Drunk with awareness

From:
Osho
Date:
Fri, 11 September 1987 00:00:00 GMT
Book Title:
The Great Pilgrimage: From Here to Here
Chapter #:
10
Location:
am in Gautam the Buddha Auditorium
Archive Code:
8709110
Short Title:
PILGR10
Audio Available:
Yes
Video Available:
Yes
Length:
123 mins

Question 1:

BELOVED OSHO,

I WOULD LIKE TO BE IN SYNCHRONICITY WITH YOU. WOULD YOU MIND TELLING ME WHAT TIME IT IS, SO THAT I CAN SET MY WATCH BY YOURS?

Anand Vimal, it is not difficult for me to tell the time. But keeping your watch in synchronicity with my watch is not the real thing; your heart has to be in synchronicity with my heart. The watch will not help. Just for your consolation, on my watch it is eight- ten. But you have to synchronize with my heart, with my being.

And I know you are coming along, slow but steady... and the moment will come when your heart will beat with the same rhythm as my heart.

Your question is, in a way, significant. Superficially, it is stupid... but there have been many cases of enlightened people whose watches stopped when they died. Perhaps their disciples could not manage to synchronize with the master's heart, but their watch did.

One famous Zen master, Bokuju even told the people that, "when my watch stops, you can understand I am gone. It beats with my heart."

But this is not the case with me. I am in every way eccentric. Automatic watches simply stop on my hand -- because an automatic watch needs some movement, and I am so still.

Finally, I had to change from automatic watches and turn to quartz watches, because whether I am dead or alive they will continue. A battery does not know how to synchronize, but the automatic watch needs movement.

But I rarely make any movement and I don't keep the watch on my hand twenty-four hours -- just when I come to you, so that I remember now it is morning and I have to go to you; and in the evening when I come to you... just these four hours the watch is on my hand.

The remaining time I don't need to know what day it is, what date it is, what time it is.

My people love me so much that they know at what time they have to serve my lunch; at what time they have to put me in the bed; at what time they have to wake me up and push me into the bathroom.

And as far as days and dates are concerned, they are absolutely irrelevant to me. I have no need of any calendar. Even Neelam reminds me about the year, that it is 1987; otherwise, I have no concern. I am not in a hurry, not going towards a goal.

Once in a while, while speaking, I look at my watch; you must be thinking that I am looking at the time, but really I am looking to see whether the watch has stopped or not.

If it has stopped, it is better to stop now; if it is still running, I can manage.

It was a great surprise to scientists why many people's watches stopped when they died, exactly at that moment. Those watches were running in deep harmony with their heart; slowly, slowly those watches had become in a dance with the rhythm of the heart.

But, Vimal, making your watch run exactly as mine will not be of much help. You have to put your heart with my heart, you have to learn to dance with my being -- and that I cannot do. I can provide the opportunity, then it is all up to your intelligence, to take it or not to take it.

If you want to be in synchronicity with me, you have to be as drunk with awareness as I am. It is a strange drunkenness: you are fully aware and still you are as drunk with joy, blissfulness as no drunkard can be. You just look at my eyes: anybody will think I am drunk. You just listen to my words: anybody will think I am drunk.

I have not drunk even water for twenty years! I have been traveling around the country, and this country has such an ugly culture that in the same rivers buffaloes are enjoying their bath, donkeys are drinking, dogs are pissing and men are standing amidst them, chanting to God -- and that water is being used. It is absolutely polluted.

I have heard that America will destroy itself by its nuclear weapons, Russia will follow the same route, England will die because of its hypocrisy and its seriousness and France will die from its sexuality and sensuality. The person who was telling me, I asked him -- "Because I am here now in India, tell me of what India is going to die." He said, "Shitting all over the country!"

India is a big toilet. This is the only freedom India has -- freedom to shit anywhere. I wonder why they have not included it in the constitution? Where they talk about freedom of speech -- although nobody has anything to say -- they should have mentioned that everybody is free to urinate anywhere he wants; everybody is free to shit anywhere he wants. Those would have been realistic considerations.

