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Śrī Deep Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān, Devīśvara Mahādeva, Dharma Samrāṭ, Satguru Svāmī Mādhavānandījī Bhagavān, Satya Sanātana, Mahātmā. This morning we spoke of four principles: four Vedas, four Puruṣārthas, four āśramas, four yogas, and the divine mother. A mother is a mother, irrespective of the creature. Long ago, nearly forty years, an article was published in a Russian research magazine, which was also available in Czechoslovakia and Hungary—places behind the so-called Iron Curtain. This magazine contained my research on mothers, children, fathers, and love. There was an experiment with a pair of rabbits. The mother rabbit had three babies. After keeping them together for a month, the babies were taken about one hundred kilometers away to another place. The mother stopped eating and became very sad; the father was also sad. They killed the father, and she grew even sadder. Simultaneously, the three babies, far away, became suddenly fearful. They killed one baby, and the mother rabbit grew nervous and fearful, always looking up. They killed a second baby, and she trembled. They conducted this experiment, though such a test is utterly unnecessary. Finally, they killed the mother. The one remaining baby was extremely nervous and fearful. The article concluded that this relationship, founded on love from the very beginning of life, is that energy—that love is Śakti. It operates like ultrasound waves. Similarly, our vṛttis, our thoughts, connect us to others, but we are excessively involved in the outer, material world and have lost that innate ability we discussed this morning. Our external intellect, preoccupied with the outer world, has made us forget our inner reality. Nevertheless, the soul feels everything. The soul is connected: a mother’s soul to her children’s souls, a husband’s soul to his wife’s soul. This is a communication instrument that is not clear to our conscious awareness, but inside, it exists. Though we try to understand, our vṛttis and expectations pull us elsewhere. But real love—what we call "God is love and love is God"—is that true love. Material love is temporary; you never know when it will change, and when it does, it brings sadness. It offers temporary happiness, but the other love is called ānanda, a blissful love beyond description. It is the life that never dies. That love communicates soul to soul, even between animals and humans. In many cases, your husband or wife may not know where you are sitting right now, but your dog or cat knows. I wonder who is more highly developed. When you are two streets away, that dog knows, yet your spouse may not know if you are at a neighbor’s house. Humanity has drifted that far from its own reality, becoming more connected to the outer world. That inner communication is perfect. A simple example: one or two hundred birds are sitting together. A noise comes, and all two hundred birds fly at the same instant without a single accident or collision. If two hundred cars started from here, how many accidents would occur? Or consider the sea: hundreds of thousands of small fish swim together beautifully. No one instructs them, "Go left, now go right." This is communication from soul to soul. We should develop that communication and trust that God constantly directs us inwardly, guiding us on our satya path. What is important for a human? To gossip, pursue material life, blackmail, and waste time? Or to remain steadfast on your path? If someone says, "Swāmījī, now change your path," and cites some great guru, do you think I will change? I might, but I would lose my life and my spiritual development. This chain of sādhanā, built over years and years, should not break. It is not a subject for gossip; you must be sure. If you are not, you remain in ignorance, but sooner or later understanding will come. Tyāga, renunciation, is very important. This is not merely the Indian way of thinking. It is easy to say but difficult to do. For an Indian, tyāga is very difficult. Indians have more problems in this regard than you might. You may not have such strong attachment to family, but we in India have very deep attachments. Precisely because the attachment is so strong, the value of tyāga is greater. When I took sannyāsa, Gurujī told me clearly, "I am not sure you will remain a sannyāsī if you stay here with me." My mother was Gurujī's elder sister. She would come and cry, "Why did he become a sannyāsī? We want him at home," and so on. Brothers and uncles would come. Gurujī said, "It will be a restless time for me. You will create an unnecessary problem here." So Gurujī sent me away. He went with me; nobody knew where I was. This lasted three years. Then, after four years, Gurujī brought me back respectfully to them. When I returned to my birthplace, the whole village celebrated. Only once did he go to my house to ask my mother for a picture, and that was all. Even now, if I go, I do not stay. They may come to see me, that is all. In certain cases, when someone died, I went, sat on the outside terrace for half an hour, blessed them, and left. Attachment will not let you go further; it pulls from both sides. There is a nice story from Mahātmā Gandhījī. Two donkeys were tied together with a single rope about three meters long. Green grass was placed five meters away on either side. The donkeys were hungry, standing in the middle. One donkey pulled toward its grass, the other pulled toward its grass. Though both wanted to eat, they remained stuck. When attachment is there, you cannot enjoy from either side—neither the parents nor you. Attachment