Osho’s early experiences with orthodox religions

It was a problem for me also in my childhood. My whole family was going to 

the temple and I was resistant. I was willing—if they could explain what this 

whole thing was all about. They had no explanation except, "It has been 

done always, and it is good to follow your elders, to follow your old 

generations, to follow the ancient heritage., it is good." This is not an 

explanation. 

I told them, "I am not asking whether it is good or bad; I am asking what it 

is. I don't see any God, I see only a stone statue. And you know perfectly 

well that it is a stone statue--you know better than me, because you have 

purchased it from the market. 

So God is being sold in the market? You have installed it with your own 

hands in the temple; at what point did it become God?--because in the 

shop of the sculptor it is not worshipped. People are haggling for its price; 

nobody is praying to it! Nobody 

thinks that these are gods, because there are so many statues. And you 

can choose according to your liking. 

"You haggled for the price, you purchased the statue, and I have been an 

observer all the time, waiting to see at what moment the stone statue 

becomes God, at what moment it is not a commodity to be purchased and 

sold, but a divinity to be worshipped." 

They had no explanation. There is no explanation, because in fact it never 

became God; it is still a statue. It is just no longer in the shop, it is in the 

temple. And what is the temple?--another house. 

I was asking them, "I want to participate with you in your prayers, in your 

worship; I don't want to remain an outsider. But I cannot do it against 

myself. First I have to be satisfied, and you don't give any answer that is 

satisfying. And what are you saying in your prayers? 

"'Give us this,' 'Give us that'--and do you see the whole hilarious scene? 

You have purchased a stone statue, installed it in a house, and now you 

are begging from the statue, which is purchased by you, 'Give us this,' 

'Give us that, .prosperity to our family, health to our family.' You are 

behaving very strangely, in a weird way, and I cannot participate in it. 

"I don't want to disobey for disobedience's sake. And this is not 

disobedience; I am ready to follow your order, but you are not prepared to 

give it to me. You never asked your own parents. They lived in ignorance, 

you are living in ignorance, and you want me also to live in ignorance." 

They thought that I would cool down by and by. They used to take me to the 

temple. 

They would all bow down, and I would stand by the side. And my father 

would say to me, "Just for our sake., it doesn't look good. It looks odd that 

you stand by the side when everybody is bowing down with so much 

religiousness." 

I said, "I don't see any religiousness; I simply see a certain kind of exercise. 

And if these people are so much interested in exercise, they can go to a 

gymnasium, which will really give them health. 

"Here they are asking, 'Give us health,' and 'Give us wealth.' Go to the 

gymnasium and there you will get health, and you will have real exercises. 

This is not much! And you are right that it looks odd--not my standing here 

but you all doing all kinds of stupid rituals. You are odd. I may be in the 

minority, but I am not odd. 

"And you say for your sake I should participate. Why are you not 

participating with me for my sake? You all should stand in a line in the 

corner-That will show that you really want to participate." 

Finally he told me, "It is better you don't come to the temple, because other 

people come and they see you, and you are always doing something 

nasty." 

I said, "What?", .because I was always sitting with my back towards God, 

which is not allowed-that is "nasty." 

I said, "If God is omnipotent, he can change his position. Why should I be 

bothered about it? But he goes on sitting in the same position. If he does 

not want to see my back, he can move; he can start looking at the other 

side. I am more alive than your God, that's why you tell me to change my 

position; you don't tell your God. You know that he is dead." 

And they said, "Don't say such things!" 

I said, "What can I do? He does not breathe, he does not speak, and I don't 

think he hears, because a man who is not breathing, who is not seeing, 

who cannot move, cannot hear--all these things happen in an organic unity, 

and the organism has to be alive. So to whom are you praying?" 

And slowly, slowly I persuaded my family to get rid of the temple. It was 

made by my family, but then they gave it to the community; they stopped 

going there. I told them, "Unless you explain it to me, your going shows that 

you are not behaving intelligently." psycho12 

In India, if somebody has smallpox it is not thought to be a physical 

disease. 

Smallpox is called in India, mata; mata means mother goddess. And in 

every town there is a temple for the mother goddess, or many temples., the 

mother goddess is angry, that's why poor little children are suffering from 

smallpox. 

People like Mahatma Gandhi were against vaccination because it was 

unnatural. 

Smallpox is natural. It destroys so many beautiful children's faces, their 

eyes, and it kills many. And the prophet of non-violence was against 

vaccination because he was against anything scientific-and moreover it 

was thought the disease is not a physiological disease, it is a spiritual 

anger. 

One of my sisters died of smallpox, and I was very angry because I loved 

that sister more than any of my brothers or my sisters. I told them, "You 

have killed her. I have been telling you that she needs vaccination. 

"I have suffered from smallpox, but at that time I could not say anything to 

you; I don't even remember it, it happened just in my first year. And every 

child suffers. 

When this girl was born I was insisting that she should be vaccinated. But 

you are all followers of Mahatma Gandhi: Vaccination is against nature. 

And to prevent, .the anger of the mother goddess will be dangerous. It will 

come in some other form." 

And when the girl became sick with smallpox they were doing both things: 

they were taking medicine from the doctor and they were continuously 

going to worship the mother goddess. 

I said, "Then please do one thing at least; either take the medicine, or go 

and worship your mother. But you are being cunning; you are even 

deceiving the mother goddess. I am honest, I spit on your mother goddess 

every day"--because I used to go to the river and the temple was just on the 

way so there was no harm; coming and going I would spit. 

And I said, "Whatsoever you do., but it is strange--l am spitting, I should 

suffer. Why should she suffer? And I cannot understand that the mother 

goddess becomes angry and small children suffer--who have not 

committed any crime, who have just arrived, who have not had time enough 

to do anything, nor are capable of doing anything. Others should suffer, but 

they are not suffering. 

"And mother goddess you call her! You should call her a witch, because 

what kind of mother is she who makes small children suffer? And then you 

are cunning. You are also not certain; otherwise don't take the medicine. 

Throw all the medicines; depend completely on your mother goddess. 

There too you are afraid. You are trying to ride on two horses. This is sheer 

stupidity. Either depend on the mother and let the girl die, or depend on the 

medicine, and forget about that mother." 

They would say, "We can understand that there is a contradiction, but 

please don't bring it to our notice, because it hurts." 

I said, "Do you think it hurts only you, and it does not hurt me seeing my 

parents being stupid, silly? It does not hurt me? It hurts me more. There is 

still time, you can change; but on the contrary, you are trying to change me, 

and you call it help. You think without your help I am going to be lost. 

Please let me be lost. At least I will have one satisfaction, that nobody else 

is responsible for my being lost; it is my own doing. I will be proud of it." 

Up to seven years, if a child can be left innocent, uncorrupted by the ideas 

of others, then to distract him from his potential growth becomes 

impossible. The child's first seven years are the most vulnerable. And they 

are in the hands of parents, teachers, priests... darkOI 

Religions could exploit humanity for a simple reason: man feels a kind of 

inner unease when there are questions and there is no way to find the 

answer. Questions are there--man is born with questions, with a big 

question mark in his heart--and it is good. 

It is fortunate that man is born with a question mark, otherwise he would be 

just another species of animal... 

I am reminded of my own childhood and so many things that will help you to 

understand the beauty of the question mark. And unless you understand 

the question mark as something intrinsic to your humanity, to your dignity, 

you will not understand what mysticism is. 

Mystifying is not mysticism. 

Mystifying is what the priests have been doing. 

They have taken your question mark.. 

This is what I was going to tell you. In my childhood they started giving me 

answers., because there was a special class for Jainism in the Jaina 

temple and every child had to attend it, one hour every evening. I refused. 

