Monthly Archives: September 2008

Osho on Gitanjali, Rabindranath Tagore Gitanjali



Osho on Gitanjali, Rabindranath Tagore Gitanjali - It happened… a very significiant incident. One of the Indian poets, Rabindranath Tagore, translated one of his small books of poems, GITANJALI, “Offering of Songs.” He was awarded the Nobel prize for that small book.

In India it was available for at least fifteen years. But unless a book meets the international standards of language and gains international appreciation, it is difficult for it to get a Nobel prize. Rabindranath himself was a little worried, because he translated it and to translate poetry is always a very difficult affair.

To translate prose is simple; to translate poetry is immensely difficult, because prose is of the marketplace and poetry is something of the world of love, of the world of beauty, of the world of moon and stars. It is a delicate affair.

And every language has its own nuances which are almost untranslatable. Although the poet himself translated his own poetry, he was doubtful about the translation. So he showed it to one of the Christian missionaries, a very famous man of those days, C.F. Andrews — a very literate, cultured, sophisticated man.

Andrews suggested four changes. He said, “Everything else is right, but in four places it is not grammatically right.”

So Rabindranath simply accepted his advice, and changed those four places. In London, his friend, the Irish poet Yeats, called a meeting of English poets to hear the translation of Rabindranath. Everybody appreciated it. The beauty of it was something absolutely new to the Western world.

But Yeats, who was the most prominent poet of England in those days, said, “Everything else is right, but in four places it seems that somebody who is not a poet has made some changes.”
Rabindranath could not believe it. He said, “Where are those four places?”

Yeats pointed out the four places exactly.
Rabindranath said, “What is wrong?”

He said, “There is nothing wrong, they are grammatically correct. But poetically… whoever suggested them is a man who knows his grammar but does not know poetry. He is a man of the mind but not a man of the heart. The flow is obstructed, as if a river had come across a rock.”
Rabindranath told him, “I asked C.F. Andrews; these are his words. I will tell you the words that I put there before.”

And when he put his words in, Yeats said, “They are perfectly right although grammatically wrong. But grammar is not important. When it is a question of poetry, grammar is not important. You change it back, use your own words.”

I have always been thinking that there are ways of the mind, there are ways of the heart; they need not be supportive of each other. And if it happens that the mind is not in agreement with the heart, then the mind is wrong. Its agreement or disagreement does not matter. What matters is that your heart feels at ease, peaceful, silent, harmonious, at home.

We are trained for the mind, so our mind is very articulate. And nobody takes any care of the heart. In fact, it is pushed aside by everybody because it is of no use in the marketplace, it is no use in the world of ambitions, no use in politics, no use in business.

But with me, the situation is just the opposite — the mind is of no use. The heart….
Everything happens, just your heart has to be ready to receive it.

Everything comes, but if your heart is closed…. The secret laws of life are such that the doors of your heart will not even be knocked on. Existence knows how to wait; it can wait for eternity.
It all depends on you. Everything is ready to happen any moment. Just open all your doors, all your windows, so that existence can pour into you from every side. There is no other god than existence, and there is no other paradise than your very being.

When existence pours into your being, paradise has entered into you — or you have entered into paradise, just different ways of saying the same thing. But remember: nothing is expected of you.

Osho Mulla Nasrudin Jokes, Mulla Nasrudin Jokes

Osho Mulla Nasrudin Jokes, Mulla Nasrudin Jokes

  1. Mulla Nasrudin was saying to me, ‘Love is blind and marriage is an eye-opener.’

  2. One day Mulla Nasrudin was catching flies. He caught a few, and he told his wife, ‘I have found two female flies and two male flies.’
    The woman said, ‘This is surprising. How could you discover the sex of the flies?’
    He said, ‘Two were sitting on the mirror and two were reading the newspaper!’
  3. Mulla Nasrudin was saying to me one day that he never quarrels with his wife. I asked him, ‘How do you manage it? It is almost impossible, or next to impossible.’
    He said, ‘We have managed it perfectly well for many years. On the first night we decided a single principle, and we have followed it. And the principle is: she decides about small things and I decide about big things.’

