The Dhammapada Vol 10 11

Eleventh Discourse from the series of 13 discourses - The Dhammapada Vol 10 by Osho.
You can listen, download or read all of these discourses on oshoworld.com.

The first question:
Why are you continuously misunderstood and misinterpreted by people?
It is absolutely inevitable, it is unavoidable. It has to be so; it is part of the destiny of those who speak the truth. They are bound to be misunderstood, misinterpreted. If they were not misunderstood, not misinterpreted, that would be a miracle. It has not happened up to now and there is no hope that it is ever going to happen.
Buddhas have always been misunderstood for the simple reason that they speak from a totally different vision which is not available to the masses. They speak from a totally different experience. Their experience is such that it cannot be expressed through words, yet they try to express it through words, they try to do the impossible. Saying it through words creates trouble. They use words in their own way, they give the words their own color, but when those words reach you they have lost all the meaning that was given by the awakened ones. Immediately you interpret them, you translate them into your experience.
Buddhas speak from sunlit peaks and you live in dark valleys. They talk about light and you have never seen light. They talk about eyes and you have not even dreamed about eyes. They talk about eternity and all that you know is time; all that you know is temporary and they talk of that which never changes, which is always the same, which abides. The gap is unbridgeable. Unless you also become conscious it remains unbridgeable.
Hence only a few disciples, slowly, slowly attain to the meaning of the masters. Very slowly a few people become awakened, they come out of their sleep. It is arduous, too, because all that you know about your life is your sleep and your dreams. Leaving your dreams and your life behind is hard. It is demolishing your whole past. It is entering into an unknown territory without a map. One feels scared.
Only disciples can understand; the masses cannot understand. The masses have every investment in not understanding. Even if there is some possibility of understanding they will avoid that possibility. They will not come close to the buddhas; they will try in every possible way to create more and more barriers. They will create rumors, all kinds of rumors. They will surround the buddhas with so much smoke of their own creation that the buddhas become almost invisible to them. They don’t want to listen, it hurts. Their whole life is rooted in lies and the truth hurts, it shatters.
And the masses are vast, the blind people are millions. The people with eyes are rare, few and far between. Only once in a while comes a Zarathustra, a Lao Tzu, a Jesus, a Moses, a Buddha. They are doing something unimaginable. They are trying to explain light to the millions who are blind. The blind people can hear the word light, but they cannot understand it, or they will understand it in their own way, whatsoever is their idea, opinion about light. They are not only blind; they have thousands of opinions. They have much knowledge, but they know nothing at all. They are full of scriptures, they hide their blindness behind scriptures. They can quote scriptures, they can argue, they are clever and skillful in argument.
In fact, truth cannot be argued about. Either you know it or you don’t. Truth cannot be proved either; either you know it or you don’t. Knowing is all that is possible, or not-knowing; there is no way to prove it.
Once it happened:

A blind man was brought to Gautama the Buddha. He was a logician, a philosopher, very argumentative. He had been arguing with the village, “There is no light, and you are all blind, just as I am blind. I know it and you don’t know it, that’s the only difference.” He was saying this to people who had eyes! And he was so clever in argument that the villagers were at a loss what to do with this man.
He was asking them, “Bring your light. Let me taste it or smell it or touch it. Only then will I believe.”
Now, light cannot be touched, cannot be tasted, cannot be smelled. You cannot hear it. And these were the four senses available to the blind man. Then he would laugh in victory. He would say, “Look! There is no light. Otherwise, give me the proof!”
When Buddha came to the village, the villagers thought it would be good: “Let us take this man to Buddha.”
They brought the man to Buddha. Buddha listened to the whole story and then he said, “He does not need me. I also work with blind people, but of a different kind – spiritually blind people. I heal them, I cure them. But this is physical blindness. Take him to a physician. Take him to my personal physician.”
He had a personal physician a king had given him. The greatest physician of those days, Jivaka, was given to Buddha as a gift to take care of his body. “Take him to Jivaka, and I am certain that he will be able to do something. He needs a physician; he does not need great philosophy about light. Talking about light is just stupid. And if you argue with him, he is going to win. He can prove that there is no light.”
Remember, to prove that there is no God is very easy; to prove that there is God is impossible. To prove the negative is easy because all logic tends to be negative. To prove the positive is not possible; logic has no opening toward the positive. Hence the atheist is more argumentative and the theist feels almost defeated. He cannot prove the existence of God or the soul.
Buddha said, “Take him to Jivaka.” Jivaka cured his eyes. Within six months the man was able to see. He came dancing with many flowers and fruits as a present to Buddha. He fell at his feet and he said, “If you had not been there I would have argued my whole life against light, and light is! Now I know!”
Buddha said, “Can you prove it? Where is light? I would like to taste it and touch it and smell it!”
And the blind man – the ex-blind man – answered, “That is impossible. Now I know it can only be seen; there is no other way to approach it. Excuse me, I am sorry. I was blind, utterly blind, and in my blindness I was arguing against something which exists and is the most beautiful experience of life. If you were not there I would have argued my whole life against something which is, and I would have remained a blind man. You did well that you did not say a single word about light; otherwise, I had come prepared, fully prepared to argue with you, and I know now, even you would not have been able to prove it. But your insight is deep: you could see that I didn’t need any proof, I needed medicine. I didn’t need philosophy, I needed a physician. You directed me to the right person. I am immensely grateful.”
The man never left Buddha. He said, “What you have done to my physical eyes, now do to my spiritual eyes too.”
He became a disciple, he became a sannyasin.

