mother Croatia.” Yet for Bhārat it is written Bhārat Mātā. There is a river we call Gaṅgā Mātā. Do you call your rivers “Mother Danube,” “Mother Tisza,” “Mother Drava”? So there is a river known as Gaṅgā Mātā. Similarly, we speak of Gau Mātā, Mother Cow. No one else says “Mother Cow.” In our spiritual path, when we reflect on karma, adoration and thankfulness, it does not matter which animal. When you drink milk—be it from a cow, buffalo, goat, sheep, camel or any other—the one who gives milk is a mother, and the one who drinks is a child. Automatically we should have respect for that animal, that mother, or that human being, because we drink her milk. And we cannot do anything bad to a mother. There are different kinds of milk we drink. In fact, there are four kinds of milk. Ek dūdh gāyikā, one milk comes from the cow—really, from all animals that give milk. Dūjā dūdh māyikā, the second is your own mother’s milk. And the third is vanrāyikā, from nature: coconut milk, soy milk, many other plant milks. “Vanrāyikā” means the natural world, vanaspati. So these three we know: ek dūdh gāyikā, dūsrā māyikā, tīsrā vanrāyikā. Now which is the fourth? That fourth milk is very important. Unless you taste and drink that fourth milk, you will not truly develop. But I will not tell you today. Did you think I sit here to tell you everything? Think it over. Find out. Search. Once more: one milk is from any animal. Pigs give milk, donkeys give milk, horses, camels, tigers—all creatures that are mothers, whether animal, human, bird or fish. My dear, you receive your mother only once in a lifetime. You cannot say, “I don’t like my mother, I want to enter another womb and come out again.” That is impossible. The same is true of your father. The second is the mother’s milk: strength, love, wisdom—everything. The best of the best you have comes from your mother’s milk. Lucky and blessed are those who have drunk their mother’s milk for at least one and a half to two years. I was the youngest; I think until I was three or four, I would say to my mother, “I want to drink.” It is said that when you speak wise, positive, spiritual words, people say, “On this person’s lips…” Yet a baby does not know if you are the mother or that is the mother, and bottle milk—you know more than I. Nowadays, parents go out to parties three or four times a week, leaving a babysitter. You walk your dog yourself, but for taking your baby to the park you send the babysitter. Nārāyaṇa, Nārāyaṇa… Hari Om, Hari Om. You have time to walk with your dog, yet for a walk you send your child away. How will your children respect you, and how will you truly love them? This has created a picture of our world. What we see today is that picture: parents were not capable of giving love and real education. Children don’t need your money; they need your wisdom. They need your love, not just toys. So we should understand what kind of love to give and how to give it. Many of you are sitting here. I am sure you had a mother—or are you svayambhū? Could be. And you all have a father. But it is said, Kṛṣṇa jānesu Gītā—only Kṛṣṇa knows what the Bhagavad Gītā truly is. Or if you realize Kṛṣṇa, then you also know what the Gītā says. Similarly, Mātā jānesuī Bolo Pitā—Mother knows who the Father is. Your mother introduces you to your father, and she introduces him as your father. What a glory of the mother! Great glory. Of course, there are exceptions: mental illness or other circumstances. These are exceptional. In the same way, the mother principle applies to animals. When you separate a baby from its animal mother, or kill the mother, they feel the same sadness and pain as if someone stole your child or took your mother and killed her. My dear, a mother is a mother. Therefore, it is said in the Upaniṣads: the first God is the mother. Mātṛ Devo Bhava. Ācārya Devo Bhava. Who is the father? He comes after; first is the mother. But, my dear ones, all who are fathers here—you are very important. We adore the first father too. So don’t say that Swāmījī always tells that mothers are best. Mother is best, but without the father she cannot be a mother. Now, about knowledge. We are no longer lazy; we look into technology and spend whole nights