I told my father, "In the first place I don't have those questions for which 

they are supplying answers. This is stupid. When I have questions I will go 

and learn their answers and try to find out whether they are correct or not. 

Right now I am not even interested in the question. Who created the world? 

My foot!—I am not interested. I know one thing for certain: I have not 

created it. 

My father said, "You are a strange child. All the children from the family are 

going, from the neighborhood, everybody is going." 

Jainas tend to live in a neighborhood, a close-knit neighborhood. Minorities 

are afraid of the majority so they remain close to each other; it is more 

protective. So all the children of the neighborhood go and their temple is in 

the middle of the neighborhood. That too is for protection, otherwise it will 

be burned any day if it is in a Hindu neighborhood or in a Mohammedan 

neighborhood. 

And it will become difficult: if there is a riot you cannot go to your own 

temple. And there are people who will not eat without going to the temple. 

First they have to go to the temple and worship, then only can they eat. So 

Jainas live in small sections of the town, city, village, with their temple in the 

middle, and surrounding it is their whole community. 

"Everybody is going," my father said. 

I said, "They may have questions, or they are idiots. I am not an idiot, and I 

don't have those questions, so I simply refuse to go. And I know what the 

teacher goes on teaching the children is absolute rubbish." 

My father said, "How can you prove that? You always ask me to prove 

things; now I ask you, how can you prove what he says is rubbish?" 

I said, "Come with me." 

He had to go many times to many places; it was just that the arguments 

had to be concluded. And when we reached the school, the teacher was 

teaching that Mahavira had these three qualities: omnipotence, all- 

powerful; omniscient, all-knowing; omnipresent, everywhere-present. I said, 

"You have listened, now come with me to the temple." The class was just 

by the side of the temple, a room attached to the temple. I said, "Now come 

into the temple." 

He said, "But what for?" 

I said, "Come, I will give you the proof." 

What I had done was on Mahavira's statue I had just put a laddoo -that is 

an Indian sweet, a round sweet, just like a ball-1 had put a laddoo on 

Mahavira's head, so naturally two rats were sitting on Mahavira's head 

eating the laddoo. I said, This is your omnipotent Mahavira. And I have 

seen these rats pissing on his head." 

My father said, "You are just impossible. Just to prove this you did all that!" 

I said, "What else to do? How else to prove it? Because I cannot find where 

Mahavira is. This is a statue. This is the only Mahavira I know and you 

know and the teacher knows. And he is omnipresent so he must be present 

here seeing the rats and what they are doing to him. He could have driven 

those rats away and thrown away my laddoo. I was not here. I had gone to 

pick you up—I had all the arrangements to make. Now prove to me that this 

man is omnipresent. And I'm not bothered at all— 

he may be. Why do I care?" 

But before a child even asks a question, you stuff his head with an answer. 

That is a basic and major crime of all the religions. 

This is what programming is, conditioning is. personOI 

One of my father's friends--he was a very good ayurvedic physician- 

wanted to give me a certain ancient medicine made of a very rare kind of 

root. It is only found in the Himalayas and even there only in very rare 

places. It is called brahmaboti. The very name means that if you go through 

the whole ritual of taking that medicine. .It is not just a pill you can swallow, 

it is a whole ritual. With that root juice they write OM on your tongue. It is so 

bitter that one almost feels like vomiting, and you have to stand naked in 

the river or in the lake, water up to your neck. Then the word OM will be 

written, while mantras are being chanted around you by three Sanskrit 

scholars. 

He loved me and he was sincere. It is said that if brahmaboti is used for any 

child before the age of twelve then he will certainly realize God in his life. 

Brahma means the ultimate, God. So he wanted to do the ritual on me. 

I said, "I am surprised that you have three sons and you have not tried the 

ritual on them. Don't you want them to realize God? I know those three 

scholars who will be chanting around me have their own children. Nobody 

has tried it on them, so why do you want me?" 

He said, "Because I love you, and I feel you may realize God." 

I said, "If you feel that, then I will realize without your brahmaboti. If 

brahmaboti helps people to realize God, you would have given it to your 

children. Just out of curiosity I am willing to go through the ritual, but I 

absolutely doubt that it has any value. If God could be realized by such a 

simple method that others do to you...I don't have to do anything-just stand 

in the water, maybe a little shivering, for as long as your mantras are being 

chanted, .and just a little bitter taste, perhaps some vomiting, but these are 

not big things to achieve God. So I want it to be clearly understood: I am 

skeptical of it, but out of curiosity I am ready. Just I want to know, how 

much time will it take me to realize God?" 

He said, "The scriptures don't say anything about it." 

I said, "In this life at least?" 

He said, "Yes, in the same life." 

So the ritual was arranged and I went through the whole torture. For almost 

one hour I was standing shivering in the water. And I used to think that 

neem, one of the trees in India, has the bitterest leaves, but this brahmaboti 

surpassed everything. I don't think anything can make you feel so bad. 

They wrote Om on my tongue; it was almost impossible to keep down 

because my whole stomach was upturned, and I felt like throwing up, but I 

did not want to disturb their ritual. And that was one of the parts of it, that 

you should not throw up; otherwise the whole ritual has gone wrong, 

nothing will happen. 

After one hour I was released from that ritual. I asked the old physician, "Do 

you really believe this kind of nonsense can help anything, that it has any 

relevance to the experience of God? Then why do people go on doing 

ascetic practices their whole life, self-torture, all kinds of disciplines?-this 

one hour torture is enough!" 

He said, "That creates a question in my mind too. I have been worshipping 

God my whole life, and when I was writing OM on your tongue I thought, 

'My God! Perhaps he will realize, and I have been worshipping God my 

whole life-morning and evening. I am tired of it but I go on, because unless 

I realize I am not going to stop.'" 

I said to him, "It is absolutely absurd. I don't see any logic in it except 

torturing small children for no reason at all." And I was not the only one, 

because when they arranged this whole ritual a few other rich people 

became aware and they had brought their sons. 

There were at least nine boys standing in a row in the river because 

whatever is done for one, is done for nine; it takes the same time. And I 

said, "I know these boys; most of them are idiots. If they can realize God, 

then I don't want to realize, because I don't want to be in heaven with these 

boys. They are so idiotic that even in school if they are in my class I change 

the class, I go to another subject. I have never been with those people. This 

is for the first time--in a great effort for God-realization-that I have been 

standing with them." 

Later a few of them dropped out before the middle school because they 

could not pass, and I asked the physician, "What is the matter? The people 

who are going to realize God could not pass a small examination! They 

have proved perfectly well that your ritual was an exercise in futility." 

He used to be angry but he was also considerate. He said, "You have a 

point there, but what can I do?" One of the boys is in jail; he murdered 

somebody. The three who failed just have small businesses. The remaining 

have disappeared in the big world. 

I went on asking him again and again, "What about those nine who were 

prepared for God-realization? Are you still thinking that they will realize 

God?" 

Finally he said, "You are so persistent that I have to tell you, I don't believe 

in this ritual; it is just that it is written in the scriptures. And seeing the failure 

of all these people., but don't tell it to anybody." 

I asked, "Why?" 

He said, "Be wise." 

I said, "You call it being wise?" 

"Don't tell it to anybody, because everybody believes in the scriptures. Why 

create enemies? Keep it to yourself." 

I said, "That is a way of lying." 

He said, "That's true, it is a way of lying." 

And I said, "All those scriptures continuously say 'Be truthful.' So should I 

follow the scriptures or should I follow the masses?" 

