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Good evening and welcome. It is lovely to see you all again. Today is another beautiful day with sunshine. We could use rain, but the sun is also good. This evening, the subject is Trāṭaka, the first yoga kriyā. I spoke about it at the beginning of this sādhanā camp. Now, let us discuss how to practice it in a practical way. We could have practiced here today, but due to the strong wind, we cannot use a candle flame. Therefore, I will explain the technique theoretically. As I said before, Trāṭaka means gazing steadily at one point. The best object is the flame from a lamp of good ghee—from a cow, not from buffaloes, goats, or sheep. Ghee must be prepared properly. When it is made well, the flame is very pure, bright, clear, and smokeless. If ghee is unavailable, you may use good oil, but cold-pressed oil creates smoke, so refined oil is preferable. Some people practice Trāṭaka on a candle flame, which is also acceptable. However, most candles contain chemicals like petroleum. A candle made from pure wax often produces smoke and an impure flame. The second option is to gaze at a small, round black dot on white paper. The third is to gaze at the tip of a beautiful leaf from a tree, or at a picture of your Iṣṭa Devatā, your Gurudev, or any holy incarnation in whom you believe. Some advise practicing Trāṭaka on one’s own face in a mirror, but this practice has been shown to cause psychic problems for many people. Sometimes, through your face and eyesight, your inner qualities emerge. Your face and its light can change, sometimes appearing in frightening ways. If you see something like horns on your face, you will naturally be scared. Therefore, one should never practice Trāṭaka in a mirror or on one’s own face. Some practice Trāṭaka on the rising sun for only half a minute—no longer. Once the sun grows stronger and brighter, do not continue, or you may damage your eyesight. Others may gaze at the full moon. In essence, Trāṭaka is gazing at an object to develop concentration, purify the mind, dispel fear, anxiety, and uncertainty, and clear the Antaḥkaraṇa. It is a very useful Haṭha Yoga technique. By practicing Trāṭaka every morning and evening without interruption for twelve years, one attains a siddhi. This siddhi is neither negative nor positive; it means you develop a very pure, kind, and merciful look in your eyes. Whoever you look upon will become your friend in a positive way; your eyesight will attract others beautifully. This is Śaṅkalpa Trāṭaka. If you miss even one day of practice, the chain is broken. Some people practice for 24 or 50 years without attaining this siddhi. Why? Because they remain negative inside. As Mahāprabhujī said, you can wash a crow with many different soaps, but it will remain black. Similarly, some people always think negatively. It is not necessarily a personal problem, but by constantly creating problems, they obstruct their progress. There are yogīs who, through their gaze, can ignite fire. They focus on dry grass or paper and start a fire. But you need not do this, and please do not try it in Australia, especially with fire, or yoga might be prohibited. Those who practice Trāṭaka with discipline become excellent writers, poets, and speakers. This is called Kaṇṭha Kamala. Kaṇṭha means throat, and Kamala means lotus, referring to the Viśuddhi Chakra. When the divine goddess Sarasvatī takes her seat there, she becomes the deity of knowledge. She is the Iṣṭadevatā for students. When you go to school, you should greet Sarasvatī. Before an examination, pray to her for help. Sarasvatī resides in your Kaṇṭha Kamala and Ājñā Chakra, illuminating your intellect. It is not you who speaks; it is she. To give a speech that makes everyone happy and engaged comes from Sarasvatī. Mahāprabhujī said in a bhajan, "Aisā merā Satguru andar bole"—like that, my Gurudev speaks within me. I am not the speaker; he is. On the day you plan to give a lecture, if you think, "I will do it," write many notes, and carry the ego that "I am talking," you will fail, and people will not be impressed. Instead, think, "Lord, you should speak. Nāhaṁ kartā—I am not the doer. Prabhudeep kartā. Prabhudeep is the doer. Mahāprabhujī kartā. He kevalam—only Mahāprabhujī is doing." It is God who acts; we are merely instruments. Let His will, divine mercy, and love flow through us. Surrender. One who practices Trāṭaka becomes a great speaker, awakening Sarasvatī in the heart’s lotus (hṛdaya kamala). Such a person can write beautiful poetry. Writing bhajans and poetry originates from the Anāhata Chakra, not the intellect. The goddess Sarasvatī moves and acts through you. Recall yesterday’s story about Vidhātā, who writes destiny. He said, "I am an instrument, merely holding the pencil. It moves according to divine will." Similarly, a practitioner of Trāṭaka becomes the best artist. As a painter, you receive beautiful intuition, colors, and inspiration. Trāṭaka