Om Hrim Ritam Lecture 03 on 08 September 2019

Full Transcript (Corrected)

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जननीम्  सारदाम् देविम् रामकृष्णं जगद्गुरुम् ।

पादपद्मे तयोः श्रित्वा प्रणमामि मुहरमुहुहु ।।

Oṃ jananīm sāradām devīm rāmakṛṣṇam jagadgurum |

pādapadme tayoḥ śritvā praṇamāmi muhurmuhuhu ||

We are discussing the second hymn composed by Swami Vivekananda. As I mentioned, this hymn was composed because Swami Vivekananda had the vision of Sri Ramakrishna in the form of a Mantra.Before we proceed further, a very important point is—so, we have got eyes. In some people, the eyes become very important Indriyas. For some people, the ears become very important. Now, people have recognized that those who have got the ears as important are very prominent. They can remember, they can hear better, and they can become better musicians. Hence, they can distinguish sounds better, etc. Those people who have got eyes as prominent can become very good painters; they can distinguish different colors, etc. So, even though these are physical things, when a person, a Sādhaka, has an experience of God, that experience also depends upon these. This experience itself is beyond the five sense organs, but when the remembrance comes, they say—"I heard God's voice" or "I had a vision of God." For most of us, it is the eyes that are prominent. That's why we say—"I saw a light, I saw a particular form of God," etc. But if the ears are prominent, then they hear. The important point here is: what does a form or a sound really represent? It has got nothing to do with form. It gives knowledge. For instance, I can close my eyes, and I can feel you. But what do I get? Knowledge. Whether I'm seeing you or feeling you, I get knowledge. Suppose a tiger roars. What do I get? I gain the knowledge that there is a tiger. The purpose of all the five sense organs is to obtain knowledge. That is important. So, when Swami Vivekananda had a vision of Thakur beckoning him like that, or when he had the vision of Sri Ramakrishna in the form of 12 letters or sounds, the point is he knew that this is Sri Ramakrishna. So, anyway, different sādhakas have different types of experiences based upon their physiological faculty importance. That is the difference between artists, painters, as well as musicians.

Some people can remember faces very well, but when you ask them their name, they can't remember. Some people remember names by hearing the sounds. The moment the phone is answered, they can identify the person at the other end just by hearing their voice. We can also distinguish between one’s dog barking and another’s dog barking. So, whether it is sound or sight is not important. What is important is the knowledge that we get from it.

Look how Sri Ramakrishna is being described here - Oṃ Hrīṁ Ritām Tvam Acalaḥ - So the first verse of the hymn Oṃ Hrīṁ Ritām we have discussed extensively. Oṃ is the representation of Parabrahma – the highest reality. It has nothing to do with the shape or the size, whether you write it in different styles or you write it in Telugu, Kannada, or Hindi. That's not important. What it conveys is important. Language is of two types: spoken language and written language. It has only one purpose. When I'm reading something, is it spoken or is it written? Both. The writing makes me feel like I'm hearing the author speaking to me. In either case, what we should not forget is that it represents knowledge; some knowledge is coming here. So Oṃkāra, in whatever language you write or however you pronounce it, represents the Divine Lord.

And God has two aspects: the impersonal and personal – Nirguṇa Brahman and Saguṇa Brahman respectively. Nirguṇa Brahman cannot be described. It cannot even be thought about, because a thought means a particular knowledge about any particular object. For example, the thought of a chair; the thought of a table. There is a distinction between the thought of the chair and the thought of the table. Then you understand, this is a different object, that is a different object, and this is good, or not so good. That ability to look at infinity in a finite manner – finite manner means distinguishing one from the other – is called Saguṇa Brahman. Nirguṇa means there is no distinction. Suppose you see a lake, do you distinguish the left side of the water, the right side of the water, back water, front water, above water, below water? You cannot distinguish water. But if there is some dirt, etc., then you say dirty water, sweet water, salt water – but that is not about water.

Do you see? When we say sweet water, we are not talking about water; we are talking about sweet, about two separate objects, and that is why we are using two separate words. You can even make three separate words: sweet, very tasty, water. But again, you are distinguishing – what is sweet, what is tasty – and everybody doesn't feel it. But what is my point? My point is that the impersonal cannot be described. Description means division. Description means there must be at least two objects to describe. If there is only one object, you cannot describe it. Why? When we say one object, I don't mean I am there and one object is there. It means oneness. There is no "I," there is no "you," there is no "it." So that is what is symbolically represented by Oṃ.

Does it really represent the impersonal God? No. But we have to go through the door called Saguṇa Brahman. When we go beyond Saguṇa Brahman, what remains is Nirguṇa Brahman. That is why the last idea in a great spiritual aspirant’s mind is called Brahma-ākāra Vṛtti. It is a vṛtti, a thought, because you are thinking about God. But your mind has become so pure, as if the mirror is so clean that there is no difference between the person and the reflection, as it were. Only Saguṇa Brahman can be described. But nobody can experience Nirguṇa Brahman unless they get out of the door called Saguṇa Brahman. That is why Oṃkāra is described as both representing Nirguṇa Brahman as well as Saguṇa Brahman.

