TV Channel

Bighṛī banānevāle Dātā, lākhoṁ praṇām. This is a bhajan from Holy Gurujī. Adorable Bhagavān Śrī Dīp Nār Mahāprabhujī, thousands upon thousands of salutations, praṇām. Bighṛī banāne vāle dātā, lākhoṁ praṇām — the One who can repair whatever goes wrong, hundreds of thousands of salutations to the Giver. Anahonī Guru kar sakhe, honī dete miṭāī, Parabrahma Gurudeva hai, sab kuch dete banāī. The Guru makes the impossible possible and cancels what is destined to happen. Because Gurudev is Parabrahma, He can make anything; He can do anything. Śrī Pūjya Dīpā Dayālu Datta lākhoṁ praṇām, Bighṛī banānevāle Datta lākhoṁ praṇām. All of this is written in Līlāmṛta. In Līlāmṛt these events actually happened. You know, in Kathu a Muslim came with his son, a small child who was blind. He approached Mahāprabhujī and said, “Khaṭṭū Kepīr” — meaning the saint of Khattu. “You always help the Hindus. Do you also help Muslims? I have come to you, O Mahāprabhujī. My child is blind. Can you give him eyesight?” Mahāprabhujī replied, “There is no difference between Hindu or Muslim. These religions are different only because people do not understand God. All are equal. Ultimately, we are human. We were born as humans. No one had a stamp on the body at birth saying ‘Hindu,’ ‘Muslim,’ or ‘Christian.’ So you are welcome. You have the same right as others.” Then there is a plant, a wild plant from the fig family, growing wild. When you break one leaf of that plant, a white milky sap oozes out, quite a few drops, at least a teaspoon. But it is said to be poisonous. If it falls on the skin, you get blisters. Mahāprabhujī said to that man, “Put one drop of this milk of the Ākhāṛā — we call it Ākhāṛā — in his eyes. But know that if you put it in, normally your eyes would be destroyed forever; even the eyeball would be consumed. Many will refuse, but those who have faith can do it.” That man, a Muslim, had immense faith in Mahāprabhujī. In the whole area of Kathu people hold deep respect for Mahāprabhujī, and near the āśram plenty of such plants grow. He put a single drop. It burned and was intensely unpleasant, yet both eyes regained their sight. Thus He who gave one eye could give eyes to the blind. In Līlāmṛt you will find all these stories. So this bhajan sings: thousands, millions of times my adoration to the Lord Mahāprabhujī. It is easy to say, but difficult to do. We may think we are the best, that we are good — we are academics, we are scientists, we are doctors, psychologists, and so on — but all this fails before supernatural power, and not everyone possesses it. Still, we have to work hard. That is why our Gurudev is seated here. We worship in their name, hoping that what we do may help. Yet we do not know our future; we do not know what will happen tomorrow. But they know what will happen tomorrow. They know if your wish will not be fulfilled because afterward you would become completely different, turned negative. So they can see what will unfold. It was around 1976 or ’78; I remember this story well. I went to my room and did not sleep. I was leaning against the wall on my bed, repeating the mantra and thinking of Mahāprabhujī. After half an hour or forty minutes, on the edge between sleep and waking, Mahāprabhujī appeared. He blessed me and then asked what I wished. You see, when difficulties appear suddenly and they ask you, you become so nervous that you cannot ask what you truly wanted to ask. Many times Mahāprabhujī came, but what I asked was not what I would have liked to ask Him. I said, “Mahāprabhujī, it is wonderful that you give me darśana, but I wish that all your bhaktas, who fast the whole day and sit in the altar room — could you give them darśana? They are your great, great bhaktas. They are ready to give their life for you.” I remember Mahāprabhujī replied, “You think like that? In reality they are not bhaktas. Few will remain; others will disappear.” And it happened exactly like that. So, where is our future? They know; we do not know. It is not easy to be a bhakta. It is easy to dig a cave in the rock of a mountain, but it is not easy to be a bhakta. It is not easy to plant bhakti in the heart. And when you truly have bhakti, then if God asks, “What do you want?” the answer is only one: devotion to Thy Lotus Feet. Gurujī writes in Līlāmṛta: Several times Mahāprabhujī asked, “Do you want samādhi? Do you want siddhi?” He replied, “What will I do with these? Please give me only one blessing: if I take birth again, let me be Thy servant, so that I can serve You, I can be with You.” Therefore a bhajan says: “O Gurudeva, bless me with bhakti, devotion. If I get a new birth, please do not separate me; that I may serve Thee.” That bhakta is born again wherever Gurudev goes. So if we are born again, we should have devotion to that. Thus devotion, bhakti, is not easy. It is said: Kali yuga kevala nāma ādhāra, sumira sumira nara uṭhī bhavapāra. In Kali Yuga the Name alone is the support; by remembering and remembering, a person crosses over the ocean of existence. But this is not mere