He said, "You create dilemmas for me. I am old and tired, and I don't want 

to get into any trouble. Now this is a real dilemma for me. I cannot tell you to 

be untrue and I cannot tell you to be truthful. I cannot tell you to be untrue 

because it will go against the scriptures. I cannot tell you to be true because 

it will endanger your life. I can simply say, 'Be wise."’ 

I said, "I used to think wisdom consists of being truthful, but here it seems 

that to be wise means to be political; to be wise means deceitful, uncaring 

about the truth, just thinking about your own comfort and respectability." 

mystic 16 

In Jainism a beautiful incident happened. 

A woman named Mallibai asked the contemporary tirthankara, the 

contemporary Jaina master, "Why is a woman prevented?" 

He said, "For the simple reason that unless you are naked and live like we 

live, you cannot become enlightened." And a woman certainly feels shy to 

be naked, particularly amongst so-called celibates. 

But Mallibai was a lioness! She immediately dropped her clothes, and she 

said, "If nakedness is the only problem, I am naked." 

And she rose to deep meditations, to such a height that Jainism had to 

accept her as one of the tirthankaras. But such cunningness, such 

callousness., they changed her name so that posterity would never know 

that a woman had become equal to Mahavira! They changed her name 

from Mallibai- bai means a woman-to Mallinath- 

- nath means a man. 

I used to harass my father, that "I want to see which one of the twenty-four 

statues in the temple is Mallibai." 

He said, "I don't know. Don't harass me. They all are men!" 

Even the statue has been made that of a man! The name has been 

changed, the statue is made of a man, just so that the fact that a woman 

has become enlightened is erased from the memory of man. poetry04 

My sister was being married and I told my father, "If the word kanyadan, 

donation of the daughter, is being used, I will never come back to this 

family again. Then you can think I am dead." 

He said, "But this is strange. That word has been used for centuries." 

I said, "I don't care about the centuries, I care about the meaning of the 

word. You can donate things, you can donate money--you cannot donate 

people! And I will not allow it, even if the marriage party goes back. Let 

them go to hell!" 

He said, "I was worried that you might create some trouble, but I had not 

thought about this kind of trouble. The marriage party is coming-you can 

hear the band, and the people are coming closer-and you ask me not to 

use the word 'kanyadan'..! But what about the brahmin priest who will say, 

'Where is the father? He has to come and do kanyadan."’ 

I said, "I have made arrangements with the priest before I talked to you." 

The priest used to live just behind my house. There used to be a big neem 

tree in the middle--and it was a very narrow street--and I had spread the 

gossip around the town that the tree was full of ghosts. And the brahmin 

was very much afraid, because he had to pass through that street. He was 

the only person who lived behind our house, the only person who had to go 

through that street. And he used to ask me, "Is it true?" 

I said, "Do you want to experience? I have some acquaintance with those 

people because I live in the house.." 

And one day I managed to give him some experience.... 

He used to almost run in the street. From the main street he would start 

running saying, "Hare Krishna, Hare Rama, Hare Krishna, Hare Rama.." 

just to avoid the ghosts which were there. And he had just begun with, 

"Hare Krishna, Hare Rama.." 

when I gave him the experience. 

I had just done a simple thing. As he was coming from his work in the town- 

-some worship, some marriage or whatever--it must have been ten o'clock 

in the night, it was a dark night.. I had a drum with me and a big blanket. As 

he came under the tree, I threw the blanket over him so he could not see 

what was happening, and I just banged the drum and threw the drum also 

over him. He got so confused at what was happening, he ran away, back 

down the street. And by chance, the drum fell over his head. I had not 

thought that it would go that way--that his head was completely covered by 

the drum, and underneath the drum was the blanket covering his whole 

body. So by the time he reached the road, people started running, thinking 

that the ghost had come onto the road! 

He had to shout and struggle, "I am the brahmin who lives behind! I am not 

the ghost! It is the work of the ghost that I am in such a situation." But there 

was no other way. So he was always very polite and respectful of me after 

the experience. 

Whatever I said he always said, "Yes, I will do it." 

I told him, "My sister is going to be married. You are not to use the word 

'kanyadan', because no person can be donated. It is not a gift—a human 

being given as a donation? If you usekanyadan', then remember, from this 

day you will never be able to reach your home., every day those ghosts will 

trouble you." 

He said, "I will do everything, but please no more blankets, no more 

drums." 

So I told my father, "He is willing." sword22 

In my childhood, one of my father's friends was a great physician in that 

area, and also a very learned scholar. So saints, mahatmas, scholars used 

to stay in his home. 

And because of my father's friendship with him, I was allowed in his home, 

there was no barrier for me--although whenever there was any guest he 

wanted me not to 

come. He used to say, "This is a strange coincidence, that whenever I want 

you not to come you immediately appear"-because I was constantly 

watching from my house so that if some saint arrived, then the second 

person to arrive would be me. And I found out from my very childhood, 

.these people were almost all Vedantins, the philosophy that teaches all is 

illusory. 

One of the famous Hindu saints, Karpatri, used to stay there. One day he 

was sitting; behind him was a door going inside the house. I simply dropped 

a book on his head. 

Now, a clean-shaved head, .and the book was not just dropping, it was 

really hitting. 

And he said, "What are you doing?" 

I said, "Nothing, it is all illusory." 

The physician was not present. 

He said, "Let the physician come. You should be barred from entering into 

this house." 

I said, "Strange, you believe in the house? You believe in the physician? He 

is sitting there just in front of you." 

He looked. He said, "There is nobody there." 

I said, "It is illusory, how can you see illusions? I can see him perfectly well; 

he is sitting in his seat surrounded by his medicines." 

He looked again. 

I said, "It must be that you are getting old and you need glasses." 

He said, "I can see everything else perfectly-tables, chairs, the walls—it is 

just the physician I cannot see." And at that very time the physician came 

out, and he said, 

"Here is the physician!" 

I said, "The whole day you are talking about illusion, illusion, illusion, but in 

your life I don't see any impact of your philosophy. And what is the point of 

having a philosophy of life which is just verbal, intellectual?" 

Avoid these people. 

In my childhood, when these people would be giving discourses in the 

temple, I used to stand up--and this was one of the points I would make to 

them: "Don't mention that things are illusory. If you mention it, I will prove 

that they are not. And you know me perfectly well, because we have met at 

the physician's place in the morning. I have already proved it. 

It started happening that they would avoid coming to my village. The 

physician told my father, "Saints used to come to my house. Your son is 

such trouble that when I go to the railway station to receive them they say, 

'We are not coming, because it becomes such an embarrassing situation: 

before thousands of people he stands up and he says he can prove.. And 

he can prove, and we cannot prove, that is true. It is only a philosophy that 

the world is illusory.’" 

Always remember that philosophies are worthless unless they can give you 

an insight, unless they can give you a new vision of life, unless they can 

transform you, unless they are alchemical. upan31 

From my very childhood I have been continuously questioning 

knowledgeable people. My (parents') house was a guest house of many 

Jaina saints, Hindu monks, Sufi mystics, because my grandfather was 

interested in all of these people. But he was not a follower of anybody. He, 

rather, enjoyed me bothering these saints. 

Once I asked him, "Are you really interested in these people? You invite 

them to stay in the house and then you tell me to harass them. In what are 

you really interested?" 

He said, "To tell you the truth I enjoy their being harassed, because these 

guys go on pretending that they know--and they know nothing. But 

anywhere else it would be difficult to harass them because people would 

stop you. People would tell me, 'Your grandson is a nuisance here--take 

him away.' So I invite them, and then in our own house you can do 

whatever you want. And you have all my support: you can ask any 

questions you want." 