To be a disciple means to be ready to be operated on. It is a surgery, a very internal surgery: surgery in the very deepest core of your being. Only then can you understand what I am saying to you.
But the masses are not ready. And don’t be worried about them. That is none of our business. If they misunderstand, for us it does not matter. If they misunderstand, they miss something. If they misinterpret, it is their loss. Try to help them to come closer to me, but don’t argue with them.
I am a physician, I am not a philosopher. My work here is that of a surgeon, not that of a teacher. The master is always a surgeon. He cuts away all that is false in you, chunk by chunk. Slowly, slowly he demolishes the whole edifice of your falsehood. Then what is left behind is your truth, is your being. When you have experienced it, only then will you be able to understand what is being conveyed to you through words, through silence, through communion.
I am trying in every possible way to reach you, but I can reach you only if you are open to me. I cannot reach to the masses; that is not possible in the very nature of things.

The second question:
How can I become the new man that you speak about?
Jesus says: “Unless you are born again you will not enter into my kingdom of God.” Exactly that’s what I say to you: unless you are born again…
There are two births. One is given to you by your parents; that is a physical birth. That is only an opportunity for the second birth. If you think that the first birth is all, you have missed the whole point. The first birth is only a seed. It is of immense value if the second happens; it is of no value at all if you miss the second birth. You have to be twice-born. That’s how we have defined the buddhas in the East.
The second birth has to happen within you; it is of consciousness. It is not of your body, it is not even of your mind; it is of awareness.
Ordinarily, the first birth makes you only a machine. You start living in a very superficial way; you don’t have any depth, you don’t have any soul yet. You eat, you drink, you work, you sleep, but all like a robot. You don’t see the beauty of existence, you can’t see it. You don’t see the godliness of every moment; it is impossible for you to experience it. It needs a transformation of your whole interiority. It needs a new subjectivity, a new vision, a new perspective.
You see in a certain sense, you hear only in a certain sense. Yes, you hear the words, but the meaning is missed. You read the Bible, the Koran, the Vedas, but just like a parrot. Even parrots are far more intelligent than your so-called pundits, than your so-called knowledgeable people. You go on repeating like a gramophone record. And you are so egoistic that you can’t accept, you can’t say, “I don’t know.”

Jascha Heifetz, the distinguished violinist, was in London where he was scheduled to give a concert. A few hours before curtain time, he noticed that a violin string had broken, so he hurried to a music supply shop for a replacement. He was waited on by a girl who was new to the business.
“I would like to have an E string for my violin,” said Heifetz.
“A what?” asked the uncomprehending girl.
“An E string.”
“Sorry, luv,” she replied apologetically, “but ye will have to pick it out yourself. I can’t tell the he’s from the she’s!”

