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Some take an extreme view, claiming that Bhakti Yoga, Rāja Yoga, and prayers are unnecessary—that only meditation on "So'ham" (I am That) is required. However, this realization of "Who am I? I am that" comes after salvation, liberation, or mokṣa. No one can attain complete realization through intellect alone. Mahāprabhujī taught that complete realization flows through love, and that love is bhakti. The entire universe is permeated with love and bhakti. In one bhajan, Mahāprabhujī expressed, "How dear are the words to me, only I know." No one else can truly understand. When your beloved tells you, "I love you," only you know its full meaning. Others may grasp it intellectually, but not experientially. Similarly, that love must grow and emerge from the mother's body and from her mouth—what we call the mother tongue. You must be born and raised in that culture to comprehend it. It is impossible to understand otherwise. For instance, an Indian cannot fathom entering a temple with shoes on. Yet in a church, due to climate and cold, one wears shoes. Even if it is cold, you cannot enter a temple with shoes. Neither side fully understands the other's perspective. One might protest, "This is inhuman, terrible; I am suffering from the cold and should not have to remove my shoes." A German might exclaim, "Unvorstellbar, unmenschlich!" because they do not understand the prohibition. There are countless such nuances to comprehend. Studying Indology, Germanology, Czechology, or any other "-ology" provides only intellectual understanding. One then tends to seek points for critique. To know the taste of a particular apple, you must eat it. We all know the taste of butter, but you cannot explain it. Certain things defy explanation; they do not translate into mere feelings. No matter how much fat, oil, or butter you consume, your tongue will never become fat. The same principle applies to understanding Guru Bhakti, the Guru Bhakta, Guru Seva, and the Śāstras. Only those who understand can truly dedicate and surrender. In Sanātana Dharma, it is said this understanding must be in your blood. Then you can comprehend. Always strive to understand from the heart. With intellect, you can construct thousands of arguments. You may ask one question and receive an answer, but that single question will awaken hundreds more in your mind. Why does an elephant have such a long trunk? If we imagine an elephant without a trunk, you would say, "This is not an elephant." An elephant must have a long trunk. If it has one, you are not satisfied; if it lacks one, you are also dissatisfied. This is the nature of intellect. When discourse remains on the intellectual level, it is the blind leading the blind. As the saying goes, among the blind, the one-eyed is king. Therefore, all arguments must eventually cease. As long as a snake has curves, it is still alive. Similarly, as long as you harbor arguments and doubts, ignorance persists. Jñāna Yoga is quite different from what some people imagine. Many say, "I don't like Bhakti Yoga; this is not the way for us. I want mokṣa; I want to become one with Brahman." But have you seen Brahman? Without seeing Him, how can you wish to become one with Him? You cannot even become one with your wife—there are many problems at home. If you cannot be one with your mother, father, wife, or husband, whom you can see, feel, and speak to, how will you become one with Brahman, whom you have never seen? Thus, in one bhajan it is said, "Gurudeva, what should I do with that face of God, which I have never seen?" Therefore, we must awaken bhakti itself. Without it, there is no way. Intellect is useful for daily life—to exist, to work for our bread, to drive carefully on an icy road. That alertness is good. But to read a book, to read words and know a language, does not mean you know the reality. You may know a person, yet not know their true essence. The great scientist Einstein said, "Tons of theory is nothing compared with a gram of practice." Observe an artist in the circus; their act looks effortless. They hold a rope, swing, release it, and another catches them by the leg. It looks easy and clear—you must let go of the rope and grasp the hands. Now try it yourself: jump from one tree to another. You cannot. Ask the artist how many years and how many hours per day they practiced. There, theory cannot help; only practice can. In this sense, what some call Jñāna Yoga is merely theory. True Jñāna Yoga rests on four principles: Vairāgya (dispassion), Viveka (discrimination), Ṣaṭsampatti (the six treasures), and Mumukṣutva (longing for liberation). All four of these points are imbued with Bhakti Yoga and cannot be pursued without a Master. Therefore, engage in practices you feel drawn to, but ensure they are practical. There are four yugas: Satya-yuga, Tretā-yuga, Dvāpara-yuga, and Kali-yuga. We are now in Kali-yuga, and in this age, there is only one effective path: bhakti.