Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna Lecture 162 on 21-April-2026
Full Transcript (Not Corrected)
Opening Invocation
OM JANANIM SHARADAM DEVIM RAMAKRISHNAM JAGADGURUM PAHADAPADMETAYOH SRIDHVA PRANAMAMI MUHURMUHU
ओम् जननीम् शर्दाम् देवेम् रामक्रिष्णम् जगत् गुरुम् पादपत्मे तयोस्रित्वा प्रणमामि मुहुरु मुहु
The Nature of Samādhi
We are studying the Gospel of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa. What happens to a person after he attains Samādhi? We have to clearly understand that Samādhi is not a peculiar state where a man becomes, or seems like, unconscious. In fact, Samādhi means a person becomes all-consciousness.
This means not only does he not think he is the body — he thinks the body is consciousness, the mind is consciousness, everything in this world is consciousness, all is consciousness, everything is consciousness. Consciousness is another name for God, Parameśvara, Parabrahman. A person realises that what exists is only Brahman, God, and nothing else.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa wants to describe what happens to that person — what such a person will be seeing and looking upon. Remember, when a person is in Samādhi, there is no question of how that person sees or what he experiences. All these terms apply only when we are having a body and a mind.
Samādhi as the Dawn of Knowledge
A few such people, after attaining Samādhi — Samādhi meaning the knowledge that "I am God, everything is God, nothing is there which is not God" — that is called Samādhi. Once a person understands that, it is called the dawn of knowledge, and then there is no question of forgetting that he is not God.
What does this mean? It means that even by mistake, he does not think, "I am the body, I am the mind." To think "I am the body and mind" is to know that I am not the Ātman, and that I did not have any Samādhi. This is what Ramaṇa Maharṣi used to call Sahaja Samādhi.
Sahaja means naturally. Just as we very naturally think we are the body and mind, it never occurs to such a person that he is anything else excepting Brahman, excepting God.
The Dropping Away of All Actions
So after a man has attained Samādhi, all his actions drop away. All devotional activities such as worship, japa, and the like — as well as all worldly duties — cease to exist for such a person.
Why does this happen? Because a marvellous truth of Vedānta is being expressed by Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa here. What he says is that every activity is because of a desire. If there is no desire, there is no activity. If there is no activity, then there would be no need for instruments like the body and mind.
The Analogy of Deep Sleep (Suṣupti)
To understand that state, we have to recollect our experience in Suṣupti, deep sleep. What is deep sleep? It is the temporary cessation of all desires. What happens? We are so happy.
Why do I not have desires in the deep sleep state? Because I am happy — completely happy. Though temporarily, until I wake up, there is not one single desire which I need to fulfil.
Desire means I am not happy. Desire means I want to be happy. Desire means I have to get happiness from somewhere else. Desire means I require some instruments like the body and like the mind.
Will the body and mind alone give happiness? No. Even if there is body and mind, there must be many, many objects outside the body — which is called the world. If I have a desire for eating a sweet, I require sweets. I require a food called sweet. Then I have to try to find out where it is available — some sweetmeat shop, or it may be in the fridge, or I may order through Amazon, whatever it is. So there must be a world, there must be body and mind, and there is a way to connect myself with the world — which is through the instrumentality of our five sense organs of knowledge (jñānendriya) and five sense organs of action (karmendriya).
But what happens in the deep sleep state? There is a complete absence of desires. And when does that state appear? Only when I am very happy. Simply saying, "I am not happy, but I don't have any desire" — both things cannot go together. Only when I am completely happy will there be no desires.
So when I am happy, there are no desires. Then there is no need for this world and the instruments to contact the world, called the body and the mind. And both this absence of desire and the experience of happiness take place simultaneously. That is why, so long as the deep sleep state continues, I experience unbroken bliss, which is otherwise called Śānti.
Permanent vs. Temporary Happiness
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us that the deep sleep state is only temporary, because as soon as we wake up — and waking up means the waking up of desires — immediately body, mind, and the world, and unhappiness, everything springs up simultaneously, not one after the other.
Now Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is explaining that permanently, a person has attained to the fullness of happiness, and therefore this person does not have any desires. Therefore, there is no activity needed. Therefore, body and mind are not needed.
