NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis. Cobalah selami apa
Osho's grandparents, Nani and Nana
For most of my very early years I lived with my mother's parents. Those
years are unforgettable. Even if I reach to Dante's paradise I will still
remember those years. A small village, poor people, but my grandfather--I
mean my mother's father--was a generous man. He was poor, but rich in his
generosity. He gave to each and everyone whatsoever he had. I learned the
art of giving from him; I have to accept it. I never saw him say no to any
beggar or anybody.
I called my mother's father "Nana"; that's the way the mother's father is
called in India. My mother's mother is called "Nani." I used to ask my
grandfather, "Nana, where did you get such a beautiful wife?"
My grandmother looked more Greek than Indian....
Perhaps there was some Greek blood in her. No race can claim purity. The
Indians particularly should not claim any purity of blood--the Hunas, the
Moguls, the Greeks and many others have attacked, conquered and ruled
India. They have mixed themselves in the Indian blood, and it was so
apparent with my grandmother. Her features were not Indian, she looked
Greek, and she was a strong woman, very strong.
My Nana died when he was not more than fifty. My grandmother lived till
eighty and she was fully healthy. Even then nobody thought she was going to
die. I promised her one thing, that when she died I would come, and that
would be my last visit to the family. She died in 1970. I had to fulfill my
For my first years I knew my Nani as my mother; those are the years when
one grows. This circle* is for my Nani. My own mother came after that; I
was already grown up, already made in a certain style. And my grandmother
helped me immensely. My grandfather loved me, but could not help me much.
He was so loving, but to be of help more is needed--a certain kind of
strength. He was always afraid of my grandmother. He was, in a sense, a
henpecked husband. When it comes to the truth, I am always true. He loved
me, he helped me...what can I do if he was a henpecked husband? Ninety-nine
point nine percent of husbands are, so it is okay. [glimps02]
[*Note: circle: reminiscences of a series of events, which are now seen to
be interconnected, forming a circle]
This too is worth noting: that ninety years ago, in India, Nani had had the
courage to fall in love. She remained unmarried up till the age of
twenty-four. That was very rare. I asked her once why she had remained
unmarried for so long. She was such a beautiful woman...I just jokingly
told her that even the king of Chhatarpur, the state where Khajuraho is,
might have fallen in love with her.
She said, "It is strange that you should mention it, because he did. I
refused him, and not only him but many others too." In those days in India,
girls were married when they were seven, or at the most nine years of age.
Just the fear of love...if they are older they may fall in love. But my
grandmother's father was a poet; his songs are still sung in Khajuraho and
nearby villages. He insisted that unless she agreed, he was not going to
marry her to anybody. As chance would have it, she fell in love with my
I asked her, "That is even stranger: you refused the king of Chhatarpur,
and yet you fell in love with this poor man. For what? He was certainly not
a very handsome man, nor extraordinary in any other way; why did you fall
in love with him?"
She said, "You are asking the wrong question. Falling has no 'why' to it. I
just saw him, and that was it. I saw his eyes, and a trust arose in me that
has never wavered."
I had also asked my grandfather, "Nani says she fell in love with you.
That's okay on her part, but why did you allow the marriage to happen?"
He said, "I am not a poet or a thinker, but I can recognize beauty when I
I never saw a more beautiful woman than my Nani. I myself was in love with
her, and loved her throughout her whole life....
I am fortunate in many ways, but I was most fortunate in having my maternal
grandparents...and those early golden years. [glimps06]
I was born in a family which belongs to a very small section of
Jainism...it follows a madman who must have been just a little bit less mad
than me. I cannot say more mad than me.
I am going to talk about his two books, which are not translated in
English, not even into Hindi, because they are untranslatable. I don't
think that he is ever going to have any international audience. Impossible.
He believes in no language, no grammar, nothing whatsoever. He speaks
exactly like a madman. His book is Shunya Svabhava--"The Nature of Emptiness."
It is just a few pages, but of tremendous significance. Each sentence
contains scriptures, but very difficult to understand. You will naturally
ask how could I understand him. In the first place just as Martin Buber was
born into a Hassid family, I was born into this madman's tradition. His
name is Taran Taran. It is not his real name, but nobody knows his real
name. Taran Taran simply means "The Savior." That has become his name.
