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Everything other than the Atman is Asath, like silver in the mother of pearl, a delusion, like water in the mirage, a mistake, with no real silver which one can take or real water to slake one's thirst. So too, when you base your life on the sensory objective world, which is An-atma, and produced by ignorance or Avidya, you can never derive happiness or joy. Such pictorial products of fancy cannot appease hunger or slake thirst or satisfy desire. Only the Real can produce those results.
So, too, the removal of the recurring sorrow of Samsara can be effected only by the attainment of Brahmam. Genuine Santhi cannot be earned by means of desires and intentions, study and scholarship, pomp and publicity. It can come only by experiencing the Atman, to however small an extent.
By mere force of intention, one can imagine in an instant a scene in America, but can it also be experienced in actuality, at that very instant? No. There is no use in imagining and framing in the fancy; it must be experienced, in mind and word and body. Then only can one claim to have genuine Santhi. Therefore, merely knowing about Brahmam, or Santhi or Sathyam or Saakshaathkaara leads nowhere; you may even know that there is Ananda in these; but, all that is of no use. You have to dedicate your life to win that Ananda and experience it and enter upon the discipline needed to acquire it. Then only do you deserve the Grace of the Lord and the attainment of Brahmam; then only can you get the true Ananda.
It is this subject that the "Vivekachudamani" also teaches in many ways. He who follows its teaching, without deviation, can taste the nectar of Atmic Bliss, can attain the goal of Life. Devoid of the sorrow that is inevitable in dealing with sensory objects, having no intentions and desires, one should be immersed in the Bliss of One's Own Real Reality. Man alone, of all creation, has the qualification to achieve this Supreme Joy. What a sad tragedy that he should neglect his right and wander about seeking petty pleasures, empty tinsel! Like children playing with dolls and sticks, calling them elephants and horses, man plays; but does not make them real elephants and horses. Ignorant men play in all seriousness, imagining the objects of the world to be real, and they laugh and weep, in joy and in sorrow, they blossom and droop while up or down. But that does not make the Maya Jagath less unreal!