People are very reluctant to accept the fact that they don’t know. They try in every possible way to manage a facade that they know. This is the greatest mistake in life. You are not yet born, but if you think you are already born, if you think you have already attained to life, then this whole opportunity is going to be lost. It will go down the drain.
You can learn great words; they are available. You can learn them so much that if you meet Jesus you may repeat his words better than he can do it himself, because you have been repeating them for so long. You may defeat him; in a competition he may not be able to survive at all. Some stupid priest may win the competition because he will be just repeating exactly, word for word. Jesus cannot do that; it is impossible. He has to be spontaneous. He will respond to the situation. He may say some new things because twenty centuries have passed. How can he go on saying the same old things? Impossible.
That’s why the people who believe that they know are the most ignorant in the world. To be ignorant is not that bad, but to believe that you know, without knowing, is very dangerous.

It seems that talking parrots had become quite fashionable. Understandably, Mulla Nasruddin’s wife decided she must have one for herself. However, every store she went to had sold out of parrots. Finally she found a shop that had one left.
“But,” the owner cautioned, “this bird was previously owned by a madam in a whorehouse and its language may be quite salty. Perhaps if you keep him covered for a week, he will forget what he has seen and heard.”
Mrs. Nasruddin purchased the bird and did as the shopkeeper bid. At long last the week was over and the bird was finally uncovered. He first blinked his eyes and then after adjusting to the light looked around and said, “Hmm… Pretty new house. Hmm… Pretty new madam. Hmm… Pretty new girls too.”
Just then Mulla Nasruddin walked in. The bird took one look at him and said, “Ah, shit! Same old customers. Hi, Mulla!”

Yes, even parrots are more spontaneous than your pundits. You go on repeating. Your parents believed that they lived and their parents believed that they lived, and they have given you the idea that you are alive. You are not alive, you are only vegetating. To be alive means to be awakened.
When I say the new man, I mean the conscious man. Humanity cannot be saved if the conscious man does not arrive. In the past it was not so necessary, but now it is absolutely necessary, it is a must. If the new man does not arrive on the earth, if more and more people are not going to become conscious, alert, awake, then this earth is doomed. Its fate is in the hand of the stupid politicians, and now they have immense power of destruction, such as they never had before. That is something new.
Just five years ago they had so much power that they could have killed every single human being seven times, although you don’t need to kill any human being seven times, once is enough. Five years ago we had so much atomic energy – atom bombs, hydrogen bombs – that we could have destroyed this earth seven times. And within five years we have really progressed – now it is seven hundred times! We can destroy seven hundred earths like this earth, and we go on piling up those weapons. And any moment, any mad politician can trigger the process of self-destruction.
The coming twenty years are going to be the most dangerous in the whole history of humanity; it has never been so dangerous, we are sitting on a volcano. Only more consciousness, more alertness can save it; there is no other way. We have to de-automatize man. The society automatizes you. It creates efficient machines, not human beings.
My effort here is to de-automatize you. I am doing something absolutely antisocial. The society makes you a machine and my effort is to undo it. I would like this fire to spread and reach to all the nooks and corners of the earth, to help as many people as possible to be conscious. If consciousness grows in a great quantity on the earth, there is a possibility, a hope, we can save humanity yet. All is not lost, but time is running short. Everything is being controlled by politicians and by computers, and both are dangerous. Politicians are mad. It is impossible to be a politician if you are not mad enough. You have to be absolutely insane, because only insane people are power-obsessed.
A sane person lives life joyously; he is not power-obsessed. He may be interested in music, in singing, in dancing, but he is not interested in dominating anybody. He may be interested in becoming a master of himself, but he is not interested in becoming a master of others.
Politicians are insane people. History is enough proof. And now computers are dominating. You know the saying: to err is human. It is true, but if you really want to create a great mess, human beings are not enough, you need computers. Now machines and mad people are dominating the whole world. We have to change the very foundation. That’s what I mean by a new man.
A new man means more conscious, more loving, more creative. This whole process is possible through being more meditative. Become more meditative, silent, still. Experience yourself deeply. In that experience, a fragrance will be released through you. And if many, many people become meditators, the earth can be full of a new perfume.