And I enquired of these people, just simple questions: "Be true and just 

simply tell me, do you know God? Is it your own experience or have you 

just heard? You are learned, you can quote scriptures, but I am not asking 

about scriptures: I am asking about you. Can you quote yourself, your 

experience?" 

And I was surprised that not a single man had any experience of God, or of 

himself. 

And these were great saints in India, worshiped by thousands of people. 

They were deceiving themselves and they were deceiving thousands of 

others. That's why I say that knowledge has done much harm. Ignorance 

has done no harm. dark09 

There was one man in India.. 

There were only two persons who were called Mahatma: one was Mahatma 

Gandhi, another was Mahatma Bhagwandin. I never agreed with Mahatma 

Gandhi, but with Mahatma Bhagwandin I had a great friendship. He was 

very old and I was so young, but we both felt some synchronicity. So 

whenever Mahatma Bhagwandin used to come to my city, he used to stay 

in our house. He was a great scholar and immensely informed. I have never 

come across anybody who is so informed about so much rubbish. You ask 

him anything and he will function almost like the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 

I used to go for a morning walk with him, and he would tell me about every 

tree: its name, its Greek name, its Latin name, its ayurvedic qualities, its 

medicinal purposes, its age.. The first time I tolerated it; the next day when 

he started again I said, 

"Please! Because of your knowledge you cannot enjoy the walk. These 

beautiful trees become covered with Latin words, Greek words, Sanskrit 

roots, and I am not interested to know. It is enough for me that the tree is 

dancing in the wind, and I can hear the song and the joy. And I certainly 

can say that you cannot hear, you are deaf. 

You are a great encyclopedia, but you are not a conscious human being." 

He was surprised, shocked. For half an hour he remained silent; and then 

he started again. As he came across a tree he said, "Look, this is the only 

tree that exhales oxygen in the night and inhales oxygen in the day." 

I said, "My God, I have told you that I am not interested. It is enough for me 

that the tree is green, full of flowers and looking so beautiful in the morning 

sun., the dewdrops are still on the leaves. You destroy the whole beauty, 

you don't have any aesthetic sense! And you are an old man--you are my 

grandfather's friend, you are not my friend; the distance of age between me 

and you is half a century as far as years are concerned. But if you think of 

consciousness, the difference between me and you is many, many 

centuries!" 

He said, "You are strange; I wanted to make you more informed. In life one 

needs knowledge, information about everything." 

I said, "Who is going into that life where knowledge is a commodity, where 

knowledge is sold, purchased? Who is going? My interest is not in the 

world of names. My interest is in the hidden splendor which you are 

completely forgetting because of your knowledge. You are covered with 

your knowledge--so thick that you cannot see the light, the joy of anything. 

Your knowledge becomes a China Wall." 

I thought he must be angry, but on the contrary-he was a very sincere 

man-he reported to my grandfather, "Although he has insulted me again 

and again on my morning walk I am not angry. I am simply happy that his 

interest is not in the names but in the nameless. In seventy years nobody 

has told me"--and he was respected all over India as a great saint--"nobody 

has told me, 'You are wasting your life in accumulating knowledge.' This 

child has made me aware that I have wasted seventy years. If I live a little 

longer I will start learning again so that I can have some acquaintance with 

the nameless, with the formless, with that which is." 

It happened by chance, that the day he died I was present. He died in 

Nagpur; I was passing from Chanda to Jabalpur. Nagpur was just in the 

middle, so I asked the driver to take me to Mahatma Bhagwandin, "just for 

half an hour and you can take a rest." 

I could not believe it when I saw him. He had become an absolute skeleton. 

I had not seen him for almost five years. 

He was dying but his eyes were showing a tremendous light. He had 

become only eyes; everything else had become dead, just a skeleton. 

Looking at me he said, "It cannot be coincidence that you have come at the 

right time. I was waiting, because I wanted to thank you before I leave the 

body. These years have been difficult in dropping knowledge, information, 

and finding that which is hidden behind names. But you have put me on the 

right track, and now I can say all names are false, and all knowledge may 

be useful but is not existential, is not true. I am dying with absolute peace, 

the silence which you have been talking about again and again." 

I had to delay because it seemed that he was going to die within a few 

minutes, or maybe a few hours at the most. Within five or six hours he died, 

but he died with such peace, with such joy. His face was so blissful, 

although his whole body was suffering from many diseases. But he had 

already got disentangled from the body; he had found himself, livzenl 1 

In my neighborhood there was a temple, a temple of Krishna, just a few 

houses away from my house. The temple was on the other side of the road, 

my house was on this side of the road. In front of the temple lived the man 

who had made the temple; he was a great devotee. 

The temple was of Krishna in his childhood-because when Krishna 

becomes a young man he creates many troubles and many questions, so 

there are many people who worship Krishna as a child--hence the temple 

was called the temple of Balaji. 

Balaji means., bal means child, and Balaji has become the name for 

Krishna. And then everything is simple because about his childhood you 

cannot raise all those questions which would be raised later on... 

He becomes a politician, a warrior, manages the whole war and collects all 

those women--anything that you can imagine, he has done it. So in India 

there are many temples which are of the child Krishna.. 

And in India many temples are called Balaji's temple, which means Krishna 

in his childhood. 

This Balaji's mandir was just in front of the house of the man who had 

made it. 

Because of the temple and the man's devotion, continuous devotion... He 

would take a bath-just in front of the temple was a well-he would take a 

bath there first thing. 

Then he would do his prayers for hours; and he was thought to be very 

religious. By and by people started also calling him Balaji. It became so 

associated that I don't remember his real name myself because by the time 

I had any idea that he existed, I only heard his name as Balaji. But that 

cannot be his name; that name must have come because he made the 

temple. 

I used to go to the temple because the temple was very beautiful and very 

silent- 

except for this Balaji who was a disturbance there. And for hours-he was a 

rich man so there was no need for him to be worried about time-three 

hours in the morning, three hours in the evening, he was constantly 

torturing the god of the temple. 

Nobody used to go there, although the temple was so beautiful that many 

people would have gone there; they would go to a temple further away 

because this Balaji was too much. And his noise-it can only be called 

noise, it was not music-his singing was such that it would make you an 

enemy of singing for your whole life. 

But I used to go there and we became friendly. He was an old man. I said, 

"Balaji, three hours in the morning, three hours in the evening--what are you 

asking for? 

And everyday?--and he has not given it to you?" 

He said, "I am not asking for any material things. I ask for spiritual things. 

And it is not a matter of one day; you have to continue your whole life and 

they will be given after death. But it is certain they will be given: I have 

made the temple, I serve the lord, I pray; you can see even in winter, with 

wet clothes..." It is thought to be a special quality of devotion, to be 

shivering with wet clothes. My own idea is that with shivering, singing 

comes easier. You start shouting to forget the shivering. 

I said, "My idea about it is different but I will not tell you. Just one thing I 

want because my grandfather goes on saying, 'These are only cowards; 

this Balaji is a coward. Six hours a day he is wasting, and it is such a small 

life; and he is a coward.'" 

He said, "Your grandfather said that I am a coward?" 

I said, "I can bring him." 

He said, "No, don't bring him to the temple because it will be an 

unnecessary trouble--but I am not a coward." 

I said, "Okay, we will see whether you are a coward or not." 

Behind his temple there was what in India is called an akhara, where 

people learn to wrestle, do exercises, and the Indian type of wrestling. I 

used to go there--it was just behind the temple, by the side of the temple-- 

so I had all the wrestlers there as my friends. I asked three of them, 

"Tonight you have to help me." 

They said, "What has to be done?" 

