Mind: An Expert Coward

Question 1:

Ajai Krishna Lakhanpal,

Pandit Satyavrata is well-known to me, but scholars are always cowardly. He is a great scholar - there is no doubt about it. In fact, reading his commentaries on the Upanishads I was amazed - amazed for the simple reason that a man who is not enlightened yet can have such a beautiful grasp of things which are beyond the intellect. He has been groping in the right direction, but because of his lack of courage he has not been able to take the jump, the quantum leap into the unknown.

The scholar lives in the mind, and the mind is always a coward. It clings to the past, to the familiar, to the known. Mind consists of the past, the familiar and the known. Mind has no experience of the present and no opening towards the future; it is utterly closed. Mind is like a seed, encapsulated, without any doors and without any windows. It is immensely afraid of the unknown. With the known it is very skilful, clever. With the known it can go on believing that "I am very superior." With the unknown it simply becomes utterly ignorant. The moment it encounters the unknown, a great fear arises in the mind; then again all your expertise is irrelevant.

That's why he has been coming on secret trips to Poona. He does not even come to the discourses openly; he tries to hide himself. But that's the way of the mind.

The heart has courage - the heart can fall in love; the mind cannot fall in love. And to be with me, even to understand me, is a love affair. It is not your intellect that is needed in order to understand, it is your intelligence. And remember the distinction between intellect and intelligence - it is vast, it is unbridgeable.

The intellect simply means a memory system, the intellect means a storage system for information.

Intelligence is a constant revolution, a transformation. Intellect consists of information, intelligence consists of transformation, a moment-to-moment transformation. Each moment one has to die to the past and one has to be born anew. Intelligence has the freshness of dewdrops in the early morning in the rising sun - dewdrops on a lotus petal, shining so fresh, so innocent, ready to evaporate. When the sun rises they will evaporate and disappear; they will not leave even a trace behind. Intelligence is always ready to die to the past because that is the only way to live in the present. There is no other way; there never has been, there will never be. And that's the problem with scholars.

He is certainly a noted scholar. I have loved his books, particularly on the Upanishads, tremendously.

It is a magical phenomenon that he has been able to write such beautiful treatises. And his grasp is only intellectual! He is not even able to believe that there is something like self-realization, and the Upanishads were born out of self-realization.

If he had been honest enough, he would not have even tried to write on the Upanishads. But scholars are not honest, they are cunning. They are not sincere and authentic people, their whole desire is to be famous and respectable. They write not because they have come to know something, they write because that brings ego-fulfilment. But you can see their stupidity in many ways. I have never come across a scholar who is not at the same time stupid; both things go in deep synchronicity.

A gentleman desirous of obtaining a parrot that could speak at least two languages kept searching for several months. He was searching for this parrot for his very scholarly wife to whom he wanted to give it as a present. His wife was a great linguist, hence he was searching for a parrot who knew at least two languages. His wife knew many and she was so skilful with languages - she was equally proficient in all the languages - that it was difficult to find out which language was her mother tongue.

One day the owner of the local pet shop called him and said that he had just such a parrot. On arriving at the pet shop, the owner informed the prospective customer that the parrot spoke not two languages but five.

He was delighted, immensely delighted, so he said, "Just send the cage and the parrot to my home.

My wife will be there to receive it."

When the purchaser arrived home at six o"clock that evening he asked his wife, "What's for dinner?"

"You ask?" she replied. "You sent it home this aftemoon."

"Do you mean to tell me, dear, that you cooked the parrot that I sent home? The one I"ve been searching for for you for such a long time? And did you know that the parrot could speak not just two languages but five?"

"Why then," asked his wife, "didn't he speak up?"

Scholars are never known to be intelligent; they are well-informed but immensely stupid at the same time. Scholarship is a way to cover your ignorance - it does not dispel ignorance, it only covers it up. And by covering it up you can deceive the world, but you cannot deceive yourself.

Pandit Satyavrata had come to see me ten or twelve years ago, and I could see the misery he was in because it is impossible to deceive yourself: you know that all that you know is borrowed, and the borrowed cannot fulfil you.

Moe: "Hi! Thought I"d drop in and see you about the umbrella you borrowed."

Joe: "Sorry, but I loaned it to a friend of mine. Did you want it?"

Moe: "No, but the fellow I borrowed it from says the owner wants it back."

