I am enough alone

Question 1:

The question is from Somendra.

When you are really in communion with me, you cannot speak. When you are really listening to me, you will lose your voice because in that moment I am your voice. The communion that happens between me and you is not between two persons. It is not a discussion, it is not a debate, it is not an argument, it is not even a dialogue. The communion happens only when you are lost, when you are not there. At the highest peak it is not even an 'I-thou' relationship. It is not a relationship at all. I am not, and there comes a moment to you also, when you are not. In that moment two zeros disappear into each other.

That's why, Somendra, whenever you come to me, you lose your voice. And it is not happening only to you, it is happening to all those who are really coming closer to me.

How can you come closer to me and still keep your voice? How can you be near me and still be yourself? Your voice is the voice of YOU. When the 'you' starts disappearing, naturally, the voice also starts disappearing.

Secondly, there is nothing to say. When you are in love with me, you know that if there is something to say, I will know. And if I don't know it, then it is not needed, then it must be some irrelevant, vagrant thought. It has no need even to be uttered; it will be a sheer wastage of energy.

The mind goes on catching a thousand and one thoughts from everywhere, from all sources. All your thoughts are not yours; thoughts go on jumping from one head into another - even without talking, even without being conveyed. Thoughts are continuously jumping from one head to another head. You catch hold of them, and for a moment you are possessed by the thought and you think it is something essential. When you come to me, suddenly those thoughts that you have caught from others disappear.

It happens to many sannyasins. They come ready with many questions, and then, just sitting in front of me, they are at a loss those questions have disappeared. It is significantly meaningful. It shows that those questions were not yours, they were not TRULY yours.

When you are in front of me - really in front of me - when you are looking at me, only that which is essential will be left; the non-essential will go. Sometimes all your thoughts can disappear: not only do you lose your voice, you lose your mind too. And that is the only way to be around a Master. Go on losing your mind.

Hang loose, relaxed, untense. There is nothing to say. There is much to listen to, but there is nothing to say.

And then, thirdly, everything is going so well with Somendra. We only say things when things are not going well.

I have heard...

A mother complained to several doctors of her five-year-old's failure to speak. Examinations yielded the fact that he was a remarkably healthy child, and she was told not to worry. But worry she did.

One day, in a hurry, she burned his oatmeal but served it anyway. He tasted it, spat it out, and said 'God, this stuff is awful. You must have burned it.'

Delighted, she said 'You're talking! Why haven't you said anything before this?'

He looked at her with some disdain and said 'Well, everything has been all right up to now!'

And everything has been all right up to now with Somendra. There is nothing to say.

Question 2:

The question is from Anand Samagra.

The first thing to be understood: you will be surprised to know that the Buddha statues have nothing to do with Gautam Buddha. They are all false, they don't resemble Buddha at all, but they have something to do with buddhahood. Not with Gautam Buddha, the person - they have something to do with buddhahood.

You can go into a Jain temple and you will see twenty-four statues of twenty-four TEERTHANKARAS, the founders of Jainism, and you will be unable to make out any difference between them; they are all alike. To make a distinction, Jains make small symbols on them to know who is who, because they are all alike. So if somebody's symbol is a line figure, then just underneath the feet is a small line figure. Then they know whose statue this is. Somebody's symbol is a snake - then they know whose statue this is. If those symbols were hidden, not even a Jain could make any demarcation.

Whose statue is this? Mahavir's? Parswanatha's? Adinatha's? And you will also be surprised to know that they are exactly like Buddha - no difference.

In the beginning, when the West became acquainted with Mahavir, they thought it was nothing but the same story of Buddha, because the statue is the same, the philosophy is the same, the understanding is the same, the teaching is the same - so it was just the same thing; it was nothing different from Buddha. They thought Mahavir was another name for Buddha. And of course both were called Buddhas - 'Buddha' means 'the awakened one' so Buddha was called Buddha and Mahavir was also called Buddha. And both were called Jains - 'Jain' means the 'conqueror', one who has conquered himself. Buddha is called 'the Jain' and Mahavir is called 'the Jain', so they thought that they were just the same person.

And the statues were a great proof: they look absolutely alike. They are not photographic, they don't represent a person, they represent a certain state. You will have to understand it, then the thing will be explained.

In India, three words are very important: one is TANTRA, which we are talking about, another is MANTRA, and the third is YANTRA.

TANTRA means techniques for expanding your consciousness. MANTRA means finding your inner sound, your inner rhythm, your inner vibration. Once you have found YOUR MANTRA, it is of tremendous help: just one utterance of the MANTRA and you are in a totally different world. That becomes the key, the passage, because once uttering that MANTRA, you fall into your natural vibe.

And the third is YANTRA. These statues are YANTRAS. YANTRA means a certain figure which can create a certain state in you. A certain figure, if you look at it, is bound to create a certain state in you.

