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O Viśvamādevakī, Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān, Mādhava Kṛṣṇa Bhagavān, Sanātana Dharma kī Naisī Mantrase Hove Mañjana, Naisī Mantrase Jāṅsrī Dīpa Nirañjana. Sabadhukap Prabhudīpa Nirañjana, Sabadhukap Dīpa Nārāyaṇa. Bhagavān Kī Sādhanā, every sādhanā karthā sādhanā needs dedication. You know, the Sanātana Dharma is known as a living Dharma. What does living Dharma mean? Living means alive. What is a non-living dharma? It has a final closing. After that, it is no more. That kind of knowledge we call Vāsī knowledge—stale, like food from yesterday being served today. But the Sanātana is living. Sanātana Dharma does not refer to any particular dharmas that exist only now, because the root of all is Sanātana. As societies develop and become more civilized, with education, academic titles, professional documents, diplomas, certificates, and all that grows stricter day by day, we see the Guru Principle at work. Guru does not simply mean what we call a spiritual master. We all know “gu” means darkness, and “ru” means light—the darkness of ignorance and the light of knowledge. When a child reaches the age of one and a half, two, three years, grandparents or parents guide the child: put this there, look, place it here again—certain things. Then nursery school, primary school, high school, college, university. Every teacher who teaches us something is our guru. That is why we call him master—English master, Hindi guru. A professor, a dean, a Satguru. Every faculty has its head for every different profession. Consider this: there was some doctor or professor, a surgeon, who wrote very clearly, in great detail, how to perform various operations. And that professor passed away. His or her knowledge remained in the books. It is not lost. But if you only study that book and know it by heart, you might say, “I don’t need any diploma. I know the tools, I know the techniques, and I know how to do it. I can do brain surgery.” Which country will allow that? Which hospital will hire such a person for the operation theater? No. One has to go through the learning and training of a living professor or doctor. Even the electrical worker—they are our guru. Your driving teacher is your driving guru. Kole Yevash, Teacher of Chauffeurs. Music Teacher, Yoga Teacher, Ātmā Jñāna Teacher. This is Sanātana Dharma, and that is what is called a living religion. Religion must not be fanatical. Religion must not be just standing and praying, praying, praying. Agarbattis, incense. When we burn incense, mosquitoes become very angry. They think, “What are these humans doing?” So this is a symbol: when something good and pure comes into our hands, it becomes for us divine and holy. And that is what we do, but we can also pray without it. God will not say, “Why didn’t you bring the agarbatti?” Anyhow, if God is now only a picture here, He cannot smell; but He does smell our bhāva. Sanātana Dharma has created all the cakras, and it is Sanātana Dharma that sets the boundaries. Every cakra must be there; one cakra cannot jump to another place. It is not possible. So the Guru Paramparā is Ādi, and from the beginning until the end it will remain. That is why many dharmas came, many systems came and disappeared—but Sanātana did not. It is the only one that can give us knowledge: all kinds of knowledge, all professions. Similarly, the Vidyā—what we call knowledge—comes from the Master. One way is, “I am learning and I will use it,” fine. But the second is that love. When Droṇācārya refused one student because he belonged to the tribes from the mountains—he had a school only for princes and kings—Ekalavya came and asked Droṇācārya, “Gurudev, can I also learn?” He said, “What is your name? What is your family background?” So Ekalavya replied, “I am a tribal; I am from the forest.” The tribes are the original inhabitants of a land: the American Indians, the Mexicans of the Inca and Maya cultures, then the Maoris, the Australian Aborigines, the Africans—these are the tribes. From the beginning, their generations have been there. And we, for the most part—please don’t mind if I say it—are like gypsies, and what we call other people, nomads. We move here and there. Many of you do not know where your grandfather came from. Many of you do not know from where all the tenth generation passed. We have no roots. Our roots are rotten. We don’t know in which blood, in which culture we have in our blood—how mixed it is. That is also very good. We call it pulav, a nice mix of rice and beans, dal, and spices. Droṇācārya said, “I am sorry, I cannot teach you because you are not from a royal family, and this is only a royal college.” Ekalavya said, “Thank you, Gurudev,” and went away. After fifty meters he came back and asked Droṇācārya, “Gurudev, who is that student you are teaching now, outside of school hours?” Droṇācārya answered, “This is my son. Is he a royal prince?” Droṇācārya was sweating. He said, “No, he is not, but he is my son.” “Gurudev, is this a gurukul?” “Yes.” “Thank you.” And he left. But when he uttered that one word, “Gurudev,” he accepted him as a Gurudeva. He went back to his village in the mountains and made a beautiful statue from clay of Śukrācārya. Every day he used to pray to him, with morning discipline, Brahmamūrti. He practiced his archery, his bow and arrow. And when he failed, he would put down the bow and arrow, fall to his knees, and say to Droṇācārya, “Gurudev, sorry, forgive me. I will try again through your blessing.” In this way, he learned archery and became one of the best in the world. Secondly, Droṇācārya had promised Arjuna—you know, in the Bhagavad Gītā it says, “Abhyāsa, abhyāsa, Kuntī, abhyāsa. O son of Kuntī, Arjuna, practice, practice, practice.” Practice makes a master. Even at night, at two o’clock, Arjuna would get up and practice his archery. That is called Lāgan. Lagan means