The third question:
I never know what is coming next. It is no use being prepared. You are killing me. I am so glad, but it is so painful and so scary.
P.S. this is for a few strokes. Please don't cause any more trouble.
A few strokes are enough to cause trouble and when you ask it, you get it! Sometimes people get it even without asking. Whatever you need and whenever you need, it is given to you.
Pain is not always bad; sometimes it is absolutely necessary. It is a blessing in disguise. You grow through it; you cannot grow if you try to bypass it. One becomes integrated, crystallized through pain. The only condition to be fulfilled is that you should go into it consciously. Then pain, too, is a gift from existence, just as death is. Then everything is a gift, if you can go consciously into it. Then everything prepares you for the new birth, for the new man.
You say, “I never know what is coming next.” Nobody knows and nobody needs to know. Samarpan, it is good not to be bothered about the future. The present is enough, and to live in the present, totally absorbed in the present, is the way of the sannyasin.
Jesus says to his disciples, “Look at the lilies in the field, how beautiful they are!” And what is their secret? The secret is, they never think of the morrow, they live in the present. The whole existence lives in the present, except man; hence, except man, there is no anxiety, no anguish. All anxiety, all anguish is man-created; it is our own doing. It simply exists in our own minds. We are worried about the past which is stupid because you can’t do anything about it; whatsoever has happened has happened, you cannot go back. But we go on thinking, “Had I done this, had I said this…” You are simply wasting more time. People go on repenting about the past – that which is not is not worth repenting about. People feel guilty about their past. That which is gone is gone forever. Feel disconnected, become discontinuous.
Each moment, Samarpan, one has to become discontinuous with the past. If you become discontinuous with the past, only then do you stop worrying about the future, because the future is nothing but a projection of the past. The people who live in the past also live in the future. The future is a reflection of the past. What exactly is your idea of the future? It means you are not going to commit the mistakes that you committed in the past, you are going to delete those mistakes. And you are going to enjoy all that was pleasant in the past more deeply. That’s what your future is: intensifying your pleasures of the past and deleting your pains of the past.
But you don’t understand life. Pains and pleasures are joined together. If you want the same pleasures that you enjoyed in the past and you want them to be more intense, you are asking for the pain that you also suffered in the past. And, of course, the pain will be as intense as the pleasure. They are always balanced, they move together, they are inseparable. They are two sides of the same coin.
So you are simply wasting time, whether you are thinking of the past or of the future. The future is not going to be according to you. Who are you to decide about the future? This vast universe can’t be decided by your private will, by your ego. You have to stop pushing the river. You have to learn how to go with the river, how to go with the wind.
Lao Tzu says: “Be like a dead leaf,” so wherever the wind blows, the leaf goes with it. It has no destiny of its own, it has no private goals of its own, it has no will of its own. It is utterly surrendered. That is the meaning of your name, Samarpan. Samarpan means “totally surrendered”: one who has lost his will into the will of the whole.
Jesus says on the cross, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.” That is samarpan, that is surrender. “Thy will, not mine.” That is his last prayer and the very essence of prayerfulness, the very soul of a religious man.
There is no need to prepare for the future. Live in the present totally, that’s all. That is preparation for the future without preparing at all. Why? – because when you live totally in the present, the future is going to be born out of the present. From where is it going to come? It is going to grow out of this moment. If you have lived this moment in its total beauty, joy, celebration, the next moment will come out of it and you will be able to live it even more totally, even more joyously. But you don’t think about it and you don’t prepare for it because thinking and preparing means missing this moment. And if you miss this moment you will miss the next too, because it will be coming out of this empty moment which you absolutely missed.
So a strange phenomenon happens, a very strange law of life: those who prepare for the future are the ones who go on missing, and those who don’t prepare but live in the present, utterly surrendered to the whole, never miss anything. Their future comes out of the present, flows out of the present. Then the whole takes care. When you are surrendered, the whole takes care; when you are not surrendered, you have to take care of yourself. And that is like trying to pull yourself up by your own shoestrings.

Mulla Nasruddin went for his first airplane flight. When he came back he was looking very tired – and just a fifteen-minute flight from Mumbai to Pune – he was trembling, his face was looking so pale.
I asked, “What is the matter?”
He said, “What is the matter! Those two plane flights!”
I said, “What two plane flights? You have been only on one plane flight.”
He said, “Two – my first and my last! I am finished with this nonsense! I was so afraid, I had to sit just on the edge of the chair.”
“But why on the edge?” I asked him.
He said, “So that my whole weight was not on the plane, that’s why.”

