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Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Devadhī Deva, Deveśvara Mahādeva Kī Jaya, Satguru Svāmī Madhavānandajī Bhagavān Kī Jaya, Alakhpurījī Mahādeva Kī Jaya, Oṁ Śāntiḥ Śāntiḥ... Good evening, all our dear sisters and brothers. Today we honor Śaṅkarācārya, Bhagavān Śrī Śaṅkarācārya, and here all the great saints, all those in āśramas, they worship Bhagavān Śrī Śaṅkarācārya. We know that all of Sanātana Dharma, in its entirety, owes to Śaṅkarācārya the revival of Satya Sanātana. People were straying here and there, but Śaṅkarācārya Jī, from his youngest days, began his mission. After his father passed away, his father had imparted much knowledge: chanting, Sanskrit, and more. His mother, too, was a very great spirit. Śaṅkarācārya’s father passed away. Śaṅkarācārya received knowledge from his father and mother, and he wished to become a sannyāsī. But his mother said, “No, I am all that.” He replied, “Mother, I will be there for you, but I must become one.” He sought to bring back reality, the truth. You can find many books about the Śaṅkarācāryas, his extensive story. He asked his mother, “I want to go and become a sannyāsī, I wish to go.” His mother refused. Then one day, while bathing in the water, something happened. He had gone a little farther, and there appeared a very large creature—what was it? A crocodile. The crocodile was about to kill Śaṅkarācārya, and he was crying out, calling. His mother shouted, “Come quickly, come!” But what could she do? He said, “Mother, if you will allow me to become a sannyāsī, perhaps the crocodile will let me go.” She said, “Yes, yes.” And so he walked through the water on that cloth. Now, these may be stories, or they may be realities; many people have recorded it all. He came back and said to his mother, “Mother, you are my mother, and whenever you need me, I will be with you.” And so Śaṅkarācārya traveled around the whole of India, the whole world. Then the time came when his mother was about to die. In those days, women, ladies, were not supposed to attend funerals because they were emotional. When a husband dies, or children die, or something similar, mothers and sisters are naturally very emotional. But Śaṅkarācārya had promised, “Mother, I will be with you,” and he came to her funeral. When all the others and Śaṅkarācārya arrived, everyone asked, “Why did you come? You are a sannyāsī, you cannot touch the dead body or take part in the funeral rites.” He said, “Yes, I promised my mother in this way.” Then they all left, all the men departed. But he took his mother for the funeral, and then he went on. So, Śaṅkarācārya Jī—his story is vast, and you may have seen a beautiful film about it. Śaṅkarācārya Jī was great. He established four principal centers in the four directions of India, a very great āśrama and then many other āśramas. If you want to know the greatest among the greats who wrote something in this tradition of Śaṅkarācārya, we should read Śaṅkarācārya’s literature. Then you will see how profound and far-reaching it is. Therefore, we all know that there are seven Śaṅkarācāryas, all sannyāsīs who wear the orange robe. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya designated different places: the sādhus were to be here, there, and everywhere. In this way, countless sannyāsīs emerged, and they protected India and Sanātana Dharma for all. In this manner, today is the day of that great, great, great God, Śaṅkarācārya Jī. And you know that he had four disciples beside him, whom you see represented here in images of Śaṅkarācārya. It was great, he is great, and it is great. There were many other ṛṣis of different kinds, but all were ṛṣis. Ṛṣis means very spiritual sages, deeply spiritual. In those times, there were fewer humans; now we are very many people. But back then, they were chosen based on their inner quality. Some liked meditation, doing Pūjā, and so forth; some worked in the gardens; some traveled to different places. Śaṅkarācārya Jī provided different paths for these different temperaments. And they are still alive; even now, they continue. Those ṛṣis, great ṛṣis—it was not easy to become a sannyāsī or a great saint, to truly want to become one with God. There was a ṛṣi named Lomaj, and this Lomaj ṛṣi had many cows, a beautiful forest, and disciples. Perhaps twenty, maybe thirty disciples—I don’t know, I didn’t count—but all would come, and Gurudev would teach them early morning meditations, then prayers, then other practices; as the sun rose, they would wash and go to the cows, to the animals, like that. Guruji was dressed, and he blessed them. Nearby, maybe about twenty kilometers away, there was a small village, and there was a very young boy who wanted to go to that āśrama and become a sannyāsī. The parents said, “No, you are too young for this,” but he insisted, “No, and no.” He was about, let’s say, ten years old. Every day he would say, “I want to go to the āśrama, Gurujī, Avatarpurī.” So one day his parents took him—his name was Upamanyu. His father brought him to the ṛṣi’s āśrama and stood at the door, and the boy said, “Gurudev, Ṛṣimuni, I wish to be yours, I am your disciple.” His father added that from the very time the boy began to speak, he wanted to talk about his gurus. His name was Upamanyu, and thus he had come. Then that Upamanyu’s Gurudev said, “Sit down there.” The father left. Upamanyu stood there for two or three days. But the ṛṣi did not invite him in. After some time, he entered. In this way, Gurujī knew that this was a great soul, already like a god, but he would test him. After much time, he told him, “Take the cows to the grass, graze them, bring them back”—and that was all, without giving him food. After two weeks, the ṛṣi asked, “What are you eating? I