He Died in Samadhi

Question 1:

Vivek,

IT WAS NOT A DEATH AT ALL. Or it was the total death. And both mean the same thing. I was hoping that he would die in this way. He died a death that everybody should be ambitious for: he died in samadhi, he died utterly detached from the body and the mind.

I went to see him only three times during this whole month he was in the hospital.

Whenever I felt that he was just on the verge, I went to see him. The first two times I was a little afraid that if he died he would have to be born again; a little attachment to the body was there. His meditation was deepening every day, but a few chains with the body were still intact, were not broken.

Yesterday I went to see him: I was immensely happy that now he could die a right death.

He was no more concerned with the body. Yesterday, early in the morning at three o'clock, he attained his first glimpse of the eternal -- and immediately he became aware that now he was going to die. This was the first time he had called me to come; the other two times I had gone on my own. Yesterday he called me to come because he was certain that he was going to die. He wanted to say good-bye, and he said it beautifully -- with no tears in the eyes, with no longing for life any more.

Hence, in a way it is not a death but a birth into eternity. He died in time and was born into eternity. Or it is a total death -- total in the sense that now he will not be coming any more. And that is the ultimate achievement; there is nothing higher than it.

He left the world in utter silence, in joy, in peace. He left the world like a lotus flower -- it was worth celebrating. And these are the occasions for you to learn how to live and how to die. Each death should be a celebration, but it can be a celebration only if it leads you to higher planes of existence.

He died enlightened. And that's how I would like each of my sannyasins to die. Life is ugly if you are unenlightened, and even death becomes beautiful if you are enlightened.

Life is ugly if you are unenlightened because it is a misery, a hell. Death becomes a door to the divine if you are enlightened; it is no more a misery, it is no more a hell. In fact, on the contrary, it is getting out of all hell, out of all misery.

I am immensely glad that he died the way he died. Remember it: as meditation deepens, you become farther and farther away from your body-mind composite. And when meditation reaches its ultimate peak, you can see everything.

Yesterday morning he was absolutely aware of death, that it had come. And he called me.

This was the first time he had called me, and the moment I saw him I saw that he was no more in the body. All the pains of the body had disappeared. That's why the doctors were puzzled: the body was functioning in an absolutely normal way. This was the last thing the doctors could have imagined, that he could die. He could have died any day before.

He was in deep pain, there were many complexities in the body: his heart was not functioning well, his pulse was missing; there were blood clots in the brain, in the leg, in the hand.

Yesterday he was absolutely normal. They checked, and they said it was impossible; now there was no problem, no danger. But this is how it happens. The day of the danger, according to the physicians, didn't prove dangerous. The first twenty-four hours when he was admitted to the hospital one month before were the most dangerous; they were afraid that he would die. He didn't die. Then for the next twenty-four hours they were still hesitant to say whether he would be saved or not. A suggestion had even come from a surgeon to cut the leg off completely, because if blood clots started happening in other places it would be impossible to save him.

But I was against cutting off the leg, because one has to die one day -- why distort the body and why create more pain? And just living in itself has no meaning, just lengthening the life has no meaning. I said no. They were surprised. And when he survived for almost four weeks they thought I was right, that there had been no need to cut off the leg; the leg was coming back, becoming alive again. He had started walking also, which Dr. Sardesai thought was a miracle. They had not hoped for that much, that he would be able to walk.

Yesterday he was perfectly normal, everything normal. And that gave me the indication that now death was possible. If meditation happens before death, everything becomes normal. One dies in perfect health, because one is not really dying but entering into a higher plane. The body becomes a stepping-stone.

He was meditating for years. He was a rare man -- it is very rare to find a father like him.

A father becoming a disciple of his own son: it is rare. Jesus' father did not dare to become a disciple, Buddha's father hesitated for years to become a disciple. But he was meditating for years. Three hours each day, in the morning from three to six, he was sitting in meditation. Yesterday also, in the hospital also, he continued.

Yesterday it happened. One never knows when it will happen. One has to go on digging...one day one comes across the source of water, the source of consciousness.

Yesterday it happened; it happened in right time. If he had left his body just one day before he would have been back in the body again soon -- a little clinging was there. But yesterday the slate was completely clean. He attained to no-mind, he died like a Buddha.

What more can one have than Buddhahood?