I have breathed him from my very childhood, listened to his songs, wondered
what he meant. But a child never cares about the meaning...the song was
beautiful, the rhythm was beautiful, the dance was beautiful, and it is enough.
One needs to understand such people only if one is grown up, otherwise, if
from their very childhood they are surrounded by the milieu they will not
need to understand and yet deep down in their guts they will understand.
I understand Taran Taran--not intellectually, but existentially. Moreover I
also know what he is talking about. Even if I had not been born into a
family of his followers I would have understood him. I have understood so
many different traditions and it is not that I have been born into all of
them...I have understood so many madmen that anybody could go mad just by
making an effort to understand them! But just look at me, they have not
affected me at all.... They have remained somewhere below me. I have
remained transcendental to them all.
Still, I would have understood Taran Taran. I may not have come into
contact with him, that is possible, because his followers are very few,
just a few thousand, and found only in the middle parts of India. And they
are so afraid because of their being in such a minority, that they don't
call themselves the followers of Taran Taran, they call themselves Jainas.
Secretly they believe, not in Mahavira [pendiri agama Jaina, hidup sezaman
dengan Buddha Gautama.-hh] as the rest of the Jainas believe, but in Taran
Taran, the founder of their sect.
Jainism itself is a very small religion; only three million people believe
in it. There are two main sects: the Digambaras, and the Svetambaras. The
Digambaras believe that Mahavira lived naked, and was naked. The word
digambara means "sky clad"; metaphorically it means "the naked." This is
the oldest sect.
The word svetambara means the "white clad," and the followers of this sect
believe that although Mahavira was naked he was covered by the gods in an
invisible white cloth...this is a compromise just to satisfy the Hindus.
The followers of Taran Taran belong to the Digambara sect, and they are the
most revolutionary of the Jainas. They don't even worship the statues of
Mahavira; their temples are empty, signifying the inner emptiness.
It would have been almost impossible to have come to know Taran if not for
the chance that I was born into a family who believed in him. But I thank
God, it was worth the trouble to be born into that family. All the troubles
can be forgiven just for this one thing, that they acquainted me with a
His book Shunya Svabhava says only one thing again and again, just like a
madman. You know me, you can understand. I have been saying the same thing
again and again for twenty-five years...I've said again and again "Awake!"
That's what he does in Shunya Svabhava. [books14]
Nana used to go to the temple every morning, yet he never said, "Come with
me." He never indoctrinated me. That is what is great...not to
indoctrinate. It is so human to force a helpless child to follow your
beliefs. But he remained untempted--yes, I call it the greatest temptation.
The moment you see someone dependent on you in any way, you start
indoctrinating. He never even said to me, "You are a Jaina."
I remember perfectly--it was the time that the census was being taken. The
officer had come to our house. He made many inquiries about many things.
They asked about my grandfather's religion; he said, "Jainism." They then
asked about my grandmother's religion. My Nana said, "You can ask her
yourself. Religion is a private affair. I myself have never asked her."
What a man!
My grandmother answered, "I do not believe in any religion whatsoever. All
religions look childish to me." The officer was shocked. Even I was taken
aback. She does not believe in any religion at all! In India to find a
woman who does not believe in any religion at all is impossible. But she
was born in Khajuraho, perhaps into a family of Tantrikas [penganut
Tantra.-hh], who have never believed in any religion. They have practiced
meditation but they have never believed in any religion.
It sounds very illogical to a Western mind: meditation without religion?
Yes...in fact, if you believe in any religion you cannot meditate. Religion
is an interference in your meditation. Meditation needs no God, no heaven,
no hell, no fear of punishment, and no allurement of pleasure. Meditation
has nothing to do with mind; meditation is beyond it, whereas religion is
only mind, it is within mind.
I know Nani never went to the temple, but she taught me one mantra which I
will reveal for the first time. It is a Jaina mantra, but it has nothing to
do with Jainas as such. It is purely accidental that it is related to
The mantra is so beautiful. It is going to be difficult to translate it,
but I will do my best...or my worst. First listen to the mantra in its
Namo arihantanam namo namo
Namo siddhanam namo namo
Namo uvajjhayanam namo namo
Namo loye savva sahunam namo namo
Aeso panch nammukaro
Mangalam cha savvesam padhamam havai mangalam
Arihante saranam pavajjhami
Siddhe saranam pavajjhami
Sahu saranam pavajjhami
Namo arihantanam namo namo
Namo siddhanam namo namo
Namo uvajjhayanam namo namo
Om, shantih, shantih, shantih....
