Now I tell of the way of Hari's devotees -- listen all, giving your mind to it. The Sankhya-yogi women, devotees of Hari, whose bodies are devoted to austerity, having given up all hope in worldly life, worship the Imperishable One within their hearts; having beheld Purushottam manifest, they have set aside every other desire. Renouncing the comforts of body and home, their devotion is fixed upon the Lord; having withdrawn their minds from food and drink, they worship Hari with love. Their minds do not desire clothing or ornaments, for their love is fixed upon the Full Brahman. Such an assembly of women gathers and speaks among themselves:
"Sisters, listen to one thing -- today Maharaj is delighted with us; he speaks laughingly with words of affection, and looks at us with eyes full of nectar. Therefore great indeed is our fortune -- we are dearly loved by the Beloved. Blessed indeed is this avatar in which we have found the very support of our life-breath. We have gained today a rare, unattainable boon; all our purposes are fulfilled. Nothing at all remains lacking -- today we have met Sahajanand Swami himself. Who, having abandoned such a bliss-giving Dark Lord, would still make their human birth wretched? What unfortunate woman would still wish for mere bodily pleasure?"
In bodily pleasure lies worldly bondage; in bodily pleasure lie all the disorders of the senses. Whoever has identified herself with the body has thereby taken on the fullness of sin. There are many such foolish women -- what shall we even say, sister, of their ways? Constantly adorning themselves anew, they display their bodies before men. Wearing garments and ornaments upon their bodies, they roam about daily in ever-new finery; braiding their hair carefully each time, they wander day after day through streets and markets. They anoint themselves with oil and perfume, line their eyes with kohl, and look about coyly; delighting at the sight of a handsome man, their hearts melt and their insides grow moist with desire.
As for the man whom she thinks the very form of happiness -- listen, let me tell you what he truly is: whatever man she considers handsome and fine, look at what actually fills him within. Filled inside with marrow, fat and flesh, and yet the unfortunate woman still desires it; much pus and bile flow within, and mucus runs in shameful streams. Phlegm, spit and saliva pool like a ditch, dripping from the mouth like the clouds of the monsoon; vomit rises up, and one sees only a row of bones as teeth. His belly is full of excrement and urine, and yet this wicked woman rushes to embrace him; her wanton mind, pleased, does such deeds -- by which she is bound for hell.
Filled within by the workings of past karma, and covered outside merely by loose skin; blood fills every vein -- such is the impure state of a man's body. Sweat, semen, phlegm and bile, nails and hair -- all useless; filled with a storehouse of mucus and filth, and yet the sinful woman cherishes it fondly. A man's body is like a pit of hell, and yet a woman forms attachment to it; it is a heap of rubbish and refuse, a mountain of foul stench. Seeing it thus, from head to foot, entirely worthless, the wise gave it names accordingly -- the names "serpent," "tiger," and "lion" are common to it as well -- how then could a weak woman escape its danger? Know that these names carry real meaning; wherever one meets such a thing, it destroys its dwelling place. Even if by chance the name should seem sweet, understand well -- it may seem sweet, but it is bitter.
And listen further, my friend, let me tell you -- men, too, can be worthless and deceitful. They smoke ganja and bhang, take intoxicating tobacco preparations, and drink toddy and liquor daily. They constantly take opium and other drugs, and even in old age they dye their hair; they eat forbidden things merely to satisfy lust -- such sinful men have no shame at all. Whatever vileness exists in this world, all of it is found residing in men; whatever sin exists upon this earth, men themselves are the ones who commit it. Theft, violence, the deeds of a butcher -- men commit these, sparing nothing wicked. They fight in war, in feuds and enmity, and heads fall by the hundreds on both sides. Streams of blood flow there, and men die by the thousands upon thousands; men steeped fully in such sin are the very ones called heroes in this world. Whoever slaughters the most living beings, such sinners are the ones praised. With the bodies of such sinful men -- who, even in a dream, would form true affection? Only an unfortunate woman desires such a man -- one destined for the gate of Yama; a woman goes to hell of her own accord, through her very attachment to such a man.
Now let me tell you of men's sins as well -- listen, all of you. A man who is fickle beyond measure, whose heart holds no true resolve, he forces himself upon a woman's touch, becoming wild and helpless with lust. Look even at Brahma, father of all -- he caused affliction even to his own daughter. Look at unfortunate Indra's deeds -- he made Ahalya's life wretched. Look how the Moon-god lost his judgment -- he forcibly abducted his own guru's wife. Look at Brihaspati, guru of the gods himself -- he committed a terrible wrong against a helpless woman. Look at foolish Nahusha, who out of sheer force desired to wed Indra's own wife. Look at foolish Yayati, who demanded his own son's youth. These and other great figures, too, became wild and disordered in the body. As for lesser men who remain, how could their minds ever be steady? Therefore, whoever has obtained a man's body has already cast aside the honor of true dharma.
The very body of a man is a form of sin itself, a pit of hell for whoever encounters it; the sinful woman who falls into it, having lost her modesty, becomes truly unfortunate. She wastes her precious human birth and suffers greatly, her very life-breath stolen away by that man; there is no happiness there, only unaccountable suffering, and yet the unfortunate woman perceives happiness in it.
"Now let me tell you of our own proper conduct: we must never keep affection for anyone but the Lord. Stay a good distance from any man -- truly, one must remain vigilant about this. Never walk alone on road or riverbank, if you wish for your own true good. Never fix your eyes upon a man's face; never speak carelessly, even by mistake. Never recall or listen to talk about men; never touch their bodies even in jest. Never engage, even by mistake, in intimate conversation; guard yourself even against a painted image of a man's form.
Even with one's own father, brother, or son, one should not dwell alone in solitude with them; if by necessity such company should arise, only then is there occasion to speak. If a renunciant woman must go on pilgrimage, she should not bathe at the pilgrimage site in the company of male relations. She should keep some money for her own maintenance's sake, or else her own honor cannot be preserved. Food and clothing should be sufficient for the body's needs -- if one has to go begging for lack of these, one's dharma is lost. Whatever coarse, plain cloth one can obtain, with that one should cover the body. Whatever plain, simple food one obtains, salty or sour, eating that, one should perform Hari's worship. Since this body is a woman's, one must take great care with it.
One should conduct oneself with the utmost caution, keeping constant fear within one's heart, like a dancer walking a tightrope -- if her attention slips even once, ruin follows. Therefore one must remain ever watchful; keep no affection for anyone but Hari. Bringing detachment into the heart, one should renounce the comfort of both body and mind."
Having heard this counsel, all the women rejoiced greatly; this is indeed the true and correct teaching -- without understanding it thus, any other talk is worthless.
This is the way of the renunciant women, who have given up all worldly life; now I shall tell the way of the men, the generous householder Sankhya-yogis.
Thus, in the Bhaktachintamani composed by Nishkulanand Muni, disciple of Shri Sahajanand Swami, propagator of the glorious Ekantik Dharma, the chapter named "The Vows of the Sankhya-yogi Women," the one hundred and eleventh chapter, is concluded.