Have you not watched it? - looking at a Picasso painting you will start feeling a little uneasy.

Concentrate on a Picasso painting for half an hour and you will feel very bizarre - something is going crazy. You cannot look at a Picasso painting for half an hour. If you keep Picasso paintings in your bedroom you will have nightmares. You will have very dangerous dreams: being haunted by ghosts, tortured by Adolf Hitler and things like that; a war victim in a concentration camp - things like that.

When you watch something, it is not only that the figure is outside - when you watch something, the figure creates a certain situation in you. Gurdjieff used to call this 'objective art'. And you know it: listening to modern pop music, something happens in you - you become more excited sexually.

There is nothing but sound outside, but the sound hits inside - creates something in you. Listening to classical music, you become less sexual, less excited. In fact, with great classical music you almost forget sex, you are in a tranquility, a silence, a totally different dimension of your being. You exist on another place.

Watching a Buddha statue is watching a YANTRA. The figure of the statue, the geometry of the statue, creates a figure inside you. And that inside figure creates a certain vibe. It was not just imagination that happened to you, Samagra, in the Frankfurt museum; those Buddha statues created a certain vibe in you.

Watch the state of Buddha sitting so silently, in a certain yoga posture. If you go on watching the statue, you will find something like that is happening within you too.

If you are in company where ten persons are sad, and you are the eleventh person, how long can you remain happy? Those ten persons will function like a YANTRA, a YANTRA of sadness: you will fall into sadness sooner or later. If you are unhappy and you go into company where people are joking and laughing, how long can you remain sad? Those laughing people will create laughter in you. They will change your focus, they will change your gear; you will start moving in a different direction. This happens every day - knowingly, unknowingly.

When you watch a full moon, what happens to you? Or when you listen to the birds and look at the green trees, what happens to you? When you go into a forest and look at the greenery, what happens to you? Something green inside starts happening. Green is the colour of nature, green is the colour of spontaneity, green is the colour of life - something green starts happening in you. The outer colour reflects something inside, vibrates with something inside, creates something inside.

Looking at a green tree you become more alive... you become younger!

When you go to the Himalayas and you see the mountains, the snow-capped mountains - eternal.

snow which has never melted, the purest snow where no man has ever walked, uncontaminated by human society and human touch - when you look at a Himalayan peak, that uncorrupted, virgin snow creates something virgin in you. A subtle peace starts happening inside.

The outer is not the outer, and the inner is not just the inner; they are joined together. So beware of what you see, beware of what you listen to, beware of what you read, beware of where you go - because all that creates you.

That's what happened in Frankfurt. The Buddha statues, the many statues all around you created a certain geometry. You will be surprised: that is the basic reason why statues were created. They are not idols, as you think. The Christian and the Mohammedan and the Judaic idea has given a very wrong notion to the world. They are not idols, they are very scientific. They are not objects to be worshipped, they are geometries to be imbibed. It is a totally different thing.

In China there is one Buddha temple which has ten thousand Buddha statues, all Buddha statues.

Wherever you look - the same figure. The ceiling has the same figure, all the sides have the same figure, the walls have the same figure. Ten thousand Buddha statues! Just think, sitting cross-legged in a Buddha posture and you are also surrounded by ten thousand Buddhas! It creates a geometry.

From everywhere Buddha impinges upon you. From every nook and corner he starts surrounding you. You are gone. Your ordinary geometry is no longer there. Your ordinary life is no longer there.

For a few moments you are moving on higher planes, at higher altitudes.

That's what is happening here. While listening to me something is created - by my presence, by my words, by your attitude, by so many orange people around you. It is a situation, it is a temple.

A temple is a situation. It is not just that you are sitting in a lecture hall. So many people listening to me with such love, gratitude, with such silence, with such sympathy, with such rapport this place becomes holy. This place becomes a TEERTHA; it is sacred. When you come into this place you are riding on a wave, you need not make much effort. You can simply allow it to happen. You will be taken away, far away to the other shore.

A marriage broker arranged with a family to bring over a girl he thought would be a fine match for their son. After dinner, the girl left and the family began to attack the marriage broker.

'What kind of a girl did you bring? A monster! One eye in the middle of her forehead, the left ear way up here, the right ear way down there and the chin way back!'

The marriage broker interrupted. 'Look, either you like Picasso or you don't!'

Modern painting represents the ugly in existence. The ugly has become predominant for a certain reason. This century is one of the ugliest centuries: two world wars within fifty years; millions of people killed, destroyed; such cruelty, such aggression, such violence, such madness; this century is a nightmarish century. Man has lost track of his humanity.

What man has been doing to man! Naturally this madness has erupted everywhere - in painting, in music, in sculpture, in architecture - everywhere the ugly human mind has created ugliness.