I said, "We have to take Balaji's cot--he sleeps outside his house--we have 

just to take his cot and put it over the well." 

They said, "If he jumps or something happens he may fall into the well." 

I said, "Don't worry, the well is not that deep. I have jumped into it many 

times--it is not that deep nor is it that dangerous. And as far as I know 

Balaji is not going to 

jump. He will shout from the cot; sitting in the cot, he will call to his Balaji, 

'Save me!"' 

With difficulty I could convince three persons: "You have nothing really to 

do with it. 

Just alone I cannot carry his cot, and I am asking you because you are all 

strong people. If he wakes up in the middle it will be difficult to reach to the 

well. I will wait for you. He goes to sleep at nine o'clock, by ten the street is 

empty and eleven is the right time not to take any chances. At eleven we 

can move him." 

Only two persons turned up; one didn't turn up, so we were only three. I 

said, "This is difficult. One side of the cot., and if Balaji wakes up.. .1 said, 

"Just wait, I will have to call my grandfather." 

And I told my grandfather, "This is what we are going to do. You have to 

give us a little help." 

He said, "This is a little too much. You have some nerve to ask your own 

grandfather to do this to that poor man who does no harm to anybody 

except that he shouts six hours a day., but we have become accustomed to 

it." 

I said, "I have not come to argue about it. You just come, and anything that 

you want, anytime, I will owe it to you; you just say, and I will do it. But you 

have to come for this thing, and it is not much-just a twelve-foot road has 

to be crossed without waking up Balaji." 

So he came. That's why I say he was a very rare man-he was seventy-five! 

He came. 

He said, "Okay, let us have this experience also and see what happens." 

The two wrestlers started escaping, seeing my grandfather. I said, "Wait, 

where are you going?" 

They said, "Your grandfather is coming." 

I said, "I am bringing him. He is the fourth person. If you escape then I will 

be at a loss. My grandfather and I will not be able to manage. We can carry 

him, but he will wake up. You need not be worried." 

They said, "Are you sure of your grandfather?--because they are almost of 

the same age; they may be friends and some trouble may arise. He may tell 

on us." 

I said, "I am there, he cannot get me into any trouble. So don't you be 

afraid, you will not be in any trouble, and he does not know your names or 

anything." 

We carried Balaji and put his cot over his small well. Only he used to take a 

bath there, and once in a while I used to jump into it, which he was very 

much against-- 

but what can you do? Once I had jumped in, he had to arrange to take me 

out. I said, 

"What can you do now? The only thing is to take me out. And if you harass 

me, I will jump in every day. And if you talk about it to my family, then you 

know I will start bringing my friends to jump into it. So right now, keep it a 

secret between us. You take your bath outside, I take my bath inside; there 

is no harm." 

It was a very small well, so the cot could completely fit over it. Then I told 

my grandfather, "You go away because if you are caught then the whole 

city will think that this is going too far." 

And then, from far away we started throwing stones to wake him up., 

because if he did not wake up the whole night, he might turn and fall into 

the well, and something would go wrong. The moment he woke up he gave 

such a scream! We had heard his voice, but this.. ! The whole 

neighborhood gathered. He was sitting in his cot and he said, "Who has 

done it?" He was trembling and shaking and afraid. 

People said, "Please get out of the cot at least. Then we will find out what 

has happened." I was there in the crowd, and I said,"What is the matter? 

You could have called your Balaji. But you didn't call him, you gave a 

scream and you forgot all about Balaji. Six hours training every day for your 

whole life..." 

He looked at me and he said, "Is that too a secret?" 

I said, "Now there are two secrets you have to keep. One you have already 

kept for many years. This is now the second." 

But from that day he stopped that three hours shouting in the temple. I was 

puzzled. 

Everybody was puzzled. He stopped taking a bath in that well, and those 

three hours evening and morning he just forgot. He arranged a servant 

priest to come every morning to do a little worship and that was all. 

I asked him, "Balaji, what has happened?" 

He said, "I had told you a lie that I am not afraid. But that night, waking up 

over the well--that shriek was not mine." You can call it the primal scream. 

It was not his, that is certainly true. It must have come from his deepest 

unconscious. He said, "That scream made me aware that I am really an 

afraid man, and all my prayers are nothing but trying to persuade God to 

save me, to help me, to protect me. 

"But you have destroyed all that, and what you have done was good for me. 

I am finished with all that nonsense. I tortured the whole neighborhood my 

whole life, and if you had not done that, I may have continued. I am aware 

now that I am afraid. 

And I feel that it is better to accept my fear because my whole life has been 

meaningless and my fear is the same." 

Only in 1970, I went for the last time to my city. I had a promise with my 

mother's mother that when she dies--she had taken it as a promise--that I 

would come. So I had gone. I just went around the town to meet people and 

I saw Balaji. He was looking a totally different man. I asked him, "What has 

happened?" 

He said, "That scream changed me completely. I started to live the fear. 

Okay, if I am a coward, then I am a coward; I am not responsible for it. If 

there is fear, there is fear; I was born with it. But slowly, slowly as my 

acceptance grew deeper, that fear has disappeared, that cowardliness has 

disappeared. 

"In fact I have disposed of the servant from the temple, because if my 

prayers have not been heard, then how is a servant's prayer going to be 

heard, .a servant who goes to thirty temples the whole day?"because he 

gets two rupees from each temple. 

"He is praying for two rupees. So I have disposed of him. And I am perfectly 

at ease, and I don't bother a bit whether God exists or not. That is His 

problem, why should I be bothered? 

"But I am feeling very fresh and very young in my old age. I wanted to see 

you, but I could not come, I am too old. I wanted to thank you that you did 

that mischief; otherwise, I would have continually prayed and died, and it 

was all just meaningless, useless. Now I will be dying more like a man 

freed, completely freed." He took me into his house. I had been there 

before; all the religious books were removed. He said, "I am no longer 

interested in all that." ignor17 

I have come across many priests, and it was, in the beginning, a great 

shock to me that they are people who know nothing about religion; they are 

the people who know nothing of prayer; they are the people who have never 

meditated. They 

worship, but their worship is superficial—it is not of the heart--and they 

worship on behalf of someone else. They are servants, not really priests. 

In India, every rich man has a small temple in his house. But the rich man 

has no time for God. Why waste time for God? In that much time, he can 

earn much. A priest can be purchased--and he will pray on behalf of you. 

Man is so deceptive that he can deceive even himself. The god is dead; he 

has purchased it from the market. It is nothing but stone, carved into the 

shape of some unknown god who has never been seen by anyone. The god 

is just a thing. Of course, the richer the man, the costlier will be the god. But 

whether costly or not, it is a commodity. And on top of that, even the priest 

is a salaried servant. He has nothing to do with God--he has something to 

do with money. I have seen priests running from one temple to another. If a 

priest can manage to pray in twenty temples, then he is a rich priest. 

The whole idea is so absurd and unbelievable. It is just as if you have a 

paid servant to love your beloved on your behalf. Perhaps one day it is 

going to happen-because the time you waste in loving your beloved can 

produce much money, much power. 

This game of love can be done by an ordinary servant. Why waste your 

time? And if the woman is also intelligent, there is no need for her to be 

there; she can also afford a woman servant. They both can love each other. 

Why waste time unnecessarily? mess212 

I have been sitting, hiding in temples, and listening to what people are 

asking. I was puzzled. There is not a single thing in the world that you will 

not hear being asked. 

Somebody is after some woman, and the woman is not paying any 

attention to him. 

Offer a coconut, and God will take care of it. 

In India, it is impossible to destroy baksheesh.... 