Now my effort at translation: "I go to the feet of, I bow down to, the
arihantas...." Arihanta is the name in Jainism, as arhat is in Buddhism,
for one who has achieved the ultimate but cares nothing about anybody else.
He has come home and turned his back on the world. He does not create a
religion, he does not even preach, he does not even declare. Of course he
has to be remembered first. The first remembrance is for all those who have
known and remained silent. The first respect is not for words, but for
silence. Not for serving others, but for the sheer achievement of one's
self. It does not matter whether one serves others or not; that is
secondary, not primary. The primary is that one has achieved one's self,
and it is so difficult in this world to know one's self....
The Jainas call the person arihanta who has attained to himself and is so
drowned, so drunk in the beautitude of his realization that he has
forgotten the whole world. The word 'arihanta' literally means "one who has
killed the enemy"--and the enemy is the ego. The first part of the mantra
means, "I touch the feet of the one who has attained himself."
The second part is: Namo siddhanam namo namo. This mantra is in Prakrit,
not Sanskrit. Prakrit is the language of the Jainas; it is more ancient
than Sanskrit. The very word 'sanskrit' means refined. You can understand
by the word 'refined' there must have been something before it, otherwise
what are you going to refine? 'Prakrit' means unrefined, natural, raw, and
the Jainas are correct when they say their language is the most ancient in
the world. Their religion too is the most ancient.
The Hindu scripture Rigveda mentions the first master of the Jainas,
Adinatha. That certainly means it is far more ancient than Rigveda. Rigveda
is the oldest book in the world, and it talks about the Jaina tirthankara,
Adinatha, with such respect that one thing is certain, that he could not
have been a contemporary of the people writing Rigveda....
The mantra is in Prakrit, raw and unrefined. The second line is: Namo
siddhanam namo namo--"I touch the feet of the one who has become his
being." So, what is the difference between the first and the second?
The arihanta never looks back, never bothers about any kind of service,
Christian or otherwise. The siddha, once in a while holds out his hand to
drowning humanity, but only once in a while, not always. It is not a
necessity, it is not compulsory, it is his choice; he may or he may not.
Hence the third: Namo uvajjhayanam namo namo..."I touch the feet of the
masters, the uvajjhaya." They have achieved the same, but they face the
world, they serve the world. They are in the world and not of it...but
still in it.
The fourth: Namo loye savva sahunam namo namo..."I touch the feet of the
teachers." You know the subtle difference between a master and a teacher.
The master has known, and imparts what he has known. The teacher has
received from one who has known, and delivers it intact to the world, but
he himself has not known.
The composers of this mantra are really beautiful; they even touch the feet
of those who have not known themselves, but at least are carrying the
message of the masters to the masses.
Number five is one of the most significant sentences I have ever come
across in my whole life. It is strange that it was given to me by my
grandmother when I was a small child. When I explain it to you, you too
will see the beauty of it. Only she was capable of giving it to me. I don't
know anybody else who had the guts to really proclaim it, although all
Jainas repeat it in their temples. But to repeat is one thing; to impart it
to one you love is totally another.
"I touch the feet of all those who have known themselves"...without any
distinction, whether they are Hindus, Jainas, Buddhists, Christians,
Mohammedans. The mantra says, "I touch the feet of all those who have known
themselves." This is the only mantra, as far as I know, which is absolutely
The other four parts are not different from the fifth, they are all
contained in it, but it has a vastness which those others do not have. The
fifth line must be written on all the temples, all the churches,
irrespective of to whom they belong, because it says, "I touch the feet of
all those who have known it." It does not say "who have known God." Even
the "it" can be dropped: I am only putting "it" in the translation. The
original simply means "touching the feet of those who have known"--no "it."
I am putting "it" in just to fulfill the demands of your language;
otherwise someone is bound to ask, "Known? Known what? What is the object
of knowledge?" There is no object of knowledge; there is nothing to know,
only the knower.
