ARISE, MY COUNTRYMEN

Let not the vanities of the world cloud your vision. You are born to break free and reclaim the empire of the Self. You are that infinite Atman whose thunderous roar at a distance you hear as the cosmic cataclysm. But be not afraid. Death is but a delusion, life a bubble of no consequence save the occasion to assert your sovereignty over Nature. These weakening, paralysing vibrations that you are exposed to from childhood, this effeminate clinging to sensory impressions in the name of sentimental soft music and dance, art and poetry of a debilitated order, and a general lifestyle fraught with terrible weakness, do in no way conduce to the bringing forth of the manhood in you and leaves you with what Swamiji dubbed 'a jelly-fish existence' that reduces your race to one devoid of the slightest trace of the strong blood your ancestors had bequeathed unto you but which you chose not to be the worthy inheritors of. Arise, my countrymen, and shake off this paralysis and, like Lazarus, rise from the dead.