    I asked, ‘What do you mean by small things and big things?’ He said, ‘For example, what car to purchase, what house to live in, what school the children have to be sent to, what food has to be eaten, what clothes have to be purchased — all these small things she decides.’ And I said, ‘What do you decide?’

    He said, ‘Whether God exists or not, whether there is a hell and heaven or not. All the great problems — that is for me. And the principle has worked out perfectly well. She never interferes in the great things, I never interfere in the small things. I am master of my own world, she is master of her own world. We never overlap.’

  4. Mulla Nasruddin was sitting, very sad, in front of his house. A neighbor asked, “Mulla, why are you looking so sad?”
    And Mulla said, “Look! Fifteen days ago my uncle died and he left me fifty thousand rupees.”
    The neighbor said, “But this is no reason to be sad! You should be happy.”
    Mulla said, “First you listen to the whole story. And seven days ago my other uncle died and left me seven thousand rupees. And now, nothing…. Nobody is dying, nothing is happening. The week is passing by, and I am really sad.”
  5. Mulla Nasruddin went to a doctor, told him to check him and said, “Please, tell me in plain language. I don’t want any of the abracadabra of medical science. You simply tell me plainly what the problem is with me. Don’t use big names in Latin and Greek. Simply say in plain language what exactly is the matter with me.”
    The doctor checked and he said, “If you want to know exactly, in plain language — there is nothing wrong with you, you are simply lazy.”
    He said, “Good. Thank you. Now give it a fancy name to tell my wife. And the bigger the name, the better. Make it as difficult as you can.”

Osho story on Surdas, Saint Surdas

Osho story on Surdas, Saint Surdas - There is a story in India about a saint, Surdas. I don’t think it is true. If it is true then Surdas is not a saint. Surdas can only be a saint if the story is untrue. I am ready to say that the story is untrue; I cannot say Surdas is untrue. He is so authentic, his insight is so pure — then the story must be wrong.
The story is: Surdas left the world. He was moving in a town. He saw a beautiful woman — he followed almost as if a magnet was pulling him. Started feeling guilty too! He is a sannyasin, renounced the world — what is he doing? But he was incapable of controlling himself, so the story goes.
He went to the woman, he asked for food — but that was just an excuse. Then he started to go to the same woman every day: just to have a look at her face, just to have a look into her eyes, just to have a little contact. He started dreaming about her. The whole day he was continuously thinking and fantasizing, and was waiting for the next day when he would be able to go to the woman again.
Then, by and by, he became aware that he was getting into a trap. And the story says that because it was his eyes that made him aware of the beauty of the woman, he destroyed his eyes and became a blind man.
I say, and I say it categorically, this story is simply invented — because this is so foolish! Surdas cannot do it. It must have been invented by other blind people; it must have been invented by other stupid people who always go on inventing stupid things. It is stupid because eyes cannot do anything — it is the mind. It is the mind that approaches through the eyes. It is the mind that approaches through the hand.
When you hit somebody or you kill somebody, it is not the hand that is the murderer — it is you. And it is not going to help if you cut your hand. And you cannot go to the court and say to the magistrate, “It was my hand.”
It happened once in a court that a man argued this way. He said, “It is my hand which has killed.” The magistrate was also very clever and cunning — they have to be clever and cunning because they have to deal with clever and cunning people. They have the same logic.
The magistrate said, “You are right, you are absolutely logical: you have not killed — your hands have killed. So your hands will remain in the prison. You can go home, but the hands cannot go.” So the hands were chained and the magistrate said, “Why don’t you go now?”
He said, “How can I go without the hands?”
And the magistrate said, “If you cannot go without the hands, how can the hands do something without you? You are both partners. And in fact the hand is simply a servant — you are the master.”

Osho on Jesus Stories, Jesus Stories



Osho on Jesus Story
My work is done as far as I am concerned because I am done. Now the energy has become a compassion and an overflowing, and all those who really want to taste are invited to do so without any condition. You are not to give anything, you simply are to take. No discipline, no bargain- nothing is expected on your part. It is a gift. It has always been so, it will always be so; the ultimate bliss is always a gift. That’s why we have been calling it grace, PRASAD… as if the divine gives to you out of his overflowing energy.