My effort here is to help you all to live like Buddhas and die like Buddhas. The death of a Buddha is both! It is not a death, because life is eternal. Life does not begin with birth and does not end with death. Millions of times you have been born and died; they are all small episodes In the eternal pilgrimage. But because you are unconscious you cannot see that which is beyond birth and death.

As you become more conscious, you can see your original face. He saw his original face yesterday. He heard the one hand clapping, he heard the soundless sound. Hence it is not a death: it is attaining life eternal. On the other hand it can be called a total death -- total death in the sense that he will not be coming any more.

Rejoice!

The second question

Question 2:

Ambubhai Diwanji,

IT IS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL STORIES. There is no parallel to it in the whole history of religion, but it has to be understood. You have misunderstood it totally; it is very easy to misunderstand it. Apparently, what you have understood is what is understood by people who read the story.

The question arises: why are two enlightened persons so much affected by the death of their Master? They are not affected at all! It is not happening out of misery; it is a totally different dimension.

Rajjab never opened his eyes again. He was asked once why he had closed his eyes. He said, "Because I have seen the most beautiful thing in the world -- now there is nothing else to see!"

Dadu was the most beautiful flower. Now what is the point of keeping your eyes open?

for what? If you have the Kohinoor with you, you will not go on collecting pebbles on the seashore -- or will you? Rajjab is not affected. It is not out of sadness that he closes his eyes; there is not a single tear in his eyes. He is not weeping, he is not crying.

With closed eyes he continued to dance and sing the songs of Dadu. But he said, "Once you have seen God in human form, then there is nothing else worth seeing. I would like the impact of my Master on my eyes to be the last and the most penetrating. I would not like it to be covered by dust."

Ambubhai, then the whole story takes a totally different turn. It is tremendous love. It is not an attachment to the Master's body, it is great understanding.

Once you have seen a Master...and Rajjab lived very very close to Dadu. The day he became an initiate he was very small, just seven years old. He had come with his parents to participate in a religious festival; he was not even aware of Dadu. Dadu was also there at the festival. The parents had gone to pay their formal respects, because it was known in the country that Dadu was enlightened. They didn't believe, but this country is very traditional and formal: if people hear that somebody is enlightened, whether they believe or not they at least go and touch his feet. Maybe he is, then why miss the opportunity? If he is not, you are not losing anything by touching his feet. This is cunningness, businesslike!

The parents had gone; Rajjab followed the parents. The parents touched his feet, but Rajjab was transformed. The moment he saw Dadu he recognized something from his past lives. This man was not new, this quality was not new. He had known him before.

That almost always happens if you have lived with a Master before -- immediately a recognition!

He fell at his feet. The parents tried to persuade him to come back with them. He said, "I have found my real parents. Now you can go." He touched the feet of his parents and said, "Just as you have touched the feet of Dadu formally, I touch your feet and say good- bye." A seven-year-old child! Must have had a maturity of many lives behind him.

The parents cried and wept, but Rajjab said, "It is impossible! I have found the man -- I cannot leave him even for a single moment!"

And from that time, for twenty years, he was in the service of the Master; looking after his needs, sleeping in the same room, continuously on guard for what he needed.

And the day Dadu died Rajjab simply closed his eyes. It was closing eyes to the world.

He was saying, Now there is nothing more to see. I have seen that which is really worth seeing. Now why waste your eyes and why collect dust? Once you have mirrored God then there is nothing else -- you have seen the ultimate."

It was not out of attachment, Ambubhai, that Rajjab closed his eyes; it was out of great understanding. And he was not unhappy. He danced, he sang songs, as long as he lived -- but with closed eyes, so that he could still see the Master inside. Twenty years'

continuous communion with the Master...the Master had almost become a part of his soul! By closing his eyes he was still keeping company with the Master. Don't misunderstand him.

Rajjab is one of the most beautiful disciples ever.

And what happened to Sundero, another disciple? When Dadu died he laid himself down on the same bed and remained on the same bed; he never left the bed again. The Master had slept on it his whole life: it was full of his vibe, it was full of his presence, it was soaked with him. He would not leave the bed. "Why?" people would ask him.

And Sundero would say, "There is nowhere to go. I have arrived -- this is my home. This is my MOKSHA, this is my heaven. And I would like to LIVE in this beautiful space that the Master has created in this bed, and I would like to die here."

It is becoming so attuned with the Master that you don't feel your life and your death as separate from him; that is the meaning of it.

Sundero was so attuned with the Master's life that it used to happen sometimes that he would speak in Dadu's name. And he was told by people, "You are not Dadu!"

