"My dearest spiritual children," the Master began, "you know that I am now quite old. I shall soon pass behind the curtain of Eternity. But now I have a very sweet desire. Although I have written very little in my life, I wish all my writings to be published in a small book. I wish to leave this book for humanity, as humanity's possession."
All his disciples were sad to hear that their Master would soon leave them. But everyone was deeply moved that the Master would leave his writings for them to cherish and treasure.
"Spiritual Masters," continued the Master, "are not supposed to be writers. Except for one or two Masters who wrote considerably, most of them had nothing to do with literary work. Krishna, Buddha, the Christ — these Masters did not write. Some Masters did not even know how to write their own names."
"O Master," one disciple said, "whether you compose books or not, your soul's blessing and concern are more than enough for us."
"Yes," the Master said, "I love you people, and you have my constant concern. But I am not only for six or seven hundred disciples. I am for humanity, for the whole world. I wish to offer to humanity what I have and what I am in the form of my writings. I have something special to offer the hearts and minds of humanity. So out of hundreds of disciples, I have chosen you thirty to help me fulfil this sweet desire of mine."
The disciples were happy that the Master had chosen them. "We are eager to fulfil you, Master," one girl said, "But please tell us what you would like us to do."
"Since I want to offer this book to the world, I feel that it should be as perfect as possible. True, it is not absolutely essential that I offer this book at all. And even if my writings are published without being organised and carefully presented, humanity will still derive benefit from them. But you know that I am an Indian, and English is not my native tongue. For you to help me present this book in polished form is very easy for you, since English is your native language."
One boy said, "You don't need us, Master. It is your consciousness, your light, your capacity which will illumine the world through your book."
"It is true," agreed the Master, "that my task is infinitely more difficult than your task. When I write, it is from a plane far beyond the mind. But since we have the capacity — 'we' means you as an extension of myself — to make this book as perfect as possible, I feel we should utilise this capacity. Some of you will go through my writings and categorise them according to subject. Some of you will type, some will proof-read, some will do art work, some will do the printing. All of you will work for me. All of you will help me fulfil my sweet desire. I have chosen you because I have perfect faith in you. You are my own limbs, my chosen instruments who will serve the Divine in me in the way it wants to be served.”
"To work for the Master is the highest blessing," the disciples said. "We are deeply honoured that you have asked us to work for you."
"What else is meditation," said the Master, "if not this kind of service? You people may think that you meditate only once a day in the morning or during meetings with me. But no, every second your life can be meditation if you serve me devotedly. Believe me, that is absolutely the highest form of meditation. Do your work soulfully, devotedly, unconditionally, and you will see if what I am saying is true or not. Keep your minds and hearts on me as you work. Offer me your love, devotion and surrender through your dedicated action. Be with me, of me, for me, and you will have my deepest blessing and highest pride."
In this way the Master inspired his disciples to help him fulfil his sweet, divine wish.
September 17, 1974From:Sri Chinmoy,Lightless soldiers fail, Agni Press, 1974
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/lsf