Scholars go on living something that has been given from one generation to another for thousands of years, and the older it is the better it seems to them. The old is respected by the scholars, and with that which is old they become old. With all that ancient rubbish accumulating in their heads they become just garbage and nothing else.

But how can you deceive yourself? Deep down you know all the time that you have missed knowing, that light has not dawned upon you, that your inner being is absolutely dark. And as death starts coming closer, the knowledgeable person becomes more and more shaky.

When Pandit Satyavrata came to me I could see that trembling. He was trying to hide it, he was trying to pretend that he was not worried at all about enlightenment, but his whole concern was how to become full of light within. Knowledge had not helped, but knowledge helped in one way:

he became the Vice-Chancellor of a university; he was nominated for the parliament by the then president, Dr 5. Radhakrishnan - another of the same kind of stupid scholar; he wrote seventy-five beautiful books, and, as you say, he certainly is the most respected leader in the Arya Samaj.

The Arya Samaj was founded by another parrot, Swami Dayananda. He was far worse than Swami Vivekananda and certainly comes nowhere near J. Krishnamurti. He was just a scholar, a linguist, very clever at splitting hairs, very efficient at playing with words. And the whole of Arya Samaj is still carrying his nonsense. When the founder himself is not enlightened it is almost impossible to find enlightenment through his so-called wisdom, which is not wisdom at all but only knowledge, mere knowledge. He created many scholars, but he could not create a single man of enlightenment, a single man of the calibre of Gautam Buddha, Jesus Christ, Lao Tzu or Zarathustra. But many scholars have followed the footprints of Dayananda.

Satyavrata is certainly one of the most respected leaders in the Arya Samaj, so these are the two reasons why he cannot come here openly...

He sent a message to me that he wanted to see me in private. Why? - because he wanted to know something about meditation. But that is not something very private; you can ask it before others. But a great scholar, a respected leader of a religious cult is afraid that if his colleagues, friends come to know that he has been asking me what meditation is or how to meditate, then all his respectability will go down the drain.

In fact, to be associated with me is risky, very risky, dangerous. I am notorious! To be with me one has to be at least capable of being notorious. I don't care at all for respectability - I am not a leader, I don't belong to any cult, any creed, any dogma - I am simply saying what I have known. Whether your scriptures support it or not is beside the point: if they agree with me it is good for them, if they don't agree with me then it is their misfortune. But I am not at all interested in being supported by the tradition, by scriptures, by religious leaders by political leaders, I stand my own ground. And I have known my original face, so I don't care about public opinion.

That is his problem: first, he is a great scholar. How to ask a question? - because the question shows your ignorance: that you don't even know what meditation is all about and you have been writing on the Upanishads, which are nothing but pure meditation!

And then he is afraid of losing his respectability in the Arya Samaj. I have spoken again and again against Dayananda, so the Arya Samajists are absolutely against me. He will lose his leadership, and at the age of eighty-two it becomes more and more difficult to risk; one loses all courage. Death is knocking on the doors, how can you be courageous? So of course he admires me, but he can only admire me secretly.

You say, Ajai Krishna Lakhanpal: HE TOLD ME THAT HE DOESn't KNOW WHETHER THERE IS ANY SUCH THING AS SELF-REALIZATION...

He may not have ever thought that you would put it in a question to me. Now it will be known all over the world! What he was hiding, you have made open. He certainly does not know that there is any such thing as self-realization because he has never meditated. It is an experience, and unless you drown in it, become utterly drunk with it, you cannot know it.

When you go back, tell him there is still time, because meditation can be learnt at any age, even on the deathbed. Meditation does not need any effort, it needs relaxation. It does not need any muscular power, all that it needs is a restful consciousness. Hence it can be done by a child, it can be done by a young man, it can be done by an old man, very easily. It is the simplest phenomenon in the world.

Self-realization is not difficult at all. It appears to be difficult because we never try to get in tune with our own being. We have forgotten the language, that's all, but it can be remembered.

When you go back to him tell him to meditate. Even though he is old it can still happen. It is never too late, there is always time, because it can happen in an instant. It does not take time to happen; it is not a gradual process.

Self-realization is a process of sudden enlightenment. If one can relax totally in the moment, if one can put the mind aside and just BE... silent, aware... one can become self-realized at the last moment of life too.

