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At a certain age, the navel sack of the deer bursts and exudes a fragrant musk substance. Frantically seeking the origin of the perfume, the deer sniffs wildly in every direction.

Not finding any external source of fragrance, the creature destroys itself by mad dashes among the rocks. Alas!

If the deer had only put its nostrils to its naval! The sense addict (person addicted to material pleasures), similarly, seeking the fragrance of bliss in every place except the soul (in goodness/truth/happiness within), perishes in trying to find pleasure. Had he concentrated his attention within, he would have discovered the longed-for happiness. His mistaken habit is to feed the senses in the hope of satisfying the inner hunger for happiness.

Gita: verse 40


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