Ugliness has become an aesthetic value. Now the photographer goes and looks for something ugly. Not that beauty has stopped existing, it exists as much as before, but it is neglected. The cactus has replaced the rose. Not that the cactus is something new, it has existed always, but this century has come to know that thorns seem to be more real than a rose flower. A rose flower seems to be a dream; it does not fit with us, hence the rose flower has been expelled. The cactus has entered your drawing-room. Just one hundred years ago nobody would have ever thought to bring a cactus home. Now, if you are modern, your garden will be full of cactuses. The rose looks a little bourgeois; the rose looks a little out-of-date; the rose looks Tory, orthodox, traditional. The cactus looks revolutionary. Yes, the cactus is revolutionary - like Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin and Mao Tsetung and Fidel Castro. Yes, the cactus seems to be closer to this century.

The photographer looks for some ugly thing - he will go and photograph a beggar. Not that the beggar has not existed before, he HAS existed before. He is REAL, certainly real, but nobody has been making art out of him. We are feeling humble before the beggar; we are feeling apologetic before the beggar; we are feeling that something which should not be is still there; we want the beggar not to be there. But this century goes on searching for the ugly.

The sun still penetrates the pines on a certain morning. The rays penetrating the pines create such a web of beauty. It still exists, but no photographer is interested that no longer appeals. Ugliness appeals because we have become ugly. That which appeals to us shows something about us.

Buddha is a rose flower: that is the highest possibility. And remember, it is not exactly a Buddha figure; nobody knows what Buddha looked like. But that is not the point. We were not interested in those days, at least not in the East, we were not interested in the real at all; we were interested in the ultimately real. We were not interested in the factual; we were interested in truth itself.

Maybe Buddha's nose was a little longer, but if the artist thought that a nose which was a little smaller would be more in tune with meditation, then he dropped that long nose of Buddha - he made it a little smaller. Maybe Buddha had a big belly. Who knows? Japanese Buddha statues have big bellies, but Indian Buddhas don't have big bellies - different attitudes.

In Japan they think that a meditator has to breathe from the belly, from the navel. And when you breathe from the belly, the belly of course becomes a little bigger. Then the chest is not as protruding as the belly; the chest is relaxed. So Japanese Buddhas have big bellies. That too is for a certain reason: to indicate to you that belly-breathing is the right breathing. It has nothing to do with Buddha; nobody knows whether he had a big belly or not.

Indian statues don't have big bellies, because Indian yoga does not insist on belly-breathing: the belly has to be in. That too has a certain different reason. If you want the sexual energy to move upwards, then it is better not to belly-breathe. When the belly is pulled in, the energy is sucked upwards more easily - different techniques.

Belly-breathing is also good for a certain meditator - it is very relaxing. But then the energy cannot move in the same way as it moves when the belly is pulled in. The Indian statues of Buddha have small bellies - almost no bellies. Nobody knows exactly how Buddha looked. The statues are very feminine, very round; they don't look masculine. Have you ever seen any statue with a moustache and beard? No, the people who painted Jesus were more realistic. The people who painted Buddha were not concerned with facticity, they were concerned with ultimate truth. They were not concerned how Buddha looked, they were concerned how Buddhas should look. The emphasis was not on Buddha but on the people who would be looking at these statues - how this statue was going to help those people.

So Buddha is not painted as old. He must have become old, he became eighty-two. He was very old - certainly, very old and ill - a physician had to follow him continuously. But no statue has painted him as old, ill, because that is not the point. We are not interested in the physical body of the Buddha, we are interested in his inner geometry. That inner quality of Buddha is always young, it is never old. And it is never ill, it is always in a state of well-being; by its very nature it cannot be ill.

The body is young, the body is old, the body becomes crippled, the body dies. Buddha is not born, never dies: Buddha remains eternally young.

Looking at a young statue, something of youth will happen in you, and you will feel something fresh.

Now, Indians would never have preferred Jesus to be pictured, painted, sculptured on the cross. It is ugly, it is sad. Even if it is historical, it is not worth remembering because whatsoever you think has happened, you tend to help it happen again. There is no obligation towards facts: we don't owe anything to the past, we need not remember the past as it was. It is in our hands to choose the past - to choose the past in such a way that a better future can be created.

Yes, Jesus was crucified, but if he were crucified in India, we would not have painted that. Even on the cross we would have painted a totally different thing. The Western painting is of Jesus in anguish, in sadness - naturally, he is being killed. When you watch, when you concentrate, meditate, on Jesus, you will feel sad. It is not accidental that Christians say that Jesus never laughed. And it is not accidental that you are not allowed to dance and laugh and be gay in a church. Church is a serious affair: you have to be very serious... long faces. In fact, when Jesus is crucified just there on the altar, how can you laugh and sing?

In India you can sing and laugh and enjoy. Religion is a merriment, a celebration.

The whole point is that the Western mind is historical, the Eastern mind is existential. The West pays too much attention to mundane facts, the East never pays any attention to history. You will be surprised to know that until Western people came to India, India had not known anything like history.