Freedom of speech in this country? -- I have not seen a single person who can claim that he is a free thinker. They are learned, they are scholars, they can repeat scriptures, but free thinking? -- that does not exist, has not existed since Gautam Buddha. He was the last free thinker in this country. For twenty-five centuries, nobody has bothered to think.

In fact, nobody has time; raising children, creating more misery, more poverty, who has time to think?

I am certainly mad, because I am telling you to go beyond thinking, and you have not even started thinking! Here my work is first to make you start thinking... just to drop it.

You cannot drop anything if you don't have it. A beggar cannot say, "I have renounced the world." The fact is just the opposite: the world has renounced him. Only an emperor can say, "I have renounced the world" -- and it makes sense.

A few suggestions for you, Vimal.

Two drunks were staggering along the railway tracks. "My God!" said the first. "I've never climbed so many steps in my whole life!"

"It's not the steps that bother me," replied the other. "It's the low hand-rails."

Just get a little drunk! This temple belongs to drunkards... and I will know before you know whether your heart is in synchronicity with me or not. You have come a long long way -- just a few steps more.

The politician was trying to calm a group of angry farmers because he had not fulfilled any of his promises.

"If you put a bull into a field of cows one night," he declared, "you would not expect to get a lot of new-born calves in the morning, would you?"

"No," said a voice from the back of the hall, "but you would certainly expect to see a lot of contented faces."

Just looking at you, I know how you are growing. Just the contented faces, just the silence surrounding you... just the depth of your eyes going deeper, becoming oceanic...

just your gratitude to existence reaching to its peak. This is the language that I understand.

If somebody comes to me and says that he is absolutely in synchronicity with me -- that won't do, because that is not the language of synchronicity. Synchronicity speaks itself.

There is an ancient proverb, "Lies have to speak; truth remains silent." But lies deceive you forever, and the silent truth can become your eternal treasure. It has not said anything.

In deep silence you all synchronize with me, because silence knows no distinctions. In laughing together you synchronize with me, because laughter knows no boundaries. In understanding what I am saying and where I am leading you, you synchronize with me.

Watches won't do, Vimal. In fact, you don't want to synchronize with the watch; you want to synchronize with me. That happens as your meditation deepens, as your love becomes unconditional, without any expectations. Once it happens, it has happened forever.

And the synchronicity, the harmony with the master, does not think of contradictions, inconsistencies; those are all far below in the dark valleys. The moment you synchronize, you start rising towards the sunlit peaks, towards the stars.

It will happen.... The way I have been watching you, it is already happening. Don't bother about watches -- because what will you do if I don't have a watch? In fact, the watch I have is not mine. Even if you synchronize with it, you will be synchronizing with somebody else, whose watch I am wearing. People give me watches to wear while they are here, just to bless their watches, so they can rejoice when they go that they are going with something, some heartbeats of me. This is difficult for the outside world to understand.

Gayan makes my clothes. She could have been paid highly anywhere; she is a perfect seamstress. Here she gets nothing except my love. She works day and night -- but perhaps she has got the insight that there is nothing more valuable than the love of one who has arrived. His love will pull you also with invisible strings to the whole.

Everything I have does not belong to me. My shoes Arpita goes on making; my hats Veena goes on making. They rejoice that I am wearing their hats, their shoes, their dresses. Somebody brings a car and is grateful that I am using the car for coming to Buddha Hall. I could have come walking -- it is not such a great distance, just from one house to another house -- but then I would not have made somebody happy without any effort.

It is difficult for the outsiders to understand me. They have never known such a thing -- that anybody will give me their watches just to wear so that the watch starts vibrating with my heart, and then it becomes sacred to them.

One of the best television interviewers in America, Ted Koppel, asked me, "I cannot believe why people should go on giving you watches to wear, Rolls Royces to drive in.

And not one but ninety-three Rolls Royces, and thousands of watches!"