Then he would say, "Yes, forgive me. I forget! But if you ask in reality, then I am Dadu - - I have become one with my Master."

That is the ultimate state of disciplehood: when the disciple becomes one with the Master. He used to say that he was Dadu. He has written songs in which his name is not given but Dadu's name -- and people think that is not good. And the scholars go on discarding all that has been written by Sundero; they think that is not from Dadu.

But I say to you: it IS from Dadu! Sundero has become just a hollow bamboo on the lips of Dadu. Sundero exists no more as a separate entity. That is the ultimate goal of a disciple: when the disciple and Master meet and merge and become one. Sundero has become one with the Master, hence he has every right to sign 'Dadu'. He signs his poems as Dadu, not as Sundero -- and I TOTALLY agree with him! And I would like the scholars to be a little more sensitive.

These things are not for scholarship, these things are not for learned people. These things are for lovers! Only lovers can understand these things. Such a beautiful phenomenon:

that a disciple cannot sign his name, he has forgotten.

Sometimes people would come to invite Dadu and Sundero would say, "Yes, I will come."

And they would say, "But we have not come to invite you, we have come to invite Dadu!"

Sundero would say, "But who am I? Why give trouble to the old man? I can come -- I am his younger form. I can travel long distances more easily -- why create trouble for him?"

And Dadu sometimes used to send Sundero. People would invite Dadu and he would send Sundero. And people were very much puzzled: "We have invited the Master, not the disciple." But they were not able to understand that the Master and the disciple, at the ultimate peak of their love affair, disappear into each other.

Hence, the day Dadu died, Sundero did not say a single word about his death, did not go to the funeral at all. Everybody left for the funeral. Thousands of disciples had gathered, and they were crying and weeping and they were in great misery. And what did Sundero do? He entered into the bed of the Master, covered himself with his blanket -- became Dadu. When people came back they thought, "This is sacrilegious!" They told Sundero, "This is not right -- you are going mad! Have you gone crazy or something? This is the Master's bed -- you get out!"

He said, "But I am no more. Sundero has died. Have you not gone to his funeral? You have gone, you have burnt him! I am Dadu. Now Dadu will function through me."

That's why, Ambujibhai, he never left the bed, not even for a single moment. He lived on the bed, he died on the same bed -- because he had become the Master.

I call this game the mad game! By 'mad' I mean: M represents Master and D represents disciple -- 'Master-And-Disciple Game' -- it is a MAD game! Unless you also become mad you will not understand it.

And Ambujibhai, I am happy to see that some madness is entering into you. You are on the way. You will not be out of this Buddhafield for long. I can see you approaching closer and closer. Sooner or later the color orange is going to be your color too -- and I hope that before you leave the body this happens.

Become Rajjab, become Sundero! Don't think about them -- these people are not to be contemplated upon. These people are to be lived! It is only by living that one can understand such tremendous phenomena.

The third question

Question 3:

Anand Dasi,

I AM IN THE DESERT! Where do you think I am?

This is the desert! To live with unconscious people is to live in a desert. To live with people who are not blooming, flowering, is to live in a desert. It is a human desert -- far more empty than any desert can ever be.

To become enlightened amongst unenlightened people is to live in a desert. That is the fate of all the Buddhas. I say one thing, you understand something; else. Constant misinterpretation is bound to happen, because I talk from a totally different plane. I talk out of a fullness and you receive only through the mind. You receive only the words -- and words cannot convey my message.

My message can be conveyed to you only if you really become committed, involved, in the energy field that I am creating, if you really become a plant in my garden, if you allow me to destroy your ego -- because that is how growth begins. The death of the ego is the beginning of growth. Just as the seed has to die in the soil, the ego has to die in the Master. Once your ego is completely gone, you are a beautiful tree, with much foliage, greenery, flowers, fragrance.

My effort is to make this desert a garden. And there is every possibility of succeeding, because people ARE getting ready. Hesitating, which is natural; waiting, thinking, which is natural. But you cannot be here long thinking and waiting; sooner or later the quantum leap.... You cannot go on misunderstanding me for ever.

If you just remain here, even if you misunderstand my words, I am working on you -- not through the mind; I am playing on the instrument of your heart. Words are just to keep you engaged so that I can enter into your heart.

Yes, the work of a Master is like a thief.

There is a Zen story; Zen Masters have loved it tremendously. When you come across it for the first time you will feel puzzled about the story -- it is about a master thief.

