The Beloved Vol 1 05

Fifth Discourse from the series of 10 discourses - The Beloved Vol 1 by Osho.
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Come, if you wish to meet the novel man.
He has abandoned his worldly possessions
for the beggar’s sack that hangs from his shoulder.
He speaks of the eternal mother, Kali, the goddess of time
even as he enters the Ganges.
Simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief:
Kali and Krishna are one.
The words may differ, the meaning is precisely the same.
He who has broken the barrier of words,
has conquered limits:
Allah or Jesus, Moses or Kali,
the rich or the poor,
sage or fool,
all are one and the same to him.
Lost in his own thoughts, he seems insane to others.
He opens his arms to welcome the world,
calling all to the ferryboat tied to the coast of life.
Come if you wish to meet the novel man.
The whole Baul search is the search for the novel man, the new man. Who is this new man?
You can live your life in two ways. Either you can become a man of being or you can become a man of having. Either you can have yourself or you can have many worldly things instead. Either you can possess many things and be possessed by them, or you can possess yourself and be not possessed by anything.
The man of having has a totally different direction. That’s what Bauls call “the worldly man.” He thinks in terms of money, in terms of commodities, in terms of bank balances; he thinks in terms of things. And he thinks that the more he has, the more he is. That is one of the most fundamental fallacies.
You can have the whole world and you can remain a beggar. You can have all that the world can give and yet remain empty.

The great Alexander died. He is the very symbol of the worldly man. He wanted to conquer the whole world and he had done it, almost. But before he died, he told his generals, “Then let both my hands hang out of the coffin.”
They said, “We have never heard…it is not traditionally done. And why do you want to do such an absurd thing?”
Alexander said, “It is not absurd. It has a certain relevance with my life. I want people to see that I am going with empty hands. So let both my hands hang out of the coffin, so everybody can see that even Alexander is going with empty hands. I came with empty hands, I am going with empty hands, and the whole life has been a wastage.”

He must have been very perceptive, because many more die still clinging, still not aware that their hands are empty, still not aware that their hearts are empty, still not aware that they have wasted their whole lives, that it has been just a nightmare.
The man of having continues to accumulate more and more. What he accumulates is not the point; his emphasis is on accumulation. His soul exists in his accumulations.
What he accumulates is not important. He may accumulate money, he may accumulate knowledge, he may accumulate ego or he may accumulate humility. He may accumulate things of this world, or he may start accumulating virtues, things of the other world, but he accumulates. He exists through things.
He feels good when he has much, when he feels his hands are full, at least apparently full. He feels good, he feels he is achieving, he is being successful. This is “the old man” – in the terminology of the Bauls, this is the old man. It has always existed. This is the rotten man, this is the diseased man.
It is a sort of illness, this very idea of having too many things, wasting your time and energy and not knowing at all who you are. The Bauls call that direction noble in which you start thinking in terms of being, in terms of a certain inner solidity, of a certain inner consciousness, of a certain rootedness, centering, of a certain realization of who you are.
Have you watched it; that sometimes you come across a person who may not have anything visible, but still you feel a tremendous energy surrounding him? His impact is almost magnetic, mesmeric. He looks into your eyes and you cannot see into his eyes – a great power. It is not the power of things; he may not have any. He may be just a beggar on the road. It is not the power that comes through politics. He may not be a prime minister or a president because that power is bogus. That power belongs to the chair, not to the man. It belongs to the chair and not to the chairman. Once he is out of the chair, he is as powerless as you.
Look at Richard Nixon: a tremendous power was there when he was the president. Now, he is just simply Citizen Nixon. All power has disappeared. That power was not his; it was a reflected glory.
And you can see it, it is not very difficult. You know men who have much power – the power of things, the power of big palaces, the power of politics, money, prestige, heritage – but you can see that they are poor people. They don’t have any personal power. They don’t have any magnetism in their souls. If you put their things aside, they are more ordinary than ordinary. All extraordinariness disappears. Kings and queens, once they are not kings and queens, are simply ordinary human beings – almost empty, nothing in them.
But you sometimes come across a person whose power is not derived from the outside, whose power comes from some inner spring, some inner source. He is a reservoir of power. Wherever he sits, the place becomes sacred; wherever he sits, the place becomes a throne; wherever he moves, he moves like a king amongst men. But his kingdom is of the within.