I said, "You don't know the ways of love."

He said, "But I have friends...."

I said, "A friend is one thing -- you don't have a master. You have never loved somebody more than yourself. The moment you love somebody more than yourself, then you are ready to do anything."

It does not matter whether it is valuable or not valuable... people from around the world go on sending me strange things, knowing perfectly well what I will do with them. Just the other day somebody sent a beautiful stone from Mount Sinai, where Moses met God, according to the theology of the Jews, so Mount Sinai has become a holy place.

I respect the idea, although the story may be false. The story may be just a story, but the person who sends a stone, packaged beautifully, has a tremendous love in his heart. What should he give to me? -- everything is trivial. But this stone from Mount Sinai, which is the only place God has ever spoken to any man, is holy. Although it is just a stone, because it is holy, somebody sends it to me.

I go on receiving all kinds of things, and I will go on distributing them to others. What will I do with them? -- I have come naked and I will go naked from the world. And I am still naked under my clothes, I know it!

I have been seeing you, watching you, Vimal. Perhaps you need a few sutras: they bring you closer to me. Seriousness separates; laughter brings closer.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can enjoy today....

If you enjoy it today, you can enjoy it tomorrow too. Why postpone it? Postponement is a disease of the mind; it always goes on saying, "Tomorrow"... particularly for significant things. Any trivia and rubbish it will do today, the significant can be done tomorrow. But that tomorrow never comes: all that comes is always today. And if you have become accustomed to postponing for tomorrow, you have postponed your life completely.

If you have two wives, that is bigamy; if you have many wives, that is polygamy; if you have one wife, that is monotony.

To avoid all these troubles, I don't have a wife! Polygamy will drive you mad; bigamy is enough to destroy your whole life -- and even monotony is powerful enough....

In my vision of a future humanity, there will not be polygamy, there will not be bigamy, there will not be monotony. Individuals will relate with each other, but will not create any relationship. They will remain free, independent individuals.

Now, Chamanlal is sitting before me -- he is from Amritsar -- and he loves me immensely. Very few people have loved me so deeply. I used to stay in Amritsar in his house. He is suffering from monotony: it has taken all his life and all his juice and all his joy. I have stayed in many, many houses all around the country, and it is always monotony.

One of my friends was rich enough... I asked him, "What are you going to do with so much money? Whether you have nine crore rupees or ten crore rupees it won't make any difference. With ten crore rupees you will not be happier than you are with nine crore rupees."

He said, "That's right."

I said, "Now you are fifty. This is the time to turn towards the mountains."

He was a courageous man; he stopped all his businesses, all his factories. When he met me next time, he said, "You have put me in such trouble."

I said, "Trouble?... I was thinking you were troubled continuously -- financing this, financing that, taking loans from the banks. I have put you out of all trouble."

He said, "That's okay -- but now I am suffering from monotony. I have only one wife and for thirty years... just seeing each other is enough torture!"

I told him, "Take a beautiful bungalow in a hill station and move there."

He said, "I can -- but you will have to come with me. If you are there then I don't care.

But if my wife and I are there, we will kill each other." They loved each other -- it is not that they were not loving people. They loved each other, but I could understand his psychology.

Having nothing to do, he opened a dharamshala -- a free house with two hundred bedrooms, for people who come to visit in his city to stay free of charge -- just to create some work for himself and to avoid his wife the whole day. So early in the morning he would go out -- and he was not earning anything... on the contrary he was losing, but he had enough to lose. He would return at ten or eleven in the night.

His wife told me, "You have stopped him from earning money. Now he is losing money, but still the same trouble; in the morning he goes, and in the night he comes back."

I said, "It is not the factories, it is you. Do you really want him -- be frank and sincere -- to to twenty-four hours in the house?"

She said, "No. I have taken a vow not to lie: it is good for an hour or two that we meet, but twenty-four hours... then it becomes heavy. Then we start torturing each other, knowing perfectly well that it is useless."

