Sl. No. 16 - Sermon - (My mother is everything.)

Dhaka - East Bengal Brahmomandir
Sunday, 14th Bhadra, 1293 Bengali Calender [1887 A.D.]

In the course of their play during childhood when one child is hit or abused by another, the strong one takes revenge, but the weak one says repeatedly, “Look, I will tell my mother that you have hit and abused me.” That child believes that his mother can discipline anybody, that she has the authority over everyone. When the children get deeply involved in the game, the relatives come and say, “It’s already late, better go home.” Because of the involvement in the game children pay no heed to the words of their relatives, but once the game is over they start crying loudly, “I want to go to my mother, I want to go to my mother.”

They then make no difference between known or unknown persons, but on getting any companion they want to go to their mother along with him. At the start of the play, on being hurt they remember their mother and say, “I will tell my mother”, but as they become engrossed as the game progresses, they forget their mother, but again when the game is over, they remember their mother. The child thinks of the mother all the time, tells her about all his pleasures and pain, tells her about all that gives him happiness and joy. He thinks that there is no one in this world like his mother, that there is no greater pleasure than sleeping beside his mother, or eating from his mother’s hand. The child sees nothing as pretty as his mother. To the child the mother is everything. But the same child, after growing up and entering samsar, gets more and more involved in it and so more and more he gets distanced from his mother. He no longer has the feeling of his childhood. No longer does he remember his mother always. He does not tell his mother everything. She is no longer everything to him like she was in his childhood. But to our universal mother Anandamoyee, we shall always remain her children and play near her always. If we have firm belief that we have a mother, then whatever be the degrees of blows that we may receive from the samsar we shall say like the child, “Oh Samsar, do you think I am a destitute and that I have no one! No, I have my mother. I shall tell her everything.” When we begin to feel that the universal mother is everything, then we tell her about whatever happens to us anytime. When we do not develop such a feeling, only then do we ourselves try to redress whenever someone does something to us. When we have real faith in our mother, and if somebody beats us, we may just not lift our hands even then, but cry out, “Mother, Mother.” Mother too then is moved, she comes running and says, “Hey you all, why are you beating my child? You think he has nobody to protect him?”

There is nothing to fear from the samsar once we realize the universal mother as our protector, our king. If hundreds and thousands of people stand to oppose me, I frown upon them and tell them, ‘Oh you all, where will you run and hide when my mother comes?’ The way, relatives call us to return home when we are engrossed in games, similarly when we are engrossed in enjoying sense pleasures, temptations of our nature, then the relatives of our religious world—the saints and devotees shout loudly asking us to return to that universal mother—our home. We do not pay any heed to their words. They say appealingly, “Oh dear, evening is setting in, you cannot stay alone without mother, you cannot sleep without mother”. Inspite of being reminded thus about our mother, we fail to remember.

There is no happiness or peace untill I return to that stage of my childhood when I used to tell my mother everything; when she used to be the companion of my play and sleep. There is no other way unless I can look upon the universal mother in the same way I used to remember my mother in my childhood. Let people beat me as much as they like, let adversities come as much as possible, let the senses trouble me to the extent possible, still I myself shall do nothing. I shall simply shout, “Hey listen, I shall report all these to my mother,” It is not enough just to utter these words. These should be put into practice. “Why should people talk to me like this?” “Why should they treat me like this?”, these are expressions of pride and therefore the root cause of all sufferings. “I am nothing, my mother is everything, slander or adulation, none of these are mine, my mother is everything”—when such a feeling pervades the mind, suffering can no longer exist. “Look mother, they have smeared my face with mud, samsar tried to misguide me with temptations. The senses who are my companions, my servants, try to mislead me into wrong directions.”

If we can say such a thing from the core of our heart even once to our mother, then all will be defeated by seeing my mother’s angry eyes. What sort of a man am I? I cannot absorb even the slightest amount of torment by the senses, harsh words or condemnation. I become restless. I am lower than human beings, I am worse than the worst. But however much inferior I may be, I have my mother. Inspite of being smaller than the smallest, I shall stay in the lap of my mother, sleep beside my mother, sit near my mother—during all my good and bad times I shall stay with my mother. You all are my mother’s children. Bless me, give me the dust of your feet so that I may become like this.

Oh Mother ! make me forget all that make me proud. Transform me back to childhood so that I may call my Mother even while asleep or awake. Give me back that state which you gave during my childhood. I am a trifle, I am a trifle, I am worthless. I shall only look up to you, I have nothing to fear, Oh Mother. You alone are blessed, You alone are blessed.