This is the knowledge: "I am happy." That is the condition only of a Jīvanmukta. Remember, after a man has attained Samādhi and he comes down, as it were, by God's will into this body-mind complex, all his actions drop away. All devotional activities — any activity, good, bad, devotional activities, spiritual activities — what is the difference? When I want some temporary effect, they are called worldly activities. When I want a permanent result, that is called spiritual activity.
So, be they devotional activities like worship, japa and the like, as well as all worldly duties — these cease to exist for such a person. As we discussed, why? Because he is ever happy. When a person says, "I am Brahman, I am Ānanda Svarūpaḥ, Ānandoham" — and then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues.
The Psychology of Spiritual Progress
At the beginning — meaning before one progresses into spiritual life, or before any desire is fulfilled — desire can be divided into worldly desire and desire for God. So whatever it be, before I fulfil my desire, before I attain God, there would be a lot of hullabaloo about work. This is what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us — the psychology of life.
At the beginning, there is much ado about work. As a man makes progress towards God, the outer display of his work becomes less and less, so much so that he cannot even sing the name and glories of God.
As we mentioned earlier, the Bhagavad Gītā is the very essence of all the Upaniṣads. And the Gospel of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is the very essence of the Bhagavad Gītā. In fact, it is the Bhagavad Gītā in simple words.
So the Bhagavad Gītā says: when a person is trying to attain — to become a real yogī, a master yogī — that means a person before knowing who he is, everything is Karma. Bhakti is Karma. Yoga is Karma. Jñānam is Karma. Karma Yoga. Everything is Karma only.
Even that Jñānam — that "I am working without any expectation of the result because I don't need any results" — that is also Karma only. That is only Citta Vṛtti only. But that Citta Vṛtti must become firm — "I am Ānanda Svarūpa." So that Citta Vṛtti which says "I am Ānandam, I don't require Ānandam" — he becomes free. But when such a yogī attains to that ultimate state of knowledge, then there is no need for him even to do any action.
The Illustration of Śivānāth
Now Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa always illustrates. When this talk was going on, there was a devotee, a Brāhmo devotee called Śivānāth. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues, looking at him:
"As long as you were not here at the meeting, people talked a great deal about you and discussed your virtues. But no sooner did you arrive here than all that stopped. Now the very sight of you makes everyone happy. People now simply say, 'Here is Śivānāth Bābu.' All other talk about you has stopped."
The Illustration of the Drama
Rāmakṛṣṇa also gave many other illustrations. One of them was this: a drama was about to start, and people were starting to talk about this and that. Then suddenly, on the stage, there is a curtain, and suddenly they hear — first, Nārada starts singing, "Oh Hari, Oh Nārāyaṇa" — and people stop talking with each other, because they know this is the prelude to the lifting of the curtain. Then the drama starts, and then people are absorbed only in the drama.
What a beautiful illustration. When a person has that intense vyākulatā — yearning for God-realisation — Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa used to say intense yearning is like the dawn before the rise of the sun. The whole eastern sky becomes absolutely reddish. The whole horizon becomes a beautiful reddish colour. The birds start singing, and there is a peculiar joy that springs up from the mind even beholding that sight. Those who are living in cities obscured by tall rising buildings can never understand what we are talking about. But if you go to any seashore and look at either sunrise or sunset, you understand what I am talking about.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa at Vṛndāvana
Early morning before the sunrise, there is light and pleasant light, and the atmosphere will be more or less cool. At that time people start going to various works and duties — farmers especially in the villages — and cows etc. are being taken to the fields. There is a peculiar upliftment of the mind even to look at it. But of course, if we do not have an aesthetic sense, then we cannot enjoy it.
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa once went to Vṛndāvana, and then at the time of dusk, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was there and he fell into Samādhi, crying, "Oh Kṛṣṇa!" The cowherd boys were coming back with their cows — even today in many villages it is a very common sight. India fortunately does not have these cultivated farms, whether it is a dairy farm or chicken farm, etc. Even today many people take cows and goats for grazing.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa saw at that time a much greater phenomenon in a very common phenomenon. He said, "Oh Kṛṣṇa! Everything is exactly as it is — only you are not there." Thinking thus, he fell into Samādhi. So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was highly prone to aesthetic experiences. Even such a state of mind gives such a tremendous joy. That is why it is the third highest state — sensual pleasures, then intellectual happiness, then aesthetic happiness.
