Only that which has fallen to my share is truly mine—this is what the powerless say, and the weak listen to it. That which I can snatch away and make my own, that alone is truly mine—this is the lesson taught by the whole world.

Just because I happened to be born in this country does not make it mine—only on the day when I can seize the country by force and make it my own, will it truly become mine.

Desire is natural because the right to gain is natural. Nowhere in nature is there a command that I must be deprived of something for any reason. What the mind desires within, must be attained without—this is the contract of nature, the truth of within and without. That truth, the lesson which does not teach it, we call morality; and for this reason, mankind has never been able to truly accept morality.

There are some half-dead people in this world—those who do not know how to snatch, who cannot hold on, whose grip loosens at the slightest touch; for them, morality is a consolation—let them have it.

But those who can desire with all their heart, who can strive with all their life—

Those who know how to enjoy, who have no hesitation, they are the true favorites of Nature! For them, Nature has arranged everything beautiful, everything precious. They are the ones who will swim across rivers, scale walls, kick down doors, and snatch away what is worth having. In this lies true joy, here lies the value of precious things. Nature will surrender herself—but only to the marauder. For she loves the force of desire, the force of taking, the force of possessing—she does not wish to place the garland of her springtime bridal on the half-dead ascetic’s bony, protruding neck.

The orchestra is playing in the music room—the auspicious hour passes by, and my mind grows restless. Who is the bridegroom? He who can come with a torch in hand and claim the seat of the bridegroom, it is his. Nature’s bridegroom arrives uninvited.

Shame? No, I do not feel shame. What I need, I ask for, and even what I do not ask for, I take. Those who, out of shame, do not take what is theirs by right, they give that shame a grand name only to cover up the sorrow of their own denial. Here we are, come to this world—this is the world of reality. Those who, deceiving themselves with lofty words, leave this marketplace of things with empty stomachs and empty hands—why were they born into this solid, earthly world at all? From the pious gentlemen’s club, who would play the flute in the flowery groves of the sky, weaving sweet phrases in the air—

Did they ever beg and plead for it? I have no need for the tune of that flute, nor will my hunger be sated by those sky-flowers. What I desire, I desire with all my being. I will crush it in both hands, trample it beneath both feet, smear it over my whole body, devour it until my belly is full. I feel no shame in wanting, no hesitation in taking. Those who have grown thin and pale from fasting on principle, who have become as wan and white as the bedbugs in long-abandoned cots, their shrill-voiced reproaches will not reach my ears.

I do not wish to play at hiding, for there is cowardice in that; but if, when necessary, I cannot hide, that too is cowardice. What you desire, you wish to wall in; therefore, what I desire, I wish to tunnel out and seize. You are greedy, so you build walls; I am greedy, so I dig through them. If you use force, I will use cunning. These are the true facts of nature. Upon these truths, the kingdoms and empires of the world, the great affairs of the earth, are built and maintained. And those avatars who descend from heaven and speak in the language of that other realm—their words are not real. That is why, for all their loud proclamations, such words find place only in the corners of the weak. Those who are strong and rule the world cannot abide by them. For to abide by them is to lose strength; because—

These words are not true. Those who do not hesitate to understand this, who do not feel ashamed to admit it, they are the ones who succeed; but the unfortunate ones who, caught between nature on one side and the pressure of the Avatar on the other, set foot on two boats—one real, one unreal—sway and perish, unable to move forward, unable to survive!

There are some people who are born into this world with a vow not to live. Like the sky at sunset, there is a certain beauty in dying; they gaze at it, enchanted. Our Nikhilesh belongs to that breed—one must call him lifeless.

About four years ago, I had a heated argument with him over this very matter. He said to me, “I admit that nothing can be gained without strength, but what do you call strength, and in which direction should it be applied—that is the question. My strength lies in renunciation.”

I replied, “In other words, you are utterly intoxicated with the idea of loss.”

Nikhilesh said, “Yes, just as a bird inside an egg becomes desperate to break its shell at any cost. The shell is indeed something real, but in exchange for it, the bird gets air, gets light—in your view, perhaps, it is cheated.”

Nikhilesh speaks in such metaphors, and then—ah, it is so difficult to make him understand that even so, these are only words, not the truth; but yes, he continues with such metaphors—

Let them live in happiness if they can—we are the carnivores of the world, we have teeth, we have claws, we can run, we can seize, we can tear apart—we cannot spend our