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Many people are well trained according to the knowledge and teachings of Gurujī and Mahāprabhujī. For instance, there is Natasha—she belongs to the “slow winds.” What are slow winds? They mean relaxed, comfortable, unhurried, and she always likes to go and stay at Nippal Ashram. There are three letters: “Na” means no; “Ta” means, “I will see which day.” And then she says, “Yes, I will go.” Yes, where? Everything is ready. Then where to go? Jāḍān. And when it’s time for Jāḍān, she says, “No, no…” Jadan, Jani Pal—that is Gurujī’s divine place. Anyhow, somehow, we should always be happy. So where to go? If there is space, I would like to go, but I have no place to go. And wherever I go is not my own place. I came into this world. I came in my mother’s body, and then they brought me out in the hospital as a baby; so the hospital was the first place. Then I went home, all right? After a few years, I was no longer there either; I went with someone to some house. Where is our house? Finally we want to leave. Where is my house? Where is my house? You know, there is a song that asks, “Where is my house?” Yes. So then tell, bhakti. That’s it. It is a hymn. I think you also have this—Croatia, Slovenia, Slovakia. G’day, Mojdoma. And what was it? On Christmas Day, Czechs, Slovaks, Russians, and Austrians from Vienna were all together. One day, a soldier was on duty. There was a great deal of snow, and he broke his leg, in minus 23 degrees—maybe even more, no joke. And there was no fire, nothing. He lay, he sat under a single tree. Dark night, no one around. And on that Christmas Day, he thought, “I was always at home. Now, oh my Lord, where is my home?” So we come to this earth, yet we still do not know where our house is. Come home, to the lap of God. Our home is God. Brahmaloka. Some call it heaven. Heaven is where there is happiness, joy, love, understanding—no jealousy, no this, no that. But still, even in heaven, jealousy can arise. Here we are, sitting together. Many will say, “Why does this person always come and set up Swamiji’s chair? Why do they get to distribute the prasāda?” And someone says, “Why does this person always bring water for Swamijī? I also want to give him a nice, cool glass of water.” But by the time she reaches me, what happens? He says, “Thank you, I just drank.” So we are like that. Even among a baby, a mother, and children, enmity can appear. Now hear the story of God. Early morning, God makes His mālā. Even God makes the mālā. Yes. All—Kṛṣṇa, Rāma, Buddha—all of them. Even Jesus had a mālā, and you also have this mālā, what do you call it? The rosary. In Europe it is called Rosencrantz; in Pakistan it is different. So the Master comes. You know that story, but I will tell it quickly because someone listening on the webcast may benefit from hearing it again. After doing His pūjā and all, God walks through the park. It is God’s parallel, you understand. God walks there, and there are different small and big plants, and all of them say, “God, I love you, God, I love you,” and God also says, “Yes, my dear, I love you, and I love you, and… I love you.” The big trees—like that one Narabda spoke of: “I am flying from the mountains in Madhya Pradesh and coming down, and so many Śiva Liṅgas are there.” So it takes her time to come, so God blesses from there already. Nalabda, stay there, flow there. Other plants are near as God touches them. The plants, the trees, they understand God. And they speak to God. We do not understand. The birds too are all very happy. In a corner stands a bamboo, a beautiful bamboo, and God also goes there. The bamboo says, “I love you, God,” and God says, “I love you. My dear bamboo, I love you too.” But the bamboo is not solid; it has holes between its nodes. “Hey Bansu, what are you doing? Don’t drink my blood, please.” So, holes. But you know, God is not only holes. God said, “Yes, all is very good, I love you.” “But Lord, let me stay in Your garden.” And He asked, “Why are you always saying ‘I love you’?” The bamboo replied, “God, I have some vikāra—I am nothing, no knowledge, nothing. I only have a covering, that’s all, and then I have a knot. And do you know what that knot is? It