Every small child wonders why his father did not go into the ice cream business....

The great truth is that women actually like men, and men can never believe it.

Do you really believe your girlfriend likes you? When you see your face in the mirror, you cannot like yourself. Either the girl is an idiot, or... why should she like and love you?

But the reverse is also true: no woman believes that her lover really loves her. She thinks his desire is to possess, she thinks his one-pointed goal is to have a sexual object, available twenty-four hours. Prostitutes are costly, and you cannot depend on them. They are temporary -- temporary structures; you need a permanent, guaranteed relationship with a woman who cannot deny you. The women always suspect they are being used.... I cannot say that they are wrong, neither can I say that the men are wrong.

Love can exist only after meditation, not before it.

That is a simple existential law. Before meditation -- only lust, only sexuality. Before meditation you are an animal and not really a human being. With meditation a transformation comes: you become human, and out of your humanness, love flows.

And when the meditation reaches to the highest peak, the Everest of consciousness, then a new change happens. In science they say that a certain quantity brings a qualitative change. You boil water up to ninety-nine point nine degrees, and it will not start evaporating. It will evaporate only at one hundred degrees. Now, nobody can say why.

This makes life mysterious.

At a certain height, meditation -- when it becomes so easy for you to move into it that no thought hinders -- becomes as easy as breathing. Then comes a transformation, a second transformation: you are enlightened.

And parallel to it, from sex through meditation you move to love. From enlightenment you will become love. It will not be a question of loving anybody; it will be simply a question of your presence. Your presence will be love.

The moment one man's presence becomes love, he has fulfilled his destiny. There is nothing more beyond it. He has come to the beyond.

Home is the only place where you can scratch where it itches.

A diplomat is a man who can make his wife believe she would look fat in a mink coat.

Women like strong, silent men because they think they are listening.

Never look back -- something might be gaining on you.

I was twelve years old before I found out that "Shut Up" was not my real name.

It always pays to smile in the morning, because later in the day you may not feel like it.

Telling lies is a fault in a boy, an art in a lover, an accomplishment in a bachelor, and second nature in a married woman.

Vimal, you need not worry. Although I may not be able to see all the faces who are around here, I can certainly feel their heartbeat, whether they are part of my silence or just spectators, or they have come here just out of curiosity, or they are government CID informers. I can feel at least the heartbeat.

There are police officers, and naturally, they are the most afraid people here: somebody may recognize them. They have changed their dress... but you cannot change your heart. I don't care about your dress and about your uniform; my concern is with your inner being.

That you cannot change, because you don't know about it.

Question 2:

BELOVED OSHO,

FROM SOME BOOK I REMEMBER THIS SENTENCE: "FOR THE PILGRIM TO REACH HIS DESTINY, IT'S ESSENTIAL TO MOVE INSTANTLY, BUT WITHOUT HURRY. IT IS SO URGENT THAT HE REACHES HIS DESTINY, THAT THERE IS NO TIME TO HURRY."

COULD YOU PLEASE SPEAK ABOUT IF THERE IS ANY URGENCY, AND HOW THAT RELATES TO WAITING?

Rabia, you have got caught into a verbiage; otherwise the message is very simple. And it should be simple to you, because that's what I'm saying in many, many ways.

First... the situation is every moment urgent for the simple reason that you cannot rely on the next moment; whether it will come or not is not in your hands. So every moment we are living in urgency. If you want to do something, do it now and here, because how can you postpone it?

Secondly, you say, "From some book I remember this sentence: 'For the pilgrim to reach his destiny, it is essential to move INSTANTLY...'" Certainly if you want to come to yourself you should not lose a single moment, because there is always a possibility that death may interfere. But you must have got into trouble because the sentence certainly comes from some great mystic... "but without hurry."

Move instantly because it is urgent, but without hurry, because in hurry you are not together, in hurry you are always late, in hurry you forget the essentials, in hurry you need time. Just to be in a hurry you will require time -- and there is no time. This moment is all and all, and the situation is urgent.