When you go back to him give him this message and tell him, "Now you are eighty-two years old, don't be afraid of losing your respectability, soon you will be losing your life! And don't be worried about your so-called scholarship and your learnedness; all will be taken away by death. It is better to drop it on your own - that's what meditation is - rather than to allow death to snatch it away. Then it hurts. If you drop it on your own it does not hurt at all, it becomes a flowering. When death takes it away it leaves a wound behind. When you drop it there is grace, there is freedom; an immense weightlessness arises in you.

And certainly he loves me, he respects me, if he says that:

IF THERE IS ANY PERSON WHO IS REALIZED THEN HE FEELS THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON WHO IS REALIZED - FAR BEYOND J. KRISHNAMURTI AND SWAMI VIVEKANANDA.

Then he should gamble a little bit with me! Then he should risk a little bit. Then he should walk a few steps with me, and I promise him that it can happen. It cannot be explained, but I can help him to experience it.

And you say: HOWEVER HE CANNOT PRAISE YOU OPENLY AS THE ARYA SAMAJ PEOPLE WOULD BE UPSET AND FLABBERGASTED.

So what? Let them be upset and flabbergasted - that is their problem! Soon he will be dying and then these Arya Samaj people are not going to go with him, remember. If he can have a communion with me, that will be something that he can carry beyond death. If he learns meditation, then he will have some riches that cannot be destroyed by death. Otherwise power, prestige, money, respectability, scholarship, all will be burnt in the funeral pyre, and you will be going naked, empty- handed.

I can help you to become so over-full with the inner, with the transcendental, that death will be absolutely incapable of destroying it.

You say: HE LOVES YOUR VEGETARIANISM, BUT FEELS THAT THE EXPRESSION OF LOVE THAT HAPPENS SO OPENLY AND SPONTANEOUSLY AMONGST YOUR SANNYASINS AMOUNTS TO NON-VEGETARIAN CANNIBALISM.

Vegetarianism is the only thing that traditional people can easily appreciate in my commune, hence I am thinking to drop it! My reasons are totally different from their reasons: my commune is vegetarian purely for aesthetic reasons - it is ugly to kill. It is just an aesthetic approach. I have no religious antagonism towards non-vegetarian food, because the soul is never killed - that's what all these religions say. The logical conclusion will be: then non-vegetarian food is not a religious problem at all. You are simply separating an animal's body from his soul - making his soul free of the body, helping his soul to be released from the body. That is the logical conclusion of all their so-called immortality of the soul. If the soul is immortal then why be so worried about killing? Then there is no problem. The soul will find another body somewhere maybe a better body, a younger body, more vital.

But many people, particularly Indian vegetarian people, the Jainas and the few brahmins - and he is a Punjabi Saraswat brahmin, one of the topmost brahmins of India - they can appreciate the vegetarianism of my commune, but their reasons are different.

In the new commune I have the idea that it should be optional, because I don't want to be associated in any way with tradition. If only this thing is there for the traditionalists to enjoy, I will drop that too.

So tell him that if he is alive he will come to know... My people come from non-vegetarian countries and they are suffering immensely. Now, my aesthetic sense says I should not make them suffer so much. Protecting the animals and killing my own people does not seem to be right! They are suffering from many diseases simply because of vegetarian food. Their bodies are accustomed to non-vegetarian food, they have been brought up with that, and the sudden change of climate and the sudden change of food is such a drastic change that it disturbs their whole balance.

So in the new commune it will be optional: those who want to be vegetarian can be vegetarian, those who want to be non-vegetarian can be non-vegetarian. And then there will be nothing left for the traditionalists to appreciate!

I want to destroy all the bridges. Tell him that I am thankful that he reminded me of it.

And he also says: THAT THE EXPRESSION OF LOVE THAT HAPPENS SO OPENLY AND SPONTANEOUSLY AMONGST YOUR SANNYASINS AMOUNTS TO NON-VEGETARIAN CANNIBALISM.

That is true. Love is tasting the other. If you go deeper into each other it is eating the other, it is "non-vegetarian cannibalism".

Moe: "What do you call a person who is fed up with people?" Joe: "A cannibal."

The cannibal chief was preparing to cook the missionary who had been captured the day before.

"You shouldn't eat him," one of his advisors said. "He is a missionary - a religious man."

"That's the reason I'm doing it," the chief said. "I think my people should have a taste of religion."