does not mean you neglect them. You respect, help, and love them, but in a different way. In the story, one donkey eventually said, "Why should we not negotiate and have a mutual understanding?" The other asked, "What do you mean?" The first replied, "Come to me, I will show you." "But I want to eat first," said the second. "No, come, you can eat with me." So both came together, and they ate the grass. The tie of the rope was loosened. Similarly, with communication and understanding, you can partake. Otherwise, hanging in between, no one gets anything. The problem is we are too attached to the material world. It is not easy to die to it, not easy to renounce. But what you renounce will come back to you more than you think. Try it once. Otherwise, you are lost—neither here nor there. I, too, had great love and longing for my mother and brothers (my father had died). Sometimes, sitting alone on the bank of the Gaṅgā as a young man, I thought of them. But my Gurujī said, "Tyāga. Go, go even from me, far away. Finished." The farther I was externally, the nearer I was internally. And the nearer I am externally, the farther I can be internally. The inner Ātmā is one. Jīvātmā communicates, and that Jīvātmā finds happiness in renunciation, tapasyā, vairāgya, and tyāga. The Jīva says, "Finally, I have one hope: through this human body, I will merge into Brahman." As soon as you redevelop attachment, the Jīva says, "What is this karma? An obstacle, a rock, has come on my path." So listen to your Jīva. If attachment is too strong, merely taking on a dress or uniform does not change you. We must change inwardly. If you change inwardly, then your uniform has value. You are a soldier of Austria. If you go to war to shoot others but instead shoot your own soldiers, you did not understand. Of course, you should not shoot others either, but you are shooting your own. You perform actions unacceptable for your path. You can do nothing rightly then. So, tyāga. This is not merely material renunciation. It is inner renunciation: sadeva vāsanā tyāgaḥ. Sadeva vāsanā tyāgaḥ—that is pure vairāgya according to Jñāna Yoga and Ādiguru Śaṅkarācārya in his Aprokṣa Anubhuti. You should renounce inner desires, from earth to Brahmaloka, as if they were the dirt of a crow or the excrement of a dog. You must see that this saṃsāra has always been a source of great trouble for everyone. But you should use this saṃsāra as your path for development here. We use tools, but we should not become the tool. When work is done, we clean the tool and put it away. This body is a tool, but our ultimate aim is different. It will be a pity if we waste this human life. Manuṣya janam amolak he, bār bār nahī̃ pāyī, bhai tum jāgo re, terā avasar bītā jāye. This is a bhajan of Holī Gurujī. Manuṣya janam, human life, is amolak hīrā, a priceless diamond. Bār bār nahī̃ pāyī—you will not get it again and again. Once we leave this body, it is not certain we will return. We cannot borrow or buy this body; it is the only chance we have, be it human or animal. When the body is destroyed, it is gone. What a great, valuable opportunity is lost! Therefore, Horī Guru Mahāprabhujī said, "Mannā, sab khoyo re, kūṭaśālaṅga yo kīśaṅga. Oh my mind, you have lost everything." You lost it in the kūṭaśālaṅgas—the blackmailing, talking, and gossiping. Once, during a satsaṅg where Mahāprabhujī was sitting in Khattu and Horī Gurujī was present, some people sat at a distance, talking. A man came to the satsaṅg not to surrender but to speak negatively and blackmail others, to pull them away from Mahāprabhujī. He said to Gurujī, "Do you think Mahāprabhujī is Bhagavān? It is not so. In a field, there are many clods of earth. If these clods were sweet like honey, even foxes would not leave them; they would dig them up and eat them. So don't think Mahāprabhujī is like that." Gurujī was a young man of twenty-two. He stood up and kicked him, leaving him injured for life. Mahāprabhujī, sitting at a distance, asked, "Mādhavānand, what are you doing?" This means, if we do not tell Mahāprabhujī, we should not tell anyone, even our wife. If you wish to see guru bhakti, there was Mahāvalī Gurujī. Even if something goes wrong, Gurujī said that Mahāprabhujī is māyā, Mahāprabhujī is kṛpā (grace), Mahāprabhujī is miracles, Mahāprabhujī is līlā. This morning in satsaṅg, Gajānanda was translating a bhajan from Gurujī: "What do you know what Mahāprabhujī is?" The entire bhajan expressed this. What I wish to tell you, my dear ones, is that we should certainly eat good, healthy food for nourishment. We should practice āsanas, make movements, and do prāṇāyāma to remain healthy and preserve this body. At the same time, we should work. Merely sitting and meditating is neglecting yoga. Karmasu kauśalam: karma here means puruṣārtha. Yesterday we spoke of puruṣārtha: dharma, artha, kāma, mokṣa. Puruṣārtha siddhoi puruṣa. Puruṣārtha comes from puruṣa. Here, puruṣa does not mean male or female, but the human who is active, creative, and does good. That is it. So, who is working, active, doing good work? It is Puruṣa. But then it goes further to Puruṣa and Prakṛti. That Puruṣa can do nothing without Prakṛti, and Prakṛti can do nothing without Puruṣa. Puruṣa here includes both man and woman. Puruṣottama is the uttama, the best, in humanity. Tyāga is not only an Indian thought. You have seen a video of the holy saint Assisi. You know he gave away all the clothes on his body to the poor. "Take what you have from me," he said. He went for food, and they threw him out of the house. Can you see the tyāga of Assisi? The times were not favorable for sādhus here, but such saints have always