You have been born without your agreement, without a contract, even without your permission; that was not in your hands. You will die without any advance information, without fixing a date and time -- that is not in your hands. Once dead you cannot complain; and not yet born you are nowhere. To whom should existence ask, "Do you want to be born or not?"

So what you have really got in your hands, solid and real, is only this moment, in which you can act intelligently or stupidly; in other words, in which you can act as a meditator or as a mediocre....

But the statement is really beautiful. You got into a puzzle because you cannot think what kind of madness this is. First you say it is urgent, and urgency creates hurry; then you deny that there should be hurry, but the question is so urgent that you should start instantly. You got puzzled into the words. I will tell you how one can get puzzled into beautiful words.

Two men met at a bar and struck up a conversation. After a while one of them said, "You think you have family problems? Listen to my situation. A few years ago I met a young widow with a grown-up daughter and we got married. Later, my father married my stepdaughter. That made my stepdaughter my stepmother, and my father became my stepson. Also, my wife became the mother-in-law of her father-in-law.

"Then the daughter of my wife, my stepmother, had a son. This boy was my half brother because he was my father's son, but he was also the son of my wife's daughter, which made him my wife's grandson. That made me the grandfather of my half brother.

"This was nothing until my wife and I had a son. Now the sister of my son, my mother- in-law, is also my grandmother. This makes my father the brother-in-law of my child, whose stepsister is my father's wife.

"I am my stepmother's brother-in-law; my wife is her own child's aunt, my son is my father's nephew and I am my own grandfather. And you think you have family problems?"

Just don't get caught into words!

The statement is very clear: the situation is urgent because you have no guarantee for the next second. You have to start instantly because you cannot postpone -- the future is not insured -- and yet you cannot be in a hurry because hurry takes time.

So silently, peacefully, without hurry, without any tension, without any anguish, move into yourself instantly. It is urgent. Unless meditation becomes urgent to you, it will never happen; you will die before it. Put meditation on your laundry list as the most important, urgent... number one.

But meditation in your life is just at the very end of your laundry list -- and the laundry list goes on becoming bigger and bigger. And before you finish your laundry list, you are finished, so the time for meditation never comes.

So I take that statement, whoever has made it, as tremendously significant. Rabia, don't try to understand the sentence; I have cut it into pieces clearly for you, so you are not confused.

There is no time for hurry, there is no time for worry; in a single moment what can you do? Only one thing: you can settle within yourself. That will be the great transformation of your being. And certainly it is the most urgent thing -- which we have been trying to postpone as long as possible.

Question 3:

BELOVED OSHO,

HOW IS IT THESE DAYS THAT THE MEN ALL SEEM TO BE GOING CRAZY, YET THE WOMEN JUST GO ON BECOMING MORE BEAUTIFUL, MORE SILENT, MORE GRACEFUL?

Milarepa, it is so simple... that I am amazed that you have asked it. When men go crazy then anything is beautiful. The beauty does not depend on the woman, the silence, the grace; it depends on your craziness.

But still it has some significance to be understood. It does not matter if you ask something stupid or idiotic, still I will give you a significant answer.

You are asking, "How is it these days that the men all seem to be going crazy, yet the women just go on becoming more beautiful, more silent, more graceful?"

A few fundamentals our men and our women all have to understand: one is that man's sexuality is positive, women's sexuality is negative. Negative is not a condemnation, it is just indicating the nature of their sexuality. Man is the donor and woman is the receiver.

My own experience of old-style Hindu monks, Jaina monks, Buddhist monks, Catholic priests is that they don't understand the nature of sexuality. They have a positive sexuality; they collect sperm and they don't have much space for it. They go on eating, they go on nourishing their body, they go on exercising, they go on doing everything that creates more sperms -- and the bag where the sperms collect has a very limited capacity.

That's why man can have only one orgasm at a time: just one shot, and his gun is empty!