A man was known as a master thief in Japan; he was well-known, famous, all over the country. And, of course, he was a master thief so nobody had ever been able to catch hold of him. He was never caught red-handed -- although everybody knew that he was the one who had stolen -- even from the treasury of the king he had been stealing. And he was always leaving marks of his so everybody would know who had been there.

In fact, it had become the fashion to BRAG about it, if the master thief had thought you worthy to steal something from. It became an aristocratic bragging! People would brag, saying, "Last night the master thief has been to our house."

But the man was getting older, and one day his young son said to him, "Now you are getting older, teach me your art!"

The father said, "Then come with me tonight -- because this is not something that can be taught. You can only imbibe the spirit of me; if you are intelligent enough you can catch it. I cannot TEACH it to you, but you can catch it. I cannot give it to you, but you can get it. We will see. You come tonight with me."

Naturally the son was afraid -- the first time! The wall was broken, they went into the palace. Even in his old age the father's hands were like a surgeon's, unwavering, unshaking, although he was becoming very old -- with no fear, as if he was working in his own home, breaking the wall. He did not even look here and there he was so certain of his art. And the young man was trembling -- it was a cold winter night and he was perspiring! But the father was doing everything silently.

Then the father entered into the house. The son followed, his knees trembling, and he was feeling he might fall any moment. He was losing all consciousness because the fear was such...if they were caught, then?

The father was moving in the dark house as if it was his house and he knew everything about the house, and even in the dark he could move without stumbling against the furniture, against the doors. Making no noise at all, noiselessly, he reached into the innermost chamber of the palace. He opened a cupboard and told the son to go in and find whatsoever was valuable. The son entered it. The father locked the door, shouted, "A thief! A thief! Wake up!" and escaped through the hole that they had dug in the wall.

Now this was too much! The son could not under-stand it. Now he is locked in the cupboard, trembling, perspiring, and the whole house is awake, people are searching for the thief. "What kind of father is this? He has murdered me!" he thought. "And what kind of teaching is this?" This is the last thing he would have ever imagined: he has created a living nightmare for him! Now he is certain to be caught! And he has locked the door from the outside; he cannot even open the door and escape.

After one hour he reached home -- the son -- and the father was fast asleep and snoring!

He threw aside his blanket and said, "What kind of nonsense is this?!"

The father said, "So you are back! No need to tell the whole story -- you also go to sleep.

Now you know the art, we need not discuss it."

But the son said, "I have to tell you the whole story, what happened."

The father said, "If you want to tell it you can, otherwise I don't require it. Just that you have come is enough proof! Now from tomorrow night you start on your own. You have got the intelligence, the awareness that a thief needs. I am immensely happy with you!"

But the son was so overflowing, he wanted to relate the whole thing -- he had done such a great job. He said, "Just listen, otherwise I will not be able to sleep at all. I am so excited!

You almost killed me!"

The father said, "It is hard, but that's how a master has to act many times. Tell me the whole story. What happened?"

He said, "Out of nowhere -- not from my intellect, certainly not from my mind -- this has happened."

The father said, "This is the key to all mastery in all the fields of life, whether you are a thief or a meditator, whether you are a lover or a scientist or a painter or a poet, it doesn't matter. Whatsoever the field, this is the master key -- that nothing happens from the head, everything happens from somewhere below. Call it intuition, call it no-mind, call it meditation -- these are names, different names for the same thing. It has started functioning, I can see it on your face; I can see the aura around you. You are going to become a master thief! And remember through being a master thief I have attained to meditation. So remember: this is the way for you to attain meditation."

The son said, "When I was standing inside that damned cupboard and people were searching for the thief, a woman servant came with a candle in her hand; I could see from the keyhole. Something from nowhere...I started making noises as if I was a cat -- and I have never done it before! The woman servant, thinking that there was a cat in the cupboard, unlocked it. As she unlocked it -- I don't know how I did it and who did it -- it happened! I blew the candle out, pushed the woman away, and ran! People followed me - - the whole house was awake, the neighborhood was awake. And they were coming closer and closer and I was on the verge of being caught.

Then suddenly I came across a well. I saw a rock just by the side of the well -- I don't believe that I have that much strength to pick that rock up now, but it happened."

When you are in such situations your whole energy becomes available to you. You don't live only on the superficial level. When life is at stake, your whole energy becomes available.

