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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, also available in the so-called Iron Curtain countries like Czechoslovakia and Hungary. This research magazine studied mothers, children, fathers, and love. They had a pair of rabbits, male and female. The mother rabbit gave birth to three babies. After keeping the babies together for about a month, they took them away some hundred kilometers to another place. The mother did not eat for days; she was very sad. The father was also sad—they killed the father, and she was deeply affected. Simultaneously, the three babies were suddenly fearful. From that far distance, they killed one baby. The mother rabbit became very nervous and fearful, always looking up, not eating. Then they killed the second baby. Again, she trembled. They conducted this experiment—such an experiment 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 is like ultrasound waves. Similarly, our vṛttis, our thoughts, connect us to others. But we are too involved in the outer world and have lost that ability we spoke of this morning. Our external intellect, dwelling excessively in the outer, material world, has made us forget our inner world. Nevertheless, the soul feels everything. The soul is connected: a mother’s soul to her children’s souls, or a husband’s soul to his wife’s. This is a communication instrument which is not clear, and we are not consciously aware of it, but inside, yes. Though we try to understand, our vṛttis, our desires—sorry, our expectations—go elsewhere. But real love, what we call "God is love and love is God," that is real love. Material love is temporary; you never know when it will change. And when it changes, it brings sadness. It is temporary happiness. That other love is called ānanda, a love you cannot describe. That is the life that never dies. That love communicates soul to soul, even between animals and humans. In many cases, your husband may not know where you are sitting now, or your wife may not know. But your dog or your cat knows. So I do not know who is more highly developed. When you are about two streets away, that dog knows, yet you are in the neighbor’s house and your spouse does not. That is how far humans have drifted from their own reality, becoming more connected to the outer world. That soul-to-soul communication is perfect. A simple example: a hundred 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 there be? Or when you go to the water or the sea, there are hundreds of thousands of small fish. They all swim harmoniously. No one tells them, "Now go left, now go right." This is communication from soul to soul. We should develop that communication, and we must trust that God constantly directs us inwardly, guides us internally toward our satya path. What is important for a human? To gossip, pursue material life, blackmail, waste time? Or to remain on your path? If someone says, "Swāmījī, now change your path," and cites some great guru, do you think I will change? I might change, but I would lose my life, my development. This chain of sādhanā, built over years and years, should not break. It is not for gossiping; you should be sure. If you are not, you are still 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; for an Indian, it is very difficult to practice tyāga. Indians have more problems than you. You may not have as much attachment to family, but we in India have very deep attachment. 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 with me here." My mother was Gurujī's elder sister. She would come and cry, "Why did he become a sanyāsī? We want him at home," and so on. Brothers and uncles would come. Gurujī said, "It will be a restless time for me. Unnecessarily, you will create problems here." So Gurujī sent me away. He went with me; nobody knew where I was. This lasted three years. Then Gurujī brought me back, with full respect to them. After four years, I returned to my birthplace, and the whole village celebrated. Only once did he go to my house to ask my mother for a picture. That was all. Even if I go now, I do not stay. They may come to see me, that is all. In certain cases, when someone died, I went, sat on the terrace outside for half an hour, blessed them, and left. Attachment will not let you go further. Attachment 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 each 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 stood straining against each other. When attachment is there, you cannot enjoy from either side—neither the parents nor you. Attachment does not mean you neglect them. No. You respect them, help them, love them, but in a different way. In the story, one donkey finally said, "Why should we not negotiate and have a mutual understanding?" The other asked, "What do you mean?" The first said, "Come to me, I will show you." "But I want to eat first," said the other. "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 this 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. Of course, I