I will tell you one story Jesus used to say. He repeated it many times- he must have loved this story. He said, “Once it happened, a very rich man needed some laborers in his garden to work, so he sent a man to the marketplace. All the laborers who were available were called and they started working in the garden. Then others heard and they came in the afternoon. Then others heard and they came just when the sun was setting. But he employed them.

And when the sun went down, he gathered all of them and paid them equally. Obviously those who had come in the morning became disappointed and said, “What injustice! What type of injustice is this? What are you doing? We came in the morning and we worked the whole day and these fellows came in the afternoon; just for two hours they worked. And a few have just come, they have not worked at all. This is injustice!”

The rich man laughed and said, “Don’t think of others. Whatever I have given to you is it not enough?” They said, “It is more than enough, but it is injustice. Why are these people getting when they have just come?” The rich man said, “I give them because I have got too much, out of my abundance I give them. You need not be worried about this. You have got more than you expected so don’t compare.

I am not giving them because of their work, I am giving them because I have got too much… out of my abundance.” Jesus said some work very hard to achieve the divine, some come just in the afternoon and some when the sun is setting, and they all get the same divine. Those who had come in the morning must object: “this is too much!”

Osho on Jesus and Lazarus – You Have heard the story of Lazarus — that is a story of man as such. It is said Lazarus died. Jesus loved him very much. His sisters informed Jesus; by the time the news reached him, Lazarus had been dead for four days. Jesus came running. Everybody was crying and weeping, and he said, “Don’t weep, don’t cry! Let me call him back to life!”

Nobody could believe him. Lazarus is dead! And the sisters of Lazarus said, “He is now stinking — he cannot come back. His body is deteriorating.” But Jesus went to the grave where the body was preserved for him to come. The stone was pulled aside. In the dark cave Jesus called out, “Lazarus, come out! ” And it is said he came out. It may not have happened that way; it may be just a parable — but it is a beautiful parable about man.
When I look into your eyes, that’s all I can say: “Lazarus, come out!” You are dead and stinking. You are not yet alive. You are born, but you need to be reborn. Your first birth has not been of much help. It has brought you to a certain extent, but that is not enough. You have to go a little further. The birth that has already happened to you is only physical — you need a spiritual birth.

Osho on jesus and Nicodemus
It is said: One professor of Jerusalem university went to see Jesus. Of course, he went in the night. His name was Nicodemus; he was a very rich, respectable man, a great scholar, well known in the Jewish world. He was afraid to go to Jesus in the daylight, because what will people think? He was known to be a great, learned man, wise — what will they think? that he has gone to this carpenter’s son to ask something?
He was older than Jesus — could almost have been Jesus’ father. No, it was not possible for him to go in the daylight. Cunning and clever, he went in the night when there was nobody else. And Jesus asked him, “Why didn’t you come in the day?” He said, “I was afraid.” Jesus must have laughed. He said, “Nicodemus, for what have you come? What do you want of me?”
He said, “I would like to know how I can know God, how I can know the truth.” Jesus said, “You will have to be reborn.” Nicodemus could not understand. Jokingly he said, “What do you mean? Have I to enter again into a woman’s womb? Are you joking or something? Are you kidding or something?” Jesus said, “No, I mean it — I mean what I say. You have to be reborn. You are such a coward. This is not life. You don’t have any courage. You will have to be reborn! You will have to become a new man, because only that new man can come to truth and realize it.
Even to see me you have come in the night. How will you be able to go and see the truth? How will you encounter God? You will have to go naked. You will have to go in deep humility. You will have to drop all your respectability, all your scholarship. You will have to drop your ego — that’s what to be reborn means.”
The first birth is only a physical birth; don’t be satisfied with it. It is necessary but not enough. A second birth is needed. The first birth was through your mother and father; the second birth is going to be out of the mind. You have to slip out of the mind and that will be your rebirth — you will be reborn.