That’s what Jesus goes on talking about: the kingdom of God is within you. He knows his within, he has come to face his own within-ness. His eyes are turned within. He is no longer dependent on the outside world. His glory is not a reflected glory, it is his own, authentic. He can be thrown into imprisonment, but there he will remain a king.

It is said about Diogenes, one of the contemporaries of Alexander the Great, that even Alexander the Great became jealous of Diogenes.
He was just a naked fakir: he had nothing. He had renounced everything; he was searching his own inner world. It is said about him that when he renounced the world, he used to carry a small begging-bowl. But then one day he saw a dog drinking water from a river. He threw away that begging-bowl. He said, “If the dog can do without it, then am I worse than the dog?” Then everything was thrown away. He remained naked.
Many stories, rumors, were coming to Alexander that this man had something in him. Finally, fascinated, Alexander came to see him and he could see that the man had something that he had not. He was just lying down – it was a winter morning, it was cool and the sun was rising. He was lying down by the side of a river, bathing himself in the early sun, naked. Alexander said, “Can I do something for you, sir? I have much, and whatsoever you desire, I will be happy to do it for you.”
Diogenes laughed and said, “The only thing that you can do is to please stand by the side. Don’t prevent the sun from coming to me. Nothing else do I need. And remember it, because you seem to be dangerous: never stand between the sun and anybody else. Don’t disturb anybody else’s life. That’s enough; nothing else do I want from you – because all that I want is within me.”
And Alexander could feel that the man was true, literally true – the solidity, the crystallized being, the “vibe” of one who has attained, the surround, the climate of the person who is filled with inner light, inner realization, inner riches. He could see it. He bowed down and he said, “If next time I am to come into the world, I would ask God not to make me Alexander, but Diogenes.”
Diogenes laughed and said, “There is no need to wait that long. You can become a Diogenes just now! What are you struggling and conquering people and moving continuously and warring for? For what?”
Said Alexander, “First I want to conquer Middle Asia, then India, then the Far East….”
And Diogenes went on asking, “Then what? Then what?”
Finally, when Alexander said he had conquered the whole world, he said he would then like to rest.
And Diogenes said, “To me you look almost stupid, because I am resting without conquering the world. You can rest by my side. See, the bank is so big; we can share it. And nobody comes here. You can rest to your heart’s desire. Who is preventing you? And I don’t see the point – that one needs to conquer the world first just to rest in the end. You can rest any moment.”
In that moment Alexander must have felt his poverty. He said, “You are right. I am mad, but now it is difficult for me to come back. I have to conquer, only then can I come.”
And when he was leaving, Diogenes said, “Remember, nobody can come back unless he is aware. And if you are aware right this moment, the journey stops. If you are not aware, you will never come back.” And Alexander never could come back. He died before he reached back home.

The man of being is called “the novel man,” the new man. Why call him new? – because in a sense he is as old as humanity. But he is so rare that whenever he comes he is always new – there is rarely a Buddha, rarely a Jesus, a Krishna – very rarely. In this rotten mass of humanity, very rarely does somebody arise with an authentic being and declare that his kingdom is of the within. It happens so rarely that Bauls are right to call him “the novel man,” the new man.
So this is the distinction to be understood: the man who is after having more and more will go on losing his being – because the only way to have more is to pay with being. Then you have to cut your being and throw it away. Everything has to be paid for, nothing is free. Even futile things have to be paid for.
One day the man of having is almost gone. He has much but he is no more. He has bargained with his soul. He has exchanged: he has dollars, rupees, pounds, but no soul in him. Just a negative emptiness exists. He is the beggar, but he may look to you like a king. Don’t be deceived by the appearances. Those who look like kings are not kings. Look deeply, watch deeply. They may have achieved much which can be counted, which can be shown and exhibited, but they have lost something of the invisible, something of their being.
Have you not observed it? – whenever you purchase something you have to pay. If you want to compete with people you will have to pay. You will become less and less loving. A man who is a competitor cannot be loving simultaneously – it is impossible. A man who is trying to compete, a man who is ambitious, has to be non-loving. Then he is paying with love.