But the woman has a negative sexuality. She can have multiple orgasms, because she is not losing anything in orgasm -- except she is getting tired of all the huffing and puffing, and the ugly beast on top doing push-ups! That's another thing, they get tired... they keep their eyes closed and they lie down almost like stone statues: "Let him do it, it is just a question of a few seconds. One can survive."

Within a few seconds the man is finished, but those few seconds are aggressive. His sexuality is aggressive; that's why if he cannot get a woman, he becomes crazy. What to do with his aggressive sex energy? It needs some outlet. That's why he finds all kinds of perversions. Strange... he goes to a woman, to a prostitute, just pays her and loses his energy -- a strange business!

One prostitute can have many customers in one night, because she does not lose energy; on the contrary, the more people are attracted towards her, she starts becoming more graceful, more beautiful. And on the other hand the man is in such a hurry to get rid of his energy, which is becoming a burden, that his eyes go blind. He starts looking at anything resembling a woman -- and suddenly he has found a Cleopatra or a Sophia Loren. His eyes are not clean and clear. A great fog is surrounding him because his sexual energy is so aggressive. It is bound to happen.

And why is the man's semen so overpowering? They have their own problems. In one sexual act a man releases nearabout one million living cells, and those one million living cells have a lifespan of only two hours. Once they are out of the body of the man, that is where politics is born: then one million cells are rushing, trampling over each other to reach to the woman's cell. And the woman has only one cell....

The woman's cell is non-aggressive; it can wait, there is no overburdening. Moreover the woman has every month a menstrual period in which that cell is released. Then for one month she is completely free from sexual desire. In one month another cell will come, another egg will come, so her situation is far more non-aggressive. You have not heard of any woman raping a man.

But man goes mad. He is going crazy because those cells want to get out. It is too crowded, they want a little open sky, a little air. Once they enter into the woman's body, a great marathon race starts, because only one will be able to reach to the cell. The cell, the egg of the mother, is constituted in such a way that it is very loose and very available, but the moment one male cell enters it, it naturally closes, becomes hard. Now no other cell can enter into it.

The passage of the woman's vagina to us seems to be very small, but to the poor male cell it is almost two miles long in proportion to his size. They have never traveled that much, so everybody is an amateur.

I have always wondered why the world is full of idiots and mediocres and fanatics, fundamentalists, fascists of all kinds and sorts -- they come in all sizes. My understanding is that when the man's cells start moving into the woman's body, the wiser ones stand aside. The intelligent ones don't want to mix with the crowd; only the boxers, football players, champions of all kinds of stupid games, wrestlers... they do their great job, rushing over each other. It is a question of life and death: if within two hours they don't reach first, their life is finished, within two hours they will be dead.

Only once in a while it happens that two wrestlers of equal strength reach to the woman's cell at the same time; that's why twins are born. Sometimes even seven children have been given birth -- I think nine is the record -- but it is very rare that out of a million people, nine will reach exactly at the same time, not a single minute, a single second, a split second behind. Then they all enter into the woman's egg.

The world is full of idiots and fools, bureaucrats, politicians, Don Quixotes and all kinds of stupids, competitors, competing in every field of life -- it may be money, it may be power, it may be prestige, it may even be saintliness. It is expected... these are the people who have won the first race.

The intelligent ones, the poetic, the silent, who could have become a Gautam Buddha, who could have become a poet like Rabindranath or Kahlil Gibran... We know -- it is a simple fact -- that intelligent people will not compete with this crowd, and the crowd is not small: one million....

Rabindranath was the thirteenth son of his father. We don't know how many Rabindranaths we have lost, and how many Albert Einsteins are never born, and how many Picassos, van Goghs, Mozarts have never been able to make the race. There are things which only idiots can do. Have you ever seen any wise man participating in a marathon race? Have you ever seen any enlightened one being competitive, begging for votes so that he can become the president?

The wise people keep aloof.

The idiots rule.

And the idiots are in the majority.

I was thinking, Why are they in the majority? -- but then I found that the first marathon race has created the whole trouble. And this situation will continue unless we are more intelligent and stop this accidental birth -- what I call accidental birth.