also had great love and longing for my mother and brothers. My father had died. Sometimes I sat alone, very young, on the bank of the Gaṅgā. But I remembered my Gurujī's words: "Tyāga. Go, go even from me, far away. Finished." The farther I was outwardly, the nearer I was inwardly. And the nearer I am outwardly, the farther I am inwardly. The inner Ātmā is one. Jīvātmā communicates, and that Jīvātmā finds happiness in renunciation, in tapasyā, vairāgya, and tyāga. That Jīva says, "Finally, I have one hope, soul." Jīva means soul. "Finally, through this human body, I will merge into Brahman." As soon as you develop attachment again, Jīva says, "What is this karma? An obstacle, a rock, has come on my path." So listen to your Jīva. If Jīvātmā's 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. You went to war to shoot others, but instead you are shooting your own soldiers. You did not understand. Of course, you should not shoot others either, but you are shooting your own. You are performing actions unacceptable for your path. You can do nothing rightly then. So, tyāga. It is not merely material tyāga. The inner tyāga is 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 up 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, and will always be, a source of great trouble for everyone. But you can 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 in a room. This body is a tool. 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 this body from someone or buy it anywhere. This is the only chance we have, this human or animal body. When the body is destroyed, it is gone. What a great, valuable opportunity is lost! Therefore, Horī Guru Mahāprabhujī said, "Mannā, sab khoyo re, kūṭaśālaṅgas yo kīsaṅg. Oh my mind, you have lost everything." In the kūṭaśālaṅgas—the blackmailing, talking, gossiping—that is where it is lost. Once, there was a satsaṅg where Mahāprabhujī was sitting. Horī Gurujī was there in Khattu. Some people were sitting at a distance, talking. A man came to satsaṅg, but he was not fully surrendered or dedicated to Mahāprabhujī. He always came to speak negatively or to blackmail, to pull people away from Mahāprabhujī. He said to Gurujī, "Do you think Mahāprabhujī is Bhagavān? It is not so. There are many clods of earth in a field, many stones. When you plow the field, more clods come out. If these clods of earth were sweet like honey, even the fox would not leave them; it would dig them out and eat them. So don't think Mahāprabhujī is as you believe." Gurujī was a young man of twenty-two years. He stood up and kicked him. That man went through life with a limp. He had spoken against my Gurudev. Mahāprabhujī was sitting some distance away. He called out, "Madhavanand, what are you doing?" This means, if we do not tell Mahāprabhujī, we should not tell even our wife. If you wish to see guru bhakti, there was Mahāvalī Gurujī. Anything. Even if something goes wrong, Gurujī said that Mahāprabhujī is māyā, Mahāprabhujī is kṛpā, 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 of course we should eat good, healthy food for nourishment. We should practice āsanas, make movements, do prāṇāyāma to remain healthy and keep this body long-lived. But 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 that human who is active, creative, and does good. That is it. So, who is working, active, doing good work? It is Puruṣa. But further, it goes to Puruṣa and Prakṛti. That Puruṣa can do nothing without Prakṛti, and Prakṛti can do nothing without Puruṣa. Puruṣa here means not only man but also woman. Puruṣottama—uttama in puruṣa, the best in human. Tyāga is not only an Indian thought. You know this well. You have seen a video film of the holy saint Aṣiṣī. You know he gave away all the clothes he had on his body to the poor. "What you have from you, please, this ticket..." He went for food, and they did not give him food; they threw him out of the house. Can you see the tyāga of Aṣiṣī? The time was not right for any sādhu here? But this quality has always existed in humans. There have been many, many saints, holy saints, on this earth in every continent, because this knowledge is given by the Supreme. It comes to humans, perhaps expressed a little differently, but it is still the same. You need not teach them; it is within them. Khānā, pīnā, bhogā, na, pā, śubhi, param, sva, jan—eating, sleeping, and 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 stupid things! You do not need to teach anything; it happens automatically. It is a subject... I do not wish to say that word. The word Nāra... not a seminar about how Nāra develops in nature too. In other words, that love for God comes—it does not matter. Even people living in caves near the Tala also had great love and respect for some manifestation of God: sunshine, water. That is called natural religion. That is Sanātana Dharma. It was not a man-made religion. When man-made religion came, then conflict and duality arose in the human mind. So 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 is