Osho on Gurdjieff Stories, George Gurdjieff Stories

Osho on Gurdjieff Stories, George Gurdjieff Stories
George Gurdjieff used to tell a story… there was a magician who had many sheep. And it was a trouble to get them home from the forest every night — wild animals were there, and he was losing many of his sheep. Finally the idea came to him, “Why do I not use my expertise, my magic?”
He hypnotized all his sheep and told them different things. To one sheep he said, “You are a lion. You need not be afraid; you are the king amongst the animals.” To another he said, “You are a tiger,” to another, “You are a man.” And he told to everybody, to all the sheep: “You are not going to be butchered because you are not sheep, so you need not be afraid to come back home. You should come early, before nightfall.”
And from that day no sheep went missing. In fact, from that day no sheep was behaving like a sheep: somebody was roaring like a lion, somebody was behaving like a man, and nobody was afraid of being butchered, killed — the very question was irrelevant. And the magician was butchering them every day for his food. They may have been roaring like lions — that did not matter; they were sheep after all.
But he managed very beautifully. Giving one sheep the notion of being a lion, there was no need now to be bothered that he would try to escape, seeing that other sheep are being killed. Still sheep were being killed, but this sheep will know, “I am a lion, I am not a sheep. Sheep are bound to be killed!”
When he is killed, others will be thinking, “He was just a sheep, we are men. And he was not only a sheep, but a foolish sheep who used to think that he is a lion, and never listened to us. We argued many times, `You are a sheep. We are men, we know better. You stop roaring, that is not going to help.’” But the magician was in absolute control.
The story Gurdjieff was telling was about your religious leaders. They have managed to tell you things which you are not. They have managed to convince you that you know things which you know not. And this is the greatest crime that can be committed. But you cannot call them criminals, because they are not doing it to harm you. They are trying to serve you, they are trying to help you.
Osho on Gurdjieff Stories, George Gurdjieff Stories
It reminds me of a story George Gurdjieff used to tell his closest disciples. The story is about a great past master, a buddha, who had a self-appointed right-hand man who was a faithful follower for year after year. And when the master was in his room on his deathbed, all of the followers silently waited by the door not knowing what to do and incapable of believing that their mystical master was really dying.
Finally, through the sorrowful stillness, the master’s voice was faintly heard to call the name of the right-hand man, and all of the followers looked at him intently as he made his way to the master’s door. As he reached for the knob he glanced at the peering faces around him and imagined their envy and respect for him at being the only one to be called to the master’s side during his final moments.
He already imagined how after the master’s death he would slowly emerge from the room as the new head of the system, a veritable Peter-of-the-Rock. Quietly he entered the darkened room and slowly he made his way and knelt by the bed. The old master nodded for him to come nearer, and he leaned over with his awaiting ear by the old man’s mouth, and the master whispered, “Fuck you.”
Osho on Gurdjieff Stories, George Gurdjieff Stories
Gurdjieff used to tell a story: A very, rich man went on a pilgrimage. He had many servants and a very, big palace where he lived alone with all these servants. He called all the servants and told them, “One by one, by rotation, you have to be on guard. I don’t know how much time I am going to take, it may be many years; the journey is long, the pilgrimage is hazardous. I may come back, I may not come back, but the palace, the garden, everything has to be present as it is.”
They said, “Of course. Whatsoever you say we will do.”
The man went away. Months passed, years passed. By and by the servants started completely forgetting that they were servants because the master had been gone so long. Man’s memory is not that long, and there are things which one does not really want to remember. One’s being a slave and somebody being the master who wants to remember that?
Each servant had to guard the palace in rotation, and when each servant was guarding, he would pretend that he was the master. Anybody coming to the palace or passing by would ask, “Whose palace is this?” The servant would answer, “It is my palace, my garden. Don’t you like it?”
This was happening with all the guards.
Years passed; the guards completely forgot about the master and that he was going to return. “By now he must be dead, something must have happened. And it is good that we got rid of that fellow — now we are the masters.” They declared to the whole town, “We are the masters” — and the town had also forgotten the master. It was long before — only old people remembered that somebody had been there, but it was only very vaguely. When he went, where he went, and what happened to him, nobody was aware.
But one day, the master appeared; he knocked on the door. The slaves looked at him and suddenly fell at his feet: “Master, you are back!”
He said, “I told you I would come back, even though it may take a long time.”
They said, “Forgive us, because the city people will say we have committed a crime against you. We had forgotten you completely, and we enjoyed being the master so much that we declared that we were the masters — and the city believes that we are the masters.”
Gurdjieff used to tell this story, saying that the same is the case with the watcher. The watcher is absent; the mind — which is just a slave — is pretending to be the master. And it is not a question of a few years — for millions of years the master has been absent. Perhaps the master has never been home; there is no question that he had gone, because once he arrives he never goes. So your thoughts, and the combination of thoughts which you call your mind, certainly, confidently believe that they are the master.
Just tn, to watch your thoughts. Remember one thing: Thought itself cannot watch another thought — that is impossible. A thought cannot become a watcher of another thought; so when in your mind the thought arises, “I am watching,” you have missed, because it is a thought. When the watcher is there you will not even have the idea of “Aha! Got it!” Lost it! You were just on the verge of getting it and Werner Erhard entered, and EST finished everything: “Got it!” Even that much, just two words, is enough; the mind is back.
It is always the mind that gets it, or does not get it; the watcher si
mply watches. No idea is formed, just absolute silence prevails. And in that moment is the seeing, knowing, experiencing — without any thought. Can’t you experience anything without any thought? You will have to learn, because mind has been trained for centuries just to think every experience in words.