You should go to a temple--just stand by the side so nobody observes you, 

and watch the people who come to pray. If there is a crowd, they pray long, 

because so many people are seeing them--they will spread the rumor in the 

city that this man is very religious. If there is nobody to observe them, their 

prayer is a shortcut. They finish it quickly and. .gone. What is the point?- 

nobody is watching. 

I have seen the same person praying before the crowd-then he goes long- 

and the same person alone in the temple, unaware that I am hiding there- 

he quickly finishes the prayer. If there is nobody seeing him, what is the 

point? mess212 

I have met thousands of people who are known as great religious masters 

and teachers. India is so full of sages and saints you can meet them 

anywhere. There is no need to seek and search. They are seeking and 

searching for you, and fighting: 

"You belong to me, not to yourself'-whosoever catches hold of you first. 

But they are all parts of a certain cult, repeating parrot-like--exactly parrot¬ 

like or you can say computer-like-scriptures, great words. But words only 

mean that which the person has. 

The search for truth is basically the search for a living master. It is very rare 

that you can find the way without a master. But I allow the exception. I allow 

the exception because I myself never had any master. 

I have met with many so-called masters, but they all wanted to get rid of 

me, because my presence was such a danger to their respectability. I 

raised questions that they could not answer. Other disciples started 

disappearing, and they would 

say, "Please, you go on and find somebody else; don't disturb our disciples. 

They never asked such questions before you came; now they have started 

asking strange questions about which we know nothing." 

There are around the world many who pretend that they know. But you can 

see in their eyes, in their gestures, in their silences, in their words, whether 

they know or they are just tape recorders, quoting scriptures. ignor18 

For example, the law of the Hindu society that divides it into four castes is 

absolutely unlawful, unjust. It has no reasonable support for it-l have seen 

idiots who are born in a brahmin family. Just because you are born in a 

brahmin family, you cannot claim superiority. 

I have seen people who are born in the lowest category of Hindu law, the 

sudras, the untouchables, so intelligent: when India became independent, 

the man who made the constitution of India, Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar, 

was a sudra. There was no equal to his intelligence as far as law is 

concerned-he was a world-famous authority. mess202 

The sudra is not allowed to have any education, he's not allowed to read 

any religious scripture. Obviously, he cannot read because he has never 

been in a school. 

It was the British government who made a law that sudras can and should 

be allowed in the schools. When I was a child and I first entered school, I 

was surprised that a few children were sitting outside the class. I asked, 

"What is the matter? Why are these children sitting out of the class?" 

And the teacher told me, "They are sudras. Although the law has been 

enforced, we cannot drop our culture. They have to sit outside." 

Even if some sudra somehow manages to learn to read, he cannot read 

any religious scripture. The penalty and the punishment is death. Forget all 

about reading religious scriptures-he cannot even listen. If somewhere 

brahmins are reciting the Vedas, the sudra is not allowed to listen. 

This is the respect that you have given to labor. The parasites, the 

brahmins, are the highest caste; you have to touch their feet. mess113 

Jainism in India, on its sacred days, ten days per year, you have to fast and 

you cannot eat in the night. According to Jainism you cannot eat in the night 

any day of the year; eating in the night is sin. When the sun sets, Jainas 

cannot eat. Not only that, those who are very orthodox will not drink water. 

It was such a trouble in my childhood, because I was born in a Jaina family, 

that I simply refused. In India it is so hot, and summer nights are so hot, and 

you cannot even drink water. I said, "I am willing to go to hell—that will 

happen after death. 

There is time.. I will do something., but right now I am going to drink. I don't 

want to suffer this night in hell." 

In those ten days you cannot eat at all for ten days continuously. And I 

know that in those ten days Jainas think only of food, nothing else. Day and 

night, their dreams are full of food. Iast209 

From my childhood I was taught a very very strict vegetarianism. I was born 

in a Jaina family, absolutely dogmatic about vegetarianism. Not even 

tomatoes were allowed in my house, because tomatoes look a little like red 

meat. Poor innocent tomatoes, they were not allowed. Nobody has ever 

heard of anybody eating in the 

night; the sunset was the last limit. For eighteen years I had not eaten 

anything in the night, it was a great sin. 

Then for the first time I went on a picnic with a few friends to the mountains. 

And they were all Hindus and I was the only Jaina. And they were not 

worried to cook in the day. Mm? The mountains were so beautiful and there 

was so much to explore-- 

so they didn't bother about cooking at all, they cooked in the night. Now it 

was a great problem for me to eat or not to eat? And I was feeling really 

hungry. The whole day moving in the mountains, it had been arduous. And I 

was really feeling hungry- 

for the first time so hungry in my life. 

And then they started cooking. And the aroma and the food smell. And I 

was just sitting there, a Jaina. Now it was too difficult for me--what to do? 

The idea of eating in the night was impossible--the whole conditioning of 

eighteen years. And to sleep in that kind of hunger was impossible. And 

then they all started persuading me. And they said, There is nobody here 

to know that you have eaten, and we will not tell your family at all. Don't be 

worried.' And I was ready to be seduced, so they seduced me and I ate. But 

then I could not sleep--l had to vomit two or three times in the night, the 

whole night became nightmarish. It would have been better if I had not 

eaten. 

Conditioning for eighteen years that to eat in the night is sin. Now nobody 

else was vomiting, they were all fast asleep and snoring. They have all 

committed sin and they are all sleeping perfectly well. And they have been 

committing the sin for eighteen years, and I have committed it for the first 

time and I am being punished. 

This seems unjust! body04 

One Jaina monk was in the town. Jaina monks sit on a very high pedestal, 

so that even standing you can touch their feet with your head, .at least a 

five-foot, six-foot-high pedestal-and they sit on it. Jaina monks move in a 

group, they are not allowed to move alone; five Jaina monks should move 

together. That is a strategy so that the four keep an eye on the fifth to see 

that nobody tries to get a Coca-Cola-unless they all conspire. And I have 

seen them conspiring and getting Coca-Cola, that's why I remember it. 

They are not allowed even to drink in the night and I have seen them 

drinking Coca-Cola in the night. In fact, in the day it was dangerous to drink 

Coca-Cola-what if somebody saw it!-so only in the night... I had supplied 

it myself so there was no problem about it. Who else would supply them? 

No Jaina would be ready to do it, but they knew me, and they knew that 

any outrageous thing, and I would be ready to do it. 

So five pedestals were there. But one monk was sick, so when I went there 

with my father, I went to the fifth pedestal and sat on it. I can still remember 

my father and the way he looked at me., he could not even find words: 

"What to say to you?" And he could not interfere with me, because I had not 

done any wrong to anybody. Just sitting on a pedestal, a wooden pedestal, 

I was not hurting anybody or anything.. 

And those four monks were in such uneasiness and they also could not say 

anything-what to say? One of them finally said, "This is not right. Nobody 

who is not a monk should sit on an equal level." So they told my father, 

"You bring him down." 

I said, "You think twice. Remember the bottle!" because I had supplied the 

Coca-Cola. 

They said, "Yes, that's right, we remember the bottle. You sit on the 

pedestal as long as you please." 

My father said, "What bottle?" 

I said, "You ask these people. I have a double contract: one with you and 

one with them, and nobody can prevent me. You all four agree that I can sit 

here, or I will start telling the name of the bottle." 

They said, "We are perfectly satisfied. You can sit here, there is no harm- 

but please keep silent about the bottle." 

Now, many people were there, and they all became interested, .what 

bottle? When I came out of the temple everybody gathered; they all said, 

"What is this bottle?" 