Now, we have to distinguish it. I discussed about it already in my past class. Aa (ā), Oo (ū), and Mm (m̐) – Āūm̐. The last syllable Mm, the Makāra is divided into two parts. The latter part of “Ommm” which is “mmm” represents Nirguṇa Brahman. Oṃ represents Saguṇa Brahman. Why is it so? Because, I hope you remember what we discussed that the whole world consists of innumerable objects. Every object has a name and every name has to come through sounds. That sound box it begins with Aa and ends with Mm (m̐). You cannot pronounce the word ‘Rama’ without touching the lips. The lips have to touch in order to pronounce Mm. You cannot utter Mm without touching the lips. In fact, this is called Oṣṭhya (labial). Oṣṭhya means lip.  It is sounded at the lips with no action by the tongue. Pa, Fa, Ba, Bha, Ma The lips are very necessary. That's why some people they have problem articulating certain words. Then they cannot pronounce these words. Anyway, what is most important for us is that this whole universe consists of many objects. Every object has a particular name and every name is to be expressed through a sound. All sounds have to pass through from Akāra to  Makāra i.e, from the throat to the lips.

And what is that particular sound which covers everything from the throat to the lips?

If I say Aa (ā), it covers only the throat part (guttural); if I say Oo (ū), it covers only the hard palate at the roof of the mouth (palatal); and if I say Mm (m̐), it covers only the lips (labial). So, if I say Āūm̐—Aa (ā), Oo (ū), and Mm (m̐)—it contains every sound possible, just as a dictionary contains the names of everything in this universe. The English dictionary consists of 26 alphabets only, and within these 26 letters everything from Saguṇa Brahman to Nirguṇa Brahman is contained. Both are contained within these 26 letters. The whole of Encyclopaedia Britannica is contained within these 26 letters. It is a combination of 26 letters. Oṃ is the only symbol in this world which represents every object in this world because it covers from A to Z or from Akāra to Kṣhakāra in Sanskrit. In Sanskrit, it ends with Kṣha. It begins with Aa and ends with Kṣha. य [ya] र [ra] ल [la] व [va] श [sha] ष [shha] स [sa] ह [ha] क्ष [kṣha]. Kṣha is not a particular letter. It is Ka + Sha, which is Kṣha. The sound when it strikes this part (throat) is Aa (ā), and the sound we hear when it travels further and strikes the hard palate at the roof of the mouth is Oo (ū). Aa (ā) + Oo (ū) becomes Āū, and when it comes here to the lips, it becomes Āūm̐.

Sanskrit vowels when they combine: a plus a is Ā (ā); a plus e becomes Ī (ī); a plus i becomes Ai, and so on. It ends with Anusvāra—aṁ (अं)—which is represented by a dot (bindu) above the letter (ं) and Visarga—aha/aḥ (अः)—which is represented by two dots (colon-like symbol) to the right of a letter (ः). So now you understand Oṃ. In this whole world, there is not another word, so far as we know, that is pronounced completely from the throat to the lips. They have specialized in it. It is not one particular syllable. A is one. K, you don't—these consonants—you don't say Ka. K plus A is Ka. K plus E is Ki. We write when we are learning the alphabet. The point is, there is a special word, specially used in many languages, especially in the Sanskrit language. It is called Kṣa. The letter "Kṣa" (क्ष) in Sanskrit is a conjunct consonant, formed by combining two distinct consonants: क (Ka) and ष (Ṣa). When combined, they create the conjunct letter क्ष (Kṣa). That's why they have created one special letter. It is not one syllable; it is a combination of syllables. So fifty-two syllables are there, and Kṣa is one of them.

But the important point is why Oṃ represents everything. That's what Swami Vivekananda understood: Sri Ramakrishna as Parabrahma. He is also Saguṇa Brahman. There was an incident—one day Sri Ramakrishna was talking with Swamiji (Swami Vivekananda) and described how this Jagat (universe) has come into existence. Afterwards, he asked Swami Vivekananda, "Did you hear what I said? What did you hear?" Swamiji replied, "Everything has come from you." From the body-mind, everything cannot come; only from pure consciousness does everything arise.

Anyway, that is Oṃ. When Oṃ becomes grossified, how does it happen? By combining with Māyā. Brahman plus Māyā. Māyā means Shakti. Shakti is the interactive agent, like pure milk. If you put a little bit of yogurt in milk, immediately it changes its nature—what does it become? Yogurt. So, if you compare Parabrahma to milk, then Māyā Shakti is that which curdles it. Where does that Māyā come from? How does it become Māyā? It is inherent in it—it cannot come from outside because, besides Brahman, there is nothing else. Therefore, Māyā is always there. Unmanifested Brahman is Nirguṇa Brahman and manifested Brahman is Saguṇa Brahman.