Osho on Sufi Stories, Sufi Stories

Osho on Sufi Stories, Selected Sufi Stories
I have often told a Sufi story. A man renounces the world, his wife, his home. He is young and he is going in search of a master. Just outside his village under a tree, an old man is sitting. The sun is just setting, and darkness is descending. The young man asks the old man, “You look as if you are a traveler; you certainly don’t belong to my village.

I am a young man and I am in search of a master. You are old; perhaps you have come across a master in your journeys, and will be kind enough to help me with some directives, some guidelines — because I am feeling at a loss, where to go.” The old man said, “I will give you exact details. The master looks like this” — and he described the face of the master, the eyes of the master, the nose of the master, the beard of the master, his robe. “
And he sits under a certain tree” — and he described the tree. And he said, “You will find him; just remember these details. Whenever you find a man who fulfills these criteria, you have found your master.” Thirty years passed. The young man became old, tired. He never came across anybody fitting the description given by the old man. Finally he gave up the whole idea of finding a master: “Perhaps there is no master anywhere.”
He went back to his village. And as he was entering the village, under the same tree… It was sunrise, there was more light. The old man had become very old. The last time they had met he must have been sixty; now he was ninety.
And because for thirty years the man had been looking for certain eyes, a certain nose, a certain beard, a certain robe, a certain tree…. As he saw the tree and he saw the old man he said, “My God, so you were describing yourself! Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you force me to travel unnecessarily around the world for thirty years searching for you, while you were sitting here?”
The old man said, “First throw out all your tantrums and your anger; then I will tell you the truth. Thirty years ago you were too young. The time was not right; it was sunset, darkness was descending. And you were in such a hurry to go in search, that if I had told you that I was the master you would have laughed and said, `This is strange that you are sitting just outside my village!’ And you cannot blame me because I explained every detail, but your eyes were looking far away.
You were listening to me, but you were not looking to see that I was describing my eyes, my nose, my beard, my robe, that I was describing the tree under which I was sitting. You were not ripe. “These thirty years have not gone to waste; they have matured you. Now you can recognize me. Just look; it is sunrise, the right time. And it is not the beginning of your journey, you had already given up. I am meeting you at the end of thirty years of long, arduous effort.
That which you can get cheap you cannot recognize. You had to pay these thirty years and all the troubles that you went through just to be mature enough to recognize me. “I could have told you on that day too — but it would have been pointless, and you would have missed me. “And you think you have been in trouble for thirty years?
Just think about me — for thirty years I have been sitting under the same tree, because I described this tree. I have not left it for a single day because I was aware that any moment you might come, and if you didn’t find me here I would have been proved to have spoken lies. I have been sitting here for thirty years continuously — day in, day out; summer, winter, rain, but I have been sitting here.
And you see I am old. I was worried that if I died before you came back, it would be a tragedy. So I have been trying to somehow cling to life — because as far as I am concerned there is nothing left; I have realized myself. Life has given everything that it can give. I have been sitting just for you.” The story is strange, but significant. It takes time to realize that which you are.
Osho on Sufi Stories, Sufi Stories
I will tell you a Sufi story. Mulla Nasruddin has applied for a job on a ship. He is being interviewed, and the captain and the high officials of the company are asking questions. The captain asks, “If the waters are in a turmoil, and the wind is blowing very strong and there is a danger of the ship being upturned or swayed into a direction it does not want to go, what are you going to do?”