"I moved the rock, picked up the rock -- I cannot believe that I could even shake it now! - - and threw it in the well, then ran away. The noise, the sound of the rock falling in the well...and all the people who were following me stopped following me. They surrounded the well; they thought I had jumped into the well. That's how I am back home."

The father said, "Now you can go to sleep. I am finished! Never ask me anything again.

Now you start on your own.

The work of a Master is a difficult work. He has to shout from the peaks, and you are crawling in the dark valleys of life. You are living in your graves, and he has to shout from eternal life. Misunderstanding is natural; because of that misunderstanding every Buddha lives in a desert.

A couple were applying for a marriage license.

"Your name?"

"Ole Olson."

"And yours?"

"Lena Olson."

"Any connection?"

The bride blushed. "Only once. He jumped me."

"Any connection?" and the woman's mind immediately interprets it in her own way, the only way she can.

Monsieur Foucard was visiting London for the first time. While walking about he felt nature calling and looked around for a public latrine like those in Paris. He could not find one and, in desperation, stepped into a dark building entrance. Immediately a bobby tapped him from behind, "You can't do that here, you know!"

Later he tried to go behind a tree, but another bobby stopped him. In a few minutes he was, again prevented by a policeman. Finally he noticed a shingle: "Dr. Dingley, Urologist". Dashing into the office, Foucard said, "Doctor, I cannot -- how you say? -- relieve myself."

The doctor handed him a bottle and told him to step behind the screen. In a few seconds the Frenchman cried, "Doctor, another container, s'il vous plait!"

The doctor handed him one, and in a few minutes had to repeat the process. When the now happy Frenchman stepped out, the doctor asked, "My good man, who told you that you could not relieve yourself?"

"Ze entire London Police Department!"

It is natural. I speak from one world, you listen from a different world. Between me and you there is a great desert. If you allow, it can become a garden -- but only if you allow; it cannot be imposed on you. You cannot be forced; great things never happen through enforcement. You cannot be regimented, you cannot be ordered, commanded. All commandments have failed. Religion has, not succeeded because the priests have been ordering people: "Do this, don't do that."

I cannot say to you: "Do this, don't do that." I can only relate my understanding to you. I can open my heart. I can go on playing on my flute. If you become enchanted by it -- yes 'enchanted' is the word -- if you become allured by it, if you become completely oblivious of yourself, your past, your mind, your ideas, your prejudices, your upbringing, if my presence can help you to unburden, your seed will fall in the soil.

The soil is ready, the spring has come. Now it is up to you -- it is ALL up to you! A little courage, and the desert can be transformed into a garden.

The fourth question

Question 4:

IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE INTENSE AND ATTUNED DAY BY DAY.

EXPERIENCE IT AS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING THAT IS HAPPENING FOR ME HERE.

Sarjano,

NO, IT IS A FACT, you just don t know the right word for it. 'Collective soul' is not the right term; it is very misleading. Soul can only be individual. Then what is happening here in this commune? Anybody who enters the ashram for the first time immediately becomes aware of something. He can see it on people's faces, he can see it in their walk, he can see it in the way they are working. He can see that it is no ordinary humanity.

Some grace he can feel, some joy permeating the whole place, some playfulness, some sense of humor. And people are working seven days a week. Nobody is looking at the clock...except the Indians!

People are enjoying the work: it is play, it is creativity. They are not tired. In fact, the deeper they go into this creativity, the more nourished they feel he more energy is released in them.

Anybody can see that something is there like an inner connection that connects all the sannyasins into one whole. It is not a collective soul, it is only falling into the same rhythm. I have a rhythm. The closer you come to me, the more you start falling into the same rhythm. Then my breath and your breath synchronize, then my heart and your heart synchronize.

And all the sannyasins are getting synchronized with me; hence they are also synchronized, as a consequence, with each other. It is a synchronicity. It is an orchestra.

We are all playing different instruments, but in harmony, in accord.

That harmony, Sarjano, you are calling the 'collective soul'. It is not a collective soul. An army has a collective mind, no soul at all, because soul can never be collective. Soul is always individual. It is found in your deepest aloneness; there is no other way to find it.

But n a commune...this is the chemistry of a commune, that it helps you to become harmonious with others. And the more harmonious you are with others, the closer you come to your own soul, because harmony brings you closer to the soul. When a person is absolutely in harmony with the universe he becomes enlightened.

