Traits of bound souls

They are bound souls who constantly dwell with ‘woman and gold’ and do not think of God even for a moment. How can you expect noble deeds of them? They are like mangoes pecked by a crow, which may not be offered to the Deity in the temple, and which even men hesitate to eat.

“Bound souls, worldly people, are like silk-worms. The worms can cut through their cocoons if they want, but having woven the cocoons themselves, they are too much attached to them to leave them. And so they die there.

“Free souls are not under the control of ‘woman and gold’. There are some silk-worms that cut through the cocoon they have made with such great care. But they are few and far between.

“It is maya that deludes. Only a few become spiritually awakened and are not deluded by the spell of maya. They do not come under the control of ‘woman and gold’.

Two classes of perfect souls

“There are two classes of perfect souls: those who attain perfection through spiritual practice, and those who attain it through the grace of God. Some farmers irrigate their fields with great labour. Only then can they grow crops. But there are some who do not have to irrigate at all; their fields are flooded by rain. They don’t have to go to the trouble of drawing water. One must practise spiritual discipline laboriously, in order to avoid the clutches of maya. Those who attain liberation through the grace of God do not have to labour. But they are few indeed.

The ever-perfect

“Then there is the class of the ever-perfect. They are born in each life with their spiritual consciousness already awakened. Think of a spring whose outlet is obstructed. While looking after various things in the garden, the plumber accidentally clears it and the water gushes out. Yet people are amazed to see the first manifestations of an ever- perfect soul’s zeal for God. They say, ‘Where was all this devotion and renunciation and love?’”

The conversation turned to the spiritual zeal of devotees, as illustrated in the earnestness of the gopis of Vrindāvan. Ramlal sang: Thou art my All in All, O Lord!-the Life of my life, the Essence of essence;

In the three worlds I have none else but Thee to call my own.

Thou art my peace, my joy, my hope; Thou my support, my wealth, my glory;

Thou my wisdom and my strength.

Thou art my home, my place of rest; my dearest friend, my next of kin; My present and my future, Thou; my heaven and my salvation. Thou art my scriptures, my commandments; Thou art my ever gracious Guru;

Thou the Spring of my boundless bliss.

Thou art the Way, and Thou the Goal; Thou the Adorable One, O Lord! Thou art the Mother tender-hearted; Thou the chastising Father; Thou the Creator and Protector; Thou the Helmsman who dost steer

My craft across the sea of life.

MASTER (to the devotees): “Ah! What a beautiful song!-‘Thou art my All in All.’ "

Ramlal sang again, this time describing the pangs of the gopis on being separated from their beloved Krishna:

Hold not, hold not the chariot’s wheels! Is it the wheels that make it move? The Mover of its wheels is Krishna, By whose will the worlds are moved. . . . The Master went into deep samādhi. His body was motionless; he sat with folded hands as in his photograph. Tears of joy flowed from the corners of his eyes. After a long time his mind came down to the ordinary plane of consciousness. He mumbled something, of which only a word now and then could be heard by the devotees in the room. He was saying: “Thou art I, and I am Thou-Thou eatest-Thou-I eat! . . . What is this confusion Thou hast created?”

Continuing, the Master said: “I see everything like a man with jaundiced eyes! I see Thee alone everywhere. O Krishna, Friend of the lowly! O Eternal Consort of my soul! O Govinda!”

As he uttered the words “Eternal Consort of my soul” and “Govinda”, the Master again went into samādhi. There was complete silence in the room. The eager and unsatiated eyes of the devotees were fixed on the Master, a God-man of infinite moods. Adhar Sen arrived with several of his friends. He was a deputy magistrate, about thirty years old. This was his second visit to the Master. He was accompanied by his friend Saradacharan, who was extremely unhappy because of the death of his eldest son. A retired deputy inspector of schools, Saradacharan devoted himself to meditation and prayer. Adhar had brought his friend to the Master for consolation in his afflicted state of mind.

Coming down from samādhi, the Master found the eyes of the devotees fixed on him. He muttered to himself, still in an abstracted mood.