Anyway, these are difficult concepts to understand. Otherwise, you will blow away all Advaita philosophy. Swami Vivekananda used to tell a joke: you know, the Christian Bible starts with the Act of Creation. So, first, God created Adam and Eve—like that story goes. First, God created man and woman, like a potter creates pots out of clay. He first makes them and then puts them on the fence for drying. Then one fellow who was listening asked, "Padre, I don't understand you. You said first God created man and woman, but now you're saying He put man and woman on a fence. Which was created first—the fence or the man and woman?" The fellow had no reply. He said, "Jones, one more question like that and you’ll smash all theology." So, don't ask where Māyā has come from. Māyā has come from Brahman only. Brahman, when manifested, is called Īśvara. Īśvara is "married" Brahman, as Saguṇa Brahman, and that's why all the problems come—birth, Sṛṣṭi (creation), Sthiti (sustenance), and Laya (dissolution). "Unmarried" Brahman is called Parabrahman. Viśvaṁ darpaṇa-dṛśya-nagarī-tulyam nijāntargatam—here we are not talking about Nirguṇa Brahman, we are talking about Saguṇa Brahman because our mind is like the mirror that reflects absolute truth.They discovered this many years ago. Our illusion is that "I am seeing you, you are there." That is an illusion. I am not seeing you. The eyes and ears have brought some information, and that information is presented to the mind. I am looking at you through the mind. That's why, if you don't have the mind, you don’t see me, even if I’m sitting in front of you. You don’t see me, I don’t see you. You don’t exist, I don’t exist. This is the simple truth. This is psychology. Now psychology has discovered that nobody sees anything outside—we see everything only inside. Hope you understand now.

So this Saguṇa Brahman is represented by Hrīṁ. Hrīṁ is the Bīja Mantra for Śakti. Māyā is called Śakti-Svarūpiṇī because it engages in activity. Brahman without activity is Nirguṇa—impersonal. Brahman with activity is Saguṇa Brahman. So, what is this activity? It is Sṛṣṭi (creation), Sthiti (sustenance), and Laya (dissolution). Every activity we do consists of these three processes.

See, my hand is here; somehow, I felt the desire to lift it. There is a beginning, there is a progress, and there is an end. Everything, if you analyse, follows this process. For instance, you start breathing in, keep it there, and then breathe out. Every single act has a beginning, has progress, and has an end. That is why it is called Deśha, Kāla, and Nimitta. Let me dwell upon it because it is such a wonderful concept. Any activity can be done only if there is space. If somebody ties me up, tying up my hands, I cannot move them. Why? Because there is no space. I need space to move up and down. A beginning of any activity, the progress of that activity, and the ending requires Deśha and Kāla. This was the greatest discovery of Einstein: time and space are two aspects of the same reality.

Now, we add one third element. What is it called? Nimitta. Nimitta means a cause. So, why do you feel that you have to lift your hand? Nobody lifts their hands or moves anything without any reason. Why do you breathe? There is a reason: because you have to survive. Why do you lift your hand? Maybe a mosquito is biting, and you want to drive it away. So, every activity has a purpose, regardless of whether it is for a right purpose or for a wrong purpose. Every activity can be done only with the help of energy, and every activity requires Deśha and Kāla—time and space. So, the whole mind is nothing but Deśha, Kāla, and Nimitta. The whole body comes out of the mind. Therefore, the body also represents the mind, and therefore, the body also has to go through Deśha, Kāla, and Nimitta—time, space, and causation. All these things require energy. That energy is called Hrīṁ—Śakti or the Bīja Mantra. That Nirguṇa Brahman, which is represented by Oṃkāra, becomes Saguṇa Brahman represented by Hrīṁ. This Śakti must have a purpose; so, the purpose can be twofold: Dharma and Adharma. Dharma gives the result which we are seeking, and Adharma gives the opposite. Let us say you want to go down. So, you start from here and go through the door that leads to the staircase. This is called Dharma. Now, you may also choose to jump out of the window, which is a faster way. That is called Adharma.

So in Oṃ Hṛim Ritām, Hṛim degenerated and properly regulated is called Ritām. Ritām means cosmic order or moral order—Dharma. And then, everything has its nature. That is also called Ritām. A mango seed will become a mango tree. A mango tree yields only mangoes. This is called Ritām. It is what is called inevitable. You cannot do otherwise because that is what it is made for. So, ultimately, according to Vedanta, the Ritām within us—what is that Ritām? Each soul is potentially divine. There is no other way. You might try to go here and there; that is also progress. If you go back, that is also part of the progress. How can it be progress?

Swami Abedanandaji

Swami Abhedanandaji explained it beautifully. I will dwell on this in two points. The first point he explains is that a man is walking and suddenly comes across a small stream that is about five to six feet wide. Now, while walking, you cannot jump five or six feet. So, what did he do? He went back about ten feet, started running, and when he came to this stream, he jumped and cleared the stream. And that is what you see in Olympic Games, in events such as pole vaulting, long jump, etc. What do they do? There is a point from where they start running and they go on increasing the speed. When they reach a point beyond which they can't put their foot (otherwise it is foul), from that point, they jump into the sand. In pole vaulting, they do similarly. Now, this man saw this stream; he went back, came running, and cleared the stream in one jump. Now, is it progress or is it regress? Going back is part of the progress. This is the important point you have to understand.

