TV Channel

There was a vast, ancient forest, filled with trees thousands of years old. To truly understand this is to know everything. Many ṛṣis, sādhus, and saints walk there, barefoot, ceasing their travels at sunset. In that forest lived a solitary yogī, a ṛṣi, who sustained himself on its fruits. The forest teemed with life—tigers, lions, apes, and countless other creatures. The trees themselves are immense, with long lives. We have such a place in our ashram in Australia, a huge forest where the borders of our land are unknown. If you go there, to the Vajidangor and Dungong area, you will see. We visited a valley there, home even to large snakes, three meters long, but they do not bite us. There was an enormous banyan tree we named Devpurījī. Once, fifteen or twenty of us joined hands to encircle its trunk. The next year, officials surveyed the forest and declared that tree to be over 5,000 years old. People have cut down much, but some remain. This reminds me of a story from our ashram in the Czech Republic. There was a guru there—I never saw him, but he was perhaps two or three years old—who would converse with the forest. Some dismissed it as a joke. One day, he addressed a massive, thick-trunked tree: "My dear, I have seen you for so many years. We know each other. But now, your karma is not good. You will die." The tree replied, "Who can kill me? I have stood for thousands of years. No one could touch me. I am the great-grandfather here. A snake's bite does no harm. No animal can kill me. Not even an elephant or a great storm." The ṛṣi said, "I know. But in two years, you will not be here." The tree retorted, "Ṛṣi, you take care of yourself. I am okay." The ṛṣi left. Later, as the ṛṣi walked by again, the tree asked, "Ṛṣi, what are you thinking? I remain as I am. Who can kill me?" He answered, "Your friends. Your friends will kill you." "My friends? Who can kill me?" "Yes, there is one. You have an enemy." The ṛṣi went on his way. What happened? A man arrived with a large wooden stick and an iron tool. Seeing him, the tree thought, 'This little man can kill me? Can any human kill me?' The ṛṣi said, "It is your Jyotiṣ. The Jyotiṣ says on this day, it will be." The tree protested, "For so many ages, no one could kill me." "Where is your enemy?" asked the ṛṣi. "Your enemy is somewhere in fire and iron." Then a man came with an axe. He went directly to that ancient tree and began to cut. It took a long time—days, months—and he felled many trees, including that great old log. The ṛṣi returned. "Hello, old tree. I told you. Who cannot be your enemy? But my enemy was different. One from our own family was attacking. He comes to bring his friend, the enemy." Then the tree said, "Ṛṣi, I was right. One must not have what we call an 'enemy'. Be careful if someone is an enemy. Do not speak anything negative. If you are an enemy to someone, then feed him more chocolates and ice creams until, in that life, he will die. That is that, my dear." When the ṛṣi later asked the old tree, "How are you?" it said, "Gurudeva, I did not think this. I did not think to ask you how I might be protected." There is a lesson in a very small thing. For example, we have injections. It is a very tiny needle, but it can kill us. Therefore, we should always be careful and always be very happy and kind to others. Then what can happen? That will have karma. And his or her karma will kill them, not you. That's it. There is another very nice story, but today, this is all. When I spoke this story, all the trees became so silent. Not a leaf was moving. They are our good, best friends. The birds tell us nice, very nice things. We are like children; we are the humans. But we humans need all this oxygen, all these forests, and everything. So we should love all these forests, and we should be with that. Hama Sabdhaś Prabhu Śaraṇa Parāyaṇam. Hama Sabdhaś Mayom Namaḥ. Śrī Prabhu Dīpa Nārāyaṇam. Om Namaḥ Śrī Prabhu Dīpa Nārāyaṇam. Hama Sabdhaś Prabhu Śaraṇa Parāyaṇam. Śāntiḥ, Śāntiḥ, Śāntiḥ.