Politicians cannot be loving, they know only war. That’s natural; they exist through conflict. So they may talk about peace, but their whole talk is just nonsense, just gibberish. They talk about peace and they prepare for war. They never prepare for peace. They prepare for war and they never talk about war, they talk about peace. And when the time comes, they even go to war and fight for peace! They say it has to be done to save peace. But basically, the mind of the competitor is violent. One who is ambitious is violent and cannot be loving.
The hippie slogan “Make love not war” is very, very meaningful. If the world were more loving, war would disappear automatically because who would be ready to fight? For what?
No country wants its people to be very loving. No country wants its people to be deep in love – because if they are deep in love they become incapable of war. Their sex, their love, has to be repressed. When love and sex are repressed, people are ready to jump out of their skins. They are so boiling, they are always ready to fight. That’s why a poor country can fight better than a rich country. That is the story of Vietnam.
The American soldier knows a little of love – he has the facility, he is not so repressed. That is the problem with America now: America is not so repressed. It has tasted of love. But when you fight with a small country like Vietnam you cannot win, because their soldiers are very repressed. It has always happened in the past: a richer country is always in danger of being invaded by a poorer country.
It has happened in India many times. For two, three thousand years, India had been continually conquered by barbarians who were not rich, who were not affluent, who were not cultured at all. But India was defeated continually. People were loving – they had forgotten how to fight, they were not interested in fighting. There was no need inside for them to be continually at war. Whenever a civilization reaches to the point where it becomes affluent, it is in danger of being invaded by barbarians. This is unfortunate, but this is so.
So every country and every politician tries not to allow love too much. It has to be given only in small quantities. If love is free, and people are very loving and they exist in an ocean of love, war is not possible. Without war, politics is not possible; without politics, presidents and premiers are not possible. They will simply disappear.
The hippie is the greatest danger signal yet to politicians. In the whole of history, for the first time a new sort of generation is arising. If this generation goes on flowering, spreading, politics is going to be just out of date. The days of presidents and premiers are gone! And the whole thing depends on love, because love is a quality of being. Competition is for things, ambition is for things, ambition is for the kingdom without. The inner kingdom knows no competition. You can simply delight in it this very moment. It needs no future, it needs no achievement on your part. Already, as you are, you are ready to enjoy and delight and celebrate. Nothing is missing. Everything is absolutely available; as it should be, it is. You just have to drop your ambitious mind and the celebration starts. Can you see this? If you can see this you will be able to understand the novel man.
The Bauls say, “The man who has understood the futility of things becomes religious.” If you are running after having, you will become a manipulator: constantly in conflict with others, constantly trying to crush others by any way and any means, trying to reach to the top. You will lose all spontaneity.
The man of being, the novel man, is spontaneous. He lives in the moment, he lives herenow. He knows no other way to live, he is unpredictable. You can predict a man of competition. You can predict because the mind of the competitor runs like a mathematical formula. It has a logical syllogism in it. But the mind of one who is moving inwards, the man of being, is almost dissolving. The mind of the inward traveler is dissolving, you cannot predict him. He has no mathematical formula about him – he simply lives in the moment, he responds to the moment.
Now let me tell you one thing: the man of having is very clear. The man of having has a destination, very clear-cut. If he wants to become the president of the United States or the premier of India, he has a clear-cut destination.
What about the man of being? – he has a direction, but he has no destination. He has a very subtle direction, but no destination. He has a quality: he has a light inside, and wherever he moves that light falls on his path. He has eyes to see, a direction, but no destination. He is enjoying and he is moving but his movement is not prefabricated. He has no plan. He is like a river, not like a railway train. There is direction, but not like a railway train, not running in a fixed pattern. His life will be zigzag. Sometimes he will be moving towards the north and sometimes he will be moving towards the south. He cannot be very consistent because consistency is part of the logical mind, it is not part of the being. He will be found many times to be inconsistent, even contradictory; but those contradictions are just on the surface. If you look deep you will find a subtle direction. Even in contradictions the direction is there.
But to know the man of being you need very deep eyes, penetrating eyes. To know the man of having, nothing is needed – just a little mind will do, a mediocre mind will do – because the man of having is also of the category of mediocre minds. But when you move into the inner world, all surfaces are lost and the depth is infinite.
The Bauls call this spontaneous man, sahaj manush – the novel man – he’s the new man. He is the man as everyone should be. And unless you become the novel man, you will miss – you will miss treasures, blessings, benedictions which were showering all around you, but you were blind and you could not see it.
