Through Sorrow, the Self Awakens

Man desires happiness; he does not desire suffering. In the language of the scriptures: *Sukham bhavet, dukham ma bhavet*-'May there be happiness; may there be no suffering.' Secondly, he does not desire death; he desires immortality. Every individual fears death. If we were to truly attain a firm, experiential realization of our own imperishable nature, then the illusion of death would vanish. Furthermore, if we were to realize that our very essence is Bliss (*Sukh-swaroop*), then the craving for external happiness would subside. Fear would dissipate-specifically, the fear of death and the fear of suffering. Moreover, a human being should not feel insignificant or inferior. Day and night-wherever they may be, and whatever their level of intellect-people are constantly striving to become 'great': some through physical strength, others through wealth, and still others through positions of authority. Our ceaseless endeavor-whether we possess true spiritual knowledge or not-is focused solely on elevating our own status. Yet, if one were to realize that there is absolutely no one greater than oneself, that obsessive thought would vanish. One would attain a state of true contentment. Now, suppose the urge to become 'great' ceases to trouble you; that alone brings a great sense of peace. However, there remains a second aspect: no matter how great a person becomes-no matter how wealthy, or how high a position they attain-death remains an inescapable reality, present everywhere. The fear of death can be conquered only when we realize our true nature as the *Amrit* (the Immortal Essence)-as the Imperishable Self. Indeed, all our spiritual narratives and legends exist precisely to convey this truth. Among these, the most widely known and celebrated tale is that of the *Srimad Bhagavatam*. In the context of the *Bhagavatam*-as far as our current understanding goes-the primary listener (*Shrota*) was King Parikshit. And, at the very least, everyone is aware of the incident involving Parikshit wherein a snake was placed around his neck. He was a king of such immense righteousness and virtue; yet, it serves as a stark reminder of how one’s state of mind-one’s *mati*-can suddenly be compromised by circumstances. It happened when he encountered a saint who was sitting in deep meditation with his eyes closed. As was customary, the King approached to pay his respects-for kings were traditionally accorded great honor: 'Welcome, please be seated.' However, misinterpreting the situation, the King thought, 'He has closed his eyes specifically to avoid looking at me; he must be a hypocritical charlatan (*Dhongi Baba*).' In a fit of pique, he picked up a dead snake lying nearby and placed it around the saint’s neck. A photograph of a similar incident involving me is likely displayed here as well. I was once at the *Kumbh Mela* in Prayagraj when a snake charmer-who went around displaying his snakes to earn a livelihood-approached me. He, too, placed a snake around my neck. I had to steel my mind and suppress my reaction; I did not flinch or cry out in alarm. Although I, too, felt a sense of fear, I did not allow the people around me to perceive it. There are many such things-thoughts and emotions-that reside deep within our minds, yet remain hidden from the external world. Internally, we are often filled with feelings of inferiority and self-deprecation-feeling small and inadequate. One desires to become great-to grow in stature. Yet, in reality, one has not truly grown at all. Nevertheless, one remains entirely engrossed in this very pursuit. Consequently, a saint is compelled to conceal his own weaknesses; to eradicate them entirely is, after all, an immensely difficult task. Ideally, there should remain no fear, no anxiety, and no lingering desire or sense of lack.