The Jīvanmukta and the Purpose of Retaining the Body
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us that there is no such need for this person coming after Samādhi. Everything becomes Ānandamaya. There is no place for duḥkha.
What about supposing such a person — now a Jīvanmukta — is living? And definitely there are Jīvanmuktas, because the earth is never devoid of Jīvanmuktas. Especially in Vārāṇasī, there is a faith that at least two or three minimum Jīvanmuktas will be there to maintain this holy atmosphere.
At one time, Swami Turyānanda and Swami Adbhutānanda — Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's own disciples — both were Jīvanmuktas, and they were living in Kāśī. Why only these two people have come? Many other disciples should have come. Swami Śivānanda Mahārāj used to come. He fell into Samādhi many times. He had visions of Śiva. Because the mission of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa had to be complete, by the grace or will of Divine Mother, two of his direct disciples lived here and passed away here in this very āśrama. And we know by faith both of them are Jīvanmuktas.
What is the purpose? Because some great people like these Jīvanmuktas should be there to maintain the sanctity of the scriptures, the sanctity of sādhanā, the sanctity of śraddhā, and to preserve the sacredness of places where God is specially manifest. That is the understanding here.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa and the Offering of Tarpaṇa
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us: "After my mother passed away, I wanted to perform tarpaṇa." Tarpaṇa means offering to the mother or father or grandmother or grandfather after they pass away. So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa wanted to do it. At that time he was in the mood of a child — that is to say, "I am a devotee, You are my mother." The other mood is "I am the Divine Mother." So he used to be in these two states.
They are called — one is called nitya, another is called līlā. In this state of līlā, "I am a child, I am a devotee, I have a mother, and I play with my mother." This is called līlā.
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was telling: "I went to the Gaṅgā to perform tarpaṇa, but as I took water into the palm of my hand, it trickled down through my fingers." That means he was thinking, "Oh, I could not offer water to my own mother." Such was the great devotion of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa to his mother.
Why should a Jīvanmukta have so much devotion? Because, to set an example — mātṛ devo bhava, pitṛ devo bhava — so how much veneration and devotion one should have, whether a person is realised or not. They will never lose their devotion to their own earthly parents. If that is their case, what have we to say about our own condition?
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, as a devotee, as if he were not a realised soul, was weeping, and he said to Halādhārī his cousin, "What is this?" Then Halādhārī replied, "It is called galitahasta in the holy books."
Sometimes Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa mistakes the names of people also — in the Gospel itself we get this. This example was given several times in the Gospel of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa. In another place he says, "I went to the khazāñcī — the treasurer — I asked him." The answer is of course the same: that after realisation, all the activities of a person drop away.
But do you think that if Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa did not offer this tarpaṇa to his mother, the parents of the Avatāra would not become free? They become liberated by the grace of the Avatāra. Even ordinary people become liberated — what to speak of the parents themselves! But Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa wants to show an ideal, and we the devotees have to follow him.
What about the monks — sannyāsīs and sannyāsinīs? Well, we are not free, and we have to pray for our mother, father, and all those near and dear who have passed away or who may be living also, and pray to Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa: "May they also come to your lotus feet."
The Illustration of the Kīrtana
Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa gives a further illustration. Suppose a kīrtana is going on — and this actually happened: whenever Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa or Caitanya Mahāprabhu conducted these kīrtanas, it used to produce this marvellous effect.
In the kīrtana, the devotee first sings — "That my Nitāi" (meaning the companion of Caitanya Mahāprabhu) — "like a mad elephant he dances like that." As the devotional mood deepens, he simply says next, "All he can sing is..." and at last he simply goes into Samādhi. The man who has been singing all the while then becomes speechless. From speech to speechlessness — slowly, the speech becomes less and less, until it merges in the thought.
The Illustration of the Feast
Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa gives a beautiful illustration. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is often compared to Kālidāsa. Kālidāsa was famous for his similes, and Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa used to give — I think — more similes than even Kālidāsa.