A paradox to be remembered: the Buddha is one who is absolutely in harmony with the universe, and yet a Buddha is one who is an absolutely unique individual. He plays his flute or his guitar, but he plays his flute or guitar in absolute accord with the whole. He does not go in his own egoistic way -- he is not an idiot.

Remember: either you are a Buddha or you are an idiot! The word 'idiot' is beautiful; it simply means: doing something privately. Literally it means doing something privately; hence the words like 'idiosyncrasy'. The idiot does not mean a fool; the idiot is far more potent a word than the fool. The idiot simply means one who is trying to live through his ego, who is playing his instrument AGAINST the whole and trying to succeed. He is an idiot: he is going to fail, he is doomed to fail. His life will never know any blessing, any benediction.

Sarjano, your feeling is right, you are just using a wrong word. Yes, a harmony IS being created. I am in tune with the universe. You don't know what the tune of the universe is; it is invisible. Right now you cannot connect yourself with the universal rhythm directly.

But am in tune with the universe -- call it God, nirvana, enlightenment -- I am utterly lost in it. I have no song of my own to sing; I am singing the song of the universe. YOU can fall in tune with me.

That is how you become a disciple: when you find somebody with whom falling in love brings joy. Falling in love is falling in tune with somebody.

Your ordinary love affairs are ugly, because you are both in discord. Your love affair is superficial. Because you like the blonde hair of a girl, or the shape of the nose, or the color of the eyes, or the curves of the body...and you fall in love. Now curves of the body, color of the eyes, the blonde hair, are not going to last long. Sooner or later you will be fed up with them -- the same curve, the same eyes, the same nose -- sooner or later you will stop seeing them. This is not love! Hence conflict arises immediately. All so-called love affairs are nothing but conflicts disguised -- jealousies, possessiveness, domination, ego trips.

But when you fall in love with a Master it is a totally different phenomenon. You feel the rhythm of the Master; and slowly slowly your heart feels the call and you enter into an adventure. Slowly slowly, more and more people enter into that adventure...a commune is created.

First the Buddha: BUDDHAM SHARNAM GACHCHHAMI -- I go to the feet of the Buddha. Then the disciples arise, those who have gone to the feet of the Buddha:

SANGHAM SHARNAM GACHCHHAMI. Then many many disciples gather, and they start feeling attuned not only with the Buddha but a certain attunement with each other also arises naturally: they are all attuned to one center, hence they start feeling an attunement with each other. A brotherhood, a sisterhood, arises; that is the SANGHA -- the commune.

And when you have fallen in love with a Buddha and have fallen in love with a commune, the ultimate surrender arises: DHAMMAM SHARNAM GACHCHHAMI.

Then you know that it is neither the Buddha nor the commune: behind the Buddha is the universal law, the ultimate law -- DHAMMA. Buddha only represents the ultimate law in a visible form; his commune represents it in an even grosser way.

These are the three shelters. First you take shelter in the Buddha, then you take shelter in the commune, and then you take shelter in the ultimate law. This is what is happening here.

Sarjano, you are moving in the right direction; your feeling is perfectly right. Intuitively you are right, just intellectually you are using a wrong word. Drop that word!

The fifth question

Question 5:

Mandiro,

THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD IS MADE. The world is a great device of God. Just as Masters create small devices for the disciples, God creates the ultimate device for all beings. The world is a device.

It was Christmas time and a professor, a professor of philosophy and logic, went to a toyshop with his wife to purchase something beautiful, a new toy, for their only child as a Christmas gift. They tried many toys but they were all old, a little bit modified here and there. The shopkeeper, seeing that they were not satisfied, went inside the store and brought out an absolutely new toy they had never seen before. It was a jigsaw puzzle.

He said, "This is the latest and the best -- you MUST like it."

They tried to fit the jigsaw puzzle together. First the wife tried -- ladies first. She failed, she could not figure it out. The husband laughed -- the male chauvinist laughter! -- and he said, "Wait! I will do it." And he was a logician, a professor of philosophy; if he cannot do it, then who will be able to do it? He tried hard. First he was very much inspired and finally he was simply perspiring -- the whole inspiration became perspiration! He was drenched in perspiration. And a crowd had gathered, and there was no way to figure it out. The puzzle remained a puzzle, became more and more puzzling.

Finally he asked the shopowner, "What kind of jigsaw puzzle is this? If I cannot do it -- I am the Head of the Department of Logic in the University, mathematics is my hobby -- if I cannot do it, then how do you hope that a five-year-old child will be able to do it?"