existed. There have been many holy saints on every continent because this knowledge is given by the Supreme. It comes to humans, perhaps expressed differently, but it is the same essence. You need not teach them; it is within them. Khānā, pīnā, bhog, napā, śubh, param, sva, jan—eating, sleeping, procreating. Animals are also active. Actually, there is no lesson needed for animals regarding sex. Yet now in our schools, they teach about relationships and sex. What stupidity! You do not need to teach it; it happens automatically. It is not a subject for a seminar on how nature develops. In other words, love for God arises naturally—it does not matter if people live in caves; they also had great love and respect for the sun, God, water. That is called natural religion. That is Sanātana Dharma. It was not a man-made religion. When man-made religions came, conflict and duality arose in the human mind. We must return to the roots of nature. Mother or father, both are the same. Both have that communication from ātmā to ātmā, or jīvātmā to jīvātmā. Each and every cell in the body vibrates and receives communication from far distances. Love develops from afar, while jealousy and attachment arise in proximity where there is no love. Where there is love, there is no jealousy. Where there is no love, there is fear, and where there is fear, there is jealousy—the fear of losing. This morning we spoke about fear. So this communication, ātmā to ātmā, is a great communication of mercy, protection, and righteousness that we must attain. Otherwise, darkness prevails. The Pāṇḍavas and Kauravas—this morning I said that what is within us is all there is. Kṛṣṇa janeśu gītā, mata janeśu pītā. There was no external battle as such. But it is made into a compelling story so it is not forgotten. This story illustrates what can happen between brothers. There were three brothers: Pāṇḍu, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, and Vidura. Dhṛtarāṣṭra was the eldest but blind. Pāṇḍu was the second but ill and died. See how it can happen. These two armies exist within us: kāma, krodha, mada, lobha, moha, ahaṅkāra versus prem, karuṇā, dayā, bhakti, tyāga, tapasyā. These are the positive and negative qualities within us. That battlefield is inside. Do not think that when you have a moment of happiness, you have won. No. Until this life is complete, do not think you have won your battle. The battle is still ongoing. Our weakness is losing our battle. What are the kinds of weaknesses? Adhyātmik—spirituality, constantly contemplating Brahman, the Supreme. After all, where will you be? You will be there. Your memory, your feelings, all invisible things within you will go with you. What is visible or tangible will not. Pain, fear, sadness, anger, hatred—all this will go. That is what we say goes to the ancestors. It goes to the Pitṛloka. Someone wrote a beautiful article about Śiva and the Dvādaśa Jyotirliṅga. In Hindi, he wrote that establishing and worshipping the Śivaliṅga ensures freedom for seven generations. The soul is freed from Pitṛloka. I am installing one thousand eight Śiva statues in Jain. When I mentioned one thousand eight statues, you seemed surprised. I explained, and he said, "Very good." One thousand eight Śiva statues around the Dvādaśa Jyotirliṅga, where Śiva's jyoti manifests, with abhiṣeka performed three times daily. Years and years, my dear, the flower will die, but its fragrance remains. I will die physically, you will also go, but that will remain and benefit billions of people. That Śiva Liṅga and ashram will endure for many, many years. There you can perform pūjā with wishes for your ancestors. All will attain Brahmaloka. Brahmaloka is everything. This morning we spoke of nirguṇa God. Every religion believes in the nirguṇa when they pray: Muslims in Allah, we in Brahman, you in the Holy Father. The name differs, but it is nirākār, nirguṇa, nityam, śuddham, nirābhāsam. That is the greatest. So do something so that people will follow your footsteps. Through your sādhanā and tapasyā, your parents will attain liberation. Do it through your sādhanā, not merely through your testament. A girl came wanting to take sannyāsa but said, "We do not want to wear orange robes." Her parents objected. I said, "Why did you take sannyāsa? If not, renounce that idea." When you think, "What will they think?" then do not proceed. Are you the one who does not respect yourself? If you do not resolve this internally, it disturbs you. How? It disturbs me because I feel for that soul. All my dear ones sitting here, I love you so much. For the last forty-five years, I have been giving the same message. In this boat, those who drink the amṛta, the nectar of the Gurudev's wisdom, come and go, developing greatly. I tried to renounce. One day, Gurujī sent me from Ahmedabad to Mumbai. He put me on the train with only a ticket—no bag, nothing. The journey was eight or nine hours, and I grew hungry. What should I eat? Where? No one brought me prasāda. I would have been happy for that then. Luckily, I found ten paise in my pocket. With ten paise, you cannot buy much. The train stopped at Surat, where there are many banana fields. With ten paise, I got twelve bananas. I was so hungry! I ate five or six, and then near Mumbai, I ate again. That was the day I renounced, but sustenance came back. Why I spoke on this subject today is because I was sitting there, and everything followed me—food and such. I do not eat much, but if you renounce, it comes to you. Renounce inwardly, not outwardly. That is it. You are all on the right path. Keep to your path and do not get disturbed by anything in this world. Keep your path.