This is the way millions of people are living in the world: so their whole weight is not on the whole; otherwise something may go wrong. The whole is capable of carrying you. You are almost nothing; it is not a problem for the whole.

A man who had finished his life went before God. God reviewed his life and showed him the many lessons he had learned. When he had finished God said, “My child, is there anything you wish to ask?”
The man said, “While you were showing me my life, I noticed that when the times were pleasant there were two sets of footprints, and I knew you walked beside me. But when times were difficult there was only one set of footprints. Why, Father, did you desert me during the difficult times?”
And God said, “You misinterpret me, my son. It is true that when times were pleasant I walked beside you and pointed out the way. But when times were difficult, I carried you.”

You say, Samarpan, “I never know what is coming next. It is no use being prepared.” Certainly, it is no use being prepared – or, there is a totally different way of being prepared. That is what I am trying to show you. Live in the moment totally, fully aware. That is the real way of preparing without preparing. That is preparation without preparation. You will be ready for the next moment naturally, without any worry.
You say, “You are killing me.” Yes, in a sense. And in another sense… Meditate over this story:

A man is taking a walk in a park late at night. Suddenly, behind some bushes he hears strange gasps and muffled screams. Alarmed, he shouts, “Is anybody being killed in there?”
“No, no,” shouts back a voice. “Just the opposite!”

Yes, in one sense I am killing you; in another sense, I am giving you a new birth. I am doing just the opposite.
The master is a womb. He takes the disciple inside his womb. We call that womb the buddhafield. Then the disciple grows in his love, is nourished through his love, in his light. He is showered continuously with his compassion, with his understanding. And one day he comes out of the womb of the master, a totally new man. The old dies and the new is born. This is how you become twice-born.

The fourth question:
You talk about the difference between “knowing” and “knowledge.” But to become a master, do you not have to have knowledge as well as knowing? It seems to me that you, in your talks, show much knowledge. Can this not be a part of the way for some?
There is a great difference between knowledge and knowing. To you, knowing may appear as knowledge because you are not acquainted with knowing at all; you know only knowledge. Hence you may find much knowledge in what I am saying, but it is not knowledge to me, it is knowing to me. Knowing means my own experience; knowledge means something borrowed.
It is not necessary that my knowing should go against the knowing of Buddha or Jesus or Krishna. In fact, it cannot go against anybody’s knowing. Knowing is the same, the process is the same, whether Buddha knows or Zarathustra. It is the same.
Knowing means you enter into your interiority, you move inward, you reach to the very center of your being. You experience who you are, and in that very experience you know you are God, because only God exists. To say, “God is,” is a tautology because God means “is”; “isness” is God.
Whatever I am saying here may appear to you as knowledge because it can be found in the Bible, in the Koran, in the Gita, in The Dhammapada. So you will think, “Of course, it is knowledge.” It is not. The difference is subtle and delicate.
One can know about love – libraries are full; thousands of books about love have been written. You can gather as much knowledge about love as possible. You can make an encyclopedia of love. You can become an encyclopedia of love. Still, if you have not experienced love, all that you know is rubbish, all that you know is verbal, intellectual; it has no existential value.
Buddha used to say: “It is like a man who goes on counting other people’s cows and buffaloes every day, while he himself has no cow, no buffalo.” Counting other people’s cows and buffaloes you may become very expert in counting, you may become very reliable, but unless you have your own cow you will not be nourished by that counting.
To know means to be silent, utterly silent, so you can hear the still, small voice within. To know means to drop the mind. When you are absolutely still, unmoving, nothing wavers in you, the doors open. You are part of this mysterious existence. You know it by becoming part of it, by becoming a participant in it. That is knowing.
Once knowing has happened, then to read the Bible and the Koran and the Gita is beautiful because then they all become witnesses. Otherwise you can read, you can repeat, but they are only words with no meaning, with no content.
Knowledge is without content, empty shells with nothing inside. But if you have seen only knowledge, from the outside both will look almost the same. Knowledge comes through studying and knowing happens through meditation. The processes are different. In knowledge you have to go into words, into language, into scriptures. In knowing you have to go within yourself. The processes are not only different but polar opposites. In knowing, first you have to drop knowledge because that becomes a hindrance. First you have to know that you don’t know. You have to become innocent.
Jesus says: “Unless you are as innocent as small children you will not enter into my kingdom of God.”