So, this is the second point I wanted to make. A man is eating wrongly. Then, you see, he got some disease. Is it progress or is it regress? It is a part of the progress because he learned his lesson. If he learned his lesson, he will never again eat the wrong food. He will safeguard himself forever. So, this is how every failure is a stepping stone to success. That's why Swamiji says there is nothing called failure. Are we learning our lessons? This is how evolution is going. There is no such thing as a mistake. That's why Swamiji went to the extent of saying that there is no sinner. Every sin is something to be learned from. Now, you may think this is stretching Vedanta too much, but it's not too much. There is no sinner in a sense. For example, somebody murders someone. According to our theory of Karmaphala, was the fellow who has been murdered destined to be murdered or not? Then why is that fellow who committed the crime called a murderer? You deserved it; that's why you got it. Then I must be given a reward, isn't it? I will be given a reward if I consider myself as an instrument. I will be punished. Suppose I send you some nice sweets through a servant or one of our devotees, and the devotee, without mentioning my name, gives it to you. Then you think, “Oh, I am so grateful to you.” The fellow never mentioned my particular name. Is that a right thing or a wrong thing? It is God who has made us instruments, and each one of us is an instrument for exhausting each other's karma. But if we become egotistic, then there is a problem. That's why Sri Ramakrishna says ego is the only enemy; there is no other enemy. Ego, egotism is the only enemy. So, in fun, he used to say a man went and questioned Sri Ramakrishna, “When do I see God?” Sri Ramakrishna said, “When you die, you see God.” This fellow said, “If I die, who is going to see God?” Sri Ramakrishna meant, when your “I” dies or the ego dies, then alone will you know that you are not the body-mind, and that you are God Himself. This is called the death of the ego. Otherwise, even if you commit suicide, death will not come.

I am extending my imagination here. Suppose two fellows committed suicide and they met in the other world. One fellow is saying, "Stupid fellow, you are really a stupid fellow." The other fellow said, "Why?" He said, "You know, had you followed my method, you would have died instantaneously without pain, but you did not know and never took my advice. That is why after a long struggle, somehow you died." You follow? What is the easiest way to die? I'm not encouraging you. What is the easiest way to die, you know? This is from my personal experience—the Tuesday before I had my surgery. They were very nice people and said, "Swamiji, now you will get some nice smell, and that ammonia is a beautifully smelling ammonia." Then I remembered Holy Mother for two breaths or so—actually, I don't remember even that—and I was out of consciousness. Only after four hours or so did I come back to my conscious state. Is this not the best way to go? If they had given a stronger dosage, I would have found myself on the other side, is it not?  There's another way. If somebody presses on the vagal nerve on the neck, they can die. It is as simple as that. And there is a more torturous way also: take a knife and kill the Japanese way—the Harakiri method. You know, they stab the knife into the abdomen to disembowel. They take a sword, wrap it in cloth, and then do it. This is called Harakiri in Japanese culture.

So, Ritām is a moral order, a cosmic order. What is the cosmic order? Everything has its own nature, and everything follows its own nature from birth to death. This is the most wonderful thing we have to understand. Each one of us has to grow in our own nature, slowly purify ourselves and grow, and we have to find out: What is the best way for me? What is my nature? What is my liability? What are my assets? Find that out and grow along in your own line of growth. It could be through Karma Yoga, Bhakti Yoga, Rāja Yoga, or through Jñāna Yoga. Yoga is common, but find out which faculty is there. That is what is indicated here by the word Ritām.

The next epithet: Sri Ramakrishna is Oṃ. Sri Ramakrishna is also Nirguṇa Brahman. Sri Ramakrishna is Hṛim. Sri Ramakrishna is the Saguṇa Brahman. Sri Ramakrishna is the cosmic moral order. Even if people don't believe in God, they have to believe in a moral order. Even if they don't believe in killing other people, they have their own concept of moral order. If I eat this food, this quantity, at this time, my health will be better. Everybody knows that. Even an animal knows; a mosquito knows. How do you know a mosquito knows? Because if you let it drink your blood, it won't go on drinking for 24 hours. It knows it will cause indigestion and might also lead to its death. That's why, as soon as the stomach is full, it falls. Even a Jonk (Hindi word for leech) knows. In some places, leeches can only drink as much as they swell. After that, they fall off by themselves. And they are very clever; you will not know anything. Painlessly, that's why it is called leeching.

Therefore, Sri Ramakrishna is Ritām. Then he says, Tvam Acalaḥ. Sri Ramakrishna's nature is Acalaḥ. Now, the beauty of this stotram is that whatever epithets are given for Sri Ramakrishna apply to each one of us in our true nature. Because we are none else but Brahman in the form of name and form. Then the term Guṇajit follows. Sri Ramakrishna is the conqueror of Guṇas. Why is it said that the whole universe is made up of Guṇas? Prakṛti consists of Sattva, Rajas, and Tamas. What is it that binds this universe? These three Guṇas. Tamo Guṇa is the lowest organism, Rajo Guṇa is the in-between, and Sattva Guṇa represents those who know about God. In between, there are infinite variations. Every creature's body is a representation of these three qualities, which correspond to three levels of knowledge. The person who thinks, “I am the body,” is represented by Tamas. The creature who knows, “I am both the body and mind,” is represented by Rajas. And the creature who knows, “I am pure Sattva,” is represented by Sattva Guṇa, knowledge, or pure mind. This pure mind is called Brāhmaṇa. A Sattva Guṇa representative is called Brāhmaṇa, while a human being with a combination of Sattva and Rajo Guṇa is called Kṣatriya. In that case, Sattva Guṇa is less, and Rajo Guṇa is predominant. The individual dominated by Rajo Guṇa, but with more Tamas than Sattva, is called Vaiśhya. Lastly, the person dominated by Tamo Guṇa, with more Rajo Guṇa and less Sattva Guṇa, is called Śhūdra. This classification has nothing to do with birth or other factors. Therefore, every human being and every creature is represented by these three Guṇas. Now, it is the three Guṇas that bind us.