devotion. As long as you feel nice and good, yes; but when some test comes, strictness arrives, then you pack your things and leave. This needs gī (ghee), and I said I would tell the story of ghee. The story of ghee means God. It will come — it is a good story. All the saints who write bhajans do so from their own experiences. The singers and artists who produce songs are merely on the surface. So Sūrdās, Mīrābāī, Holī Gurujī, Mahāprabhujī, Kabīrdās, and many, many saints wrote bhajans as expressions of their own experiences. This talent of devotion does not come easily; it comes when a certain cakra awakens. Every one of us has experienced terrible situations in life — if not in this life, then in past lives, distant past lives. That remains in the memory of some, not clearly but they know; others have forgotten. When certain terrible things happen — tragedies, pain — one no longer desires any further life; only mokṣa, only liberation, is the way. Deep in their heart, because of fear born of loss, pain, loneliness, torture, and many other things, these impressions awaken in different cakras. We are not fully aware of exactly what they are, but they are there. That is why we cling to God and pray to God that it should not happen again, and if birth happens again, please let me remain in Your seva. That will prevent it from happening again. So the devotee says: O Lord, in the next life, even if I must be born as a dog, please give me the shelter of the lotus feet of the saints, the āśram, the holy place. That jīvātmā possesses this depth of feeling; others do not — they have forgotten. At that time negative thoughts arise: how can karma attack again? A very nice, joyful life suddenly becomes terrible because we lost God from the heart, the memories. Again He reminds us in a pleasant way, but we will not follow, we will not believe. So it is said: Jisko Prabhu dhare dukh dehī, uskī buddhi pahile hī har lehī. When God decides to give suffering to someone, He first takes away that person’s intellect. God knows that this person has to be punished because of many, many karmas, many layers of negative energies. But God does not want to take it upon Himself directly. So what does God do? He removes his buddhi; the buddhi becomes polluted. Then we turn against everything, and thus karma sets in. Before the suffering attacks, our thoughts change, become negative. All this is stored on different levels. The cakras, which we have been discussing for many days — Maṇipūra is the place of immortality. Actually, the residence, the residing Jīvātmā, is at the navel. When you attain immortality, the nectar from the Bindu Cakra is stored in the navel. In certain cases, until this center is attacked or destroyed, you will still not die; it may become a chemical death where the brain slowly dies, but life remains in the navel. So the Bindu Cakra, or Maṇipūra Cakra, is the center of our whole body. There is the Jīvātmā. Tāṁ bolo, āye jīvātmā. The nāḍīs that run along the spine, these nāḍīs are responsible for the brain. The brain holds all the centers for the function of the various organs. We can operate on or damage any nerve; it may not matter. But these three nerves are connected to the brain. A small brain hemorrhage, and the body is paralyzed. That is why people are afraid to have spinal operations — these nerves should not be touched, do not disturb them. In Kuṇḍalinī awakening and sādhanā we have to purify these nāḍīs, and they essentially begin from Maṇipūra Cakra. Mūlādhāra is the earth cakra; mūla means foundation, like roots. Svādhiṣṭhāna lies in the subconscious, between the earth and the sun. Mūlādhāra is below the earth, from where the lower lokas begin, and above are the upper lokas. The connection with different elements, different bhūtas, bears different names. Everything is connected to those cakras. Every cakra is extremely important. If one cakra is disturbed, the whole house will collapse. In the same way, poison can also be very helpful; poison can save our life, and poison can kill our life, depending on quantity, timing, and manner. Nothing that God gave in our body is useless or incapable of harm. Therefore, be careful. Enjoy your life in this life, but do something. Maṇipūra is the cakra of fire. Fire is the Viṣṇu principle, and from there consciousness begins to awaken. So Suṣupti, the dormant or sleeping state, is Mūlādhāra; Svapna, the astral state, is Svādhiṣṭhāna; and Jāgrat, the awakened state, is Maṇipūra. We oscillate within twenty-four hours among these three cakras, or these three levels of consciousness: dream, sleep, and awakening — Jāgrat, Suṣupti, and Svapna. But the jīvātmā knows. When we dream, our body is not aware, yet there is someone who says, “I am dreaming.” In the dream we know we are dreaming, and in dreaming you can die, be born, marry, have a family, dream again and die again, and be born again. That is the miracle of dream. What is time, and what is reality? Time was made by man; God did not make time. We made it, we count it. A devotee