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Time waits for no one. It does not matter what we do. There are many remedies, diets, sports, and yogas, but the continuity of our life will not stop. Like the sun rises and sets, we can do whatever we want, yet the night will still come. I recall a story about a poet from Calcutta. He was standing on the bank of the Gaṅgā, which is very wide there, like a big lake. He had gone for a walk. Every person, whatever their profession or habit, always thinks about it. If you have a problem with your wife, you go for a walk thinking about her. A farmer thinks about preparing his field. A spiritual person thinks of spirituality. This poet saw the beautiful blue sky as the sun was slowly setting. He poured his whole being into the sun, wondering: What is the sun thinking at the end of the day? Similarly, our elderly parents think about their last days. Soon, we too will think, "What will I do?" Like our president, Mansukhrām, might think his time is gone and someone else will take over. He may not care for the position, but he thinks: "How many years did I carefully and neutrally take care of this umbrella?" He wonders what will happen with the next committee. Parents also think: "How will my children take care of my things, my work, my house, everything? Will they carry the name and fame of my family or not?" The poet looked at the sun, now with less light, and projected his thoughts onto it. We are young and think we can do everything. Yes, but the day will come when you remember your days of 10, 20, 30, 50 years, and feel what was in your hands is slipping away. We think a lot about youth, but very little about the old. Even doctors often don't give proper treatment; it is seen as a burden. "Let old people go." Some countries even suggest injections after a certain age. The old person is still in life, having breakfast, washing dishes, but a doctor might say, "You should give this injection." We don't need them, like an old dress you throw away. You may change dresses, but that doesn't make you young. If the old one is okay, the same color, leave it. What is needed is strength, love, and values. Many admire this. What will you think if I come next time in jeans, cut here and there? You will stand and say, "This is not a Swāmījī." So, this does not make us young or old. We have wisdom; that is the most important thing. As soon as you begin to get gray hair, feel proud! After hard work and life, going through many situations, you finally become wise. It was hard to get these white or gray hairs. Those who color their hair are still hiding. Let your reality come. In white or gray hair is the wisdom, my dear. You may put color, but the skin will tell it is not right. We call it Nakhra, which means blim-blam—pretense. This is not reality, not real gold, only color. The wisdom we have gained in life will go with us. If you did not collect wisdom, you will be so afraid to die. The poet looked at the sun, now half a meter high, soon to dive into darkness. The sun said to the poet, "Why are you so sad?" It said, "All day I took care of this world—warmth, light, vision. But my day also ends. How will they survive in the dark?" Then the poet saw an old man with white hair walking, and in a Śiva temple, a bell rang for prayer. There was a beautiful light, a dīpak. He looked at that flame and got inspiration: the sun has a support. The flame said to the sun, "I cannot illuminate the whole world, but this tiny flame will give you light, show the way." Sunset, my child, now I will go peacefully to deep sleep in the dark night. We live with this light; now we have electric light, but it is the same principle. Why do we have children? For what? Why the suffering? Pregnancy is not easy—pain, changing hormones. Only a woman knows. The bravest human is the woman; they endure pain men cannot. Her condition is like the sun setting, wondering what will happen. We have children for our dignity, for our paramparā. This remains. Now everything is mixed up. It is not a question of caste, but we need quality. Those living in forests and mountains have that life. Those in cities... you had here in Europe, like the Romans who built great buildings. Where are the Romans now? There is something in European blood, but it is mixed. For example, take a German Shepherd, a real breed, and another street dog. Both have the ātmā, the soul. Both are dogs; we love both. But the education and ease of understanding of that dog is different from the other. Now everything is mixed. When