He said, “Simple, I will throw out an anchor.”
The captain said, “That’s right. But suppose another storm comes up; what are you going to do?
He said, “Nothing else; I will throw out another anchor.”
The captain said, “It is right, but suppose a third storm comes up. What are you going to do?”
He said, “The same! I will throw out an anchor.”
And the captain said, “But from where are you getting these anchors?”
And Mulla Nasruddin said, “From where are you getting these storms? From the same place!”
Osho on Sufi Stories, Sufi Stories
I have told you the story of a Sufi mystic. One night in Baghdad, the king heard somebody walking on the roof of his palace. He shouted, “Who is there? And what are you doing there?”
The man was not a thief. Without any fear he said, “Don’t shout, that may disturb other people’s sleep. It is none of your business. I am looking for my camel. My camel is lost and it is time for you to go to sleep.”
The king could not believe what kind of madman could be on the roof of a palace searching for his camel. He called the guards and they searched all over the place but could not find the man. And the next day when he was sitting in his court he heard the same voice again; he recognized it.
The king immediately said, “Bring that man in,” because he was arguing with the guard in front of the gate that he wanted to stay in the caravanserai.
And the guard said, “You will be getting into problems unnecessarily. This is the palace of the king; this is not a caravanserai.”
The man said, “I know it is a caravanserai and you are just a guard. Don’t bother me. Just let me go in. I want to discuss the matter with the king himself. If I can convince him that this is a caravanserai then I will stay. If he can convince me it is not a caravanserai, then of course I will leave. But I won’t listen to you; you are just a guard.”
And just at that moment the message came from inside, “Don’t stop that man. We are in search of him; bring him in.”
The Sufi mystic was called in and the king said, “You seem to be a very strange fellow. I recognize your voice. You were the man on the roof searching for your c
amel and now you are calling my place, my home, a caravanserai.”
The man laughed and said, “You seem to be a man of some understanding. It is possible to talk with you. Yes, it was me who was looking for the camel on the roof of the palace. Don’t think that I’m insane. If you can look for blissfulness sitting on a golden throne, if you can look for God while continuously conquering and butchering and burning living human beings, what is wrong in searching for a camel on the roof of the palace? You tell me!
“If I am inconsistent you are also not consistent. And what right have you got to call this place your home, because I have been here before and on the same golden throne I have seen another man sitting. He looked just like you — a little older.”
The king said, “He was my father. Now he’s dead.” And the mystic said, “I was here even before that and I found another man. He also looked a little bit like you but very old.” The king said, “You are right, he was my grandfather.” And the mystic said, “What happened to him?” The king said, “He is dead.”
And the mystic said, “When are you going to die? They also believed that this is their home. I have argued with your grandfather. Now the poor fellow is in the grave. I have argued with your father; that poor fellow is also in the grave. Now I am arguing with you and someday I will come back again and I will be arguing with your son and you will be in a grave. So what kind of home is this where people go on changing? It is a caravanserai. It is just an overnight stay, and then one has to go.”
The king was shocked but was silent. The whole court was silent. The man was right. And the mystic finally said, “If you really want to know where your home is, go to the graveyard where finally you will have to settle, where your grandfather is, where your father is. That is the real place that you can call your home, but not this palace. Here I am going to stay as if it is a caravanserai.”
The king was certainly not an ordinary man. He stood up and told the mystic, “Forgive me, I was wrong. You are right. You can stay as long as you want. I am going in search of my real home. This is not my real home.”
This world is only a caravanserai.