We have never written history, we have never bothered about it. That's why we don't know when exactly Buddha was born, when exactly he died - we have never paid much respect to facts. Facts are mundane! What does it matter whether he was born on Monday or Tuesday or Thursday? What does it matter? How does it matter? In fact, it does not matter at all - any day will do, and any year will do. That is not the point. The point is: WHO was born? Who was this man in his innermost core?

History thinks about the periphery, myth thinks about the innermost core. India has written mythology but not history. We have PURANAS. PURANAS are mythology, they are not histories. They are poetic, mystic visions of how things should be, not how they are. They are the vision of the ultimate.

And Buddha is the vision of ultimate SAMADHI.

Those Buddha statues you saw in the Frankfurt museum are the states of inner silence. When a person is absolutely silent, he will be in that state. When everything is still and quiet and calm inside - not a thought moves, not a small breeze blows; when everything has stopped, time has stopped - then you will also feel to sit like a Buddha. Something of the same geometry will happen to you.

It is objective art - less concerned with the reality of Buddha, more concerned with those people who will be coming and will be seeking Buddhahood. The emphasis is different: what will happen to those who watch these statues, and will kneel down before these statues, and will meditate on these statues.

In India there are temples like Khajuraho where all sorts of sexual postures are sculptured. Many postures are so absurd that even a de Sade or a von Sacher-Masoch would not be able to imagine them. The most perverted person also could not imagine them. For example, the man and woman standing on their heads and making love - it does not seem that anybody is going to try or imagine it. Why did they paint these pictures? They are examples of objective art.

These temples of Khajuraho were no ordinary temples. They were a kind of therapy: they exist as a therapy. Whenever somebody was suffering from some sexual perversion he was sent to Khajuraho.

He had to watch and meditate on all those abnormal, bizarre things. He had something perverted in his mind: that perversion was inside the unconscious. What does psychoanalysis do? It tries to bring things from the unconscious to the conscious, that's all. And psychoanalysis says that once something comes from the unconscious to the conscious, it is released; you are free of it.

Now this was a great psychoanalysis this Khajuraho. An abnormal, perverted man is brought. He has repressed his perversions - sometimes they erupt, but he goes on repressing. He knows that something is there like a wound, but he has never been able to see it face to face. He is brought to Khajuraho. He moves slowly, meditating on each statue, each bizarre posture. And one day, suddenly, one posture fits with his inner perversion. Suddenly, from the unconscious, the perversion surfaces to the conscious, and it is released without any Freud or Jung or Adler there - just the temple will do. He is left in the temple. For a few weeks he can be there. For each meditator who really wanted to go into deep meditation in those days, it was good to visit a temple like Khajuraho.

On the walls of the temple are all these statues - very abnormal, very crazy, very perverted. Inside the temple there is no sexual painting, no sexual statue at all, no sexuality at all. Inside is neither Buddha's statue. Shiva's statue nor Krishna's statue.

What is the meaning of it? Why sex on the wall just outside, and inside no sex?

It is a technique. First you have to move on the periphery, so that you can become free of sex. When a person feels that these sexual statues don't attract him at all - now he goes on sitting before them and nothing happens inside, he remains calm and quiet, no sexual arousal, no excitement; for weeks he waits, and no sexuality is felt then he is capable of entering the temple.

It is symbolic. Now his sexuality can go beyond. These temples were Tantra temples: one of the greatest experiments ever done. They are not obscene, they are not pornographic, they are spiritual - a great experiment in spirituality, a great experiment in transforming human energy towards higher levels.

But first the energy has to be freed from the lower level. And to free it there is only one way: to make it absolutely conscious, to bring all the fantasies of the unconscious mind to the conscious.

When the unconscious is completely unburdened, you are free. Then you don't have any blocks, then you can move inwards. Then you can go inside the temple. Then you can meditate on Buddha, on Shiva, or Krishna.

It was not imagination, Samagra, it was objective art which you stumbled upon unknowingly.

Question 3:

You must be talking about 'all that stuff'. otherwise why do you mention it at all? The very mentioning of it shows the mind. You must have been afraid; the idea must have crossed your mind.

And I don't have any ashram, and I don't have any car, and I don't have any secretary. In fact, I don't have anything. Having is not the thing... being. I am just here. Being is my wealth, not having.

If the ashram is here, it is for you not for me. If the secretary is there, it is for you not for me. All that exists here is for you. It does not, it has not, anything to do with me.

I am enough alone.

But somewhere, deep in your mind, you must be too attached to things. When you formulate a question, remember it shows much about you. A question is not only a question, it is very symbolic also.

Several men in the smoking-room were arguing as to who was the greatest inventor. One contended for Stevenson, who invented the railroad, another for Edison, another for Marconi, still another for the Wright brothers. Finally one of them turned to a small man who had been listening but who had said nothing. 'What do you think, Mr. Man?'

