To Remember Myself – In Gita Verse 10.9 The thoughts of My pure devotees dwell in Me, their lives are fully devoted to My service, and they derive great satisfaction and bliss from always enlightening one another and conversing about Me.
Krishna is talking regarding the person who lives into the world without forgetting oneself – into ‘self-remembering.’
Let me tell you one story:
Somebody asked Joseph Jacov: ‘What is the difference between a rabbi and zaddik?’
The Master said: ‘The zaddik remembers, and the rabbi knows.’
It was difficult for the inquirer to understand, so he said: ‘Please explain it to me in a little more detail.’ The Hassid told him a story.
Once it happened: a prince by his wrong behaviour enraged his father. And the way
the prince was behaving so uncourtly, so unkingly, that the father had to banish him out of the kingdom.
But the father was thinking that he would repent and that he would ask forgiveness and that he would come back. But the prince simply disappeared. He never tried in any way to contact his father. He never showed any desire to come back to the palace. It appeared as if he had been simply waiting – how to escape the kingdom and how to escape the palace and the father.
He wandered around the kingdom and found a group of drunkards, gamblers, prostitutes – all sorts of evil-doing was going on. He became part of it. Not only did he become a member – by and by, he became the leader. Of course, he was a prince and he had the charisma of becoming a leader.
Many years passed. The father was getting older and older, and he was worried, worried for the welfare of his only son. Seeing that death was approaching, he sent one of his most clever ministers to bring the son back.
The minister went in a beautiful golden chariot with many servants, almost a regiment following him.
A great golden tent was fixed outside the village. He sent a messenger to this prince but he himself didn’t bother to turn up. The minister remained outside the village; it was below him to go inside the village. A poor village, and it was absolutely inconceivable for him to enter the black hole where the prince was living with all those dirty people. The minister tried to contact the prince but the communication was not possible – the distance was vast. He failed and came back.
Then another, a more courageous man, was sent. He was courageous and he had understood the failure, why the first messenger, the first minister could not communicate.
So he didn’t go there like a minister; he went like a peasant in ordinary clothes, with no servants.
He simply went and mixed with the group. He became friendly, but by and by, he himself started to love that freedom. The palace was like a prison; there was no freedom. But here everybody was absolutely free, totally free. Nobody was creating any hindrance for anybody, everybody was allowed to be himself. They were drunkards, but they were beautiful people. They were gamblers, but they were beautiful people. He also failed because he himself never turned up to report back to the king.
The king was very much worried. Now the thing was becoming unmanageable. He asked a third minister, who was not only courageous, but wise also – and that was going to be the last effort.
The third minister asked for a three months leave – to prepare himself. Only then could he go. The king asked: ‘What are you going to prepare?’
He said: ‘To remember myself.’
Three months leave was granted. He went to a zaddik, to a Master, to become more mindful. The way the first minister had behaved was absolutely useless; communication was not possible. The second had done better, but he had also failed because he could not remember himself. So he said to the Master: ‘Help me, so that I can remember myself and can remember that I come from the palace on a certain duty to be fulfilled.’ Three months he meditated, a method of self-remembering – what Buddha calls ‘mindfulness.’ Then he went.
He also behaved like the second. He went like a peasant, in ordinary clothes – not only like a peasant, he went like a drunkard. But he was pretending, he was not really drunk. He lived with the group, he enjoyed their company, he pretended to drink, he pretended to gamble – he even pretended to fall in love with a prostitute. But that was all pretension – he was acting. And continuously, as an undercurrent, he was remembering himself: ‘Who am I? Why have I come here? For what?’ He was watching himself, he was a witness. Of course he succeeded.
The Hassid mystic said to the inquirer: ‘He was a zaddik.’
All the three ministers were given the same duty. Then what is the difference?
Krishna says that the first minister is not courageous. He clings to the bank, he clings to a far-away place, secure, sure of his own state, of his own safety. He talks beautifully, he can tell you everything about swimming, but he cannot jump and save you. He himself does not know how to swim. He is a rabbi, a teacher.
The other man was courageous, but his courage was more than his wisdom. He himself drowned. So remember, when you jump into a river to save someone, don’t forget that the first necessity is that you know how to swim.
The third type of teacher is a zaddik. He knows from his own experience what the first type knows only as a borrowed knowledge. He is courageous like the second, he takes the risk, but he is wise also. He remembers himself – To remember oneself is the whole art and science of religion. You can condense all religion into one word: ‘self-remembering’.
Universe has given everyone of us the same circumstances. If we live in self-forgetfulness then Krishna also cannot help us. The sages live in self-remembering so their lives are fully devoted to Universe, Krishna’s service, and they derive great satisfaction and bliss from always enlightening one another and conversing about Krishna.
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