Osho discourse on "every thing is Good as it is"

Osho discourse on “every thing is Good as it is”
Just explaining this to you: that there is no goal, that there is nothing to achieve, that everything is good as it is.
I will tell you a Sufi story:
There is a story told by Sufis about a man who read that certain dervishes, on the orders of their Master, never touched meat and did not smoke. Since this tends to fit in with certain well-established beliefs, especially in the West, this man made his way to the ZAWIA — assembly place — of the illuminated ones, to sit at their feet. They were all over ninety years old.
Sure enough, there they were, not a spot of nicotine or shred of animal protein among them, and our hero gasped with delight as he sat drinking in the unpolluted air and tasting the bean-curd soup which they provided. He hoped that he would at least live to a hundred.
Suddenly one of them whispered, “Here comes the great Master!” And all stood up as the venerable sage came in. He smiled benignly and went into the house, heading for his quarters. He did not look a day over fifty.
“How old is he, and what does he eat?” asked the enraptured visitor.
“He is one hundred and fifty years old, and I don’t suppose any of us will reach that venerable age and station,” wheezed one of the ancients. “But, of course, he is allowed twenty cigars and three steaks a day, since he is now beyond being affected by frivolities and temptations!”
It is a beautiful story. There comes a moment when a man goes beyond all duality — then he is allowed everything. I can talk about the future because I live in the present — it is allowed! And I can talk about saving the world from the third world war because I have no desires left — it is allowed. I can go on teaching you day in, day out, year in, year out, saying continuously, hammering continuously: “There is no goal, no purpose, nothing to achieve.” Still it is allowed to me to teach you.

Osho on Ramakrishna Stories, Ramakrishna Stories


Osho on Ramakrishna Stories, Ramakrishna Stories

Ramakrishna used to tell a beautiful story. A bird was flying with a dead mouse and twenty or thirty birds were chasing him. The bird was very much worried. ‘I am not doing anything to them, I am just carrying my dead mouse. They are all after me.’ And they hit him hard and in the conflict, in the struggle, the bird opened his mouth and the mouse dropped.

Immediately they all flew towards the mouse; they all forgot about him. Then he sat upon a tree and brooded. They were not against him, they were also on the same trip — they wanted the mouse. If people are hurting you, open your mouth. You must be carrying a dead mouse! Drop it! And then sit — if you can, sit on the tree or under the tree and brood. And suddenly you will see that they have forgotten about you. They are not concerned. They never were concerned. The ego is a dead mouse.
Osho on Ramakrishna Stories, Ramakrishna Stories
I will tell you one anecdote Ramakrishna loved to tell. He used to say: Once it happened that there was a great festival near a sea, on the beach. Thousands of people were gathered there and suddenly they all became engrossed in a question — whether the sea is immeasurable or measurable; whether there is a bottom to it or not; fathomable or unfathomable? By chance, one man completely made of salt was also there.
He said, ‘You wait, and you discuss, and I will go into the ocean and find out, because how can one know unless one goes into it?’
So the man of salt jumped into the ocean. Hours passed, days passed, then months passed, and people started to go to their homes. They had waited long enough, and the man of salt was not coming back.
The man of salt, the moment he entered the ocean, started melting, and by the time he reached the bottom he was not. He came to know — but he couldn’t come back. And those who didn’t know, they discussed it for a long time. They may have arrived at some conclusions, because the mind loves to reach conclusions.
Once a conclusion is reached, mind feels at ease — hence so many philosophies exist. All philosophies exist to fulfill a need: the mind asks and the mind cannot remain with the question, it is uneasy; to remain with the question feels inconvenient. An answer is needed — even if it is false it will do; mind is put at rest.
To go and take a jump into the sea is dangerous. And remember, Ramakrishna is true: we are all men of salt as far as the ocean is concerned — the ocean of life and death. We are men of salt, we will melt into it because we come out of it. We are made by it, of it. We will melt!
So mind is always afraid of going into the ocean; it is made of salt, it is bound to dissolve. It is afraid, so it remains on the bank, discussing things, debating, arguing, creating theories: all false — because they are based on fear. A courageous man will take the jump, and he will resist accepting any answer which is not known by himself.