'Well' came the reply with a knowing smile 'the man who invented "interest" was nobody's fool.'

And the Jew is hidden in everybody: the Jew goes on thinking of money, interest, things... having.

The first thing: change your focus from having to being. You can have the whole world and it is not going to help; you will remain a beggar. And I am not saying renounce the world, mind you. I am not saying renounce the world. Don't jump to the opposite conclusion. I am saying you can have the whole world and you will not have anything, that's all I am saying. I am not saying renounce it. Because those who renounce, their mind also remains focused on having. You count money, they also count money. You say 'I have got this many thousand dollars', they say 'I have renounced that many thousand dollars', but the counting continues. You are a book-keeper and they are also bookkeepers. And book-keeping is the world.

To know who you are is to become an emperor. To BE is to be an emperor, to HAVE is to be poor.

There are two kinds of poor men in the world: those who have and those who have not. But both are poor because those who have, they have nothing, and those who have not, of course they have not got anything; both are poor. Those who don't have, they are puzzled: 'What to do with it now?'

- they are stuck with it. They have wasted their whole life in having it. Now it is there and they don't know what to do with it. It has not satisfied anything, it has not brought any fulfilment, it has not brought any flowering. They have not come to celebrate life yet. God has not happened through it.

It never happens through having.

You ask: WHAT DO YOU HAVE THAT I HAVEN'T GOT...?

If you insist on speaking in terms of having, then you have got more than I have got. You have got infinitely more: greed, anger, lust, ambition, ego - and a thousand and one things.

What I have got? - just nothing, exactly, just nothing. If you think from the viewpoint of having, then I am the poorest man, because I have got just nothing. But if you think from the viewpoint of being, then I am the richest man. Because once you drop ego, you don't lose anything, you only lose a disease. When you drop greed, you don't lose anything, you only lose a disease. When you drop anger, you don't lose anything, you gain. Each time you drop things like this which you have, you become richer.

When greed disappears, there comes into existence sharing. When anger disappears, there comes into existence compassion. When hate, jealousy, possessiveness, disappear, there comes into being love.

I have got only myself. But that self expresses itself in many, many dimensions - in sharing, in love, in compassion.

So, I can say you have more, much more. And yet I will say you are not yet. I am, and you are not.

Question 4:

.. That man is a machine.

Three scenes... The first:

'Hello, Bernie old pal' greeted Charlie, somewhat potted. 'Let's go into a bar and celebrate the cigar habit.'

'What are you talking about?' asked Bernie.

'Listen' Charlie went on 'my wife wanted me to stop smoking. And her system is - when I feel like a cigar to get an O. Henry candy bar, instead.'

'Did you do that?' Bernie inquired.

'Yeh! And that's why I am celebrating. I'm back on cigars. That candy bar idea doesn't work. Believe me, I tried it. Every time I wanted a cigar I bought an O. Henry candy bar. But you want to know something? I couldn't keep it lit!'

When I say that man is a machine, I mean man functions through habits not through awareness.

When I say that man is a machine, I mean man functions through his past not through his spontaneity.

The second scene:

A night worker had let his whiskers grow until his favourite baseball team won the pennant, much to the disgust of his young and pretty wife. On the day his team clinched the pennant, he laid off work, got himself a shave, went home early and slipped into bed. He took his wife's hand in the darkness and placed it upon his smoothly shaven face. She turned slightly while running her fingers over the now smooth chin and said 'Make it snappy, kid. Old Whiskers will be home any minute now.'

When I say that.man is a machine, I mean man does not see what is the case, man does not look into the present moment, man is not responsive to the reality. Man goes on living in old ideas, man lives through habits.

The third scene:

One day Mulla Nasruddin read a small poem in a magazine. He loved it. The poem was:

Sir, why not buy a bunch or two Of springtime flowers fair?

And take them home one cheerless day, But carry them with care:

Just hand them to your wife and say 'I thought of you in town today'.

Mulla Nasruddin did exactly that. He bought some flowers, but instead of entering the house as usual, he knocked. And when his wife opened the door, he just handed them to her.

To his great surprise she burst out crying. 'Why, whatever is the matter?' he asked.

'Oh' she replied 'I've had an awful day. I broke the teapot, the baby has been crying, the cook has left, and now you come home drunk!'

That's what I mean when I say that man is a machine. And you don't become aware of it, because how can a machine become aware?

You need somebody to hammer on your head continuously, in the hope that some time the hammer will really hit you, shock you out of your habits, and for a moment you will be awake.

That's the whole purpose of a Master: to go on hitting you from this side, from that side, from all the sides: and to go on changing techniques, situations, devices, so that some day you are caught unawares. Even if for a single moment you become aware, you will know that your whole past has been a mechanical past. You will know only then - but not by my saying it - that man is a machine.