vibrating, receiving communication from far, far distances. Love develops from afar. Jealousy and attachment arise when there is distance because 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. This communication, ātmā to ātmā, is a great communication. It is a communication of mercy, protection, and righteousness that we must attain. Otherwise, there is darkness. The Pāṇḍavas and Kauravas—this morning I said that which is within us, there was nothing else. Kṛṣṇa jānesu gītā, mātā jānesu pītā. There was not exactly such a fighting. But this has been made into a very interesting, good story so that it will not be lost. This story shows what can happen between brothers. There were three brothers: Pāṇḍu, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, and... who was? Virāṭ? Dhṛtarāṣṭra was blind, the eldest. Pāṇḍu was second, but he was ill and died. You see how it can happen. But these are both armies within us: kāma, krodha, mada, lobha, moha, ahaṅkāra versus prem, karuṇā, dayā, bhakti, tyāga, tapasyā. These are the best qualities and the negative qualities within us. That battlefield is inside. Do not think that when you have a little happy hour, you are the winner. No. Until this life is complete, do not think you have won your battle. The battle is still not won. Our weakness is the losing of our battle. What were the kinds of weaknesses? Ādhyātmika—spirituality, constantly thinking of Brahman, the Supreme. After that is all, where will you be? You will be there. Your memory will be there. Feeling will be there. All invisible things we have inside will go with us. What is visible or touchable will not go. Pain, fear, sadness, anger, hate—all this will go. That is what we say goes to the ancestors. It goes to the... An ancestor... Someone wrote a beautiful article about Śiva and the Dvādaśa Jyotirliṅga. One Ācārya wrote in Hindi, saying, "Establishing and performing pūjā of Śivajī, the Śivaliṅga, ensures that the seventh generation will definitely be free." From the Pitṛloka, the soul is liberated. I am installing one thousand eight Śiva statues in Jain. When I said one thousand eight statues, you seemed surprised, asking if it was permanent. I said, "Yes, this is well." When you decide from within, you will do it. I explained, and he said, "Very good, very good. One thousand eight Śiva statues around the Dvādaśa Jyotirliṅga, where Śivajī's jyoti comes, and there are statues. Every day, three times, there will be abhiṣeka." Years and years, my dear, the flower will die, but its fragrance will remain. I will die physically, you also will go, but that will remain, and it will benefit billions of people. That Śiva Liṅga and ashram is not for a hundred years; it will last many, many years. There you can perform pūjā with wishes for your ancestors. All will attain Brahmaloka. This morning we spoke of nirguṇa God. In every religion, they believe in nirguṇa when they pray. In Islam, Allah; we call Brahman; you call Holy Father. The name is different, but it is nirākār, nirguṇa, nityam, śuddham, nirābhāsam. That is the greatest thing. So, do something so that people will follow in your footsteps. Through your sādhanā and tapasyā for your parents, they will attain liberation. Do it through your sādhanā, not through your testament. A girl came wanting to take sannyāsa, but she said, "We don't want to wear orange dress." Her parents... then I said, "Why did you take sannyāsa? Not anymore, renounce that." That is it. When you think, "What will they think?" then do not go. Are you the one who does not respect yourself? If you do not finish that within, it still disturbs you. How? It disturbs me. What do I have to do with this? Because I feel sorry 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 teaching. In this boat, those who drink the amṛta, the nectar of the Gurudev's wisdom, they come and go, developing greatly. I tried to renounce. One day, Gurujī sent me from Ahmedabad to Mumbai. He put me on the train, gave me only the ticket, nothing else. I had no handbag, nothing. The journey was about eight or nine hours, and I was hungry. Hungry now, what should I eat? Where should I eat? No one was there to bring me prasāda as they do now. I would have been happy then, but luckily I found ten paisa in my bag. I was lucky! Now I could eat something. But with ten paisa, you cannot buy anything. The train stopped at a station called Surat, where there are many banana fields. The train stopped, and there were bananas. With ten paisa, I got twelve bananas. Oh my God, can you imagine? I was so hungry, and I could eat. I ate only five or six, and then again, near Mumbai, I ate more. That was the day I renounced, but now it has come back. Why I spoke on this subject today is because I was sitting there, and everything was following me—eating this and that. I do not eat so much, but if you renounce, it comes. Renounce inwardly, not outwardly. That is it. So you are all on the right path. Keep to your path and do not get disturbed by anything in this world. Keep your path.