Osho on Ramakrishna Stories, Ramakrishna Stories
It happened: A few people were beating a fisherman. Ramakrishna was moving from one bank to another of the Ganges, near Dakshineshwar. On the other shore a few people were beating a man. Ramakrishna was in the middle of the stream. He started crying and weeping, and he started shouting, “Stop, don’t beat me!”
People who were sitting around him, his disciples, could not believe what was happening: “Who is beating you? Who can beat him?” They said, “What are you saying, PARAMAHANSADEVA? Have you gone mad?” He said, “Look! They are beating me there on the other side.” Then they looked; a few persons were beating a man, and Ramakrishna said, “Look at my back.” He uncovered his back — there were marks, blood was coming out.
It was impossible to believe. They went, they rushed to the other shore, caught hold of the man who was beaten. They uncovered his back: exactly the same marks. This is empathy — putting oneself into somebody else’s place so totally that what is happening to him starts happening to you. Then compassion arises. But these states are all of no-mind.
Osho on Ramakrishna Stories, Ramakrishna Stories
I am reminded of Ramakrishna. A painter made his portrait, and he brought the painting to show Ramakrishna — to see whether he liked it or not. The disciples were also gathered there.
Ramakrishna looked at the painting and touched the feet of the painting. His disciples — Vivekananda and others — felt embarrassed — “What to do with our master? — because he does such things that even we look like fools.
Now it is his own picture, and he is touching its feet. We had no idea that he would do this; otherwise, we would have prevented him. And now he has done it, and people are laughing and smiling and looking at each other.”
There were many observers there who were not disciples. They said, “They think this man is a realized soul? He seem to be insane! Even an insane person will not touch his own feet; at least he will recognize that `This is my own portrait; I cannot touch its feet.’”
The painter was also shocked, but he was not a disciple. So he gathered courage and asked Ramakrishna, “I cannot believe my eyes. This is your own portrait and you are touching your own feet! It looks a little awkward.”
And Ramakrishna’s eyes were full of tears of joy. He said, “It is my picture, I know, but I am not touching the feet because it is my picture. I am touching the feet because you have caught my state of samadhi in the picture. And when I see a picture of someone in samadhi… it does not matter whether that picture is of me or somebody else — that is irrelevant.
What matters is that the picture is of a self-realized consciousness, then I have to touch its feet. And I cannot see why you are all looking so embarrassed.” Now they all felt more embarrassed: “We are such idiots. We don’t understand; we should at least keep quiet. If we don’t understand, then it is better not to show any emotion. He has done something which nobody has done before, but his reason is so valid.”

Osho on Jesus parable, Secret parable of Jesus Christ

Osho – One of Jesus’ very significant parables has been lost completely. Just a reference is made to it in LUKE, but the complete parable is not in any of the authorized gospels, not even in the fifth gospel of Thomas. Some hidden sources, some secret societies, have continuously been meditating on that parable.

I would like to tell it to you. The parable is so significant that it may be because of its significance that it has not been included in the authorized gospels. The parable seems to be dangerous. The implications of it are of tremendous import and significance.
The parable is about someone secretly sowing weeds in a wheat field while the master and his servants slept. The servants were all for cutting them quickly out, but the master said that at harvest time one could more effectively separate the wheat from the tares.
The servants consulted together, saying, “It would be much better to pull out those weeds right now rather than wait, but we must obey the master even when he is wrong. In the meantime, let us look for the enemy who would do this evil thing to our master who is so kind to everyone and doesn’t deserve this treatment.”
They quietly inquired and made a search of the whole region, but they could not find anyone; they could not find the enemy. One of the servants came privately to the chief steward at night saying, “Sir, forgive me, but I can no longer bear to conceal my secret. I know the enemy who sowed the tares. I saw him do it.”
At this, the chief steward was astonished and full of anger. But before punishing him, he demanded of the servant why he had not come forward sooner.
“I dared not,” cried the servant. “I scarcely dared to come and tell you this even now. I was awake the night the weeds were sown, I saw the man who did it. He walked past me, seemingly awake and yet asleep. He did not appear to recognize me, but I recognized him.”
“And who was he indeed? ” asked the chief steward in great excitement. “Tell me so he can be punished.”
The servant hung his head. Finally, in a low voice, he replied, “It was the master himself.”
And the two agreed to say nothing of this to any man.
The enemy is not outside. If it was outside, it would not have been difficult to get rid of him. You could have escaped. But you cannot escape from the enemy because it is within.
The beloved, the friend, is also not outside. Otherwise you could have searched, and once found by one man, there would have been no difficulty for others to follow. Just as it happens in science: the truth is outside.
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