did not give you any food. And you go out with the cows and return?” He replied, “Gurudev, I drink the milk of the cows.” The ṛṣi said, “You take the milk of the cows? That milk belongs to the calves. It is their milk, and you are drinking it. Don’t drink that.” “Okay, Gurudev.” After a few days, Gurujī asked, “Upamanyu, what are you eating, since you no longer drink milk?” He said, “Gurudev, when the little calves are drinking, some foam comes from the milk, and I eat that.” Gurujī exclaimed, “What? These cows live for your dedicated service! Don’t take that. Don’t eat that. They will remain there. No, do not use anything from them.” “Okay, Gurudev, I will not.” After a few more days, he went for bhikṣā. He went out for bhikṣā, came back, and ate. Gurujī asked, “What are you eating? You don’t drink milk or those things?” He answered, “Gurudev, I go for bhikṣā and I take something.” The ṛṣi said, “I didn’t tell you to go for bhikṣā, but it’s all right. A sannyāsī should indeed go for bhikṣā, but when you receive alms, you must bring them to the Gurudeva. Then the ṛṣi will give to you or not, as he sees fit. You have been bringing the bhikṣā, but not for yourself.” So he brought the alms to Gurujī. He sat there for half an hour, an hour, two hours. Gurujī said, “Go with the cows, go out.” So again he went, and later the ṛṣi asked, “What are you eating now?” He said, “I went again for bhikṣā.” The ṛṣi replied, “Don’t go to these poor people two times—no. Your task is the cows.” Then what happened? He was eating the leaves of the trees. And again the ṛṣi came and asked, “What do you eat?” He said, “I eat some trees’ leaves.” The ṛṣi said, “These trees, their leaves—don’t eat them. They are so beautiful, and this…” “Gurudev, I will not eat all; just some, otherwise nothing.” One day, what happened? He was eating some kind of leaves or roots, and he became blind. He became blind—Upamanyu (now called Abhimanyu in the narrative)—and it was afternoon, evening already. All the cows started going back to the āśrama, and he was following them, but he fell into a large hole. There was no water inside; it was like a dry well, about twenty meters deep. The cows came home. In the morning, Gurujī asked, “Where is Abhimanyu? Did he not come with the cows?” Some devotees said, “Gurujī, you have tormented him so much. He must have gone home.” He replied, “No, my Abhimanyu will not go. He will not leave. Go and see. Let’s go search for him.” They looked everywhere. The next day, the third day, one day some other people came by and said, “There’s some sound coming: ‘Gurudev, Gurudev…’ There is someone in that pit.” All the bhaktas, disciples, said, “Gurudev, you cannot bring light into this.” He said, “You don’t know.” He is a Gurujī. He said, “He is hungry.” So Prabhupāda (likely a respectful address) said, “Gurudev, Gurudev, Upamanyu.” And Upamanyu replied, “Ke haan, Gurudev, I ate some roots of the tree, something, and my eyes became blind. I fell down inside here. But did all my cows come home?” He said, “Yes.” “You are hungry,” the ṛṣi said. He answered, “Gurudev, as you will.” So Gurudev gave him food. Then Abhimanyu said, “Gurudev, I cannot eat without giving someone to eat. So either you come, Gurudev, or someone else I give to, and then I will eat.” At that moment, Bhagavān, God, said, “Yes, Upamanyu, I am.” “Are you God?” “Yes, I am.” Then his eyes opened. He became very strong, and the Lord said, “Upamanyu, you are that Upamanyu.” It is a great story, a big story. That was that. And how were you? Otherwise we say, “Yes, my Gurujī,” and “Okay, Gurujī, I will be yours.” And after that, it becomes like dust. There was also a very thin stream of water. Very little water came, and at night, midnight, the water was flowing out of their farm, out of the field. The ṛṣi said, “The water is going out. The water is leaving. Go, all disciples, please…” But nobody went. They said, “Gurujī, water will come again tomorrow night; we will not go.” But Abhimanyu was that kind of disciple. He said, “Gurudev, I will go.” The ṛṣi said, “No, no, you are too young, boy.” He insisted, “No, I will go, Gurujī.” And then, when the water was flowing out, he laid himself down there, and he took the earth like this. And that is the story. Holy Gurujī’s book, written there inside, is beautiful. Then, you are the disciple, and there you will be. You are not one day “yes” and then “no,” okay? That’s it. Nowadays, mostly, disciples are not like true disciples. But those who belong to the paramparās, the unbroken lineages, they carry on. And so, the stories—next time, I will tell you how it was with Holy Gurujī. And Holy Gurujī, how he himself walked, he was many, many things. Many Gurujīs did not want to write about it because Holy Gurujī said, “Maybe some bhaktas will be very sad.” But that is how it was. Look at our Gurudev, our Mādhavānandajī Bhagavān. Dekhiye, that is. So when you said “Gurujī, yes,” then it was a full yes. But after that, you go there and then you fall down. What are you doing then? Now you are in the Kali Yuga. And in Kali Yuga, there are so many now, you can’t imagine, like mosquitoes. In your sleeping room, there are so many mosquitoes, and you are inside. How are they sitting there? How do they come in like that? Kripa Gurudev Ki, Gurudev Ke Bhajan. Gurudev ke bhajan bahut, Mahāprabhujī also has very good and nice ones, and also the Gurujī’s disciples’ bhajans. This is that: Gurudev Śaraṇa Tumārī Cintā Merī. Guru De Śaraṇa Tumārī Cintā Merī. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai, Devādhideva Devapurīṣa Mahādeva Kī Jai, Satguru Svāmī Madhavānandajī Bhagavān Kī Jai, Alakhpurījī Mahādeva Kī Jai, Satya Sanātana Dharma Kī Jai. Oṁ Śāntiḥ, Śāntiḥ, Śāntiḥ. Śubharātri Viśvaguru Paramahaṁsa Ī Maheśvarānandajī Gurudeva Kī Jai.