I said, "This is a secret. And this is my power over these fools whose feet 

you go on touching. If I want, I can manage to tell them to touch my feet, 

otherwise--the bottle..." These fools! 

My father, on the way home, asked me, "You can just tell me. I will not tell 

anybody: what is this bottle? Do they drink wine?" 

I said, "No. Things have not gone that far, but if they remain here a few 

days more, I will manage that too. I can force them to drink wine., otherwise 

I will name the bottle." 

The whole town was discussing the bottle, what the bottle was, and why 

they had become afraid: "We have always thought that they were such 

spiritual sages, and this boy made them afraid. And they all agreed that he 

could sit there, which is against the scriptures." Everybody was after me. 

They were ready to bribe me: "Ask whatsoever--you just tell us what is the 

secret of the bottle." 

I said, "It is a very great secret, and I am not going to tell you anything 

about it. Why don't you go and ask your monks what the bottle is? I can be 

there, so they cannot lie--and then you will know what kind of people you 

are worshipping. And these are the people who are conditioning your 

mind!" ignor04 

In India many religions teach how to destroy the taste of the food before 

you eat it. 

There are many traditions in India where the monk will beg and put all kinds 

of things in one begging bowl, because he is not allowed to beg from just 

one house. 

And even if he begs from just one house, then in one begging bowl sweet 

things are there, salty things are there, all kinds of spices are there, rice is 

there, all kinds of dahls are there; and they all get mixed up. But that is not 

enough! First the monk should go to the river and dip the whole begging 

bowl in the river--they don't take any chances--and then mix everything, 

.and then enjoy it! Have a nice lunch, dinner, or whatever you call it. 

In fact, once it happened: I was sitting on the bank of my village river, and a 

monk whom I knew--he used to beg from my house too, and he was very 

friendly with my father, and they used to chitchat--was doing this horrible 

thing of dipping his begging bowl. 

I said to him, "Have you ever thought of one thing? The way you enjoy your 

food, even a buffalo would refuse it, a donkey would refuse it." 

He said, "What?" 

I said, "Yes." And in India if you want to find donkeys, you will find them 

near the river because the washermen use donkeys to carry their clothes to 

the river. Only the washermen use the donkey. Nobody else even touches 

the donkey because the 

washerman is untouchable and his donkey is untouchable too. So while 

they are washing clothes their donkeys are just standing on the bank of the 

river waiting for the washermen to load them again, and then they will start 

moving home. 

So I said, "There is a donkey. Just give me your begging bowl; and don't be 

worried-- 

if he eats it I will bring you a full bowl again from my house. If he does not 

eat it, you have to eat it. 

He said, "I take the challenge." 

I put the begging bowl in front of the donkey and the donkey simply 

escaped. He escaped for two reasons: one was the food, the other was me. 

That was not known to the monk--that any donkey would have escaped. All 

the donkeys of my town were afraid of me because whenever I got a 

chance I would ride on them--just to harass my whole village. I would go to 

the marketplace sitting on a donkey. The whole village used to say, "this is 

too much!" And I would say, "The donkey is a creation of God, and God 

cannot create anything bad. And I don't see what is wrong. He is a poor 

fellow, and nice." 

So all the donkeys knew me perfectly well. It became so that even from far 

away, even at night, if a donkey was standing there and I was coming 

towards him, he would just escape. They started recognizing me. The 

monk was not aware that there were two reasons for the donkey running 

away, but he certainly saw that the donkey refused the food. 

I said, "This is what your religion has been teaching you, to fall below the 

donkey. 

Even a donkey can sense that this is not food, not worth eating." person12 

In my town there was only one church. There were very few Christians, 

perhaps four or five families, and I was the only non-Christian who used to 

visit the church. 

But that was not special; I used to visit the mosques, the Gurudwara, Hindu 

temples, Jaina temples. I always had the idea that everything belongs to 

me. I don't belong to any church, I don't belong to any temple, but any 

temple and any church that exists on the earth belongs to me. 

Seeing a non-Christian boy coming continually every Sunday, the priest 

became interested in me. He said to me, "You seem to be very interested. 

In fact, in my whole congregation-it is such a small congregation-you 

seem to be the most interested. 

Others are sleeping, snoring, but you are so alert and listening and 

watching everything. Would you like to become like Jesus Christ?" and he 

showed me Jesus Christ's picture, of course of him hanging on the cross. 

I said, "No, absolutely no. I have no desire to be crucified. And a man who 

is crucified must have something wrong with him; otherwise who cares to 

crucify anybody? If his whole country, his people, decided to crucify him, 

then that man must be carrying something wrong with him. He may be a 

nice man, he may be a good man, but something must have led him to 

crucifixion. Perhaps he had a suicidal instinct. 

"The people who have suicidal instincts are not generally so courageous as 

to commit suicide, but they can manage to get others to murder them. And 

then you will never find that they had a suicidal instinct, that they prompted 

you to kill them so that the responsibility falls on you." 

I said, "I don't have any suicidal instinct in me. Perhaps he was not a 

suicidal man but certainly he was some kind of masochist. Just looking at 

his face--and I have seen many of his pictures-l see him looking so 

miserable, so deadly miserable, that I 

have tried standing before a mirror and looking as miserable as he looks, 

but I have failed. I have tried hard, but I cannot even make his face; how 

can I become Jesus Christ? That seems to be impossible. And why should 

I become Jesus Christ?" 

He was shocked. He said, "I thought you were interested in Jesus." 

I said, "I am certainly interested, more interested than you are, because you 

are a mere preacher, salaried. If you don't get a salary for three months you 

will be gone, and all your teaching will disappear." And that's what finally 

happened, because those Christian families were not permanent residents 

of the town--they were all railway employees, so sooner or later they got 

transferred. He was left alone with a small church that they had made. Now 

there was nobody to give money, to support him, nobody to listen to him 

except me. 

On Sundays he used to say, "Dear friends--" 

I would say, "Wait! Don't use the plural. There are no friends, just 'dear 

friend' will do. It is almost like two lovers talking; it is not a congregation. 

You can sit down- 

nobody is there. We can have a good chitchat. Why unnecessarily go on 

standing for one hour, and shout and..?" 

And that's how it happened. Within three months he was gone, because if 

you don't pay him... Although Jesus says, "Man cannot live by bread 

alone," man cannot live without bread either. He needs the bread. It may 

not be enough, he needs many more things, but many more things come 

only later on; first comes the bread. 

Man certainly can live by bread alone. He will not be much of a man--but 

who is much of a man? But nobody can live without bread, not even Jesus. 

I was going into the mosque, and they allowed me, because Christians, 

Mohammedans--these are converting religions; they want people from 

other folds to come to their fold: They were very happy seeing me there-- 

but the same question: "Would you like to become like Hazrat 

Mohammed?" I was surprised to know that nobody was interested in my 

just being myself, helping me to be myself. 

Everybody was interested in somebody else, the ideal, their ideal, and I 

have only to be a carbon copy? God has not given me any original face? I 

have to live with a borrowed face, with a mask, knowing that I don't have 

any face at all? Then how can life be a joy? Even your face is not yours. 

If you are not yourself, how can you be happy? 

The whole existence is blissful because the rock is rock, the tree is tree, the 

river is river, the ocean is ocean. Nobody is bothering to become somebody 

else; otherwise they would all go nuts. And that's what has happened to 

man. 

You are being taught from the very childhood not to be yourself, but the 

way it is said is very clever, cunning. They say, "You have to become like 

Krishna, like Buddha," and they paint Buddha and Krishna in such a way 

that a great desire arises in you to be a Buddha, to be a Jesus, to be a 

Krishna. This desire is the root cause of your misery. 