deciding to do this, only this. Lento moyā lagilā, ganagu nanakī moyā lagilā. A caraṇa binā kasunai bhāve āyā, sab sapananakī caraṇa binā moyā jagamayā. Arjuna became great. There was a test: they hung from the ceiling a picture of a fish, like a circle. You know the picture, Yin and Yang. Exactly below was water; they placed a water pot. Very clean, pure water below, dark-colored, so you could see your face as in a mirror. Through some technique, that picture, which was round, was made to move like a wheel, clockwise. Now, the rule was: the winner will be the one who does not look up. The picture is reflected down. You can try it today. Many failed, but Arjuna succeeded. Another test: there was a sitting bird at the top of a tree. “Shoot at that bird. Do you see the bird?” Many said, “Yes, yes.” When they asked Arjuna, he said, “I don’t see the bird. I see only the eye of the bird. In which direction will it move?” He was that accurate. Now Arjuna was thinking, “I am the champion, the world champion.” So for the next test they went into the forest a few kilometers away, with a dog. They went in the direction where Ekalavya was practicing. The dog smelled him and started barking, running: “Who is there?” Ekalavya was practicing, and the dog was noisy, so Ekalavya gathered his arrows and shot them so quickly into the dog’s mouth that in no time the whole mouth was full. Yet not even a small injury was found in the dog’s mouth. The dog couldn’t close its mouth, couldn’t make noise—it was making gestures but not falling down. The dog went back to Droṇācārya, and the Pāṇḍavas were astonished. Arjuna said, “Gurudev, you promised me I would be the best. Who is this?” There are many like this. How many are there? I am only in the darkness; I cannot do what that artist has done. Droṇācārya said, “I don’t know. Let’s go.” They went into the forest and saw a young man wearing only one cloth, a lungi, practicing. Animals were flying in the air. Droṇācārya asked, “Hey boy, who are you?” He said, “Gurudev! I am your disciple. How happy I am to see you!” “Who taught you this?” “You, Gurudev.” Arjuna said, “What?” Gurudev said, “No, I didn’t teach you. Do you remember, Gurudev? I came to the gurukula and you sent me back. But your kṛpā was with me. I made a statue. Every day I pray. Whenever I make a mistake, I ask for pardon. So it is you who inspire me, who teach me.” Droṇācārya said, “Yes, you have passed your examination, but now you must give gurudakṣiṇā. Otherwise, your practice will not be completed.” He answered, “Yes, I am ready. What do you want?” Droṇācārya said, “I want your right thumb.” Immediately, he had a knife and he cut it off. And with a banana leaf, he offered his thumb. Now he could no longer be the best at shooting the arrow, because Droṇācārya had promised Arjuna would be the best. But Ekalavya was always the best. So this story speaks of honesty, faithfulness, and obedience. Many, many things we can learn when we have that lagan. Do not think that Gurudev is somewhere else and you can do as you please. I recall one event—not a story but something that happened—told to me in front of the people in Kathu. In Kathu, where we have this Śivabhāga Āśram in the village, there was a small room of Mahāprabhujī. Then some bhaktas built two rooms, and Mahāprabhujī left. From time to time, when Gurujī used to go to Kathu, he would stay in that room. One bhakta, named Rāmakaraṇa, was there. He was sleeping in the room with Gurujī. At eleven o’clock, Gurujī said, “Rāmakaraṇa.” He said, “What, Gurujī? You are not sleeping?” “No, no… my suitcase is under my bed. I can’t sleep because there is a Līlā Amṛit in the book, or in the suitcase. I can’t sleep over it. Please put it out.” “Okay, go to sleep.” After two hours, Gurujī said, “There is a comma between my shirt. There is a small picture of Gurujī, Mahāprabhujī. I can’t sleep. Please take this and put it up.” Then Gurujī went to sleep. He told this story because I had asked him to speak on the opening day. He said, “I don’t know anything; what can I tell? What I can only tell you all may not understand, but for me it was a great lesson. Some people may think it is stupid, but for Gurujī it was not like that.” That is called bhakti. That is the bhakti between guru and disciple, or bhakta and bhagavān. It shows that love can melt the rock, while intellect can explode the rock. That is the difference between love and intellect. So Mahāprabhujī is love. Yes. That love, that devotion, will bring us there—not techniques. You may do something to get some miracle or magic, black magic or white magic, but then you have to suffer for that. But it is that love that brings you there. So what Mahāprabhujī’s… Pājan Dīpādayālaya Rājasum Prabhudīpādayālaya Rājasum Okārkirpāmoje Satas O Kār Kirpā Moyesha Jo Śrī Dīpādayālaya Prabhudīpādayālaya. So bhakti, devotion, and faith in Gurudev can make us perfect. We think we know—yes, you may know much better than me. But what I know, you don’t know, and I know what is better for you. So, a Gurudeva knows. Argument? No. Give, give. Droṇācārya said, give your thumb. He didn’t ask what and why. Just accept and say, “Here you are, Gurudeva.” That’s it. Argument is not good. And at the end, who is right? The Master. Master, no arguments. I just had a telephone call—this and that—with Jñāneśvar, Mahāmaṇḍaleśvar, Śrī Jñāneśvarjī, you know. He argues a lot. I told him, “Don’t talk, do this.” I said, “This is a dictionary of…” A computer, not someone who has studied under a master—so of course he does his best to show himself as the best. That’s great. To show oneself as the best is not good, rest. So maybe it was not Jñāneśvarjī, but someone else—but it’s good for him. Deeper, so the webcast will be in the evening, my dear. The webcast will be in the evening. Hari Om. Devī Śiva Mahādeva. Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān. Madhav Krishna Bhagwān. Om Śānti.