Here is the illustration: Again, at a feast given to the Brāhmaṇas, one at first hears much noise of talking. When the guests sit on the floor with leaf plates in front of them, much of the noise ceases — where is their attention? On the food. Then one hears only the cry, "Bring some luci!" At the partaking of the luci and other dishes, three-quarters of the noise subsides. When the curd — the last course — appears, one hears only the sound "cup cup," as the guests eat the curd with their fingers. Then there is practically no noise. Afterwards, all retire to sleep, and absolute silence reigns.
How beautifully Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is illustrating! He must have participated in many of these feasts, and his keen power of observation had come to his aid.
Then what does he say? When the last course is over — as the guests eat the curd with their fingers — that means if you take a spoon and then go on putting it slowly in the mouth, that "cup cup" doesn't come. Only when you take your hand and scoop up the sweet curds will it be there. Afterwards, all retire to sleep, and absolute silence reigns.
Therefore, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: "At the beginning of religious life, a man makes much ado about work. But as his mind dives deeper into God, he becomes less active. Last of all comes the renunciation of work, followed by Samādhi."
What Happens to the Body After Samādhi?
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: generally, the body does not remain alive after the attainment of Samādhi, and that is more or less true — because this is called Sadyo Mukti, Videha Mukti. As soon as the body falls, there is liberation. But as soon as a person attains knowledge even while living, it is called Sadyo Mukti.
So the purpose of life is to know who one is. And once a person comes to know of it, there is no need to keep this body any longer. Its ultimate purpose is attained. There is no need. Let it be there — let it not be there. So generally the body does not remain alive.
But there are exceptions. The only exceptions are such sages as Nārada, who keep their bodies alive in order to bring spiritual light to others. It is also true of divine incarnations (Avatāras) like Caitanya.
Sages and Incarnations Who Retain the Body
So we have to note down two points here. First: sages like Nārada — when they attain the Samādhi state, actually there will be no special type of individual ego. Just as a river merges into the ocean and has to give up its name, form, special taste, colour, etc., like that, the ego completely vanishes when it merges in the ocean of Brahman. But then — who keeps? It is Brahman alone, for the good of the world. It keeps some people's bodies because they are meant to be teachers. They are meant to be exemplars — that Samādhi is possible, and what happens when Samādhi is attained. It is very important for all of us to understand this.
Suppose there is not one single God-realised soul — then, first of all, who is to interpret the scriptures in the right way? Secondly, it is not only interpretation of the scriptures — these great souls, by their very life, show that we do not require anything from outside to make ourselves happy. Because we think: if I can't see, then I can't enjoy any form; if I can't taste — how much people suffer if the sense of taste and the sense of smell, especially the sense of smell, are absent. Because 90% of the taste of food is in the fragrance — whether it is of spices or of vegetables. Every vegetable has its own special flavour. If the flavour is not there, everything is flat.
And here you have to take note: suppose there is a sweet and there is no flavour — then the quality of its enjoyment will be much less. Even rice pudding — add a little bit of cardamom, and it enhances the taste by its flavour. So we are simultaneously enjoying both flavour as well as taste. So flavour is even more important than any taste. In fact, even food with lesser appeal tastes better if it is flavoured with certain spices — a very interesting phenomenon.
So who keeps the egotism, the body and mind, alive? It is only God who keeps some people — like Nārada — endowed with special bodies and special minds. Remember: to keep the knowledge of Brahman — just like a very delicate electronic instrument, which requires to be kept in a special condition — so also these great people's bodies are made up of special material. Outside, they may look like ordinary bodies.
Keśab Candra Sen understood this truth. That is why he says: "Rāmakṛṣṇa and Jesus Christ, Buddha — these so-called great incarnations of God — have a very special body, and their bodies have to be protected with the greatest care, like delicate things kept in a closed almirāh free from dust." That is why Viśuddha Sattva — so much of Sattva Guṇa — should be there.
So sages like Nārada — they don't keep it. It is God who keeps. Or we can also interpret: there is no Nārada here. Once that sādhaka who was called Nārada at last merges in Brahman, then Nārada becomes Brahman, and that Brahman — "Nārada-Brahman" — keeps certain bodies alive and functions through them in order to bring spiritual light to others.
More than spiritual light to others, they serve as exemplars — how a person can be so good, so pure, so unselfish, so loving, and with so much of joy. Unless we glimpse such people, or at least descriptions of such people, then the motivation to become spiritual does not actually arise.