I have heard:

Mulla Nasruddin was in love with a woman.
“Look darling,” he said to her, “here is a diamond engagement ring for you.”
“Oh, it is beautiful!” she claimed. “But honey, the diamond has a flaw in it.”
“You should not notice that,” said the Mulla. “Why, you are in love and you know what they say – ‘love is blind.’”
“Blind, yes,” she said, “but not stone blind.”

Even in love you continue to remain the man of the outside. Even in love you continue to think in terms of money, prestige, power. Even in love you don’t allow the unpredictable to assert, you don’t allow your innermost being to have its say. Even then you remain a manipulator.
Our minds are almost always interested in the very ordinary. It has to be so, because mind is outward oriented. The very orientation is towards the without. That’s how Jesus was not understood; he was a Baul, the novel man. If he had been born in Bengal, the land of the Bauls, he would have been understood better. They would not have crucified him. For centuries they have known mad people of God. They would have understood his language.
Jews could not understand his language. His language was not of the mind, his language was not of money, of the outside. He talked about the kingdom and they asked, “Where is your kingdom? What kingdom are you talking about?” – because they thought he was talking about the kingdom which is outside.
He said, “I am the king,” and they were worried. And they suspected that he was trying to sabotage the society, or that he was trying to conquer the society and become the king. They thought that he was a revolutionary. He was a rebellious man, not a revolutionary at all. He was not planning for a revolution, he was not a politician.
But the Jews were afraid: they thought that he was trying to conquer this world. And the Romans were afraid. They were afraid because it was thought that he was the king of men – the king is born. When the king of the Romans heard that a child was going to be born who would become the king of men, he became so afraid that he ordered a massacre: to kill all the children below the age of two years. When the three wise men of the East reached the capital in search of the child Jesus, the king heard of it. He invited them to the palace, and he asked them what they had come for. They said they were looking for the king who had been born in his country: “You should be happy that a king is born in your country, and the greatest king will walk on your earth.”
But the king was very afraid because he thought, “How can there exist two kings in one country? – then I will be dethroned.” But he played the diplomat. He said to the wise men, “I am very happy, so if you succeed in finding him please come and inform me.”
But he was planning to kill the boy, and the three wise men understood it because they could see in his eyes. He was a cunning man. Politicians are cunning.
After they had met Jesus and worshipped Jesus, they had to find another route because they were afraid that the king would be waiting, and they didn’t want to become a part of this catastrophe. They didn’t want to become a part of killing and murdering Jesus.
So they had to travel very far. They had to go on a long journey because the shortcut was the one they had come by. And they were very old men, but still they took a very long route through deserts and mountains to reach back to their country. They didn’t want to go back by the same route because it would pass through the capital, and the king would be waiting.
Jesus was crucified because of his terminology, but he was talking about the inner kingdom. He was not talking about the kingdom of the outside, and he was not talking about the treasures that you know, but the treasures of the unknown.
As far as the outside world is concerned, all treasures are just false.
I have heard a beautiful anecdote:

A man walking along a city street fell through an open sewer hole and broke his leg. He engaged a famous attorney, brought suit against the city for ten thousand dollars, and won the case. The city appealed the decision right up to the Supreme Court, but again the lawyer won the decision. After the claim was settled, the lawyer sent for his client and handed him a dollar bill.
“What is this?” inquired the man, looking at the dollar.
“That’s your damages after deducting my fee, the cost of appeals and other expenses,” replied the attorney.
Out of ten thousand dollars, only one dollar!
The man looked at the dollar again, turned it over and scanned it carefully. “What is the matter with this dollar?” he said. “Is it counterfeit?”

But all money outside is counterfeit: all dollars are counterfeit, all rupees are counterfeit. The real money does not exist that way; the real money does not exist outside. This conversion from the counterfeit to the real is what Bauls call the birth of the novel man.
Come if you wish to meet the novel man.
He has abandoned his worldly possessions
for the beggar’s sack that hangs from his shoulders.
He has abandoned worldly possessions to become a beggar. Why abandon worldly possessions? The worldly possessions can be abandoned in two ways. Again you have to understand: the man who has lived his whole life collecting possessions can abandon them out of greed. Then the novel man is not born. He can abandon them in order to get some advance booking in heaven, paradise. He can abandon his worldly possessions seeing that death will take them away. If that is the case, then the old man remains old, even if he abandons all.