Now we are at a stage where genetic engineering can manage very easily to give us as many Rabindranaths, as many Picassos, as many Bodhidharmas, as many Nijinskys as we want, on demand, because in those one million cells all kinds of people are there.

The point is we should drop the old idea that you have to produce your son yourself.

Strange... you order your clothes from the best tailor, you purchase the best car, you make the most beautiful house -- not with your own hands. You don't insist that "I will make my car, I will make my house, I will make my clothes, I will make my food"... you will go insane. So why do we insist that the son should be ours? But just our old superstition continues.

According to me, each hospital, each medical college should have semen banks, just like blood banks. You can go and ask for what kind of child, boy or girl, what kind of face, what kind of color you want, how long a lifespan, what kind of intelligence -- poetic, scientific, mystic... you can ask for it. They will have categories sorted out, and your wife will be injected with just a single sperm.

I don't think there is anything wrong in it. You can go on making love, but you should use every birth control method. For birth you have to enquire to the medical authorities....

It will change the whole face of the earth. There will be so many intelligent people, creative people, loving people. It will raise the standard of life, it will raise the standard of health, it will bring about more inventions, more poetry, more sculpture, and it will make man no longer accidental, at the mercy of blind nature.

Then there is no need even to get married, because you will not be creating children of your own. The possibility is already accomplished that the child need not be raised in the mother's womb; the child can be raised in a mechanical womb, far more scientifically.

The best parents will be those who have chosen the best child, with the best qualities, with the best scientific womb, so when he comes out of the womb they can take him home.

This will do two things: the children will become so beautiful and so intelligent, so healthy, so long living, and also the parents will be unburdened.

Every parent is harassing the child to become great, to become Alexander the Great, to become Gautam Buddha. What can the child do? -- it is not in the program of his basic cell. So parents are disturbed because children don't listen to them, and children are unnecessarily harassed and hurt. They cannot forgive their parents their whole life for the way they have been treated in their helplessness, in their childhood.

What you are demanding of them they don't have in their basic program. Every human psychology is completely programmed, his physiology is completely programmed, and everything goes according to the program. There are no accidents. You can have as beautiful women in the world as you like; you can have as strong men in the world as you like.

Now it is within our hands.

Who is preventing it? Your priests and your politicians -- because they will be the ones who will lose all glamour. Far more intelligent people will be there, so these stupid politicians who know next to nothing...

I have seen education ministers who cannot even sign their names, and they are deciding the education for the whole country. I have seen finance ministers who don't know the meaning of finance, who have not any idea how the economy runs. I have seen soldiers who don't have any courage.

This whole society is upside down.

Milarepa, particularly amongst my people it is going to be this way. Man, unless he meditates, will go crazy -- crazy after women. And man finds meditation more difficult than the woman. Experienced mothers who have given two, three births can be asked before the birth and can say whether there is a girl or a boy in their womb, because a girl remains silent, and a boy starts playing football. He starts kicking here and there.

In meditation girls can enter deeper. On the one hand they can go deeper in meditation; on the other hand their sexuality is negative, it is not a compulsion on them.

I was amazed in my experience moving amongst all kinds of monks and nuns, because no monk is really celibate, but nuns are celibate. They can manage to be celibate; they don't have an aggressive sex, and moreover nature has provided that every month their sex energy goes out of their body automatically, they are clean again for one month. But man is in a difficulty. His sex energy can be subdued only by deeper meditation. Then he will not go crazy.

You have to understand another basic law: the woman looks more beautiful the more she runs away from you. She does not want to run away; she waits for you to come closer, and then she starts running again. She wants to be caught, but she is not going to take the initiative so that later on, after the honeymoon, when there will be continuous struggle, she can always say to you, "You were after me. I had never intended to marry you."

After the honeymoon all beauty disappears, because your sexual energy has gone down the drain. Even the most beautiful woman will no longer look beautiful to you because you have used her. You know her whole geography, you know her whole topography; now there is nothing to explore. And man is by nature an explorer, a hunter, an adventurer.

