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He is so engrossed, spending and spending money on them—“Laṭṭū hai aisā kartā kartā un par paisā”—only to receive that which is priceless, without any price: satsaṅg. But one is not worthy to enter into it. Every single breath is a priceless diamond. It is not worthy of being squandered. “Yoṁ luṭāne ke kābil nahīṁ hai.” One day, O man, where will your dwelling be? It will be a place that the full solution, such as this, is not capable of describing. Every breath is a priceless diamond; it is not worthy of being squandered—not worthy of being squandered. Thus, the bliss of Brahman is explained; it does not come again and again. “Yoṁ brahmānand samajāve bār bār nahī̃ āve.” The conscious thread has not been cut. “Śetan sūtū kiyā nahī̃ kād.” Liberation is not possible; every breath is a priceless diamond. It is not worthy of being squandered, not worthy of being squandered. It is not worthy of being lost in this way, not worthy of being accepted like this, not worthy of being accepted. Speak! The most venerable Viśvaguru Maheśvarānandajī Mahārāj tells us: time is very precious. These bhajans, O noble ones, strike only one bhajan! Why? You spread the message, O emperor-like cow mothers, but it is not worthy of being accepted. “Har śaṅs anmol hīrā hai, yoṁ luṭāne ke kābil nahīṁ hai.” The cow serves while alive; while alive, the cow gives milk, gives curd, gives ghee, gives dung, gives urine, and even after death its hide and skin come to use. “Minak mungo jān rakhe, minak pāno sab jīve. Āp samān jāne, āp tāno guṇ binā paśu samān. Ajīya gal tāno minak mungo jān rakhe, minak pāno.” So the cow, while living, earns through service, and even after dying, it is useful. O man, your body—after death, it is not even capable of being of use! Human beings have forgotten how to value time. Time is money. “Samayī dāne kyoṁ maiṁ ek bhajan rūhī kiyoṁ?” You have not learned to be human. Everyone laughs heartily, but you have not learned to weep at others’ sorrow. Outwardly, everyone washes their clothes, but you have not learned to clean the inner dirt. Everyone reads and eats, but you have not learned to sow something for the future. Humanness has become a mere century away from humanity. Such a beautiful body was made for you, with so many things, but you forgot the Giver. He is not worthy of being forgotten. Why do you squander, infatuated by favors, on actions? People spend money on them, on cow mothers, on some saint’s ashram, on some orphanage; some spend money, some spend money on television. They spend on actions, infatuated by favors, on them, too, money—and they get something priceless, without cost: satsaṅg. Satsaṅg, but you are not worthy of entering into it. Do not take this great river of satsaṅg; whoever wishes may do so. The heart is stained with sin—take it, whoever wishes. You speak lies, you gossip, you sing dirty songs with gusto. Who will sing the Lord’s kīrtan? Who will sing the glories of the Sadguru? Singing impure songs, one’s mind becomes defamed. Darling, for you, you speak lies, gossip, sing dirty songs with gusto. Now, your tongue is not worthy of singing the Lord’s songs. You wander around having consumed so much milk, yet you die again and again after birth. Your head has become so heavy with burden that you are not even worthy of bowing before the saints. You have received the dance of a hundred deeds; flowers have bloomed in a good garden. But you did not serve your mother and father; you are not worthy of coming into this world. At every turn of life, let the kindness of golden memories remain. Let there be compassion in the heart, modesty in the eyes, a smile on the lips—“Zindagī ke har moḍ par, sunahrī yādoṁ kā ehsān rehne do, dil mein dayā, āṅkh mein śaram, hoṭhoṁ par muskaan rehne do.” This is the way to live in life, friends: neither be sad yourself, nor let your enemies remain sad. In life, one must attain the secret of life; one must renounce restlessness and unrighteousness. One must keep the mind and senses under control; one must know oneself and remain blissful. “Jindagī mein jindagī kā rāj pānā cāhiye.” Make your life such; if it does not change your own life, what use is that life which is among the living? You want