is called jealousy. Jealousy means not wanting to let go, in and out. And, God, if I am more, then I am stressing myself, and a fire comes from me. So, Lord, I have so many faults: emptiness, the knot of jealousy, and even the fire of jealousy.” God said, “Because I know you don’t love Me better.” “Everyone else is solid, and You made me empty.” God said, “Yes. Purposely, I made you hollow.” And the bamboo said, “No matter what I am, God, please let me stay here. I love You. I love You. I love You.” Before, you would just say, “Good morning, good morning, teacher, good morning, sir,” but someone can still have in the heart a lack of certainty. Somehow, in my heart, it is not good. And God said, “No, no… why are you like this?” One day, God came to the whole beautiful park, with His hands behind His back, walking and saying, “Yes, I love you, My plants, trees, grass, mosquitoes.” And when He came near, the whole bamboo trembled. Before God could say anything, the bamboo cried, “I love You, my God. God, what do You have behind Your back, in Your hand? I know God, and I am so afraid.” “No, don’t worry.” “Yes, but I know God.” The day had come that the bamboo had been waiting for. God said, “No, no, no. You know, I will cut off one branch.” “I knew, God. I knew. You will cut me. Maybe You will throw me out of the garden.” God said, “No, no, I love you, and I love you so much.” “And this is Your love? That You take my branch?” “Yes, yes… yes. But first let Me explain to you.” “Look, in this world, human beings are not in harmony. They cannot live in oneness. And for that reason, I have incarnated here in this form. I want to make all happy: birds, cows, buffaloes, elephants, humans, trees—everything.” “And what is that?” “Yes, Bamboo, you will make everyone happy, and you will make Kṛṣṇa happy as well.” “Lord, can You explain to me how I will make them happy?” “Yes, I will make a flute out of you.” Beautiful. And Kṛṣṇa loves this flute. “God, Kṛṣṇa loves me, and He cuts my hands?” God said, “Let Me explain. You know, Bāmbū, Kṛṣṇa does not love anyone as much as He loves you.” “Then tell me how, because He loves you and He kisses you.” “How is that?” “The flute. He will kiss you and pour His energy inside, and this flute will bring out beautiful sound.” “And how will that make them happy?” “All the cows, all the animals, all the birds—all will stop and listen to Kṛṣṇa’s heart through His love. You will make the whole world happy, and that is why I give this role to you, no one else.” “God, why do You delay? Please do it quickly. Will I also be happy?” He said, “You are happy. When you become the hand of God, Kṛṣṇa will hold you, and He will kiss you, and He will give you His prāṇa, and from that prāṇa all creatures will be happy. Others may be here or there, but He will always—Kṛṣṇa will hold you in His hand.” “Yes, God, hurry up! But one thing, God, give me Your promise: do it as quickly as possible. Otherwise, someone else will bring a flute.” He said, “No, no, it is beautiful.” And so it happened, and that is Kṛṣṇa’s flute. In every picture, everywhere, is His flute. But still, God walks every day under the bamboo’s shade. One day the Gaṅgā came, and said, “There is no water. All the glacier water is sinking into the earth. There are only two rocks, and if we can channel the water there, the other side will be watered.” God approached the bamboo, and Bamboo asked, “What will happen now?” “I will cut your trunk.” “One arm was all right, but now You take my whole trunk?” “Yes, because there are so many people, animals, and plants dying without water.” “And what will You do?” “I will place your trunk from one rock to the other, and water will flow through you and immediately become the Gaṅgā, a blessing to all.” “It will be like this?” “Yes.” “God, before You take my trunk, give me a promise: let my generation grow everywhere on earth, and give this bamboo to humans and animals and everyone.” So, whatever God does, do not merely think, “Oh, God…” Understand why God did it; then you will have love. You will have understanding. Otherwise, sometimes you are angry, sometimes you are this or that. So what to do? Where to go? Where is the peaceful place? And so Gurujī said—Mahāprabhujī, Gurujī