Avatāras as Teachers for Humanity
Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says it is also true of divine incarnations like Caitanya. What we need to add is: not only Caitanya, but all the incarnations that were known, and many incarnations who were unknown to us also — incarnations that history has outlined, like Buddha, Jesus Christ, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, etc., and the Daśa Avatāras, the famous twenty-four Avatāras in the Bhāgavatam — and the Bhāgavatam tells us innumerable Avatāras are there.
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us that it is true of incarnations also — their bodies are meant only as teachers, to bring spiritual light for people like us — not like us meaning not to everybody, but those who have gone through the experiences of the world for many, many lives, who are awakened, and who are looking for such teachings. A teaching will be effective only to a person who is eager to learn it and is equipped with certain qualifications. We have to understand that.
The Illustration of the Well and the Spade
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is again illustrating: "After a well is dug, one generally throws away the spade and the basket. But some keep them in order to help their neighbours."
The great souls who retain their bodies after Samādhi feel compassion for the suffering of others. They are not so selfish as to be satisfied with their own illumination.
The Illustration of the Four Friends
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa illustrates this with another beautiful illustration. Once, four friends went out for a walk. Suddenly, on their way, they came across a great enclosure, and marvellous sounds could be heard — marks of joy: "Eat, drink, be happy, dance!" Beautiful music — these sounds were heard. So they were curious. One of them went up and could not resist the temptation. He said, "I will go and tell you what is happening inside." So he jumped inside. The second person jumped. The third person jumped.
Only the last person — he also had a terrible temptation to jump in — but he thought: there are many other people, and they can get this free joy. This is freedom — free joy. Free happiness — any other joy other than spiritual joy is to be paid for. You want to go to Brahma Loka, you have to pay. You want to go to Svarga Loka, you have to pay. You want to go to a very costly restaurant, you have to pay. But if you can attain that highest state called God-Realisation, joy comes along with it, and it is unbroken, permanent, and infinite — time and space limitations completely vanish there.
So there are great souls who voluntarily retain their bodies because they feel compassion, and they are not satisfied with their own illumination.
The Nature of Selfishness — A Note from Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa
Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is giving us the nature of a selfish person. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's language and expression have a very special merit — we have to take note of it even in his talks. So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling: "You are well aware of the nature of selfish people. If you ask them to spit at a particular place, they won't — lest it should do you good."
You know, this is something very special. In the villages, there are certain beliefs: if a person is suffering from a particular type of disease, then you collect the spit of several persons and feed that person somehow. Don't ask why or how — no rational basis — it is one of these superstitions. Similarly, the urine of several people — urinotherapy — all sorts of things are there. That is not the point. What is good, what is bad — that is irrelevant. What is important is: if some person believes this is going to do them good, in many cases such belief itself becomes the best cure. So whether that belief is rational or irrational, whether it is a superstition — what is the result alone proves whether it is real or unreal.
Even if you have got the best doctor, if you don't have faith in him, then it may not be very effective at all.
And then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: "If you ask these selfish people to bring a sweetmeat worth a cent from the store, they will perhaps lick it on the way back." And everybody — every devotee — laughed.
Ordinary Souls vs. Great Souls as Teachers
Then Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa again becomes serious. But the manifestations of divine power are different in different beings. Are ordinary souls really afraid to teach? What we see is the general tendency — the moment a person reads even a most primary textbook, immediately he wants to show to all others how learned he is. He wants to go on spreading his understanding after reading that particular book.
So you see, ordinary souls are afraid to teach others. "A piece of worthless timber may itself somehow float across the water, but it sinks even under the weight of a small bird — say, just like Nārada."
But a heavy log of wood not only floats on the water but can also carry men, cows, and elephants — and nowadays, huge ships carrying many millions of tonnes of oil, gas, and various other goods. I don't know whether you have ever seen — at least on YouTube you can see — how huge these ships are, like some multi-storeyed buildings. There are some people who own these ships for their personal pleasure. Everything, even gardens, are available on such not only ships but even special aeroplanes. In America, they call them yachts — that is, boats which are luxury boats. Some people own luxurious aeroplanes. All sorts of things are there.
What we have to understand is: these things do not at all contribute to a person's happiness — unless the person is already happy. If a happy person gets these objects, his happiness might increase a great lot. But if an unhappy person owns these things, these very things cause unhappiness — everybody will be enjoying, accepting the owners of this place.