on computers. This is called vācārthī knowledge—intellectual knowledge. There is also lakṣārthī knowledge, which leads towards spirituality, towards ātmajñāna: ethical and spiritual education. The word “Guru” is from Sanskrit. In your language you can say “teacher.” Many sitar players around the world say, “My sitar guru was Pandit Ravi Shankar.” They feel like disciples. Your driving instructor is your driving guru. So “guru” means teacher. The original definition is: “Gu” means darkness, “Ru” means light. One who leads us from the darkness of ignorance to the light of knowledge is a master. When you couldn’t drive a car, you had the money, you bought the car, you got the key—but you didn’t know how to drive. That is ignorance. Then you went to a driving school and found a teacher, a guru. In a few weeks that person trained you so you could drive. You remained the same person: the same ears, legs, hands, eyes, name, colour. What changed? Knowledge. Now you can drive. That is a guru. Even the cameraman sending this webcast learned from his master. So guru means any kind of teacher. One must follow Guru Vākya—the words and instructions of the guru. I hope almost everyone over eighteen has a license, or maybe not—lucky are those who need no car, no petrol. Your driving teacher, your Guru Dev, told you where it is absolutely prohibited to overtake, warned you about curves. Have you forgotten the Guru Vākya? Follow the speed. Don’t overtake in uncertainty. But you have a new car; you are young; you overtake anyway. In doing so, you overtake this life into the next, because you did not remember, did not follow the Guru Vākya. So, my dear, Guru Vākya does not only refer to your spiritual guru; a mother’s words are also Vākya. Sometimes we say, “Oh, that’s not right.” There is a joke: a mother moth told her children, “Don’t go out of the house through that hole, because outside the people are not good; they are dangerous.” Two days later, one restless baby moth said, “I will go and see how nasty they are. Mother always tries to make us afraid.” Perhaps she flew out. People like us were sitting at breakfast. The baby flew around and returned. “How was it?” “It was good.” The mother came: “Were you outside?” “Yes, Mother. You said people are not good, but they are all very good.” “How do you know?” “When I flew there, everyone was doing this.” (They were making plans to kill it.) So we should follow and obey the instructions of the mother and father. Whatever good things you have learned are lifelong instructions. If we follow them, we avoid critical situations; if we ignore them, we land in trouble. Similarly, it is said that only a Satguru can truly complete human life. In Punjab, where there is great Guru Bhakti, people ask, “Are you manmukhī or gurumukhī?” Manmukhī means you do what you want—even when your master has told you something, and Swāmījī always tells you, you still don’t follow. Gurumukhī means we follow all the rules and regulations of the holy books and holy saints. When you become gurumukhī and receive the mantra from Satgurū Dev, that becomes your passport, your password, towards Brahmajñāna. Human life is beautiful, but also very critical and mysterious. To be human and still run in ignorance is not good. We hold a light, but when you hold it in front you see only the light and cannot see beyond; when you hold it above, you don’t see what is below. Under the lamp it is always dark. Similarly, the light of wisdom, awareness, alertness and clarity must be held properly. Then you know what to do and what not to do. Then everything is fine. Therefore, Holī Gurujī said in one bhajan: Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Deveśvara Mahādeva Kī Jaya, Satguru Svāmī Madhavānandajī Bhagavān Kī Jaya. Abhaṁ Guru Śaraṇa Sukhapāya—Finally, this jīvātmā, which wandered throughout the whole universe, sometimes on this earth, sometimes on other planets, through darkness and light, through pain and pleasure, happiness and mystery, at last arrived as a human consciousness. If this life passes without Gurudeva, it vanishes into nothingness once more. So it is said: Abhaṁ Guru Śaraṇa Sukhapāya. “Now I have found that happiness.” There is no perfect English