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Oṁ vidhviṣāvaha sarve bhavantu sukhinaḥ, sarve santu nirāmayāḥ, sarve bhadrāṇi paśyantu, mā kaścid duḥkha bhāgbhavet. Oṁ śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ. Oṁ Praṇām to our Viśva Gurujī. Oṁ Namo Nārāyaṇa to all of our dear sannyāsīs here. And Harī Oṁ Praṇām to all of you. Very happy to see you. Very happy to be again in Střílky after some time. We are always a little bit jealous when we watch the webcast from New Zealand—but in a good way. So, I can relate a little to this moment of waiting that we are now experiencing. There is a story about waiting. There was a lady who was to be married. However, at the marriage dinner, meat was served. She did not like this, so she left and ran away. She went into a forest where there were many small āśrams and hermitages with sādhus and ṛṣis living there. But no one wanted her to stay. Finally, she came to one small āśram, and the Gurujī there agreed, "You can stay here." He said, "Don’t worry, everything will be okay. Just settle here. No one will find you." He gave her a small hut, and she was very happy, performing her sādhanā and seva to Gurujī. As time passed, he grew old. One day, feeling his departure from the body was near, he told her, "One day, Rāma himself will come to you, here to this place." Then he died. She held great trust and confidence in the words of her Master. Every day, she was ready to welcome Śrī Rām. She would clean the hut thoroughly—just as we clean and prepare when Viśvagurujī comes to any āśram in the world. There is a lot of joy in it, sometimes a little stress, but it is a very joyful stress. She would spread flowers every day on the path leading to the hut. She would also collect fruits from the forest, taste them, and set aside only the sweetest ones for Rāma when he would come. She lived in a spirit of constant expectation. On days he did not come, she was not upset. She would say, "Lord, this is your wish, and I accept it. I know you will come on the right day." The next day, she would begin the same process again. For forty years, she lived like this. Can you imagine? Every day for forty years, cleaning, preparing, and her mood never declined. That, too, is sādhanā. Then, one day after forty years, Śrī Rāma did come—Sītā, Lakṣmaṇa, and Rāma. She was overjoyed. To offer the fruits to Śrī Rām, she would take a little bite to ensure they were sweet enough. Lakṣmaṇa did not like this, but Śrī Rāma pacified him, saying he felt immense love in this act. So, while we are waiting for Viśva Gurujī, we have our daily works and sādhanās. I feel there is a meaning behind all of this. Perhaps we really need to cleanse something within us more deeply and awaken more joy and enthusiasm. I opened a page to a bhajan: "Come quickly to your bhaktas, O great hero. Your power is unlimited. You are immortal, everlasting, and unbreakable. Whenever your bhaktas have problems, finally you reveal yourself to them. My heart is trembling because of the problems of the world. O giver of happiness, please give me some stability, some reassurance. Whom else than you should I call? Who would free me from the problems? Please come and make my life successful. Cut these chains of suffering. You are the Lord of all fourteen worlds, and the great giver. Please grant me immortality. Please grant me the highest bliss, the paramānanda. And feed me with the nectar of immortality. O merciful Mahāprabhujī, you are as deep as the endless ocean. You are the master of all masters. Please remove all obstacles in front of Madhavānandjī. I am the beggar at your door." Śrīdīp Narambāghvān Kī Je! Bhag Tarī Vare Bega, Bhag Tarī Vare Bega... Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai! Satguru Svāmī Madhavānandjī Bhagavān Kī Jai! Viśva Guru Paramahaṁsa Śrī Svāmī Māheśvarānandjī Gurudeva Kī Jai! Here, Mīrābāī says, "Come, come Gurudev, come to my hut." This brought something to mind about huts, and since we have time, I can tell you a little story. Before the bhajan in New Zealand, we had a small project meant to be a retreat place in the middle of beautiful nature. The idea was a big hall in the center with small huts around it for practicing satsaṅg. One day, I went there with Viśva Gurujī. He said, "Well, it would be better if you sell this and pay off your loan for the āśram." But he added, "There are three cabins there. Keep them. Bring them to the āśram we have in Rāmāṭī, near Wellington." Now, this land is very steep. In New Zealand, it is common to lift wooden buildings onto a truck and transport them. We thought it would be no problem. We asked a company, thinking it an easy task. But they discovered no machinery could get there because it was too steep and dangerous—they would just slide down. Honestly, this was a kind of relief to me; we wouldn't have to do it and could just sell the land. I called Svāmījī and explained all the difficulties and why it was impossible. You know, this is not a very good idea to tell Svāmījī. He said, "No problem. Just dismantle the buildings piece by piece, right where each wood belongs, then bring it to Rāmāṭī and build it back together." Okay. So we went there in the middle of winter. A few of us, between teaching classes and other work, managed to dismantle two cabins and bring them to our āśram. It took about three months of work. Then we laid foundations and started to rebuild. It was hard work—I won't bore you with too many details. We finished, and then it was time. Svāmījī comes to us once a year. He arrived and, originally, would just visit our āśram, have tea, and go back to Wellington. We invited him to this hut. He liked it very much. At that time, it was a hut 2.5 meters by 2.5 meters—very small. Just as Mīrābāī says, "My house is not any palace or a castle. It’s just a simple hut from wood and mud. But nevertheless, Gurudev, please come." I remember till today how he sat there. There was no space, only a bed and a little sitting