illuminates your Chidākāśa, making it colorful. You will see light with closed eyes. This practice removes restless vṛttis, bringing calm and peace. It leads you to meditation. The Śakti of Trāṭaka awakens extraordinary power in your body, activates your chakras, and makes it easy to awaken the Kuṇḍalinī. While practicing Trāṭaka, your Kuṇḍalinī awakens automatically. Practicing Trāṭaka improves eyesight and empowers your words. Your speech gains balance and meaning, free from heaviness. Every word from your lips becomes like pearls or diamonds. Speak in a way that merges everyone in happiness, making even enemies into friends. Before speaking, measure your words in your heart for their weight. Ensure they do not hurt or burden others. Otherwise, remain silent. Ahiṃsā—non-violence—applies to words as well. You can commit violence through speech. A wound from a knife heals, but a wound from harsh words may last a lifetime, embedded deep in the subconscious. Someone may apologize, and you may forgive, but forgetting is difficult. What you cannot forget becomes a lasting problem. There is a beautiful story. A master lived in a forest with many disciples. These disciples would travel the country without shoes, staying in temples, monasteries, or forests, always in pairs. After twelve years of wandering, they would return, and the Master would give them a mantra, deeming them worthy. After another twelve years, he would give them Kriyā. After yet another twelve years, Brahmachārī Dīkṣā. Finally, after another twelve years, Sannyāsa Dīkṣā. Today, some want Sannyāsa Dīkṣā immediately tomorrow—what a joke! It is not like dipping someone in orange dye; the orange color is fire, and if you do not respect it, it will burn you. Two spiritual brothers were traveling. After nearly twelve years, they sat under a large banyan tree, eating fruit by a river they needed to cross. A young woman approached and said, "Brothers, can you help me? My father sent me to another village, but I cannot swim, and there is no bridge. Can you take me across?" They shared fruit with her. One brother, a strong swimmer and kind soul—like our Gopāl Purī—said, "Sit on my back. Hold my shoulders lightly so I can swim." He carried her across, with the other brother swimming beside. On the other side, he set her down. She thanked them and asked if she could do anything in return. The man replied, "We have no wishes." She insisted, so he said, "Then learn to swim, so you won’t need help next time." They parted ways. Eleven years passed. The brothers were walking toward their Gurujī’s forest abode, like all of you traveling from far countries and Australia to be here. What brought you? What feeling did you have when you left home? You bought tickets, traveled by plane, car, and train, endured rain, slept in tents, faced wind, darkness, no electricity, no warm water, no washing machine, no dishwasher, no dining table. Yet you are happier here than in a five-star hotel. It is love, like a magnet, that attracts you. It was the eve of Guru Pūrṇimā, about 25 kilometers from Gurujī. As evening fell, they decided to rest by a beautiful rock near a waterfall. The temperature was pleasant. Both brothers sat in satsaṅg—spiritual people speak of uplifting topics. They were overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Gurujī the next day. The moonlight was gentle, and they could not sleep, discussing whether Gurujī would accept them, ask about their journey, and if they had followed all rules. One brother said, "I hope we followed completely and made no mistakes." The other, the one like Gopāl Purī, said, "Yes." Then the first brother remarked, "But remember, when we left, Gurujī said, ‘Do not touch any woman.’ You did not touch her, but you carried her on your back for half an hour. When Gurujī asks, what will you say?" He replied, "I will tell the truth." The first brother then said, "I have been wondering. You did not touch her, but I was carrying her only from one riverbank to the other for half an hour. You, however, have been carrying her in your memory for eleven years. What will you say? It is easy to forgive but difficult to forget." This lingering memory is a form of blackmail in the mind, a personal or impersonal problem that marks you like a black sheep. It is said that a rope made of straw, when dipped in water, becomes hard. Even dipped a hundred times in the holy Gaṅgā, it remains hard. "Kaptī jan śūdre nahīṁ so santan ke saṅg." Such a person cannot improve even in the company of hundreds of sādhus. "Muj bhinove gaṅg me ray taṅg ki taṅg." Even a straw rope in the Gaṅgā becomes tighter. This is the effect of Kuṣaṅga—bad company. For many lives, this black spot remains. Therefore, Gurujī prays, "Kuṣaṅga se prabhumo ye bachāvo—Lord, protect me from bad company." Through Trāṭaka, your words, heart, and Antaḥkaraṇa become pure. You will fully benefit from Trāṭaka only with a Guru Mantra, a personal mantra. This