Why Do We Dwell on the Powers and Glories of God?
Now Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is continuing, speaking to Śivānāth and the other Brāhmo devotees: "Can you tell me why you dwell so much on the powers and glories of God?"
Before we go to that subject, a small note I want to insert here. "Oh God, you are the most powerful person on earth — everybody obeys you!" Why do I need to talk like that? Does a child go on talking, "My mother is a queen, my father is a king, they can do whatever they like"? No — that is not the thing we will have to understand properly.
"I asked the same thing of Keśab Sen one day. Keśab and his party came to the temple garden at Dakṣiṇeśvar. I told them I wanted to hear how they lectured. A meeting was arranged in the paved courtyard above the bathing ghāṭ on the Gaṅgā, where Keśab gave a talk. He spoke very well. I went into a trance after the lecture."
"I said to Keśab: 'Why do you so often say such things as: Oh God, what beautiful flowers Thou hath made! Oh God, Thou hast created the heavens, the stars, and the ocean!' and so on?" Those who love splendour themselves are fond of dwelling on God's splendour. The point is: if somebody is dwelling on a particular greatness of God, that means this person very often has a desire for such things. This is what we need to understand.
The Incident of the Stolen Jewels
So then the topic has changed. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is telling us that you know, supposing we have a shrine room or a temple — Hindus have the tendency to go on decorating it so much. So once, a thief stole the jewels from the images in the temple of Rādhākānta. Māthur Bābu entered the temple and said to the deity: "What a shame, oh God! You could not save your own ornaments!"
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was fortunately present. "The idea! I said to Māthur: 'Does he who has Lakṣmī for his handmaid and attendant ever lack any splendour? Those jewels may be precious to you, but to God they are no better than lumps of clay. Shame on you — you should not have spoken so meanly. What riches can you give to God to magnify His glory?'"
Saint Anthony and the Lump of Gold
I just remembered an incident in the life of Saint Anthony the Great — he was one of the first desert fathers, in the 3rd to 4th century. He struggled for more than forty years to realise God, and it is a marvellous story — I am not going to go into that story — but the important point is: when once he was walking, he saw the devil, or whatever temptation — a huge lump of real gold was kept on his way. Because when we see such kind of things, we may be tempted to, before anybody comes, grab it and run away. But this saint — he was completely indifferent to it. Not only indifferent, he said: "This is also a devilish trick. I don't want to do anything with this piece of gold. I have renounced Kāma and Kañcana." The devil tempted this Saint Anthony both with Kāma and Kañcana — name and fame, etc. — but till the end, he completely lived only with God.
And he said: "A person who is accustomed to live with God does not relish to be with people." If he wanted, he could have had thousands of disciples — even today he inspires people. But the point I wanted to tell is: for a devotee, this gold and other things are nothing.
Because what is the psychology here? Suppose somebody has got gold — gold brings a lot of money, and with that money he can buy a lot of objects which can give sense enjoyments. But the point we have to realise is: when a person is getting much, much more happiness from God, why does he require all these things? Not only does he not require them — in fact, they become a nuisance for him. Because valuable things need to be preserved, an eye has to be kept on them, so much attention has to be done, and one may lose one's Bhakti or devotion to God as well. So many things are there. That is why Ṭhākur said: "Mother, I don't want anything from You — I want You."
So this Māthur Bābu — what a type of devotee, God alone knows — said, "Oh God, You could not save Your own..." Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says: "The idea! I said to Māthur: 'Does he who has Lakṣmī for his handmaid and attendant ever lack any splendour? These jewels may be precious to you, but to God they are no better than lumps of clay. Shame on you — you should not have spoken so meanly. What riches can you give to God to magnify His glory?'"
As I said: what is the essence? When a person is happy, everything becomes secondary — it is not even secondary, it is not necessary. And this happiness is coming from one's own self, one's own nature. Therefore, where is the need to struggle to get happiness? Every object in this world is only a means — an instrument — to get happiness.
Finding Joy in the Person Himself
So therefore, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues: "A man seeks the person in whom he finds joy. What need has he to ask where that person lives, the number of his houses, gardens, relatives, and servants, or the amount of his wealth?"