The word Guṇa has two meanings. One meaning, which we know, is quality. The other meaning is that which binds; it is a rope. Guṇa means rope, and rope signifies that which binds. Now, Sri Ramakrishna has been given the epithet Guṇajit, which means he is a conqueror of Guṇas. This means he is the master of Guṇas, and therefore, he can assume any Guṇa or any combination of Guṇas he likes. When he is in pure Samadhi, what is the Guṇa? Pure Sattva. When he is teaching, it is Sattva Guṇa expressed through Rajo Guṇa. It’s funny, you know; there was a very learned Swami, but I won't name him. His voice is just like a whisper—very soft. He would say, “The lion of Vedanta roars” in an undertone that hardly anybody could hear. When Sri Ramakrishna teaches, every single syllable is heard by everybody, crystal clear, and penetrates their thick skins. That is what is called Sattva Guṇa expressed through Rajo Guṇa. So, he is a conqueror; he can also assume Tamo Guṇa. What is Tamo Guṇa? It is when he gets angry. Take, for example, sage Durvasa. Which Guṇa is he expressing? Tamo Guṇa, because he is supposed to be a very angry person. Anger, Kāma, and Krodha are called Tamo Guṇas. So, how can a great Ṛiṣhi be a creature of anger? No, it is God who is working through him for the welfare of beings.

I'm just giving an example. Let us say you see through the window, five, six people are holding one fellow, and one fellow with a cloth around his hand takes a saw, and he is cutting that fellow's legs. What would be your opinion about that fellow who is cutting? That he is a demon, hurting the other fellow. But we don't know that he is a surgeon, and that is the best he could do under those circumstances because there was no anaesthesia available at that time. They had to hold him and do the job. If they don't operate he will die. He is trying to save his life by removing the gangrenous affected part of the body under those circumstances. Now, what work is he doing? That’s Tamo Guṇa. But is this Tamo Guṇa good or evil? You see, Tamo Guṇa can also be very good. Sri Ramakrishna expresses this in his own inimitable language. There are three types of physicians. Who is the first-class physician? The third-class physician prescribes medication and says, “My good man, you take this medicine, and you will be okay,” and then goes away. The second-class physician spends more time with the patient and asks him every day, “Are you taking the medication?”—pestering him to take it because it will do him good. But what does the first-class doctor do if the patient doesn't listen? He will sit on the patient's chest, catch hold of him, and then push the medicine down his throat. When you look at him, it may appear as though he is a Tamasik fellow, but actually, he is a Sattvik because he forces the patient to take the medication for the patient’s welfare. This illustrates how even actions that seem aggressive or harsh can ultimately serve a greater purpose, aligning with the idea that all Guṇas, including Tamo Guṇa, can be utilized for the benefit of others when guided by the right intention.

Tamas of the Śhūdra is really the lowest expression, but Tamas of the Jñānī is the highest expression. Yes, that is why it is said that every baby is a Kumbhakarna. Kumbhakarna knows only two things. Especially in Bengali, that's why I call him a Bengali. You know why? There is a saying in Bengali, काजेर मद्दे दूई, खायार शुई. There are only two activities in the whole life: eat and sleep. So, that's why every baby represents Tamo Guṇa: eat and sleep. But that is the best thing that can happen for the baby. When the same baby grows up into youth, he becomes Ravanasura. A man is running after a woman; a woman is running away from a man, now and then looking to see whether that fellow is following or not. Is it called running away? She wants him to come; this is called Rajo Guṇa. And when all teeth are lost, he becomes a Vedānti. Which guṇa is that? Sattva Guṇa. Sometimes it is forced Sattva Guṇa. Every patient is observing Ekādaśī Vrata, isn't it?

Sri Ramakrishna is the conqueror of the Guṇas implying that he is the master. That means he can assume any of the Guṇas - Sattva, Rajas,or Tamas according to the need. He can get angry, he can scold, he can beat also. So Guṇedyāḥ - here first meaning of Guṇajit means he is a conqueror, master of Sattva, Rajas and Tamas. The second meaning of the word Guṇa means beautiful qualities, wonderful spiritual qualities such as – Bhakti, Jñāna, Viveka, Vairāgya, Dhyāna, Ekāgratā, Kṣhamā, Tejas, all the wonderful qualities described in the Bhagavad Gītā and other Upaniṣads,  all the most marvellous qualities we can find in any human being in this world, are all gathered in one personality. So that is the meaning of Guṇedyāḥ -it means adorned with best qualities.

So, the hymn says, “O Lord, you are Saguṇa Brahman, and you are Nirguṇa Brahman. You are the moral order and Tvam Acalaḥ.” I provided a meaning following Parasharabhatta: Acalaḥ means the divinity will never become non-divine, however much it is covered. Acalaḥ means immutable, and immutable means changeless. Many times, we are also immutable. If someone tells us, “Baba, go on thinking a little,” there is no change in us. In the second week, we are advised to do the same, and they tell us, “Baba, go on thinking a little,” but still we remain unchangeable. Acalaḥ, or ‘Unchangeable,’ mentioned in this hymn is not in that sense. Unchangeable means that the infinite cannot be changed. The other meaning I provided was that once a devotee surrenders himself to the Lord, the Lord catches hold of his hand and says, “You may try to leave me, but I am not going to leave you.” Sri Rama gave that abhaya (fearlessness) to Vibhishana. When Vibhishana surrendered, he said, “Once any devotee says to me, ‘O Rama, I belong to you,’ I will never leave that person. He may try to run away, but I will not leave him.” That is how Parashara interprets the word Acalaḥ. This is what you are.