You may not have perceived that all the great cities, all the beautiful houses, all the beautiful gardens are not to man's credit; they are to be credited to woman. She never wanted to be a hunter, she never wanted to run continuously after animals, she never wanted to move. She wanted to live peacefully in a beautiful house surrounded with a beautiful garden.

But man basically is a nomad. That nomadness comes from his basic sexual cell. He is made of those sexual cells which keep telling him, "Go on, go on." He will go to all kinds of strange places for no reason, just because he needs money... and once he has money he starts traveling. A home he does not have.

You will see it in tourists: ninety percent are Americans, because they have so much money that what to do?... Go on, anywhere. And when they go on to the Taj Mahal or to Khajuraho or to Ajanta or to Ellora, they cannot stay there. They cannot watch the beauty silently, look at the great art that has taken thousands of years to make, thousands of people were involved to make it; they will simply go on running, taking photographs.

Back at home they will make a good album and then they will see how beautiful are the things they have seen. And they have not seen... they have only photographed! Those photographs could have been purchased from the market; there was no need to go around the world.

But man is a nomad. Woman is not.

In Hindi we have a word for the wife, gharwali, one who owns the home. But that word we cannot use for the man, who really owns it; nobody can say to any man, "You are gharwala." He has paid, he has earned the money, but the woman is called the owner of the home.

But it is exactly right. Man may have earned, but the woman has made the house. Woman has forced man to live a life settled, silent, peaceful, not to go on running like stray dogs from one place to another.

In my people's world, Milarepa, unless you are meditating deeply you will not be able to transcend your sexual craziness. And I can see -- I have been continuously observing -- women get into meditation quickly. It comes to them easily. The more meditative they become, they will become more beautiful, more serene, more calm, more quiet, more graceful.

But you, not doing meditation, not creating a state of no-mind, will fall a victim of jazz music or skinheads; you will do something stupid.

The doctor was explaining to Paddy how nature makes up for a person's deficiencies.

"For example," he told Paddy, "if a man is deaf, he may have very good eyesight, and if a man is blind, he may have a very good sense of smell."

"I think I see what you mean," said Paddy. "I have often noticed that if a man has one short leg, then the other one is always a little bit longer."

Great thinkers, coming to great conclusions!

The student demonstration had turned into a riot. Suddenly a man staggered out of the crowd carrying a limp girl in his arms.

"Here," shouted a cop running up to the man, "give her to me. I will get her out of this."

"The hell with you," replied the man, "go and find one of your own!"

Even in a riot, when people are being killed, shot, the man's mind remains continuously thinking of sex.

Sex is man's greatest bondage.

You have to make every effort for meditativeness, so that all your sexual energy, instead of moving downwards, starts moving upwards. Instead of finding a beautiful woman, start creating a beautiful man within you. Rather than finding a graceful woman, your energy can make you graceful.

But man is more stupid than woman. The whole of history has been made up by man, and you can see the madness: it is a history not of mankind, but of madness, wars, rape, burning living people, destruction. And now they have come to the peak; perhaps Ronald Reagan will be the last chapter of history -- although there will be no one to read it, and perhaps no one will be able to write it even.

A married couple took their little boy to the circus. During the gorilla act the husband had to go to the bathroom, and while he was gone, the little boy nudged his mother and said, "What is that long thing hanging down between the gorilla's legs?"

His mother was very embarrassed and said quickly, "Oh, that's nothing, dear."

When the husband returned, the wife went off to buy some popcorn, and while she was gone, the little boy nudged his father and said, "Daddy, what is that big thing hanging down between the gorilla's legs?"

The father smiled and said, "That son, is his penis."

The little boy looked puzzled for a moment and then said, "Then why did mummy just say it was nothing?"

"Son," said his father proudly, "I have spoiled that woman."

Okay, Vimal?

Yes, Osho.

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