Narendra Modi: commitment

Transcript context

…It seems like you’ve put in a lot of effort. Look, I don’t usually talk much about this, but I can share a few external aspects of it. I grew up in a very small town. Our life was all about being part of a community. We lived among people, surrounded by them. That was just how life was. There was a library in the village, and I used to go there often to read books. Whenever I read something from the books, I often found myself feeling inspired, thinking, “Why shouldn’t I shape my own life like that?” That desire was always there. When I used to read about Swami Vivekananda or read about Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, I would often wonder, “How did they live? How did they build such remarkable lives?” And for that, I constantly experimented on myself. Most of my experiments were physical in nature, testing my body’s limits. For example, where I lived, winters weren’t too harsh, but December nights could get quite cold. But still, at night, the cold would bite. It was natural. So, sometimes I would decide to sleep outside in the open with nothing to cover myself, just to see how my body endures the cold. So, from a very young age, I would often experiment with my body, and this became a regular thing for me. For me, going to the library, reading extensively, visiting the pond, washing the family’s clothes, and swimming became part of my routine. Swimming was my main physical activity. All of these things were deeply connected to my life. Later as I read Vivekananda, I became even more drawn to his teachings. One time I read about Swami Vivekananda, his mother was ill. So, he went to Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa for guidance. He would argue with him, debate with him. In his early days, he would often argue with him, questioning everything intellectually. He said, “My mother is sick. If I were earning, I could take better care of her.” Sri Ramakrishna said, “Don’t bother me with all this. Go to Goddess Kali. She is there. Ask her for what you need.” And so, Swami Vivekananda went and sat before Goddess Kali’s idol for hours, and he immersed himself into deep meditation. After a few hours when he returned, Ramakrishna asked him, “So, did you request the goddess?” Swami Vivekananda replied, “No, I didn’t.” Ramakrishna said, “Go again tomorrow. She will fulfill your request. Ask her.” He went the next day and then again the day after. But each time, he found himself unable to ask for anything. His mother was unwell and he needed help, but when he sat before Goddess Kali, he was completely absorbed in her presence, and yet he could not bring himself to ask for anything. to ask for anything. His mother was unwell and he needed help, but when he sat before Goddess Kali, he was completely absorbed in her presence, and yet he could not bring himself to ask for anything. Each time he returned empty-handed. He told Sri Ramakrishna, “I came back empty-handed. I didn’t ask for anything.” To stand before the divine goddess and not be able to ask for anything, that moment, that experience lit a flame inside him. There was a spark in his life. And from that came the spirit of giving. I believe that perhaps that small incident in Vivekananda’s life left an impression on me too. The thought of, “What can I give to the world?” Maybe true contentment comes from giving. If my heart is only filled with the hunger to receive, that hunger will never end. And within that realization came the idea of Shiva and living being as one. If you wish to serve Shiva, serve all living beings. Recognize the unity between the divine and the living. True non-duality is experience through this realization. I would often lose myself in such thoughts. My mind naturally drifting in that direction. I remember an incident in the neighborhood where we lived, just outside there was a Lord Shiva temple. One day a saint came to stay there. So, that saint used to engage in meditation and spiritual practices. I started feeling drawn to him thinking perhaps he possessed some spiritual energy. I had only read about Swami Vivekananda, never seen such figures in real life. During Navratri, he was fasting and he had placed sorghum grains on his hand, a common tradition in our culture. In a way, sprouting seeds on your palms and sleeping like that for nine or 10 days, it was a kind of spiritual vow, and this saint was observing it. During those same days, my maternal uncle’s family was preparing for my aunt’s wedding. Everyone from my home was going to my uncle’s house for the wedding. Now, for any child, visiting an uncle’s house is always exciting. But I told my family, “I’m not going. I’ll stay here and I will take care of Swamiji. Since he has these grains on his hand, he can’t eat or drink, so I will take care of him. ” So, as a child, I chose not to attend the wedding. I stayed back serving Swamiji instead. Somehow my mind was naturally drawn in that direction. At times, whenever soldiers from my village came home during their holidays, they would walk around in their uniforms with such pride. I would run behind them all day thinking, “Look at them. They are serving the nation.” So, there was always a strong feeling inside me to do something meaningful. I didn’t fully understand what it would be, and I didn’t have a roadmap. There was a hunger within me, a deep longing to understand life, to explore its meaning. So, I just set out and began the journey. idn’t fully understand what it would be, and I didn’t have a roadmap. There was a hunger within me, a deep longing to understand life, to explore its meaning. So, I just set out and began the journey. During my time in the mission, I came across remarkable saints. They showered me with love and blessings. Among them, I formed a special bond with Swami Atmasthanandji. He lived for nearly 100 years, a life full of wisdom and service. In his final years, I deeply wished for him to stay with me at the Prime Minister’s residence, but his responsibilities were vast and he couldn’t come. However, back when I was chief minister, he used to visit and I was fortunate to receive his blessings and guidance. He once looked at me and said, “Why have you come here? You have a greater purpose to fulfill. Is your priority your own well-being? Or is it the welfare of society? Whatever Swami Vivekananda said was for the betterment of society. He said you are meant to serve others.” So, I remember feeling a bit disheartened at that moment. I had come seeking guidance, but all I got were words. So, I continued on my journey, wandering from place to place. I spent time in the Himalayas embracing the solitude of the mountains. I met many remarkable individuals along the way. Some were great ascetics, people who had renounced everything, but still my mind remained restless. Perhaps it was my age of curiosity, of wanting to learn, to understand. It was a new experience, a world shaped by the mountains, by ice, by the towering snow-covered peaks. But all of this played a huge role in shaping me. It strengthened me from within and enabled me to discover my inner power. Practicing meditation, waking up in the sacred pre-dawn hours, bathing in the cold, serving people with devotion and naturally tending to elderly saints became a seamless part of who I was. Once, a natural calamity struck the region, and I immediately devoted myself to helping the villagers. So, these were the saints and spiritual masters with whom I stayed from time to time. I never remained in one place for long, I kept moving, constantly wandering. That was the kind of life I lived.…

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