area, yet Svāmījī managed to fit twelve people inside. Then there was a little quiet moment, and Svāmījī said, "You can make it a little bigger." (You know, Vasanjī knows what I’m talking about.) The front wall would go to the end of the deck outside, and then we would make new walls. "Of course, yes." So we made it bigger. A year later, Viśvagurujī came again. He was very happy. One thing I forgot to mention: the first year he arrived at this cabin, as I said, he was only planning to take tea and leave. But then it happened that he stayed overnight. There was so much joy—I don't know if it was the reason, but he could not get the visa to Australia. (Now you know why, because Agnidev is here from Australia.) So Viśvagurujī stayed two nights, three nights, four, five, six, seven, eight nights with us. Every day we thought, "Today he will get the visa"—not us in Rāmāṭī, but the Australians. So it was difficult to judge what to wish for. On one side, we were happy he was there. On the other side, we were a little unhappy for the Australians waiting. It’s not easy now, either—what should we wish for? If you can wish for someone else, that is really God speaking through you. Anyway, this little hut got a second extension ultimately, and it is beautiful. I learned some carpentry skills and continued building. It was also a wonderful practice, a sādhanā, because it was something I never thought I would do. I had no education in it, other than watching the builder and using YouTube and Google. Have you noticed this in your life—that you face things you don’t really know how to do? Life brings us into situations where we simply have to let go of what we know and plunge into something we may not even like much, or have no idea about. Sometimes, in those situations, it seems life is just waiting for this moment. It patiently watches until we exhaust our rational mind and finally remember to give up, to surrender, to let go of the Ahaṁkāra. When we engage in such projects, you feel the prāṇa, this energy that flows through your body. Even though it is hard, we like that, no? It is a wonderful feeling. So we move slowly through such moments in our lives, forward, day by day. Gradually, we move forward. And Viśva Gurujī so nicely arranges for us to have more of these experiences to grow. That is really why we came to this world. "So my house is not any palace, it’s not a castle, but still, Gurudev, please come. There is no place to sit, even. No pillows, only a straw mat." It is just exactly like that. "I don’t even have any sweets in the house—only a handful of potatoes. But still, Gurudev, please come." Now, one śloka that only a bhakta can allow themselves to say: "If you decide to come, then come this morning. And don’t tell me anymore that you will come tomorrow." This needs the heart of a child to say these words—pure, pure love. Mīrābāī says, "O Lord, hold me at your lotus feet. Give me your darśan, come to my heart, to my house. Please give me your darśan and come." Thank you. Avalokiteśvara, Mari Avalokiteśvara... Mari Avalokiteśvara, Mari Avalokiteśvara. Can you sing one bhajan? I am very happy to see you. You know this bhajan from Lālā Nānjī that you sing so nicely? You know which I mean? This kind of new one? "Mana..." something "mana"? I can translate a little of what I know. Svāmī Mahāmaṇḍaleśwar Gyāneśwar Purī sent it to me. "Ratha" means repeat. So, "O my mind (mana), repeat the name of Gurudeva, Nāma. Because this opportunity will not come again and again. The Vedas and all the saints are saying this. Satguru will remove all your doubts, and your mind and body will be happy. At his lotus feet are 68 pilgrimage places. By his perfected guruhood, you will be delivered across the ocean of Māyā with the help of Satsaṅg. With the satsaṅg, he will bring you across. You will receive the Guru Kṛpā, the mercy of Gurudev. When you meet him, when you get his darśan, you will realize the ātmā. He is beyond the four states—Turīya, Tita Palaka Viśvakārī—he is the protector of the whole universe. Śrī Lālā Nānjī sings every day about the glory of Mahāprabhujī." Śrī Dīpnāreya Bhagavān Kī Jai! Śrī Svāmī Lālā Nānjī Mahārāja Kī Jai! Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai! Śrī Svāmīlāl Nānjī Mahārāja Kī Jai! Before prayer, we can have a little meditation. Some of you were in VEP, but most were not, so I can say again the same thing—something about the rāga that will be part of the meditation. Some of these melodies from Indian classical music are called rāgas. They have a certain story, meaning, or purpose behind them. This rāga is apparently meant to awaken or strengthen within us a longing. Usually, in our yogic endeavors, longing or desire is not considered a good thing. But the longing nourished by this kind of music is not a material longing; it is the longing for God, for awakening, for purifying the heart, and so on. So, make yourselves comfortable for a moment. Yes, we can. If it’s easy to switch off the lights, we’ll be... Thank you. Come into your favorite meditation posture. Close your eyes. Together we will chant Oṁ three times. Whilst chanting the mantra, feel the resonance of the Oṁ in your whole body. Deep inhalation. [Oṁ...] Relax your whole body. Feel your body from the toes to the top of the head. Relax your face muscles. Relax your shoulders. Relax the abdominal muscles. Relax your legs. Withdraw your awareness away from the external world and come into your inner world. Feel the gentle movement of the breath. With the observation of your breath, relax inwardly. Leave behind the whole day of different experiences. Let go of any expectations or visions for the future. Allow these few minutes to be here, relaxing, one with yourself. Feel your presence, your being here again in this hall. All of us together, surrounded by our friends. As we chant Oṁ three times, let us unite our hearts together. Deep inhalation. [Oṁ...] Share this prāṇa with your face. Your eyes. And open your eyes.