He handles. He bows to all, serves all and embraces all, seeing Himself in all. He plays atya patya and gilli danda with His lovers, at the same time He kindles in their hearts a faith and reverence, a devotion and emotion which words cannot mouth. He has transformed hard hearts into mellifluous affection by His very presence.
Baba today is a Universal Light of silent radiance. The atlas cannot give a knowledge of London, nor a painting, the taste of a mango. Go to Him, shedding off your sanskaric ego; then alone you can be conscious of the God in Him. He awakens your soul when your heart wakes up to His silent touch. Hearts are united when Love unites hearts; the world is united when hearts are in harmony with the unique Soul of beings. Baba has descended here to sow the seeds of Love in our hearts, and through Love, to bring the consciousness of Oneness in humanity. Oneness in Love—that is the significant message of his incandescent Silence.
Baba does not bank on the past credit of ceremonial orthodoxy. He is not a monotonous revivalist nor a pontiff of sectarian religions. He is not a box-office guardian of monastic creeds. He is Himself—He is all selves.
He is here to awaken God-consciousness in us all, to lead humanity to its natural divinity.
Trust God sincerely and completely. He will solve all your difficulties. Faithfully leave everything to His will. Love sincerely and God shall reveal Himself. Sacrifice everything at the altar of Love and Love shall lead you to the Divine Beloved. Forced meditation is not necessary if you love and serve the master sincerely. Suppression of the mind is like caning a boy to mug up his grammar. Knowledge must bloom through love like a flower and develop like a fruit. Concentration and meditation must develop by deep subjective interest in the object. An artist enters natural meditation when he is in tune with the beauty in the art. You cannot play "Jekyll" and "Hyde" with the Divine Grace. Absolute surrender is necessary. False pretense is like the false teeth and face powder of a hag. Off with Vanity Fair! Amir Chand need not be rich; nor Fakir Chand poor. Name-and-form illusion is like Don Quixote tilting at the windmill. The world is honey-combed with party politics and pontific vanities. Big words and flattery of Gods, change of names and painting of bodies have nothing to do with realization of Truth. Mechanical devotion and mechanical meditation are like armchair philosophy in ivory towers.