And, in fact, discipleship, the very phenomenon of disciplehood is a kind of cannibalism. The relationship between the Master and the disciple is pure cannibalism! Jesus says to his disciples, "Eat me. Drink me." And that's what I go on saying: Eat me, drink me, digest me, so that I can become your blood, your bones, your very marrow. The disciple has to eat the Master - about that he is right.

And finally you say: WHY, OSHO, DO YOU HAVE SO MANY SECRET ADMIRERS?

Because this country consists of cowards, otherwise for twenty-two centuries they would not have been slaves.

And you say: AT LEAST I AM COURAGEOUS ENOUGH TO BE YOUR OPEN ADMIRER, EVEN THOUGH YOU CHOOSE TO CALL ME A COWARD.

Yes, Ajai Krishna Lakhanpal, I call you a coward, because those who are not open admirers, I don't know anything about. But I know about you because you are an open admirer. And if you have that much courage, then don't be cowardly at all now then go the whole way, headlong!

Pandit Satyavrata is very old, eighty-two years old; not much can be e Calling you a coward is just a device. But you are being cunning too. Since I called you a coward you have been telling my sannyasins, "What can I do? I want to be a sannyasin, but Osho has said that I am a coward, and he must be right. And he has also said that even if I ask for initiation into sannyas he will not give it to me." This is a rationalization on your part. You have been telling people, "Osho has said that this is an agreement and he will not break it, so how can I ask for sannyas?"

Just try, and see what happens! My memory is not very good. I have completely forgotten what agreement you are talking about. Moreover I am crazy - I can break any agreement.

A Jewish mental patient was causing quite a stir in the institution because he would not eat the food.

"I'm kosher!" shouted Moskowitz. "I won't eat this food. I want kosher meals!"

So the staff hired a Jewish woman from the community to cook special kosher meals for Moskowitz.

Everybody was envious, for Moskowitz's meals were much better than theirs.

Friday night rolled around, and Moskowitz pushed back his chair after a delicious chicken dinner and lit up a big black cigar. This was too much for the director, who called Moskowitz into his office.

"Now, see here, Moskowitz. You"re getting away with murder. You get the best meals because you claim you only eat kosher food. And now, on Friday night, on your Sabbath, you flout your religion and smoke a cigar!"

Moskowitz merely shrugged his shoulders. "Why are you arguing with me?" he said. "I'm crazy, ain't I?"

Ajai Krishna Lakhanpal, just ask, and see what happens - whether I keep my agreement or not. I am not a man of words, I am a man of silence!

The second question

Question 2:

Ayatollah Rahunah Hamidullah,

This is not true. They are of the purest Aryan stock - with a few pinches of Aryan, Greek, Moghul, Tartar, a pinch of Turkoman, a pinch of Caucasian, a pinch of Armenian, a pinch of Jewish, a few traces of Slav, a taste of Kurdish and a few handfuls of Turkish and of Arab. Otherwise they are quite pure!

TWO: IT IS BELIEVED THAT NOTHING GOOD HAS EVER COME OUT OF THE COUNTRY.

Hamidullah, this is not true. Humanity has been enriched by Zarathustra, Sanai, Hafiz, Omar Khayyam, Shams el-Tabriz, petrol, carpets, Jalaluddin Rumi, and especially Mulla Nasruddin and the five o"clock shadow.

THREE: IT IS BELIEVED THAT NADIR SHAH WAS A BLOOD-THIRSTY WAR-MONGER.

Hamidullah, not true. He only made war on India and only one hundred and twelve times.

FOUR: IT IS BELIEVED THAT IRANIANS ARE RUTHLESS IN BUSINESS.

Hamidullah, this is not true. It is the Jew in them.

FIVE: IT IS BELIEVED THAT THEY ARE "WISHY-WASHY".

Hamidullah, this is not true either. But it is true that they never say no and never say yes, and vice versa.

SIX: IT IS BELIEVED THAT THEY ARE GAMBLERS, DRUNKARDS, SEX MANIACS AND HOMOSEXUALS.

Hamidullah, absolute nonsense! They drink to purify their souls, they gamble to share their wealth.

As for sex - it is the Arab in them. And as far as homosexuality is concerned - only very rarely, when they run out of hostages.

SEVEN: IT IS BELIEVED THAT THEY ARE RAPISTS.

Hamidullah, just rubbish! They do it only by mutual consent, except that they don't take no for an answer.

EIGHT: IT IS BELIEVED THAT THEY ARE NOT TRUE MUSLIMS.