In India it happens many times, more often than not: people abandon their possessions, they renounce, but if you watch them you will see they have not abandoned their greed. In fact, they have renounced because of their greed.
I know one man who renounced almost a million rupees many years ago, but he still goes on talking about it. Thirty years have passed and whenever I meet him, he will bring up the subject again and again – that he has renounced a million rupees. And you can see the light that starts shining in his eyes – a million rupees!
The last time I saw him I asked him, “If you have really renounced, then why talk about it? What is the point? As far as I can see, you have not renounced at all. The novel man is not born. You are as much attached to those one million rupees, or maybe even more than you were before. Now the very idea that ‘I have renounced a million rupees’ has become your bank balance. Now you are living on it.’’ I told him that if he went to God, the first thing he would relate to him would be his million rupees, “…Do you know that I have renounced one million rupees?” and he will be expecting something special for himself. This man is the same; the novel man is not born. It has been a miscarriage.
You can renounce, but if you enjoy the ego through it, if you feel that you are a great man of renunciation, a mahatma, a great soul because you have renounced; you are not an ordinary man, you are not worldly – then your renunciation is not true.
When is the renunciation true? – when you understand the futility. Not out of greed, not because you have to earn something in the other world, but just seeing the futility of it all, you renounce. This renunciation has no effort in it, just a deep insight. Every morning you clean your house and throw the rubbish on the rubbish heap, but you don’t go declaring and advertising to the whole town that again you have renounced much rubbish, again this morning you have done a great deed of renunciation. No, you know that it is rubbish – finished. What is there to tell about it?
The novel man is born when you have a deep insight that worldly things have no value; they are all counterfeit. Unreal diamonds or unreal real diamonds are also so. Real dollars are also as unreal as unreal dollars. When the whole outside world has no value for you – that is a real renunciation. Then you are not attached at all.
And Bauls say,
My plaited hair is still intact and dry.
Though I stand in the stream
and splash and swim about the river,
I cannot be touched by the water.
Keep your soles dry as you coast the sea.
Let attachments share the same home,
but live unattached.
Groping for the river,
O my senseless heart!
In vain do you wander from place to place.
The ocean of your heart bears a priceless gem.
What good is life if you fail to contact
the spontaneous man who dwells in your own body?
Your destiny is shamed.
Do not give up gold for a piece of glass,
nor leave heaven for a visit to hell.
What good is there in rushing round the world?
The eternal hero lives in your own little room.
Who is there for you to call your own, my heart?
For whom do you shed your futile tears?
Brothers and friends – let them be;
the world is there.
Your own dear life is hardly your own.
You have come alone,
you will go alone.
The whole idea of renunciation is of a vision, of a great understanding, of looking into things in their reality. You need not escape from the world. You can remain in the world and become absolutely unattached. But if you feel, “Why carry the burden unnecessarily?” you can also leave the world. But remember, the world has no value this way or that. If it has no value, its renunciation also cannot have any value. If it is valuable, only then can its renunciation be valuable. But then there is no point in renouncing it; it is simply valueless. It is like a dream. When you awake, everything disappears.
You have come alone, you will go alone, and between these two exists the dream. To understand the dream, to become alert to it, is the birth of the novel man. “Come, if you wish to meet the novel man,” says the Baul. He invites the whole world: Come to see me; the novel man is born. “He has abandoned his worldly possessions for the beggar’s sack that hangs from his shoulder.”
He speaks of the eternal mother, Kali, the goddess of time
even as he enters the Ganges.
The novel man lives in eternity, the ordinary man lives in time.
This word Kali has to be understood. Kali is the mother of time. In Sanskrit time is called kala, and the mother of kala is Kali, mother of time. But the mother of time is beyond time. Time is born out of it, but the womb out of which time is born is eternity. Eternity is the mother of time. Time is just a reflection of the eternal. The Bauls worship Kali, the mother of time; they worship eternity. They seek and search eternity – not that which changes but that which remains always and always, that which is beyond all flux, absolutely permanent, unmoving. They seek that hub of existence. Symbolically it is called Kali.