The shopkeeper said, "Who told you that anybody can do it? This toy represents the world. It is made in such a way that it cannot be fixed. This is just a lesson for the child about how the world is!"

Do whatsoever you like -- EVERYTHING fails. And when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING. But it takes millions of lives for people to arrive at this point, because in one life you cannot try all there is. You try a few things; they fail, but the hope remains:

maybe you have not tried the right things.

You earn money, you become the richest man in the world -- you become an Andrew Carnegie. And at the peak, when you have become the richest man in the world, suddenly you see your whole life has been a wastage. Money is there, but there is no contentment inside -- and life has gone down the drain.

You can see the misery of an Andrew Carnegie. When he was dying, somebody who was writing a biography said to him, "You must be the most contented man in the world."

He said, "Contented? I am the MOST discontented man in the world! Don't you know I am the wealthiest man in the world? That is my discontent. Now I know there is no more to wealth: all that is possible I have attained, and yet I am dying empty. My life has been just a wastage. Next time, if God gives me another opportunity, I am not going to try money any more -- it has failed."

But the hope is there -- he will try politics...?

Those who attain to political power, they fail. But then they think maybe it is knowledge:

"We should try knowledge." And so on and so forth....

Mandiro, remember: the world is made as a device by God. EVERYTHING here is bound to fail. You can hope and you try, but nothing is going to succeed. The day you understand that nothing is going to succeed is the day of great transformation. That is the day sannyas is born.

In Detroit, brothels are now automatized. One puts twenty dollars in a slot and a door opens.

A politician decides to have a go. He puts in the twenty bucks and the door opens. He finds himself in a corridor with two doors: one reads "Blonde", the other reads "Brunette". He chooses the door with "Blonde" written on it. He then finds himself in another corridor with two doors: one reads "Tall" and the other reads "Small". He opens the door with "Tall" written on it and finds himself in another corridor with two doors:

one reads "Big Tits", the other reads "Small Tits" Immediately he chooses the door with "Big Tits" on it, and finds himself in another corridor with two doors, the one reading "Small Ass", the other "Large Ass". He rushes through the door with "Small Ass" written on it, and again finds himself in a corridor with two doors, one with "Real Screw" on it, the other "Fancy Fuck". He throws himself on the door with "Real Screw" on it...and finds himself in the street on the other side of the same building!

But you can try other ways. You will ALWAYS find that you end up in the street on the other side of the building!

The whole of life is like that...otherwise there would have been no reason for sannyas.

There would have been no reason for religion to exist at all. Religion exists only because the world fails. It is the failure of the world that brings you to a new awareness: that if the cherished goal cannot be found in the world, then let us try it inwards.

Mandiro, THERE you have not tried yet. Move inwards! Contentment is a quality of your center; it is not found on the circumference. Fulfillment is when you have arrived at your real, authentic being; it is not found in the ego.

The sixth question

Question 6:

Virendra,

I SIMPLY FEEL THAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME -- and that is that! It is not a question of feeling anything else. I say, "Two plus two is four," and you don't understand -- so I understand that you don't understand. I try again next day. I go on hammering, "Two plus two is four." If you understand, good; if you don't understand, good. It is not a question of FEELING. I don't feel hurt, I don't feel frustrated, because from the very beginning I am not EXPECTING you to understand.

Frustration comes through expectation. If I am expecting that you are going to understand, then, of course, when you don't understand there will be frustration, deep frustration. If I am hoping that you are going to behave in this way and you don't, then certainly I will feel hurt. You have disobeyed, you have not proved worthy enough, you have not risen to the occasion. But I have no expectation at all, of anybody.

So whatsoever you do, I go on giggling and seeing it all. If you misunderstand then I say, "Old man, try again!" What ELSE can be done? And this is not a new situation; this has been always so and this is going to be always so.

In fact, to expect that people should understand you is a subtle desire to dominate them.

Why? If they don't want to understand you it is perfectly okay. It is their life! They don't want to go in a certain way -- it is their choice and they are free.

Hence I never give detailed information about how you should live -- although YOU go on asking me: what you should eat, when you should go to bed, when should you get up in the morning.... You go on asking about these stupid details. And these stupid details have been given by your great -- so-called great -- saints down the ages. I don't give you one single detail.

I simply give you my insight, I SHARE my insight. I open up my heart before you. If you can partake of anything, I am obliged, I am thankful that in some way my love, my understanding, helped you to become more loving, more understanding. But misunderstanding is accepted.