this happens, you have no more feelings for your children. If you are real—I won't say caste, but if you have pure thoughts—you will take care of your child and wife; you will not get divorced. The Austrians were kings and still have their children. Of course, sometimes they make caste differences. I will not say more. This is what Vivek Purī was telling. Śāntī was talking. Now I sit here, and for the last five years, I am not thinking of spreading more and more, but I tell you the truth. How will this yoga spread in daily life around the world? How will it go further? Do not think of your money. Many teach yoga for money and change the systems. You can only be that one if you are in the paramparā of Alagapurujīs—the teaching of Devapurījī, Mahāprabhujī, Lalanānjī, Śivanānjī, the Holy Gurujīs. It is not a question of the crowd, but of quality. You get your self-liberation, and your successor should be on the path of liberation. You are all successors; you all have this knowledge. But if one ill fish can destroy the pond... It means this: those who have the Kuśaṅga, going to the Kuśaṅga, are lost. We must practice, go to the teaching of Mahāprabhujī, Devapurījī, Gurujī. Therefore, one bhajan said, Mahāprabhujī wrote himself: Satguru Satsaṅgyārī Onu Avere, Onu Avere Nen Bharj Avere, Satguru Satsaṅgyāri Onu Avere. There are so many people sitting around Mahāprabhujī, but they are not that satsaṅgī. I am searching for the one who is a real person on the path of satsaṅg. When I think of that, my tears come, because I love them. They are my satsaṅgīs. Another bhajan from Gurujī, Mahāprabhujī, is very nice. When we sing it, everyone feels it deep in the heart. It says: let me go, Gurudev, with you. Yes, Guruvar—my Lord. Rāpatāṁ ko cāyāntar yāmi me cāyūsajakī kalapānā lojāsabhatajakī kalapānā kevērā me. Pradhākya Vāgandhavet Pradhākya Vāgandhavet Pradhākya Vāgandhavet Pradhākya Vāgandhavet ... Pradhākya Vāgandhavet Taj ke kallapanā, rāj sabar, taj ke kallapanā, ke vaira, ke vaira, vaira, vaira, vaira. We are the kings of the world. In spring, beautiful apples, cherries, and pears blossom. Many beautiful flowers, but not all bear fruit. When the fruit is there, do not hope it will stay; it will fall. It remains until ripe on the tree. Similarly, the path of truth continues. From Satya Yuga, the Gaṅgā flows. Alaknandā flows. The Gangotri River, near Ādiguru Śaṅkarācārya’s place—he came to meet his gurus. The Narmadā River is mighty; it will flow. When we bathe in that river, we cannot bathe twice in the same water. You dip in, come out, that water is gone. You dip again, but it is other water. Day by day goes. From far Himalaya, it merges into the Mahāsāgara, the Indian Ocean. My dear, you are all advanced practitioners. Now it is your duty to see how you can hold it. It can happen: some trees dry, termites attack. A healthy tree, but small creatures inside eat it 24 hours. So inside is the Kuśaṅga. That Kuśaṅga works in you. No matter how strong you are or how much you practice, when that Kuśaṅga is in you, your body and everything will be destroyed. As Mahāprabhujī said in a bhajan: "Phir nai jenamadhare"—Again, when I achieve this, there will be no more birth. How much do we suffer in life? A lot. From birth until now: accidents, falling, heat, cold, pleasant, unpleasant, good friends, no good friends. Being human, we protect ourselves somehow. We have a beautiful hall here, a heater, transparent windows. How happy and pleasant we are, but for how long? We do not know if we will come again as a human. This is the chance. Do not go towards desire for dress, color, perfumes, eating. This is only temporary. One day, everything will become dust. It does not matter what jewelry you have; all will remain here. According to Western, Christian, Yahūdī (Jewish), Muslim, Buddhist, Chinese, Indian calendars—okay. But what we count is when the soul descends here, ascends and descends. We came to earth. Time is given—not by sun and moon, night and day—but counted from when the soul descended and when it will ascend again. We count by this. So for Christmas, according to that calendar, we work. I wish you all the best. If we do not see each other again for Christmas, I wish you a blessed Christmas with parents, grandparents, children. If you have no one, go to friends, ashrams, or church. Those coming with me to India will also have it there. May Alak Purījī send us somewhere together. Śrīdīp Nān Bhagavān, Dev Purīṣa Mahādev, Satguru Svāmī Mādhāvānandjī Bhagavān, Alak Purījī Mahādev. Om Śāntiḥ Śāntiḥ...