I have left Munger now and settled here. This is my airport. My aircraft will fly away from here. I have not come here from my own desire; I was asked to come. The villagers have accepted me with love. There are no mosquitoes here. It is very peaceful. At night you can experience absolute silence and stillness. There is very little electricity and it is disconnected at night. Everyone is asleep by eight o’clock.
I left home and never turned back. I left my guru’s ashram and never went back. I left Munger and never went back. One day I shall leave this place and never come back. I do not have the habit of going back. I have never practised looking back. What is the use of looking back? How many times have I been born? How many parents have I had? How many times have I enjoyed pleasure and borne sorrow? How many friends and enemies have I had? Where are they now? Whom should I search for? Even in this birth how many friends have I had? Where have they all gone?
Life is transitory. You have to forget the past. If you don’t, then eventually one day everything will be sealed in a crypt by itself. Sometimes when you have a deep connection with someone, it manifests again in a later birth in some form and a little bit of interaction takes place. Apart from this, no one is related to anyone in this world. We come with a gust of wind, meet on a shore and then separate to go our own ways. We are all guided by the winds of karma. Therefore, I have maintained a steady attitude in life. I accept the fact that people meet me and then go away. A sadhu is nobody’s friend. When offered a smoke, he shares a puff and then slips away.
Even a donkey leaves his footprints behind. Yes, a guru is a donkey and the disciple is a dog. Their natures are akin to the donkey and the dog. The donkey leaves footprints behind. I am also leaving behind an impression or two. They are memories, footprints in the sands of time.
Rikhiapeeth, 1 December 1994, first published in Bhakti Yoga Sagar Vol. 2