I was also told the same things that you have been told, but from my very 

childhood I made it a point that whatsoever the consequence I was not 

going to be deviated from myself. Right or wrong I am going to remain 

myself. Even if I end up in hell I will have at least the satisfaction that I 

followed my own course of life. If it leads to hell, then it leads to hell. 

Following others' advice and ideals and disciplines, even if I 

end up in paradise I will not be happy there, because I will have been 

forced against my will. 

Try to understand the point. If it is against your will, even in paradise you 

will be in hell. But following your natural course of being, even in hell you 

will be in paradise. 

Paradise is where your real being flowers. 

Hell is where you are crushed and something else is imposed on you. 

misery 15 

Hajj is the Mohammedan's holy pilgrimage, and Mohammed has said at 

least once in a life every Mohammedan has to do hajj. If you miss hajj you 

will not be allowed into paradise. So truth is not important, love is not 

important, compassion is not important; what is important is a pilgrimage to 

Mecca. And you can do everything else you want, but you should do hajj. 

Once a person does hajj he is called hajji. And that is a title that makes his 

paradise a certainty; all hajjis go to paradise. So even poor 

Mohammedans... 

In my village I have seen such poor Mohammedans collecting money, 

eating only one time a day so that at least once in their whole life., because 

it will need their life's savings. And I have seen people selling their houses, 

their land, borrowing money and remaining always in debt because they 

could not even pay the interest-- 

there was no question of paying the original money. And they have taken it 

at such high interest; nobody is going to give it to them at a low interest 

because everybody knows the money is never coming back. And there is 

every possibility that this man may die because hajj, in the old days, was 

almost a suicidal pilgrimage. Now it is a little better, but not much better. 

So at such a high interest, perhaps twenty-five percent per month, they 

have sold themselves for their whole lives, they have become slaves. Their 

house is gone, their land is gone, and whatsoever they earn they have to 

give in interest; but people will take this risk because without becoming a 

hajji there is no hope, person 19 

There are Mohammedans in India. .You will be surprised to know that India 

is not a Mohammedan country, but India has the largest population of 

Mohammedans in the whole world; no other country has a bigger 

population of Mohammedans. They have a certain festival every year in 

which they believe that the saints can be called back in a trance-like state 

in people. So in every place where there is a grave of a saint, many people 

will go into trance. And sometimes a few people will start speaking in 

trance. You can ask questions and they will answer, and it is thought that 

those answers are being given by the spirit of the saint. 

I never believed it for the simple reason, .in the first place whatever I had 

heard about the saint did not convince me that he was a saint. Simple 

qualities which are needed just to be human, even those were not there. 

For example, Mohammedans are all meat eaters. And they become saints 

if they convert many Hindus-even at the point of the sword, even if they kill 

to convert people. They have many wives, and most are Hindu women 

forcibly brought to their house-and Hindus are in a totally different world. If 

a woman has spent the night in a Mohammedan's house, she cannot be 

accepted back; she has fallen. So there is no way for her other than to 

become a Mohammedan or commit suicide. Her family's door is closed. 

So whatever I had heard about a saint in my birthplace, I didn't feel that 

there was anything saintly in it. And moreover, Mohammedans, just like 

Christians and Jews, believe only in one life, and I cannot accept that 

because it is my own experience 

that lives are continuously coming one after another. You don't have one 

life; you have many, hundreds, thousands. So when a person dies, whether 

he believes in one life or not doesn't matter, he will have to be born into 

another life. So after three hundred years, who is going to come? 

I was very young. I must have been ten years old when I became interested 

in this phenomenon of trance, in the people who were going into trance and 

answering. 

And people were worshipping them, bringing fruits and sweets, and rupees 

and clothes. I would just sit by their side with a long needle and go on 

jabbing the needle, and they would go on trying hard to keep me from doing 

that-and they are in trance! They are replying and in the middle of the reply 

they will just, .because my needle was there! 

They have a certain. .They bring the coffin of the saint out of the grave and 

the one who goes the deepest in trance, he takes it on his waist--they have 

certain arrangements--he holds it. There are ropes, four ropes; four other 

people are holding those four ropes and he dances. And I would go on 

doing my work, because it is a crowd thing. And certainly he would dance 

more; he would jump higher than anybody else. He would be angry with 

me, but he would get more sweets and more rupees and more clothes, and 

more people would be worshipping him. In fact he would become the 

topmost person, the one who has gone deepest into the trance. 

And afterwards he would meet me and he would say, "It hurts, but no harm. 

You can come.." 

I said, "In fact you should share. Those things have come to you because of 

my needle, not because of your trance. And if you don't share, I can change 

people; I can go to any other. There are fifteen people dancing." 

"No, no," he would say. "Don't go. You can take your share. Without you I 

cannot manage." 

It became., others became also aware, what is the point? Wherever this 

boy is, only there the spirit comes. So others asked me, "What is the reason 

that wherever you are the spirit comes?" 

I said, "I am a spiritual person. If you want to have a taste, I can give it in 

your side. 

People will come. But don't get angry at me." 

None of them was in trance. I tried all of them. None of them was in trance; 

they were all pretending. But thousands of people believe. 

One can go into trance but it is really a kind of deep hypnosis. It can't do 

any harm to you, but it has nothing spiritual in it. And it is never a 

superconscious state. 

I became so much known to these people that one day before the festival 

they would start coming to me: "Please help me. Don't go to anybody else. I 

promise, half and half we will share. But you have to promise to come to 

me." 

I said, "Don't be worried. I will see, because I have many other clients. Who 

is going to give me more and who is strong enough because this needle., 

for one or two hours I have to go on giving injections. An ordinary man may 

break down and may simply shout, 1 don't want all this. Stop! This needle is 

too much.'" 

A few of them came to me and said, "Can't you bring a smaller needle?" 

I said, "No, this is a special needle. Without it I cannot work." 

My father said, "Why do these Mohammedans come to you?--and just 

before their festival?" That day he had been watching. He said, "I have 

seen almost ten persons come to you and I don't see the point. Why?" 

I said, "You don't know." I showed him the needle. 

He said, "I cannot connect." 

I said, "This is their trance." 

He said, "My God, so you are doing this business!" 

I said, "They are doing business. I am just a partner. And my work is very 

simple. I just have to keep the person dancing higher than others, giving 

him more and more energy with the needle. Naturally more people are 

attracted towards him. Others by and by slow down, seeing that nobody is 

coming to them. He becomes the center of the whole festival. And if they 

offer me half of their share.. ?" 

He said, "You are strange. I have been telling you to come to the temple. 

You won't come, and you have started going to the mosque to do this 

business. And this business., if somebody comes to know about it, it can 

create a riot in the town--that you are disturbing their people who are in 

trance." 

I said, "You don't be worried. Nobody can say this, because I know all of 

them, and they are all dependent on me. Their trance is dependent on my 

needle. Before I entered into this business, they were just jumping slowly 

because the dead body is too much of a weight. They need some energy." 

My father said, "I don't understand you. You call this needle energy?" 

I said, "You should come and see"--and he came. He saw me, and he saw 

that it was true that the person I was with had the most presents and he 

was jumping high, higher. He could see on his face, .each time I had to use 

the needle his face would go- 

-because it was a big needle. But it was a question of competition, too. 

Those fifteen people., and nobody said anything to anybody else, because 

then they would be exposing themselves--that they were all fake, nobody 

was true. 

In all the Mohammedan countries around the world this goes on happening 

every year, and millions of people are befooled--there is no trance. 

Trance is possible but for that you need a certain training in auto-hypnosis. 

Or, you may have a natural tendency of falling unconscious.