The clergyman was telling his guests a story when his little girl interrupted.
“Daddy,” she asked, “is it true or is it mere preaching?”

There is a great difference whether something is true or is just preaching – “mere preaching.”

An old priest had to leave his village one Saturday – the day everyone goes to confession. He taught the new young priest who was taking over his job the necessary basics: “If a woman steals money from her husband – three ‘Ave Maria’ and two ‘Pater Noster’; if someone commits adultery – five ‘Ave Maria’ and three ‘Pater Noster’; for those who have been telling lies – one ‘Ave Maria’ and two ‘Pater Noster’, and so on.”
The young priest heard first the confession of a pretty village girl.
“Father, I have committed a sin,” the girl said.
“What have you done-a, my child-a?” asked the priest.
“I have given the boy next door a blow job,” she replied timidly.
The young priest was puzzled because he had not been instructed about such a situation. At that moment, he saw the old priest passing by, his suitcase in hand, preparing to leave. Quickly he called out to the old man, “Father, Father, one moment please. There is a young-a girl-a here. What do I give her-a for a blow-a job?”
“Fifty dollars,” replied the old priest.

Knowledge is borrowed; knowing is yours, your own. It is authentic. Knowledge is information, knowing is transformation.
You ask me, “You talk about the difference between knowing and knowledge. But to become a master, do you not have to have knowledge as well as knowing?” Knowing is enough. To be a master, knowing is enough.
“It seems to me,” you say, “that you, in your talks, show much knowledge.” I am not a master because of my knowledge, but in spite of it! I was a professor in a university. I had to struggle a great deal to get out of my knowledge. Still something of it goes on lingering around me. Forgive me for that! But it has nothing to do with being a master.
Jesus had no knowledge; he was more fortunate. He was not a professor in a university, he was just a poor carpenter’s son. Mohammed was fortunate; he was absolutely illiterate. I was unfortunate. I have suffered a lot from knowledge. My whole problem was how to get rid of it. That’s why I am so concerned about you and I continuously insist on being aware of knowledge – don’t become knowledgeable. I am saying it because of my own experience.
It is easy to renounce wealth, it is easy to renounce power, prestige, because they are outside things. The greatest problem is to renounce your knowledge because it goes so deep. It becomes so ingrained it becomes almost a part of your being. You can escape to the Himalayas – the wife, the shop, the power, everything will be left behind, but not knowledge. It will be there with you wherever you go. It is not a shadow, it is something inside your skin. It is easy to get out of your skin; it is more difficult to get out of your knowledge. Hence I go on saying to you: beware, beware of becoming knowledgeable. And there is a great tendency in the mind to become knowledgeable because it is very ego-fulfilling.
But one need not be knowledgeable to become a master. If you are already knowledgeable, then put it aside. Become innocent again so that you can know on your own, and when you have known you can use your knowledge. It can be used, but only later on. Knowing comes first, then you can use your knowledge, but your use of knowledge will be totally different from the use of the scholars.
That’s why my interpretation of Jesus, Buddha, Mahavira, is totally different from the interpretations of scholars. It is bound to be so. Their interpretations are verbal, they are only logical interpretations. They are great argumentators, clever in hairsplitting.
My interpretations are not argumentative, are not intellectual. My interpretations are paradoxical. If you are against me you can call them anti-intellectual; if you love me you can call them supra-intellectual. It depends on you. If you are against me, they are irrational; if you are in love with me, they are suprarational. If you are against me, they are self-contradictory; if you love me they are mysterious, paradoxical.
When I say anything I am not concerned whether I am being true to Buddha or not. My concern is whether I am being true to myself or not. If I am true to myself I know that I must be true to Buddha; it can’t be otherwise. So I don’t take much care whether I am literally true to Buddha, to Jesus, or not. I take every freedom.
Sometimes I change the stories when I see that a story is not possible, it couldn’t have happened to a buddha, and sometimes I invent stories.