brings the guru tatva, that light. Gurū Nānak Sāhib said, "May hundreds of moons and thousands of suns rise, but without Gurudev, the heart remains in darkness. Only Gurudev can remove the darkness of the heart." To understand Gurudev, study the Śiva Purāṇa and Śiva Līlā, though their depth is beyond our comprehension. We remain in darkness. As the great Kabīr Dās said, "Pānī mein meṁ piyāsī, moī dekhata āvat haṁsī." It is laughable to see a fish in water that is thirsty. Similarly, you are in the satsaṅg of Gurudev yet suffer with foolish thoughts—like a dead fish, thirsty in water. Practicing Trāṭaka with mantra, as Gurū Nānak Sāhib said, "Sauso chanda ugvi suraj chade hajar." Thousands of moons and suns may rise, but without Gurudev, the heart remains in eternal darkness. Trāṭaka is a Bhakti Yoga Kriyā, very powerful and beneficial. However, practicing without a Guru Mantra or guidance from a qualified teacher can lead to mental problems. Many deny the need for a Guru, claiming they can learn from a book. They may practice, but after a few years, they wander lost, like a deer or kangaroo separated from its group. Therefore, for Trāṭaka practice, you must find a good yoga teacher in your country, village, or city—someone with practical experience in Trāṭaka. Sit in a straight, comfortable posture where you will not need to move for half an hour or forty minutes. Any movement will count against your concentration. Stretch your arm forward with the thumb up; the distance from the flame to your eyes should be the length of your arm. The tip of the flame should be at the level of your Anāhata Chakra, your heart. This sets the height and distance. For those who wear eyeglasses, it is best to practice without them to improve eyesight, though this may vary individually. Some may need to adjust the distance slightly. Once seated, ensure your body is relaxed through preliminary yoga practices. Light the flame, take your mālā, repeat your Guru Mantra with closed eyes for one round (about five to eight minutes). Then, inwardly prepare, open your eyes, and gaze at the flame without looking left or right. Ensure no distracting objects are nearby. Do not blink excessively. After half a minute to a minute, you may feel a burning sensation or tears. Do not wipe them; simply close your eyes gently. With physical eyes looking downward, use your inner vision to see the light or flame behind your closed eyelids. You may see a beautiful blue ring or various lights. Do not try to analyze or grasp them; like catching a fish in water, remain peaceful. Observe for about five minutes. Then, open your eyes and gaze at the flame again. The flame has three parts: a dark radius at the base near the wick, a middle section of pure, bright light, and a slightly smoky top. The secret is to gaze at the tip of the brightest part, the middle section. Gaze for one minute while repeating your mantra, then close your eyes for five minutes, focusing at the center of the eyebrows in the Chidākāśa. A brilliant light may dawn like the morning sun. Do not try to hold it; let it come and go. The best mantra for this is "Oṁ Prabhudeep," which connects you to the cosmic light, forming a link between you and that light. After one mālā, open your eyes, gaze for one minute, then close for another five minutes. This cycle totals about 18 minutes. With the initial sitting and mantra repetition, the practice extends to about 22 minutes. Three rounds are sufficient, with the final meditation lasting at least 20 minutes, totaling about one hour. Do not take this lightly or attempt shortcuts like gazing for one minute and meditating for five. That is not Trāṭaka. Imitating practices from a book or learning from a teacher with only a ten-day certification is like getting a driver’s license after ten days of lessons—such a driver cannot safely take you to Sydney, let alone Dungong. It is a great pity that many advertise yoga retreats and teacher certifications in short periods. They return home calling themselves yoga teachers, display certificates, and teach Trāṭaka, sometimes causing mental distress. How can such a teacher correct a student? If one student out of a hundred has a problem, like a broken arm, newspapers will report that yoga caused it, ignoring the benefits for the other ninety-nine. Therefore, in Yoga in Daily Life, a teacher trains for years. After nine years of practice and teaching, one may say, "I am a little teacher," like earning a nine-year doctoral degree. You must know the entire background—philosophy, psychology, and all aspects of yoga. This is why Yoga in Daily Life is respected worldwide for its seriousness and well-trained teachers. We have thousands of teachers globally. Visit yogaanddailylife.org. The practical training for a yoga teacher, including Trāṭaka, is beautiful and profound. With this, I wish you all the best and a very good night. To those joining via webcast, blessings and a good night or good day.