Hari-śauri: This is Freud's argument, that at a certain stage he can leave that care and venture out for himself.
Prabhupāda: He can leave the father's care, but how can he deny father?
Hayagrīva: He denies the father. He denies the God the father. He says that's a wish fantasy for . . .
Prabhupāda: Fantasy? Father is not fantasy. He is fact. You are grown up. You can leave the protection of the father. But how can you deny father? Then you are a rascal. It is not good to live independent of father. If the father is rich, opulent, very kind, very merciful, why shall I leave? A father is generally, even though he's personally a bad man, he's still, he's kind, merciful to the son. That he is, actually. A rogue, he loves—just like Ajāmila. He was a rogue, but he was taking care of the youngest child. This is nature. We study that even the father is a rogue, he's kind to his children. So practically he does all nonsense things, but giving protection to the family. So why should he give up the protection of father? When we say father, means all kindness, all mercifulness, all taking care is there. Immediately. In Bengali there is a word, puputra davitra hoy, kumāra. A son may be bad, but a mother is never bad. Son may be bad, mother and son . . . son may be bad, but the mother or father is never bad. The father may also be bad, but mother is never bad.
Hari-śauri: Cāṇakya Paṇḍita says when one instance, though . . .
Prabhupāda: No, no. There is exception in everything.
Hari-śauri: Oh.
Prabhupāda: But the thing is, father and mother is always kind. That is natural.