Mahāprabhujī, Satguru Satsaṅgī Ādi, Satguru Satsaṅgī—this is a holy bhajan of Gurujī and Mahāprabhujī. Wherever Devpurījī was at that time, and there are so many places of Devpurījī’s miracles. Now, many people came to me and invited me. They saw the place of Devpurījī and of Holī Gurujī’s bhaktas. So many, many people were Holī Gurujī’s disciples, because he lived with Mahāprabhujī. Mahāprabhujī took Mahāsamādhi in 1963, and then, in 2003, Holī Gurujī took Mahāsamādhi. Holī Gurujī stayed more on this side due to age; he did not travel very much. And it remained for two generations, and nobody said anything, but again Mahāprabhujī gave blessings, and all awoke in that area. So there are many, many miracles of Devpurījī, but how to write them? That we have to understand. And so I am looking for someone who will—how they are doing, why he was doing, that’s it. And he does not care, because he is an avadhūta. Avadhūta means incarnate. Purījī, Purījī… With the car and the tunnel. Who? Devpurījī made all this. So when the message came that Mahāprabhujī was there, people used to come from far, far distances. They would arrive in the afternoon, and after sunset, until midnight or for a long satsaṅg, and then go back home. You know, darśan—to be with Gurudeva and to have darśan—that is very important. So if Gurudeva comes to a place, we should all come. But those who have no bhakti, who have no thought and no understanding of what Gurudeva is, they try to come but cannot. It is said that if one is on a boat in the ocean, but the captain is not competent, then the boat sinks and all the people go down with it. So lucky are they who hear somewhere, “Gurudev is there, our paramparā is there,” or a very devoted or truly holy saint is present—then we should come to that satsaṅg. It is not that I can give a nice lecture and stories and this and that, no. When a light is lit, all the bugs and moths naturally come to that light. The light does not call, “Come.” No. And one bug does not ask another, “Let’s go there.” It goes automatically. And where there is no light, no bug goes there. So, Jīv Chetan, Sat Gurudev, and that Sat Gurudev carries the paramparā of the Masters. We are very fortunate that our paramparā reaches back to the Satyayuga, long, long ago: Alakhpurījī, Śiva, Mahāśiv Purāṇa—the holy book—and within it there is a story of Alakhpurījī. So we are connected there. But Gurujī used to recite a beautiful verse. He would say, “Makkhī, yes, it will come.” It is said that a bhakta or a paṇḍit was grinding sandalwood paste on a stone, “Kevalam, Kevalam…” You grind it, put it on your forehead, and see how your headache will release. Chandana, Chandana Makhi Parhari. So the paṇḍit or bhakta was making sandalwood paste, and a fly came and sat on it—an ordinary housefly. It had such a nice fragrance, yet this fly grew restless. Nearby, the paṇḍit had a son about two or two and a half years old. In those parts, small children are often kept naked—a tradition to let them know their bodies, and so on. Now the child went to the toilet, and the toilet had a different smell. That fly, sitting on the sandal paste, caught the smell of the child’s excrement. In no time—Siddha Pīṭha Paramparā, Siddha Pīṭha Paramparā—it went to the dirt. Candan makkhī parhāre, durgandha vahā ud jāi. Where there is a terrible smell, the fly is very happy. With its two feeler-legs it probes and then lands on that filth. And then this same fly flies back and sits on your lips. Yes, you just brush it away, but you don’t know where it has been. Candan makkhī parhāre, durgandha vahā ud jāi, aise ajñānī satsaṅg nahīṁ sune. Just like that, a person who does not know what spirituality is, what God is—what happens? He will go the wrong way. Candan makkhī parhāre, durgandha vahā ud jāi. Aise ajñānī satsaṅg nahīṁ sune. So one who is not jñānī cannot go to the satsaṅg. He will go to Naraka, to hell. This is our poem. Therefore, bring your bhaktas together. Do not say, “Why did he come here? Why did she come here? He is always sitting there. Why is she always bringing water? Why is it always Umā Purī?” Dr. Shanti said, “Yes, why not? I am very happy that Umā Purī does it, because I am relaxed.” So, Mīrchāl Saṃnyās…