to live. So, to live, have faith and create a heaven in the sky; then take that heaven and place it on the earth—perform true actions. Then, understanding the void, the five elements, the yuga, and the bliss of Brahman, one does not attain that dance again and again. “To śūnya tattva pañca meṁ yug brahmānanda samjhe, vah bār bār nartan nahīṁ pāve.” If you lose the opportunity, then you are not worthy of attaining liberation. A great soul has arrived; time is very precious. Time is money, and money is good. O mother, why so much? Grant a pause to my speech. “Gologau mā tetī.” Jai ho! The sādhvī has come, O newly arrived one. May you live long; do sanchalan. May you take the name of the Lord; may you listen to bhajans. Sādhavījī, you have arrived overflowing with bhajans; keep your own thoughts, keep your own discussions, keep your own bhajans. Say: “Rāmjī Mahārāj jī, jaya ho, jaya ho,” do great compassion. This is how it is. Gau Mātā is not Gau Mātā. In the house of the jhākā, there is Gau Mātā. In the house of the jhākā, there is Tulsī, the grandson. And in the house of the jhākā, there is the idol of Guru Mahārāj. That is the house. In the Hindu religion, Sanskrit, Sanātana religion, it is counted. And if there is no cow in the house of the jhākā, then what is that? If I don’t say that, it’s a little more than Bhajan Gāon. Time is money. I will say it again and again that time is money. I am more of a beggar. I don’t think it’s right. It’s a small thing, but it’s a very important thing. It’s useful in life. Rājā Bhartṛhari, the time when he took the yoga, he went to the kingdom. Rājā Bhartṛi was the king, a Cakravartī. Jai Ho, Gopīcand and Rājā Bhartṛi were brothers. So Rājpāth went out to the forest in the middle of the city, and the children were studying in the school. The teacher was taking the examinations, and if they pass the examinations, then there is admission to the next class, and if they fail, then there is no admission. So the teacher was also taking the examinations to see if the students were real or fake. So for a month and a half, Rājā Bhartṛhari took the examinations. Yes, in the forest, in the garden, in the river… He is the king of the kingdom. He is the king who rules the kingdom… Karatā Mahāprabhujī, Karatā… Bikārī, now if he comes, I will do everything for everyone. “Chāyā jā ye jagśarī, main un kā hūṅ bikārī yeho.” O, tell me, do not hide: you die of hunger, you … “mānā ghaṇḍ meṅ jīm le.” “Jan tharā rājā ne pūj, ke man kyūṅ jīmā ho.” And why would anyone eat? O Dharma! Who would eat? You are a beggar, you beg, you die of hunger—O Dharma! The king of the people has performed worship; who is the mother of dharma? “Dharmrī māṅ kūn hai? Dharmrī māṅ kūn hai? Dharamrī mã hai dayā, dharamrī mã hai dayā…” The mother of dharma is compassion. If we consider them as beggars, then they are not beggars. They are not heroes. If we look at them, they are like light. They are like dead beings. What do they do? They are like God. They are like fire. Everything burns in them. For this, they are like light. “Abaralā Sādhu Santakī Me Koī Ālos Nāth Gond Gond, Śrī Bandā Lage Dādī Yuṅg Baḍāvatā Takī.” In the light of the stars, the moon is not hidden, the sun is not hidden. The clouds, the shade, the battlefield, the brave warrior are not hidden. The giver is not hidden. The restless one came, the fickle hell is not hidden. Love is not hidden. The son showed this yogī’s form. Many do your own, karma is not hidden. Much has delighted. I bow. Why? The mother of dharma is compassion. And Dharma’s father is contentment. Why? In the jewel among kings, Manu, in the small fragment of scripture, contentment is described as having fifty-six virtues. It asks for thousands, lakhs, fourteen, twenty, fifty, seventy-two, seventy, seventy… “70 Bhūp Bayo Vīragī Itnā Kekar Ke Merī Vāṇī Ko Virām Detahun.” Suddenly someone comes, he is called a guest. In hunger something is found, it is called food. One who helps a poor person is called wealthy. One who serves the cow mother is said to give a great donation. One who serves mother and father is called a true child. One who has known himself is called a human being. Art is life. Jai ho. Aśvag Jī, dholak player. Paramāṁśī Yogī Rāj Svāmī Śrī Meśvarānandajī Mahārāj.