Once a great Buddhist scholar, Bhadant Anand Kausalyayan, came to see me. He said, “Everything you say is beautiful, but I have come across a few stories which I have not found in any scriptures.”
I asked him, “For example?”
He said, “For example, just the other day I was reading a beautiful story you have told: Buddha is passing down a street talking to his disciple, Ananda, and a fly sits on his head. He goes on talking and just moves his hand to scare away the fly, and then he stops suddenly in the middle of the road. The fly is gone, but he moves his hand again slowly as if the fly is there.
“Ananda is very much puzzled. He says, ‘What are you doing? The fly is no longer there!’
“Buddha says, ‘Yes, I know, but this is how I should have done it before. I continued to talk with you and automatically I allowed my hand to move. That is not right for me. I should move my hand with more awareness. So now I am doing it as I should have done.’”
Anand Kausalyayan said, “I have never come across this story. I have read all the scriptures.”
I asked him, “But do you think the story is beautiful?”
He said, “The story is beautiful.”
Then I said, “It is perfectly right. Then why bother about the scriptures? Don’t you see a Buddhist flavor in it?”
He said, “I can see.”
“So that is the whole point!”

I am not functioning here as a man of knowledge, but only as a man of knowing.

The fifth question:
I am losing my memory and it is worrying me to death. What should I do?
Nonsense! Just forget all about it!

The sixth question:
What would you say was wrong with the Indians?
Almost everything!

The seventh question:
Yes! I was not sure until now. I said the same words to Aseema a month ago: “You have driven two other men mad. Don't let it be me.” Wow! We have been in love for maybe one year now, and to tell you the truth I am really allowing her to affect me in all possible ways. Both Nikunj and Sarvesh are affected by her, and for myself I see what it is: love with a witch! Release me, beloved Osho.
Ah… What shall I do?
It is too late! I am not a witch doctor – now, nothing can be done. In fact, you are already mad.

Mulla Nasruddin plays on the sitar, but he goes on playing the same note continuously for hours. His wife has gone mad, his children have gone mad, his parents have gone mad.
One day he continued to play the same note, and a neighbor asked him, “Mulla, we have seen many people playing sitar, but they change notes.”
Nasruddin said, “I know they go on changing because they have not yet found the right note. And I have found it, so why should I change?”
The neighbor said, “But now it is two o’clock in the morning. Please! Just one hour more and I will go mad. Stop it!”
Nasruddin said, “It is too late because I have stopped already. It is almost two hours since I stopped! What are you talking about?”

One year with Aseema, and you are finished! She is dangerous, as all beautiful women are. All women are witches! In fact, the word witch means wise. It is exactly the equivalent of buddha. If a woman becomes enlightened she becomes a witch.
Aseema is just on the verge of becoming enlightened, and on the way she is giving whatsoever help she can. Whosoever meets her, she helps him. You have been helped by her, and there is no way now for you to be released. All is finished! You had better settle in it.
Nikunj and Sarvesh got mad because they tried to escape. Only then did they become aware that they were mad. If they had remained with Aseema, there would have been no problem.
So don’t try to escape from Aseema, that’s my only advice. Remain with her. She is beautiful and I love her.

The eighth question:
Is there any good quality in the institution of marriage?
An ancient scripture says, and this is knowledge: marriage is an institution that teaches a man regularity, frugality, temperance, forbearance and many other splendid virtues he would not need had he stayed single.

The venerable old man was celebrating his one-hundredth birthday and was asked by a reporter, “To what do you attribute your advanced age and remarkable physical condition?”
“I will tell you,” replied the centenarian. “When my wife and I were first married, the rabbi who performed the ceremony suggested that whenever I saw an argument coming I should take a walk around the block. I took the rabbi’s advice and I want you to know that for seventy years the constant exercise did wonders for my health.”

The last question:
About this talk you gave in favor of mixed marriages. I come from good old traditional Dutch stock and have recently gotten together with a simple-minded, beer-boozing cockney. Since then I have taken up disco dancing, rock ‘n' roll singing, parties and beer. I am having a ball – but are you sure this is the way to raise the consciousness in the world?
Arup, I am absolutely sure!
Enough for today.

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