My silence and seclusion have been filled with my cries to God: “O thou of the ancient days! Who will lead again India, our ancient mother, to the promised land?”
And then, in holy darkness before the dawn, methinks, I have heard an invisible bell ring and sing to me a mighty hope, a mighty faith: “Let not thy heart be sad! The nation’s youth yet will build, rebuild, India into a nation of the strong, a nation of the free!
The young have been the saviours of societies and nations.
Buddha and Shankara: each was a young man when he started on his world-mission. Each awakened India to a new life.
Sons are ye of the eternal!
Young men have said to me: “We have no money: we are not known: we are weak. what can we do?” And I say to them: you have no money; yes! You are not known; yes! But say not you are weak.
A mote may well say: “The mighty sun is mine!” a note of song may well declare: “The blessed song of the lord is mine!” a spark may well exclaim: “The flame is mine!”
In you young men! Are locked up hidden forces! In you slumbers a great shakti! Release it, set free the hidden forces: and India will thrill from one end to the other.
Sons of the flame are ye! Awaken the hidden fire and fill the waiting world with a new glow. Be creative!