said, “Mahādev, Bholenāth, Devādhideva, Śiva, I am your devotee. Please tell me, what are the miracles or the māyā of your glory? You have created time here on this earth. Can you tell me how powerful time is, and how long time is? And if a soul is bound — if we are bound to time…” Near a pond or a lake, Śiva said to his bhakta, “Can you swim? Seriously? Then jump in the water and dive in.” So he jumped in. Now, what did he dream? What did he feel? He died. He thought, “O Śiva, you did not want to answer me, and you did not want to meet me as a burden again and again. You killed me.” He went to some other loka and spent an immense span of time, yugas, in the śūnyākāśa. Then he was born again as a farmer, married, living a happy life with children — about twelve or thirteen, that is nothing. The queen — or what was the Austrian empress, Maria Theresia — had fourteen children, or sixteen. She simply didn’t have more time; otherwise she would have had even more. Sixteen is normal. You know, when sādhus die — when a sādhu passes away — we hold the Sorasī Bandhāro ceremony after sixteen days. Why? Because there are sixteen Kalās, and God Kṛṣṇa possesses the sixteen Kalās. A Pūrṇapuruṣa, a complete being who realizes completeness as a human, has the sixteen Kalās; such a one is known as a Siddha, a perfect yogī. And this Kāla follows; Kāla means the time count, you might say. The moon from new moon to new moon comes in sixteen days. So the queen had a total of sixteen children. That farmer lived a good life, many children; one was massaging one hand, another the shoulder, another the leg. He was a happy grandfather and died. Again he went to other lokas, and while enjoying some lokas, he was born again as a nomad, a gypsy, traveling everywhere. One king died; the king had no son, no successor. As you know, when a king has no children, many kings come to serve and help him in order to gain the kingdom. But the king had a very loyal elephant. So the king proclaimed to all, “When I die, choose the king — but not you, my elephant shall choose. Place a beautiful mālā in my elephant’s trunk, and on whomever’s neck my elephant places that flower garland, that person shall be king. It does not matter who they are. This is my last will.” Many, many people came and sat in a row. Many princes and kings came; some held a basket full of laddus because they thought the elephant might eat them. They brought nice fruits; someone brought a fine bundle of fresh green leaves. On the chariot, on the king’s chair, lay a beautiful flower garland. The elephant was somewhere else, so they instructed the elephant, “Please go to the king.” The elephant came and walked straight to where the king’s chair stood. As the elephant approached, everyone watched. And you know, the elephant had a very, very gentle smile. Did you ever see the smile of an elephant, the smile of Gajānana? The elephant reached the chair, took the mālā with his trunk, and held it raised, touching it to his forehead in respect — adoration to the king, his dear elephant. That is why the king trusted him. Now the elephant moved forward; everyone was holding laddus, some making heads like this, offering a laddu, displaying their necks, hoping for the garland. The elephant cared neither for laddus nor fruits nor anything. The elephant has very small eyes, but its vision is extremely wise — that is why Gaṇeśa is so revered. He looked over the entire audience, scanned everywhere, then turned back. Again he looked, glanced at the king’s chair and turned away, leaving the assembly. People said, “This is a stupid elephant; now he is going away. We should fight to see who is strong enough to become king.” The elephant stopped and simply stood still. About half a kilometer or a kilometer away, a gypsy family was passing. The father of the family was seated on a cart. The elephant went there, stopped in front of the cart, and placed the mālā around the gypsy’s neck. They all came forward, adored him, and made him king. He enjoyed a long king’s life, and one day he died — and came up out of the water. Only seven seconds had passed. He said to Śiva, “How many yugas went by?” Śiva replied, “You were only six seconds in the water.” So time is beyond our imagination. That time is different from this time. We could look into Vedic mathematics and the science of yugas. There are units called kṣaṇa, kṣaṇa, pala, ghaḍī. One kṣaṇa is one thirty-ninth — how do you call them? — divided, is one kṣaṇa, one second. One second is divided thirty-nine times and multiplied. Can you imagine the speed of time? That is our jīvātmā; our consciousness follows this. So this life of ours is only a second’s life, that is all. All this is science, cosmic science. But it is too complicated for us. Let it be and enjoy whatever it is. So enjoy this life; what will happen will happen. Gurudev will take care of everything, and we will face whatever complications come. But how should we face them? Dīp Nārāyaṇ Bhagavān Jī, Devā Dī Devā, Deveśvara Mahāve Satguru Svāmī Mādhavānandjī Bhagavān Jī. Oṁ Śānti.