You will know only then, when you have tasted one moment of awareness. Then your whole life will be simply known, seen, recognised as mechanical. Because even to know that it has been mechanical, you need something to compare it with. You don't have anything to compare it with.

And you live amongst machines. Your father is a machine, your mother is a machine, your wife is a machine, your friends, your boss - you live amongst machines. You are a machine. How to become aware?

Once, Mulla Nasruddin's wife told me that she was never aware that her husband was drinking until he came home sober one might. If a man is continuously drinking, it is very difficult to know that he is drinking. You become accustomed to seeing him in that way.

You are a machine. It hurts - that's the purpose of calling you a machine. Let it hurt. If it doesn't hurt, then you are incurable. If it hurts, then there is a possibility. If it hurts, it means that somehow, deep down in the unconscious you also feel that, yes, it is so.

Do you live in the present moment? Do you recognise things as they are right now? Or do you just go on seeing them through old eyes, old mind... memory? Don't you have cliches? You immediately put things into certain boxes, ready-made boxes. For example, if you are a Hindu and you meet a man and you were very interested in the man... the man looks beautiful and is very nice, and you like his vibe. Then you ask things about him and he says 'I am a Mohammedan.' Finished. All that nice vibe is no longer there; you have shrunken back. You have a box, a fixed box that Mohammedans are not good. You are a Hindu, Mohammedans are bad. You immediately categorise him, you pigeon-hole him. Now you are no longer interested in the reality of the man. The reality was saying something else, but it was going against your pat categories and theories.

I have heard...

A young woman went to the big town nearby to work there. They were very poor and the mother was old, and as that young woman was the only child, she had gone to work to earn some money.

After a few months she came back with lots of money. The mother was very happy, she asked 'So now, tell me, what did you do there?'

And the daughter was really honest, she said 'I have become a prostitute.'

'What!' the mother screamed, and fainted. When she came to after half an hour, she again asked 'Tell me again what you have become?'

And she said 'I told you, mother, that I have become a prostitute.'

The mother said 'Thank God! I thought you said you had become a Protestant.'

They were Catholics, of course.

Categorisation goes on continuously in the mind. Watch. When you do something, do you respond to the fact here-now, or do you follow certain pat theories? When you do something, do you do it with attention, awareness, or do you just do it like a robot?

I talked the other day about three awarenesses: awareness one, awareness two, awareness three.

This is the first awareness: to watch yourself, to watch your actions, to watch your reactions, to watch your responses. How are you behaving - as a man or as a machine? And out of one hundred, ninety-nine times you will find that you are behaving like a machine. But if you start becoming a little alert, then you are becoming something more than a machine; the plus point is arising in you. That awareness will help you to become man.

Only when you are aware, are you man. Fully aware, you are fully man. Fully unaware, you are a machine.

Question 5:

You have misunderstood. The heart is breaking out of joy; the heart is breaking out of delight, sheer delight. In a certain moment joy becomes unbearable. When joy is unbearable, then you are really joyful. Then joy is at the pinnacle, then joy is at the hundred degree point. If you can bear this much joy, sooner or later you will start evaporating through this joy: you will start disappearing into the divine. Don't be afraid. Nothing wrong is happening to you. You are blessed.

But it happens. Our ideas...

If you see somebody crying, you think that the person is sad, he must be in misery. You start consoling. Have you heard the expression 'tears of joy'? There are tears of joy too. So don't be in a hurry to console - maybe he is just being joyful. But we only know of people crying when they are unhappy. We don't know about people crying when they are happy because people are not happy at all. So 'tears of joy' are only in poems found in poems, not in the eyes.

But tears have nothing to do with sadness. It is an ugly state of humanity, a sad state of affairs, that men cry and weep only when they are sad, miserable. Tears have nothing to do with misery as such, tears come only when something is overflowing. It may be sadness, it may be joy, it may be love, it may be anger. You can watch women. When they become too angry they start crying. It is anger, not sadness. Watch a small child: if he laughs too much, he starts crying. It is too much, unbearable - he starts overflowing into tears. Tears are just an indication that the cup is overfull - they start overflowing.

You say: SINCE I HAVE BEEN HERE EVERYTHING I HAVE WISHED FOR HAS HAPPENED TO ME... That's why the joy is becoming unbearable - you are coming closer to home. NOW I HAVE ALL I COULD POSSIBLY WANT, AND I FEEL LIKE MY HEART IS BREAKING. WHAT IS HAPPENING?

The question is from Anand Pratima.

Something tremendously beautiful is happening. Don't try to analyse it and don't try to think about it. Don't try to interpret it, otherwise the mind can destroy the whole thing.

It is mind trying to interfere with the heart. This question is from the mind. The heart is overfull with joy, that's why it is breaking - it cannot contain it, the joy is too much. Let it break. That's what I am here for, that's why you have come to me. Let it break. Let it go into pieces. Out of joy, let it explode.

Let it disappear into infinity.