"I forget everything when I see Narendranāth. Never — even unwittingly — have I asked him where he lived, what his father's profession was, or the number of his brothers. Dive deep into the sweetness of God's bliss! What need have we of His infinite creation and unlimited glory?"
The Master burst into a song — and remember, whenever Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa sings, first the bhāva — the very essence of that song — will completely occupy his mind. Second, when he sings, he will never sing as we sing. He feels the meaning, the bhāva, the essence of every word that is there in the bhajana — he enjoys it the most.
The Song: Dive Deep, O Mind
The master sings:
"Dive deep, O mind, dive deep in the ocean of God's beauty. If you descend to the uttermost depths, there you will find the gem of love."
So the Bengali equivalent — "dive, dive, dive, love, gem of love." Here, instead of "God's beauty," you should read "love" — it is love. So if you go deep, the deeper we go into spiritual life, the greater will be our joy, and the lesser will be our desire for external things.
Let us never forget: every prāṇī, every living creature, is only seeking happiness — nothing else. And more happiness, higher happiness — that is the law in the very constitution of every living creature. And when we discover that what we are seeking is within ourselves, then we will never want even to open our eyes and look at anything.
The Song: Go Seek, O Mind
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa continues with a beautiful song:
"Go seek, O mind, go seek Vṛndāvana in your heart, where with His loving devotees, Śrī Kṛṣṇa sports eternally. Light up, O mind, light up true wisdom's shining lamp, and let it burn with steady flame unceasingly within your heart. Who is it that steers your boat across the solid earth? It is your Guru — says Kubera — meditate on his holy feet."
And how much bhāva — waves of ecstatic bliss — might have arisen even in those people who are listening! All these Brāhmo devotees, etc. — this we can never even imagine.
Aesthetic Experience and the Artist's Absorption
So if you have ever attended some great singer and attentively listened to that person's singing, you will at least experience a little bit of that aesthetic happiness. But here we are not talking about only aesthetic happiness. Aesthetically — Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's voice, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa's feelings — that is incomparable. But that is not the only thing. There are many artists who used to be lost in aesthetic happiness — like Beethoven, Mozart, etc.
There is a beautiful story about Beethoven — how his Ninth Symphony had come to be. He had practically become deaf. One day he was walking in a moonlit night, and there was a small poor house. Somehow one of the girls in that house had acquired a battered old piano, and Beethoven heard her — probably she was trying to imitate Beethoven's own symphonies. For some reason, some impulse made him enter the house, and he asked: "May I play on the piano?" Immediately the girl vacated her seat, and he sat down.
He looked out — he saw this beautiful moon. Remember, in those days the skyscrapers, etc., were not there, and these real artists will be in a very special mood. So immediately, he started — a new composition arose, and absorbed in himself, he played. And everybody was so absorbed in that play of the piano. Then Beethoven went home and noted down what he had written spontaneously — that had risen as a creative idea in his mind.
And you know, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was such a person. Even when he was young — seven or eight years old — one day he saw in the incomparable beauty of the darkened sky a flock of pure white swans starting to fly. And that very sight made him totally unconscious. People thought he was suffering from fits. But when he came back to consciousness, there was no sign of ill health. On the contrary, he said, "I was full of joy within." Inside, he was a true artist.
And whenever he used to sing, he used to be absorbed in that bhāva. And the fortunate people who heard this singing, they used to feel that bhāva — at least temporarily, they used to enjoy that. Now of course all of us will miss that. Even Swami Vivekānanda's voice is not available — the voice that used to hypnotise people. As somebody said: even if Swami Vivekānanda speaks nonsense, it is so enchanting that it mesmerises people. Some people's voice is a mesmerising voice. Unfortunately many of us do not possess that voice.
Conclusion
So Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is illustrating — through parables, through beautiful illustrations, through similes, through singing — and it is a joyous affair. All that we can do is mentally create that atmosphere, try to enjoy it. And Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is continuing, which we will continue in our next class.
Closing Prayer
Om Jānānāṃ Śāradāṃ Devīṃ Rāmakṛṣṇaṃ Jagadgurum
Pada Padme Tayo Śṛtvā Praṇamāmi Muhur Muhuh
May Sri Ramakrishna, Holy Mother, and Swami Vivekananda bless us all with bhakti.
Jai Ramakrishna!