Master praises the true householder

Blessed is the householder who performs his duties in the world, at the same time cherishing love for the Lotus Feet of God. He is indeed a hero. He is like a man who carries a heavy load of two maunds on his head and at the same time watches a bridal procession. One cannot lead such a life without great spiritual power. Again, such a man is like the mudfish, which lives in the mud but is not stained by it. Further, such a householder may becompared to a waterfowl. It is constantly diving under water; yet, by fluttering its wings only once, it shakes off all trace of wet.

But a man must practise some spiritual discipline in order to be able to lead a detached life in the world. It is necessary for him to spend some time in solitude-be it a year, six months, three months, or even one month. In that solitude he should fix his mind on God and pray with a longing heart for love of God. He should also say to himself: ‘There is nobody in this world who is my own. Those whom I call my own are here only for 2 days.

God alone is my own. He alone is my all in all. Alas, how shall I realize Him?’

One can live in the world after acquiring love of God. It is like breaking the jack-fruit after rubbing your hands with oil; the sticky juice of the fruit will not smear them. The world is like water and the mind like milk. If you put milk in water it will mix with the water. But first keep the milk in a quiet place and let it turn into curd. Then from the curd extract butter. That butter you may keep in water; it will not mix with the water, but will float on it.

Some members of the Brahmo Samaj said to me:

To live in the world in a detached spirit is very difficult. By merely saying so you cannot be a King Janaka. How much austerity Janaka practised! How long he remained in one posture, with head down and feet up! You don’t have to practise these extreme disciplines. But you need sādhanā , you should live in solitude. You may lead the life of a householder after having attained divine knowledge and love in solitude. Milk turns into curd only when it is not disturbed. The curd does not set if the milk is often moved from place to place or is too much disturbed.'

On account of his detachment from the world Janaka was also known as the ‘Videha’, that is, one free from consciousness of the body. Though living in the world, he moved about as a jivanmukta, a free soul living in a body. But for most people freedom from body-consciousness is something very far off. Intense spiritual discipline is necessary.

“Janaka was a great hero. He fenced with two swords, the one of knowledge and the other of work.

The householder Jnāni and the monk Jnāni “You may ask, ‘Is there any difference between the realizations of two jnanis, one a householder and the other a monk?’ The reply is that the two belong to one class. Both of them are jnanis; they have the same experience. But a householder Jnāni has reason to fear. He cannot altogether get rid of his fear as long as he is to live in the midst of ‘woman and gold’. If you constantly live in a room full of soot, you are sure to soil your body, be it ever so little, no matter how clever you may be.“After extracting the butter, if you keep it in a new pot, then there is no chance of its getting spoiled. But if you keep the butter in a pot where curd has been kept, well, then it is doubtful whether it will keep its flavour.

When they parch rice, a few grains jump out of the frying-pan to the ground. These are white, like mallika flowers, without the slightest stain on them. But the grains that remain in the pan are also good, though not as immaculate as the fresh mallika flower. They are a little stained. In the same way, if a monk who has renounced the world attains divine wisdom, he appears as spotless as the white flower; but one who stays in the frying-pan of the world after attaining Knowledge may get a little blemish.

“Once a bhairavi came to King Janaka’s court. At the sight of the woman, the king bent his head and cast his eyes to the ground. At this the bhairavi said, ‘O Janaka, even now you are afraid of a woman!’ Through Perfect Knowledge a man becomes like a child five years old; he does not know the distinction between a man and a woman.

“Although a Jnāni living in the world may have a little blemish, yet this does not injure him. The moon undoubtedly has dark spots, but these do not obstruct its light.

After realizing God, some souls perform work in order to teach men. Janaka, Nārada, and others like them, belong to this group. But one must possess power in order to be able to teach others. The sages of old were busy attaining knowledge for themselves.

But teachers like Nārada went about doing good to others. They were real heroes.

A worthless stick floating on the water sinks under the weight of a bird; but a heavy and substantial log floating on the water can support a cow, a man, or even an elephant.

A steamboat not only crosses the water itself but carries many human beings with it. Teachers like Nārada may be compared to the heavy log of wood or the steamboat. “One man, after eating a tasty morsel, removes every trace of it by wiping his face carefully with a towel, lest anyone should know. (All laugh.) Another, again, having got a mango, not only enjoys it himself but shares it with others.

Bhakti may be likened to a woman who has access to the inner court of a house. Jnāna can go only as far as the outer rooms.

A man may not know the right path, but if he has bhakti and the desire to know God, then he attains Him through the force of sheer bhakti. Once a sincere devotee set out on a pilgrimage to the temple of Jagannath in Puri. He did not know the way; he went west instead of south. He no doubt strayed from the right path, but he always eagerly asked people the way, and they gave him the right directions, saying, ‘This is not the path; follow that one.’ At last the devotee was able to get to Puri and worship the Deity. So you see, even if you are ignorant, someone will tell you the way if you are earnest.

Yes, such a thing happens, no doubt. But a man reaches the goal in the end.

God has form and, again, He is formless. Once upon a time a sannyāsi entered the temple of Jagannath. As he looked at the holy image he debated within himself whether God had a form or was formless. He passed his staff from left to right to feel whether it touched the image. The staff touched nothing. He understood that there was no image before him; he concluded that God was formless. Next he passed the staff from right to left. It touched the image. The sannyāsi understood that God had form. Thus he realized that God has form and, again, is formless. “But it is extremely difficult to understand this. Naturally the doubt arises in the mind: if God is formless, how then can He have form? Further, if He has a form, why does He have so many forms?”