Question 6:

Because you are not, because you are not yet. You are nothing but a piled-up phenomenon of others' opinion. Who are you? Somebody says you are beautiful, so you are beautiful. And somebody says you are ugly, so you are ugly. And somebody says you are wonderful, so you are wonderful. And somebody says 'I have never seen such a nasty person', so you are a nasty person. And people go on saying, and you go on collecting all these things. And that is your image. That's why your image is very contradictory, ambiguous. One person says you are beautiful, another says you are ugly. You want to forget this person's idea that you are ugly, but you cannot forget it; it will be there.

If you keep the opinion that you are beautiful you will have to keep the opinion that you are ugly too.

Your image is very ambiguous. You don't know exactly who you are. You are a hodge-podge, what we in India call a KEDGEREE, a mixture of so many things. You don't have a soul yet. You don't have any individuality, you don't have any integrated centre; you are just a junkyard of others' opinions.

That's why you are afraid, because if others' opinions change, you change. You are in the grip of THEIR hands. And this is the trick society has used.

Society has a technique: it makes you very ambitious for social respect - through it, it manipulates you. If you follow the rules of society, it respects you. If you don't follow the rules of society, it insults you tremendously, it hurts you very badly. And to follow the rules of society is to become a slave.

Yes, it pays you great respect for being a slave, but if you want to be a free man, the society becomes angry: it does not want to have anything to do with you.

To really be a free man and to exist in any society is very difficult. And I say it to you from my own experience. It is almost impossible to co-exist, because the society does not want any free man.

The free man is a danger to the society's existence. The society likes zombies, machines, robots - always ready just to fall anywhere into a queue. Just call loudly to them 'Attention!' and they start falling in line just mechanically. They don't ask why; they are imitators.

Now the society pays them well. It gives them respect, it gives them prizes, awards, honours - it has to, this is the trick. It never gives any award to those who are free, it never honours them. How can it honour them? - they are enemies. A free man is an enemy in an unfree society. A moral man is an enemy in an immoral society. A religious man is an enemy in an irreligious society. In a world of materialism, a spiritual man is always in difficulty: he does not fit in anywhere.

To fit in with others, the society gives you as much as you want - it gives you a good image, it buttresses you. But if you don't listen, then it starts changing its opinion. It can demolish you within seconds, because your image is in social hands. So this is the first thing to be understood.

You ask: WHY AM I ALWAYS AFRAID OF OTHERS' OPINION? Because you are not yet. You are nothing but others' opinion, hence the fear: they can take back their opinion. The priest has said that you are a very good man. Now, if you behave, you will remain a good man. If you don't behave according to him - and he may be himself a neurotic, but you have to behave according to him - if you don't behave, if you do something on your own, the priest will look at you and say 'Now you are going against morality. You are going against religion, you are going against tradition. You are falling into sin!' He will change his opinion of you. And you were 'good' because of his opinion.

Be yourself. Nobody can make you good and nobody can make you bad except yourself. Nobody can make you good and nobody can make you bad. These false images are just living in dreams.

A man was told by his doctor 'You are going to make medical history, man. You are the only male ever recorded who has become pregnant!'

The man replied 'This is terrible. Whatever will the neighbours say? I am not even married!'

Now, he is not interested in history and in setting a medical record. He is worried about what the neighbours will say because he is not even married.

We are continuously afraid. This fear will continue if you don't drop collecting opinions. Drop them - all opinions. Somebody believes that you are a saint? Drop it, because he is dangerous; he will manipulate you through his idea. Once you listen to him and you believe him, he becomes the master and you become the slave.

Sometimes people come to me and they say 'You are a great saint.' I say 'Sorry, excuse me. Never utter such a word to me, because I am not going to be manipulated by anybody. I am just myself; saint or sinner, that doesn't matter.' The man is thinking that he is trying to praise me. Maybe he is not even aware of what he is doing.

Whenever you praise a person, you become powerful. Whenever you praise a person and he accepts your praise, he has fallen a victim. Now you will control him. Now whenever he wants to do something - any innocent thing...

Just think. You call a certain man a saint, a MAHATMA, a great sage. Now one day he wants to smoke - what to do? He cannot smoke, because what will happen to his sainthood? Now it seems too much to pay - with sainthood - just for a smoke. He cannot smoke because so many people call him a saint. Or, he will become a hypocrite. He may start smoking behind the door and he will not say that he smokes. He will condemn smoking like anything when he is in public. Then he will have two faces: the public and the private. Then he will be split.

Never accept others' opinions - good or bad. Just tell them 'Sorry. Please keep your opinion to yourself. I am myself.' If you can remain that alert, nobody will ever be able to manipulate you; you will remain free. And freedom is joy. Freedom is difficult, remember, because society consists of slaves.

Freedom is difficult, but freedom is the only joy there is. Freedom is the only dance there is; and freedom is the only door towards God. A slave never reaches to God; he cannot.