Krishnamurti gets very angry -- sometimes even hits his head -- when he sees that people are not understanding him. Why be so worried about it? He is taking things too seriously, he is not playful. You can ask me the same question a thousand and one times; am not going to be angry. Each time you ask the question I am happily ready to share whatsoever is possible.

Why is Krishnamurti so serious? He was brought up by wrong people: the theosophists.

They are very serious people. They had made a. very mysterious philosophy out of all the religions of the world, a kind of synthesis. It is not a synthesis, it is just hocus-pocus, fragments from one place and a few fragments from another place. They were very serious people, and they wanted Krishnamurti to become the 'World Teacher'.

Now, how can you become the 'World Teacher'? There has never been a world teacher and there will never be. Unless the world decides to be your disciple, how can you be a world teacher?

In India there are many. All the shankaracharyas are called JAGATGURU -- world teachers. I know one shankaracharya who has only one disciple! I asked, "What kind of world teacherhood is this?"

He looked a little embarrassed. I told him, "Don't feel so embarrassed. I will suggest a way out to you."

In Hindi, JAGATGURU means world teacher. JAGAT means the world, GURU means teacher.

I told him, "You do one thing -- you start calling your disciple Jagat -- and then you become JAGATGURU! Don't feel so embarrassed; there is always a way. One can wriggle out of laws and words and.... Call him Jagat, and you are the guru, certainly!"

Theosophists wanted Krishnamurti to be a JAGATGURU -- a world teacher. And they tried hard. They could not make him do it, because he was a really intelligent person. If he had been just a little less intelligent he would have become a JAGATGURU, a world teacher. But he wriggled his way out. But even though he has come out of their grip, the scars are left. The seriousness is still there; he is not playful, he has no sense of humor.

I am not serious! What I am saying to you is said out of playfulness. It is more a gossiping than a gospel!

Watson, a Clevelander in Paris, was unable to find a bordello, so he asked a gendarme to give him directions. The policeman did not understand English very well. Watson tried pidgin English and pointing. "Me," he said, pointing to his chest.

"Ah! You wish to eat?" said the gendarme.

"No, no!" said Watson. He tried again, taking out a twenty-dollar bill.

"Ah! You wish to gamble?"

"No, no, no!" shouted the American in disgust, and he unzipped and zipped himself.

"Ah, oui, oui!" said the gendarme.

"Wee-wee, my ass! Where the hell is the nearest whorehouse?"

I am talking a different language, you understand a different-language -- but there is no need to make much fuss about it. It is natural.

A hippie was walking along the road when he saw a big rock by the side of the road, wobbling. Being a strong hippie, he picked up the rock to see what was underneath. To his surprise, out jumped a leprechaun! "To be sure, I am grateful to ye, lad!" he cried.

"And in return for your kindness I will grant you three magic wishes."

"Far out!" drawled the hippie. "Hey man, well, I wanna be uptight, outa sight and in the groove, baby!"

"Okay!" said the leprechaun, and turned him into a Tampax.

There is no problem when you misunderstand me or don't understand me -- there is no problem. I simply enjoy, whether you understand or misunderstand. My enjoyment remains undisturbed.

And I am not a messiah, and I am not a missionary. And I am not here to establish a church or to give a doctrine to the world, a new religion, no. My effort is totally different:

a new consciousness not a new religion, a new consciousness not a new doctrine. Enough of doctrines and enough of religions! Man needs a new consciousness.

And the only way to bring consciousness is to go on hammering from all the sides so that slowly slowly chunks of your mind go on dropping. The statue of a Buddha is hidden in you. Right now you are a rock. If I go on hammering, cutting chunks out of you, slowly slowly the Buddha will emerge. It takes time....

And there is no hurry either. I am not in a hurry, because the problem with hurry is: the more you are in a hurry, the more the whole thing is delayed. And if you are not in a hurry at all, things start happening sooner. I can wait for ever, I can wait infinitely. But the miracle is: if you can wait infinitely, things can happen instantly.

RIGHT NOW the Buddha can pop up in your consciousness; suddenly a bud can open and become a flower. And one never knows when it is going to happen so one has to simply go on working. And the work should never be thought of as work but as worship.

Working with you I am worshipping you. Talking to you I am loving you -- not giving you a doctrine but my heart. Handle it with care.

Be Still and Know