Hamidullah, this is not true at all. Iranians are exemplary Muslims: they never swear, gamble, drink or rape inside a mosque.

NINE: IT IS BELIEVED THAT NOTHING HAS MOVED SINCE KHOMEINI'S ISLAMIC REVOLUTION.

Hamidullah, absolutely false! This revolution has moved the whole of Iran five hundred years backwards.

AND THE LAST: AS FOR YOUR MENTION OF IRANIANS NEVER UNDERSTANDING ANYTHING, OSHO, THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT TRUE! ACTUALLY, I'M NOT QUITE SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY THIS STATEMENT. COULD YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE MORE?

Hamidullah, explaining it a little more will not help, it will only create a little more confusion in you.

So I will tell you a few jokes. If you get them, good; if you don't get them, others will get them and enjoy.

First:

It was a great tragedy. In his will the old Iranian asked that when he died his two sons should bury him at sea. But they drowned trying to dig his grave.

Second:

The old Iranian, aged seventy-five, visits his doctor and says, "Well, Doc, I think I"ve become impotent."

The doctor asks, "When did you notice that?"

The Iranian answers with a sigh, "Last night, twice, and this morning once."

And the last:

Two Iranian deaf-mutes were sitting in a car in New York conversing in sign language. "Let's pick up a couple of chicks and get laid!" signed one.

"Great!" signed the other.

Soon they had spotted and picked up two girls who were also deaf mutes. "How about a little loving?" indicated one of the men.

"Fine," the girl signed back, "but do you have any contraceptive?"

"No, damn it! Let's stop at the nearest drugstore and get some," was the reply.

At the next corner they stopped and one of the men got out. Twenty minutes passed, then half an hour... finally the man came back with a dazed expression on his face.

"What happened? What took you so long?" the other signed.

"Well," he replied, "I went in and showed the man that I wanted some contraceptives and he said, "The baby bottles are down that aisle." Seeing that he didn't understand, I made gestures indicating the love act. He said, "The hot water bottles are on the left." In desperation, I unzipped my pants and laid my machinery on the counter, placing a dollar beside it. At first he was bewildered, but then a look of comprehension came over his face. So he unzipped his pants, laid his machinery on the counter and pocketed the dollar - his machinery was two inches longer!"

The third question

Question 3:

Akam,

I don't know Murphy's version of the golden rule, but I can guess. I know the man! He will say: Never do unto others as you would like others to do unto you, because their tastes may be different.

And here are a few sutras of Murphy.

First: It all started in the garden of Eden when man came first - and woman has been late ever since.

Second: You can't tell how deep a puddle is until you step in it.

Third: There is never enough time to do it right, but there is always enough time to do it over.

Fourth: Whatever the person at the next table orders, it always looks better than yours.

Fifth: Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn't have to do it himself.

Sixth: Eat dessert first, because life is so uncertain.

Seventh: If everything seems to be going well you obviously don't know what is going on.

Eighth: Never excel today - you may have to live up to it tomorrow.

Ninth: No matter how many ways you perceive that a procedure can go wrong and circumvent them, another way will always develop.

Tenth: Any woman who says, "It's a safe time of the month," will give birth almost nine months later.

Eleventh: You cannot lose an old or damaged golf ball, only a new one.

Twelfth: A short cut is the longest distance between two points.

Thirteenth: When an error has been detected and corrected it will be found to have been correct in the first place.

Fourteenth: An object will fall so as to do the most damage.

Fifteenth: Toothaches tend to start on Saturday night.

Sixteenth: A bird in the hand is safer than one overhead.

And seventeenth: The first myth of religion is that it exists.

And the last question

Question 4:

Mira Asango and Anand Geho,

This is the joke for your parents:

"I have some grave news, Abe," said the doctor. "You have only twelve hours to live."

Abe went home to break the news to his wife. "Rosie, darling, the doctor says I have only twelve hours more to live," he announced.

"In that case honey " replied Rosie "I am your slave for the next twelve hours. Your wish is my command!"

First they went to Abe's favourite Chinese restaurant, then they came home and watched Abe's favourite television programme, and then they made love before falling asleep.

At two in the morning Abe woke up in a cold sweat. He had one more hour to live. He nudged Rosie and said, Wake up, Rosie, wake up! I want to make mad and passionate love to you one last time!"

"Well," grumbled Rosie, "It's okay for you, Abe, but I have to get up in the morning!"