radhasoami. 189
money soon begins to slide into the doctor’s pocket for treatment of all kinds of ail-
ments, or into the lawyer’s purse when they get involved in prolonged and expen-
sive litigation.
“Then, again, some seek pleasure in wine and whiskey and in eating the flesh of
animals, fish, and fowl. These things may give them pleasure of the palate; they may
appear to be rich and savory, but quite often they also land them in hospitals and
nursing homes, sometimes even in prison cells, entailing hard labor.”
Maharajji then went on to the riddle of why peace and happiness are so elusive
and why pain and pleasure are so intermingled in every life. Taking the question
of personal misery onto the existential plane, he proceeded to give the traditional
Indian answer to the cause of suffering, namely, the workings of karma.
“Sages and seers have called this world the ‘field of karma,’ for here we have to
reap what we have sown. Crops of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, grow strictly
according to the seeds of good and bad karma. If we sow seeds of pepper, we shall
harvest pepper. If we plant mangoes, we are entitled to enjoy the taste of mangoes.
It ’s the load of karma that is keeping us in this prison house of ‘eighty-four’ [a ref-
erence to the traditional Indian notion of there being 8,400,000 species in cre-
ation—“wombs” through which one must be successively reborn to attain moksha].
Look at our present state. After every death, the messengers of Death lead us be-
fore Dharma Rai, the Divine Accountant, who takes into account our unfulfilled de-
sires and wishes and accordingly decides where and when we have to be born again.
We are not yet rid of the shackles of one body when the sheath of the next one is al-
ready there to confine us. Like branded habitual criminals, we are fettered and
shifted, as it were, from one cell of the prison house to another. Neither through
good deeds nor through bad ones can one obtain release from this prison of lives. If
bad deeds are iron fetters, then good deeds are fetters made of gold. After exhaust-
ing their fruits, we are back to misery, sorrow, and pain. Our situation is indeed like
that of a man clinging to the branch of a tree whose roots are being gnawed by rats
while a deadly cobra waits for the man to fall on the ground. In this predicament two
drops of honey [of sensual pleasure] fall on his tongue, and he becomes oblivious
to everything as he savors their sweetness.”
The panthi sang:
All treasure is within thy home.
There is naught without.
Thou shalt attain it through Guru’s grace
When thy inner door is opened.