Naktam-divam, sakaruṇam, tava pāda padmam

Moham-kaṣam, bahu-kṛtam, na bhaje yatō'ham

What is my condition? Naktam-divam. Naktam means night. Divam means daytime. Sakaruṇam means with great humility, pity upon myself—tava pāda padmam, your lotus feet. What type of person am I? Moham-kaṣam—my whole mind is completely formed of only impurities, which means Tāmasik and Rājasik qualities. In other words, Saṁsārik qualities, which means Ajñāna. Sri Ramakrishna gives a beautiful illustration of this in the very first chapter of the Gospel. Sri Ramakrishna and M (Mahendranath Gupta or Master Mahashay), in their very first meeting, Sri Ramakrishna asked him, “How is your wife? What type of wife?” He replies, “Oh, she’s a good person, but I am afraid she’s ignorant.” Sri Ramakrishna said, “Oh, tumi jñani bujhi?—and you are a knowledgeable person?” Then M remarked that until that time, he did not understand that if one has academic knowledge, it does not necessarily make him a knowledgeable person; and if one does not have education and has not passed through school, college, etc., it does not necessarily make him an ignorant person. But what Sri Ramakrishna meant is that if you know who you are, you are a Jñānī. If you don't know who you are but you know everything else, it is like knowing all about zeros but not knowing about numeral one; then you are the most ignorant person. He illustrated this with a beautiful story.

A pundit was once traveling in a boat, and nobody appreciated his scholarship. So he thought he would exhibit it to the boatman and asked, “Have you studied Vedānta?” He replied, “No, sir.” “Have you studied Vyākaraṇa, grammar?” “No, sir.” “Have you studied poetry, literature?” He said, “No, sir.” Every time he said no, the pundit responded, “One fourth of your life is gone, half of your life is gone, three fourths of your life is wasted.” Meanwhile, a storm arose, and the boatman asked one question of the pundit: “Do you know how to swim?” He said, “No.” Now the boatman said, “Then your whole life is wasted!” So this is what Sri Ramakrishna meant: a person who knows is saved. A person who doesn't know sinks more and more—in what? In Saṃsāra. Saṃsāra means suffering. He who is in Saṃsāra is called Saṃsārī. Pun intended—“Some-Sorry.” You want to be in Saṃsāra and not to be sorry; how is it possible? Saṃsāra means suffering. Mokṣha means happiness. Interpret Mokṣha that way. So who doesn't want Mokṣha? Everybody wants happiness only. Otherwise, you say, “Oh, you are talking nonsense.” I'm not talking nonsense; you are talking nonsense. Do you want to be happy forever, or do you want to be happy for a second and suffer for the whole life? That's why whenever anybody gets married and then comes to meet me, the first question I ask them is: “How many mistakes have you committed?” If they have children, that many mistakes they have committed. If they are married, they have committed only one mistake. From one mistake come all other mistakes. But we will also get over it; that's why you are coming here.

So he says, Moham-kaṣam—my mind is completely covered with Moha. What does Moha mean? Delusion. What is delusion? To understand something right as wrong and wrong as right is called delusion. So my mind is full of this Moha, and that is why we only act according to our knowledge. If we see a bottle and it is labeled as “Amṛta”—Viṣha “Amṛta” on top of it—but actually what is inside is poison, Viṣha. What is written outside? Amṛta. And in another bottle, what is written outside? Viṣha. What is inside? Amṛta. So we go by the externalities and think, “Oh, this will give me happiness.” Only afterward do we realize, after a long time we realize. At first, we don't realize; you know what happens? He has taken the wrong bottle, but the other bottles may contain Amṛta. After drinking from all the bottles labeled as Amṛta, he comes to know that every bottle is filled only with Viṣha. Then he comes to his senses. That means to say, any object which we think gives happiness in this world is like a bottle that is labeled Amṛta, but actually, it is poison (Viṣha) inside. Then what is the antidote? You come to any Ashrama, read the Bhagavad Gītā, Bible, Koran—anything you read, and outside it is labeled Viṣha—which recommends, “You have to give up this, give up that, do this, do that, give up, give up, give up, give up, give up.” That is what I call Viṣha. But if you really drink from the right bottle, it is equivalent to “pibare rāma rasam rasane,” which means “Drink (implied: absorb) the essence (rasam) of the name of Rama, O tongue (rasana). It will help you remove or be distant from association with sin.” This is the ultimate truth.