This word kala is very meaningful: one meaning is time, another meaning is death. The same word means time and the same word means death. It is beautiful because time is death. The moment you enter into time you are ready to die. With birth, death has entered into you. When the child is born, he has entered into the realm of death. The birthday is also the deathday. Now only one thing is certain: that he will have to die. Everything else is just uncertain; it may happen, it may not happen. But the moment a child is born, the moment the child has taken his first breath, one thing is absolutely certain – that he will die.
Entering into life is entering into death; entering into time is entering into death. Time is death, hence the Sanskrit word kala is very beautiful. It means both time and death. And Kali means beyond time and beyond death. Eternity is deathlessness. How to find eternity? What is the way? One has to understand the process of time.
The process of time is horizontal: one moment passes, then comes another moment. That passes, then another moment – a procession of moments, a queue of moments – one passes, then another comes; another passes, then another comes. It is horizontal.
Eternity is vertical: you go deep into the moment, not moving in a line but into depth. You drown yourself in the moment. If you stand on the bank, then the river goes on passing. Ordinarily we are standing on the bank of time. The river goes on moving; one moment, another moment, and another, and the sequence of moments continues. This is how we ordinarily live, this is how we live in time.
Then there is another way – take a jump into the river, drown in the moment, the herenow. Then suddenly, time stops. Then you are moving in an altogether different dimension; the vertical dimension is eternity. That is the meaning of Jesus’ cross.
The cross is a time symbol. It is made of two lines: one vertical, one horizontal. On the horizontal line are the hands of Christ and on the vertical line is his whole being. Hands are symbolic of action: doing, having. Having is in time – being is in eternity. So whatsoever you do is in time, whatsoever you are is in eternity; whatsoever you achieve is in time, whatsoever is your nature is in eternity. Change from having, doing, towards being. This moment, the turning can happen. This very moment, if you forget past and future, then time stops. Then nothing moves, then everything is absolutely silent and you start drowning in the herenow. That “now” is eternity.
Kali is a symbol of now, of the eternal, of the absolutely real. To live moment to moment and not to bother about past and future is the way towards becoming the novel man.
Simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief:
Kali and Krishna are one.
The words may differ, the meaning is precisely the same.
He who has broken the barrier of words
has conquered limits:
Allah or Jesus, Moses or Kali,
the rich or the poor,
sage or fool,
all are one and the same to him.
Very significant sentences: “Simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief.” If you can listen, then very simple words are enough. If you are capable of being receptive, just simple words uttered by one who knows are enough. But if you don’t understand, then things become very complex. Your non-understanding or non-receptivity makes things complex. It creates confusion, it puzzles you, it creates a chaos in your being. If you can listen silently without your mind interfering, then simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief.
The Bauls say,
Even if you forbid, dear friend,
I am helpless.
My songs contain my prayers.
Some flowers pray
through the glamor of colors,
and others, being dark, with fragrance.
As the veena prays
with its vibrating strings,
do I with my songs.
Bauls don’t know much philosophy; they are not philosophers. They are simple people of the earth. They are very simple people who can sing and dance. Their words are simple. If you love, if you trust, their small gestures can reveal much.
And it is always a question of love and trust.
It is not a question of great metaphysical skill, because the more metaphysics you know, the more you will be puzzled. And the more you are acquainted with philosophy, the less is the possibility to come to an understanding. The more you are full of knowledge, the less will be your understanding. You will be too clouded, and too many thoughts will not allow you vision or clarity. Your mirror will be full of dust.
Simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief:
Kali and Krishna are one.
Bauls say, “We don’t make any distinction between a Hindu and a Mohammedan and a Christian…Kali and Krishna are one.” They say, “We don’t even make any distinction between male and female – Kali and Krishna are one, male and female are one.”
That is one of their great insights: that if you really dance and sing in deep trust and love, you will come to feel that man and woman are not two things, are not two beings. Inside you, a new alchemy starts, and your inside man melts with the inside woman…and Kali and Krishna become one.
They sing:
As the man and the woman in me
unite in love,
the brilliance of beauty,
balanced on the bi-petalled lotus
blooms in me,
dazzles my eyes.
The rays outshine the moon,
and the jewels
glowing on the hoods of snakes.
My skin and bone are turned to gold
when the inner man and woman meet,
when Krishna and Kali become one.
My skin and bone are turned to gold,
I am the reservoir of love,
alive as the waves.
A single drop of water
has grown into a sea,
The whole problem of man is how to meet with woman, and the whole problem of woman is how to meet with man.
