For the Indian people and a Message to the world

There be some who in the name of Purity take up arms against Lord Love, as if purity could breathe a moment’s life without love. Some die of love, others die of hatred. But it is a far more deadly crime to harbour hatred accompanied by Pharisaic purity than love unpopular but truthful. The world has enough of slaves of impurity, but perhaps more dangerous are the slaves of purity concealing their weakness under the name of morality. Be genuine, true to yourself. Live your own experience. There is no master more masterly than your own experience.

No man was ever pure at heart except through his own experience. Attaching undue importance to the merest trifle of outward purity, nay sex-hatred, keeps you off from the only true Purity— realization of Self. Extravagant regard for sexlessness and practical impotency is wandering away along the Tangent line aberrating from the true course of orbit.

If artificial morality-hawkers leave people alone, the so-called physical and mental cleanliness will be learnt just as easily and naturally as one learns to wash his hands regularly as a mere matter of hygiene, as a simple law of health. To make much fuss against sensuality is to create what divine human Nature is free from. Let your energy be directed to higher topics, you will have no time to think of anything smacking of carnality.

There are schools which tend to make intellectual paupers instead of training men to think for themselves. Moral pauperism is produced by the giving of precepts. Spiritual pauperism is produced by forcing religious beliefs on innocent boys and girls. Spiritual pauperism and religious intolerance (or fanaticism) are respectively passive and active states of the same disease.

All rivers empty into the same ocean. All loves flow into the one Love. On the bosom of God grows Beauty. This Kamala springs from the navel of Brahma. Whoever loves Beauty must reach and own it through the One who sleeps on waters. Verily, Beauty is spirit’s home, and the food of the soul is beauty. A soul without a sense of beauty is fit only for treasons, stratagems and spoils. But where is beauty? Is it in the glamour of blue eyes, roseate cheeks, nightingale voice, picturesque landscapes and fine arts that beauty lies? It does, but is not limited there. It is a sorry aesthetic taste indeed that has to wait all winter before spring brings it joy; pitiable is the state of the music-lover whose fastidious taste must be offended and wounded a hundred times before one satisfactory tune falls to his hearing; unhappy is he indeed whose pleasure is dependent on landscapes, gardens, congenial company, honeyed words, and things outside himself.

The Man of Freedom is he whose inner illumination casts a halo of beauty on all around him and from him radiates nothing but divine love. Even in robbers and drunkards the hidden divine Nature gravitated up to the surface while in the presence of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu.

The hoary-headed Sun has never seen anything but light in the course of his travels.

Is that aphorism of Yoga Darshana wrong which speaks about the love-nature even of wild beasts being redeemed and expressed under the love-power of the Free? Is the heaven of all religions to remain a dream forever if it be not this living love?