word for sukha, only “happiness.” Sukha and dukha—dukha means pain, troubles, but again the word is inadequate. Sukha means everything perfect: pleasure, calm, peace, a happy life. The English word “happiness” is used, but it falls short. So: Abhaṁ Guru Śaraṇa Sukhapāya—now I have found this happiness in the shelter of my Gurudeva. Jñāna ghaṭā le Satguru āyā—When a monsoon or a huge dark cloud covers the horizon, and after two or three years of drought… can you imagine the happiness of birds, other creatures, trees, farmers, humans? The light of hope arrives. Similarly, Satguru Dev brought such endless knowledge like that heavy raincloud. And when such a cloud comes, it rains. Each drop is nectar, life returning. A barren desert, after the rain, becomes a green carpet within days. Mother Earth never loses her seeds. That rain is Amṛta Jal Barasāyā—nectar rain. Words of wisdom are like a rain of nectar. Abhaṁ Guru Śaraṇa Sukhapāya, Amṛta Nīra Piyamāna Bharkī—now I have drunk this nectar; my mind’s thirst was quenched. What kind of thirst? The longing for knowledge. Now that nectar gave me immortality. Nirbhaya Niścala Pāyā—now I have become fearless, immovable. There is no more movement, meaning no vṛttis, no vikṣepas. No kleśa vṛttis. Ānanda he ānanda—bliss alone, bliss. The real seeker finds this at the Satguru Deva. There are many gurus; all are good, nobody is bad. But the Brahmajñānī Guru, Brahma Niṣṭha Śrotarīya, is essential. Without that, I remember, it is said: Ananta Janam—through countless lives—I endured the boxing of the Yamas, the messengers of death. They have no mercy. For death it doesn’t matter how you die; they simply kick you with their foot, like a football. Twenty-two players on a field, and think of that poor football—what karma it must have! One kick, then another, then another. All run after it. Can anyone ask that football, “How are you, my dear? How many kicks have you received?” In the same way, the Yamas play with us, kicking us towards the goal, until they catch this life and say, “Hmm, yes.” Only Gurudev can bring us to the true goal and finish the game, so that the football can say, “Thank you.” We don’t know how many times we have been tormented like this in countless lives. The bhajan is very long. It says my Guru Dev is like a paras stone—so powerful that when it touches iron or any metal, that metal turns into gold. Loha, kanchan karāya. Yet a paras can only turn iron to gold; it cannot make iron into another paras. Only Gurudev can make a disciple into a Gurudev. But you must follow Guru Vākya carefully. Dīpa Nārāyaṇa Mahāprabhujī, isake avatāra hai, jag jīva, jinake nāma se hot sadā bhava pāra hai. Tomorrow I will translate more. I hope to share three or four new bhajans each day. So why did I begin this evening’s talk? Do you remember? Milk, mother, father. Not “Jai” and “chai” and coffee. Water is good, water is life—but it seems you spent too much time in the water today. It reminds me: I also went out into the sea to see you from the other side. On every rock sat someone like a monkey. But it reminds me of something else. Not long ago Kumbha Melā was held. So many Nāgā Bābās. Yes, it is good, but be careful. Do not expose yourself too much to the sun. The ozone layer is getting thinner; it is not like fifty or a hundred years ago. And you do not know the strength of the water. Therefore, Pārśurāmjī said: Rājā Yogī Agni Jal, Jiskī Uḷtī Rīt, Dartā Rahī Upara Śramajī, Dekhe Thoṛī Prīt. Rājā—be friendly, stay good, but do not go too near. You never know when they will kick you out. With a yogī, don’t joke, don’t get too close. You never know when a yogī’s single word can destroy everything. It is good to be a yes-man. That is why when a minister arrives, people say, “Yes, sir, yes, sir.” Someone once came to me and said, “Gurudev, I brought ‘sir’ with me.” I asked, “Where is Rāhu? You brought Rāhu, and where is Ketu?” “Sir” means the head, and “Ketu” means the trunk. In astrology, when Rāhu and Ketu come, and Saturn joins them, it means ninety-nine point five percent death. At that time, only one thing can protect us: Brahma Mahāprabhā, Mahāprabhā… They are all behind you. And now you have come. And what will you do? ——