In an allegorical story, it is said that once Lord Indra, became a pig in his dream and he miserably suffered from itch and other troublesome diseases. Other gods were deeply concerned at this condition of their king. They entered his dreaming state and reminded him, "How is it Sir! Have you forgotten the nymphs of the heaven? Do not you remember the taste of nectar? Have you no idea of your own golden throne studded with precious stones?" But Indra in his piggish tone said, 'No, no, no. Your nymphs, nectar and golden throne are no match to my she-pig, excreta and cushion like mud in the ditch. I enjoy greater pleasure in rolling in this mud than in sleeping in the bed of roses.
You might be laughing at the foolish reply of Indra. But please reflect what are you at present? Are you any better than Indra in his dream? You, also in this worldly dream, are taking death as a physician and the disease as its remedy, i. e., you take everything in a perverted way. Is it the correct state of affairs? No, never. You will continue to suffer, unless you know your Self. You are the Lord Indra of Indras.
You might be laughing at the foolish reply of Indra. But please reflect what are you at present? Are you any better than Indra in his dream? You, also in this worldly dream, are taking death as a physician and the disease as its remedy, i. e., you take everything in a perverted way. Is it the correct state of affairs? No, never. You will continue to suffer, unless you know your Self. You are the Lord Indra of Indras.
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