Naktam-divam—day and night, sakaruṇam, with great repentance and humility, tava pāda padmam, your lotus feet, bahu-kṛtam, I have done various evil actions. Na bhaje yatō'ham—I know that by worshipping your lotus feet I can get out of this. I know it only in my head, but my heart doesn't agree with that. Therefore, O Lord, Tasmāt tvam-eva śaraṇam, mama dīna-bandho. Therefore, O Lord, you are dīna-bandhu. Dīna means poor. What does poor mean here? Poor does not mean financially poor. Latu Maharaj says, “What is poverty? The fellow who is not happy by worshipping God, he is a poor fellow.” The fellow who may not have any possessions, but if he worships God and feels very happy, then he is a rich person according to Latu Maharaj. What a beautiful expression regarding what is poverty and what is richness! So dīna-bandhu—here, dīna means I am an ignorant person, and you are the savior of the ignorant people. O Lord, Tasmāt tvam-eva śaraṇam—I take refuge in you. Why? Because you alone can save me, and you are a dīna-bandhu, which means you love to save people. There may be people who can save, but they are not inclined to save. Like so many rich people, they can give, but they don't give. They don't feel like giving. So they are the poorest people on earth. Poor also in the sense of karma theory, because if a rich man donates, then he’s actually gaining something. Suppose a man has a million, and he donates three-fourths of his money to some good cause. Is he losing or is he gaining? He is gaining—that is the first point. The second point is, if in this world you go to any bank, how much interest will they give you? Very little. But this Karmapala Bank or the Punya Bank guarantees you a thousand percent! Yes, a thousand percent! Don't ask me how I know... how do I know? Through this story: Once, Bhimasena was in an elevated mind, and he saw Śri Krishna. He wanted to tell Krishna, “I offer my both Puṇya (merits) and Pāpa (sins)”—he was about to say that when Yudhishthira caught hold of his hand immediately and said, “Utter only these words: ‘O Lord Krishna, I offer only all my Puṇya to you.’” Then Bhima asked the reason for saying so. Yudhishthira replied, “Whatever you offer Krishna, it will come back hundredfold or even a thousandfold! So if you give Puṇya, it will give a thousand percent interest, but if you give Pāpa, it will also come back to you a thousandfold. That's why you should never offer Pāpa to God; offer only Puṇya. You have to suffer only that much; otherwise, you will have to suffer a thousandfold.” So, in this world, there is nothing anybody loses by sacrificing it for others; this is a fact. That is what the scripture says, that is what every saint tells us. But we know it. Does it bring any response in our hearts? Yes, some people don't even smile. What do you lose by smiling, you know? Smile; at least smile. If you laugh, the whole world laughs with you, and if you weep, you weep alone. Nobody will weep with you.

Now we know what we are talking about—O Lord, you are Nirguṇa Brahman, you are Saguṇa Brahman. You are the moral order; you are Dharma; you are Karma Siddhānta; you are the conqueror of the three Guṇas; and you are adorned with the most adorable Guṇas. What is one of the qualities? Ahaitukā Dayā Sindhu—i.e., without any reason, without any expectation, you bestow your best upon anybody who approaches you, Ahaitukā Dayā Sindhu. But even though you are like that, and even though I know it, day and night, with the greatest humility and longing, I did not surrender myself to you. I have committed lots and lots of evil deeds; I have not worshipped your lotus feet. Therefore, the only way for me is to surrender myself to you, which means that now I can't do anything but allow you to act on my behalf. This is the meaning.

Bhaktirbhagaśca bhajanaṃ bhavabhedakāri

Gacchantyalaṃ suvipulaṃ gamanāya tattvam।

Vaktroddhṛtopi hṛdi me na ca bhāti kiñcit

Tasmāt tvameva śaraṇaṃ mama dīna-bandho॥ 2॥

The fourth line is common to all four ślokas (verses). What is Bhakti? Bhakti means devotion. Bhaga means knowledge. Bhakti implies Bhakti Yoga, bhaga implies Jñāna Yoga, and bhajana means Bhajana Yoga. What does bhajana refer to here? There is a Sanskrit meaning for it—Bhaja Sevāyām. It is not bhajana, rather, it is bhaja sevāyām, which implies Karma Yoga. Through Karma, through Bhakti, through Jñāna (knowledge), through Karma, I am completely dedicated to you through any one of these means.

What is he saying? Bhava-bhedakāri—any one of those means can destroy this bhava, which means Ajñāna (ignorance). Bhedakāri means capable of destroying. Approach God through Bhakti, through Jñāna, or through Karma Yoga. Any or all the Yogas are sufficient. And then he says, Gacchantyalaṃ suvipulaṃ gamanāya tattvam. Tattvam means God or truth. Gamanāya means to reach the truth. Any one of them, he says, alam—is more than sufficient. Su-vipulam—clear paths; all these are very clear paths, and you don't need to entertain any doubt. Any one of them, independently, singly, can take one to God. I know that (intellectually), there is a very clear understanding, and conviction is there; I am talking about it. And that's why he says Vaktra—which means through my mouth, uddhṛta means I am going on talking about it; I know it. Hṛdi me na ca bhāti kiñcit—but my heart is running after the old ways and it is not responding. What does it mean? Response—the moment I hear, I should feel, “let me be a devotee; let me practice Jñāna Yoga, which means to have viveka buddhi. You should feel, “let me serve God.” Can you serve God really? Does God require anything? Your service means serving God through people who do not have. I will tell you that beautiful story of Namdeva before I start. Vaktra uddhṛta api, again and again, I am talking about these highest philosophical truths; hṛdi me na ca bhāti kiñcit—even a little response is not happening. That means I am not practicing what I am talking about. Tasmāttvameva śaraṇaṃ mama dīna-bandho—hence I humbly take refuge in you, O friend of the afflicted.