Question 7:

The question is from Ma Prem Dasi.

PREM DASI actually means 'the servant of love'. But, while giving sannyas to her, I had knowingly translated it as 'in service of love'. The exact translation is 'the servant of love'. I translated it as 'in service of love' for a certain reason.

I would like you to become more and more serving, but I should not like you to become servants.

Servants don't serve, only masters serve; servants do their duty. Duty is a four-letter, ugly word.

They have to do it; there is no beauty in it, there is no joy in it. So be in service, but never be a servant - that is one thing.

The second thing: when you become a servant, you learn habits. Service is an on-going process.

To become a servant is to attain to a character, a dead character. People know you are a public servant. People know that this man is a servant. A man in service is totally different. He is not predictable. Each moment he will choose to respond. You cannot depend on his past. That's why I translated it as 'in service of love'.

Service is beautiful, but to become a servant is not good. Service is spontaneous. For example, you are passing by a road and you find that a house is on fire. You rush into it and you save a child who was going to die. But you don't HAVE to do it, you were not in search of some public service. You were just going for a morning walk, and the house was on fire. You were not thinking about it at all - just the situation and the response: you are in service.

But a servant is dangerous, because if he cannot find somebody to serve, he will force somebody to be served.

I have heard about a Christian missionary who was teaching his students, the Sunday-school students, small boys and girls. He was telling them to do one good thing, one good work, at least once a week. Next Sunday he inquired whether they had done any good job, had they done any public service? Three boys stood up, and he was very happy. Out of thirty, at least three... But that too is a great percentage because who listens?

So he asked the first boy 'What did you do? Tell the whole class.'

And he said 'Sir, I helped an old woman to cross the road.'

He said 'Very good. Always take care of old women.'

And then he asked the other, and the other said 'I also helped an old woman to cross the street.'

Then the priest was a little puzzled, but he saw nothing to be puzzled about as there are so many old women... maybe he also got one woman.

So he asked the third, and the third said 'I also helped an old woman to cross the street.'

Then the priest said 'But this seems too much. You all three got old women?'

They said 'No, there were not three, there was one. Only one woman was there - we all three helped.'

So he said 'But... three were needed?' He said 'You are saying three were needed?'

'Even with six it would have been difficult, because she didn't want to go to the other side. It was very difficult, sir. But we did it! Something was to be done! She was very angry!

Never be a servant, otherwise you will be in search. And if you cannot find some place to serve, you will be very angry. These people are there all over the world - the public servants. They are the most mischievous people. They create much mischief, because when people don't want to be served, then too they force their service. They have to force, they have an investment there. They cannot allow a beautiful world to exist because what will happen to them?

Just think. No lepers left, no ill people left, no hospitals needed. And all have become enlightened - no schools, no colleges and no universities needed. What will happen to the public servants? They will start committing suicide. Nobody to serve! They will manage somehow to create a situation where they can be of service - their whole prestige depends on it. It is an ego trip.

That's why knowing well... I remember exactly that when I gave sannyas to Prem Dasi, I was just going to translate it as 'the servant of love', then I thought it would be wrong. The word means that, but I changed it and I told her 'in service of love'.

Be in service, but don't make service your character. I love people who live characterlessly, who live moment to moment, who just respond to situations. Otherwise, you will be in bondage.

And you are right, Prem Dasi. You say :I AM MOST IN SERVICE OF LOVE WHEN I AM MOST MYSELF AND NOT INTENDING TO SERVE. Perfectly true. It's how it is.

When you intend to serve, it is no longer beautiful, it is no longer love. When you are yourself, utterly yourself, out of that independence, out of that being arises love, and you serve people. And there is no feeling that you are a servant and they are masters. You simply serve because you have so much to give that you have to share: you flow in your sharing, in your love, in your compassion.

Question 8:

Never heard of it - except in one case. This is the story.

Two girls married on the same day, and took their new husbands to the same honeymoon hotel. The four of them sat in the lounge thinking how obvious it would look if they all went to bed at the same early hour, but after a while it was decided that the girls should go out in the direction of the 'Ladies' and then slip up to their rooms, and the men would have a last drink at the bar. After about ten or fifteen minutes the men would leave casually in the same manner, and join the brides.

However, just as they were about to follow the girls. every light in the place failed - which was disconcerting in a strange building. Nevertheless, each was convinced he could find his room, and so they set off.

Harry groped upstairs and along the passages, counting doors in his careful way, for he was a very careful man, and found the room. Just to make sure, he struck a match and saw bits of confetti on the landing. Then, quietly entering, he carefully took off his clothes, put on his pyjamas, knelt down and said his prayers, climbed into bed and began to make love.

At that very moment all the lights came on, and he saw that he was in the 'right room', as it were, but on the wrong floor, and this was the other man's bride! He grabbed his clothes and hurried off to his own proper room, only to find that the other man was an atheist!