In one ancient myth prevalent in many countries of the Far East, they say God created man and woman together, not as two beings – they were joined in one body. But then it became difficult. There were conflicts and problems. The woman wanted to go to the east and the man was not willing. Or the man was ready to do something and the woman wanted to rest. But they were together, their bodies were joined. So they complained and God cut their bodies separate.
Since then, every man is searching for the woman, his woman, and every woman is searching for her man. Now it is such a big crowd that it is very difficult to find who is your woman, who is your man. So much misery, and one goes on stumbling and groping in the dark. It is almost impossible to find your woman. How will you find her?
The myth says that if you can find her everything fits – you again become one. But it is very difficult to find.
But there is a way to find your woman, because the woman is not outside. Outside, at the most, are parallel similarities.
When you fall in love with a woman, what really happens? This is what happens: somehow the outside woman fulfills your inner woman’s image, fits with that image – maybe not a hundred percent, but enough to fall in love. When you fall in love with a man, what happens? Something inside you clicks and says, “Yes, this is the man, the right man.” It is not a logical conclusion, it is not a syllogism. It is not that you find out all the pros and cons about the man and then you decide, or you compare the man with all the other men in the world, then you decide. No, something happens out of the blue. Suddenly you see that this is the man for whom you were waiting, for whom you were waiting for lives.
What happens? You carry an image of man, you carry an image of woman inside. You are both, and you go on looking outside. Nobody is going to fit one hundred percent, because the woman that you find outside has her own images about you; you have your own images. It is very difficult to fit with each other. So all marriages are always on the rocks, and people, by and by, learn how to carry on peacefully. They learn not to rock the boat. But nothing more can happen outside.
Bauls say, “Deep inside you, both exist – Krishna and Kali. Let them meet there.” That is the whole Tantra method: how to allow your inner man to meet with the inner woman. And when this becomes a circle, when this meeting, when this inner copulation happens, a great orgasm, a great explosive orgasm begins which knows a beginning but knows no end.
Then you live an orgasmic life:
A single drop of water
has grown into a sea,
Then you are no longer finite, you become infinite.
Simple words can overcome ignorance and disbelief:
Kali and Krishna are one.
The words may differ, the meaning is precisely the same.
He who has broken the barrier of words,
has conquered limits…
Break the barrier of words. Now I am talking to you. I am using words. You can listen to my words – then you have not listened to me. You can listen in such a way that the words are no longer a barrier, but become vehicles. They no longer create problems, but you listen exactly between the words, between two words, in the gaps. You listen to my silence. Then words and their barriers are broken, then limits are conquered.
…Allah or Jesus, Moses or Kali,
the rich or the poor,
sage or fool,
all are one and the same to him.
This is the novel man.
Now he knows no duality. He does not make any distinction between the sage and the fool. He makes no distinction between the man and the woman. All dualities have come to be united, all dualities have dissolved. Once you drop the words, dualities drop.
Language creates duality, language exists through duality. It cannot indicate the non-dual. If I say day, immediately I create night. If I say life, immediately I create death. If I say good, immediately bad is created. If I say no, just by the side of the no, yes is existing. Language can exist only through the opposite.
That’s why we see life as always divided – God and Devil. Drop language, drop this linguistic pattern. Once language is no longer on your mind and you look directly into reality, day is night. Suddenly you will start laughing at why you missed it for so long! Day – every day turns into night; night turns into day again every morning, and you have been missing. Life is always turning into death, death always turns again into life, and you have been missing. They are not two, they are one whole. This is the non-dual, advait. This is the most essential religion.
Lost in his own thoughts, he seems insane to others.
Because his consciousness is no longer divided by language, he is no longer looking at the world through words. He looks insane: he is absorbed in his own being, he is lost in his own vision. And the vision is so vast, as if a thousand and one suns have risen together. It is so dazzling.
Lost in his own thoughts, he seems insane to others.
He opens his arms to welcome the world,
calling all to the ferryboat tied to the coast of life.
And he goes on calling, “Come to me, come, if you wish to meet the novel man,” and the boat is ready. And his boat is not against life, it is tied to the coast of the life. He is not negative. And he says, “Come, and I can take you to the other shore. Come, and I can make you new. Come, and I can take you into eternity.”
Enough for today.

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