I mentioned śhivajñāne jīvasevā. There is a beautiful story of Namdeva. In short, Namdeva once went on a pilgrimage to Kāśhī. There is a law: whoever visits Kāśhī must visit Rameshwaram. That is why our grandmothers and others used to show, when we lay down outside at night, a light that comes from the south to the north—there’s some name for it, but I forget that name. This galaxy throws a lot of light, as though it is a royal path. Have you ever noticed? Of course, you never noticed, because you do not sleep outside, and even if you do, it is full of pollution, and you cannot see it. When all the lights go off, then light pollution will stop. There are different types of pollution, you see. There is atmospheric pollution, with smoke and all those things. Every airplane that goes by—do you know how much pollution it creates? Every motorcycle, every jeep, every car, every train—anything done through these machines produces pollution. This is called pollution. Another type is called noise pollution; from everywhere, you get noise. Noise is generated all around, and that is called noise pollution. Then, you cannot see much in space; that is called light pollution. These lights at night throw that light, which is why you cannot see anything. You go to any village where there is no light; you can see all the stars, crystal clear, as though they are chandeliers hanging and as though you can touch them. You can see meteors falling down, traveling like that. Nothing travels like that; it is traveling like this, but your illusion makes it appear as if it is traveling from one side to another. So, there is a path.

So Namdeva went to Kāśhī, and he carried Ganges water. With that water, Rameshwara Shiva had to be bathed; Abhiṣhekam had to be done. So he walked all the way along with hundreds and thousands of people. He reached the door of the Rameshwara temple. There, he saw a thirsty donkey, almost at the point of death. Every pilgrim saw that too, but they were hurrying inside. When Namdeva saw this donkey, he said, “This is Shiva for me; why should I pour water on a, what is called, lifeless stone? Here is a living Shiva.” He immediately took the water, opened its mouth, and went on pouring it into its mouth. Everybody discouraged Namdeva and said, “All your puṇya will be wasted,” to which he said, “Let it disappear; I don't care. This is my Shiva; if I can help one creature, then I consider my life blessed.” This is called śhivajñāne jīvasevā. Yes, you can do it in two ways. One way is when you are sleeping, and a mosquito finds you; it conveniently bites you and draws your blood. This is called unconscious Dāna (donation). Upon waking up, you consider it Dāna. It will not just take; many times, there are good mosquitoes who also return in the form of dengue fever, etc. But consciously, suppose something is coming, and you are awake, and it is biting you. You may deal with it in two ways: one method is to prevent it, and another method is to see how many mosquitoes you are going to feed. So you have to consider yourself, śhivajñāne jīvasevā. Of all the donations, donating blood is considered to be the most meritorious, especially if you are donating blood to a pregnant female mosquito; that is the greatest merit. If you can consider this, it might give you some consolation: śhivajñāne jīvasevā.

Yes, you can do it in two ways. One way is when you are sleeping, and a mosquito finds you. It conveniently bites you and draws your blood. This is called unconscious Dāna (donation). Upon waking up, you consider it Dāna. It will not just take; many times, there are good mosquitoes that also return in the form of dengue fever, etc. But suppose something is coming while you are awake, and it is biting you. You may deal with it in two ways: one method is to prevent it, and another is to see how many mosquitoes you are going to feed. So, you have to consider yourself in terms of śhivajñāne jīvasevā. Of all the donations, donating blood is considered to be the most meritorious, especially if you are donating blood to a pregnant female mosquito. This is regarded as the greatest merit. If you can consider this, it might give you some consolation: śhivajñāne jīvasevā.

Śhivajñāne jīvasevā—that is what Swami Akhandanandji was practicing in his life. I will narrate one incident. All the brother disciples were sleeping under one mosquito net because they could not afford a large one. All seven or eight brothers—monks—were sleeping, and it was summer in Kolkata. You know there is terrible humidity, making it difficult to breathe. They were restless but wanted to rest for a while because they aimed to wake up before three in the morning to sit for meditation. Sometimes, they wouldn't end their meditation and would not get up until three o'clock in the afternoon. They were experiencing so much joy and intoxication that they needed a little bit of sleep at night. Then one day, Swami Akhandanandji saw that they were restless. He took a big fan, dipped it in water, and began fanning his brother monks. After a few seconds, he found that all the brothers were sleeping very peacefully. He said, “My heart was filled with the greatest joy that I was able to serve Guru Maharaj in the form of my brother disciples.” This is called śhivajñāne jīvasevā.

The essence of this second verse is: O Lord, anyone can reach you through any path—whether through the path of Bhakti, Jñāna, or Karma—and each path is capable of taking any one of us out of the net of Māyā. Each path is sufficient to destroy ignorance and lead to Mukti or Mokṣa. Even though I know this, and I am convinced of it, I am unable to change my character. Why? Because of the strength of past evil Saṁskāras. In each of our cases, we can understand this. So, O Lord, there is no other way for me except by taking refuge at your lotus feet. Therefore, I take refuge in you. Out of your grace, you accept me and take me out of this Māyājāla (the web of illusion) - Tasmāttvameva śaraṇaṃ mama dīna-bandho!

Oṃ jananīm sāradām devīm rāmakṛṣṇam jagadgurum |

pādapadme tayoḥ śritvā praṇamāmi muhurmuhuhu ||