This mantra was the only religious thing, if you can call it religious,
given to me by my grandmother, and that too, not by my grandfather but by
my grandmother...because one night I asked her. One night she said, "You
look awake. Can't you sleep? Are you planning tomorrow's mischief?"
I said, "No, but somehow a question is arising in me. Everybody has a
religion, and when people ask me, 'To what religion do you belong?' I shrug
my shoulders. Now, certainly shrugging your shoulders is not a religion, so
I want to ask you, what should I say?"
She said, "I myself don't belong to any religion, but I love this mantra,
and this is all I can give you--not because it is traditionally Jaina, but
only because I have known its beauty. I have repeated it millions of times
and always I have found tremendous peace...just the feeling of touching the
feet of all those who have known. I can give you this mantra; more than
that is not possible for me."
Now I can say that woman was really great, because as far as religion is
concerned, everybody is lying: Christians, Jews, Jainas,
Mohammedans--everybody is lying. They all talk of God, heaven and hell,
angels and all kinds of nonsense, without knowing anything at all. She was
great, not because she knew but because she was unable to lie to a child.
Nobody should lie--to a child at least it is unforgivable.
Children have been exploited for centuries just because they are willing to
trust. You can lie to them very easily and they will trust you. If you are
a father, a mother, they will think you are bound to be true. That's how
the whole of humanity lives in corruption, in a thick mud, very slippery, a
thick mud of lies told to children for centuries.
If we can do just one thing, a simple thing: not lie to children, and to
confess to them our ignorance, then we will be religious, and we will put
them on the path of religion. Children are only innocence; leave them not
your so-called knowledge. But you yourself must first be innocent, unlying,
true, even if it shatters your ego--and it will shatter. It is bound to
My grandfather never told me to go to the temple, to follow him. I used to
follow him many times, but he would say, "Go away. If you want to go to the
temple, go alone. Don't follow me."
He was not a hard man, but on this point he was absolutely hard. I asked
him again and again, "Can you give me something of your experience?" And he
would always avoid it....
"Namo arihantanam namo namo
Namo siddhanam namo namo
Namo uvajjhayanam namo namo
Namo loye savva sahunam namo namo
Om, shantih, shantih, shantih...."
What does it mean? It means "Om"--the ultimate sound of soundlessness. And
he disappeared like a dewdrop in the first rays of the sun.
There is only peace, peace, peace.... I am entering into it now....
Namo arihantanam namo namo....
I go to the feet of those who have known.
I go to the feet of those who have achieved.
I go to the feet of all who are masters.
I go to the feet of all the teachers.
I go to the feet of all who have ever known,
Om, shantih, shantih, shantih. [glimps05]
My grandfather wanted the greatest astrologers in India to make my birth
chart. Although he was not very rich--in fact not even rich, what to say of
very rich, but in that village he was the richest person--he was ready to
pay any price for the birth chart. He made the long journey to Varanasi and
saw the famous men. Looking at the notes and dates my grandfather had
brought, the greatest astrologer of them all said, "I am sorry, I can only
make this birth chart after seven years. If the child survives then I will
make his chart without any charge, but I don't think he will survive. If he
does it will be a miracle, because then there is a possibility for him to
become a buddha."
My grandfather came home weeping. I had never seen tears in his eyes. I
asked, "What is the matter?"
He said, "I have to wait until you are seven. Who knows whether I will
survive those years or not? Who knows whether the astrologer himself will
survive, because he is so old. And I am a little concerned about you."
I said, "What's the concern?"
He said, "The concern is not that you may die, my concern is that you may
become a buddha."
I laughed, and amongst his tears he also started laughing. Then he himself
said, "It is strange that I was worried. Yes, what is wrong in being a
When I was seven an astrologer came to my grandfather's village searching
for me. When a beautiful horse stopped in front of our house, we all rushed
out. The horse looked so royal, and the rider was none other than one of
the famous astrologers.... He said to me, "So you are still alive? I have
made your birth chart. I was worried, because people like you don't survive
My grandfather sold all the ornaments in the house just to give a feast for
all the neighboring villages, to celebrate that I was going to become a
buddha, and yet I don't think he even understood the meaning of the word
He was a Jaina and may not have even heard it before. But he was happy,
immensely happy...dancing, because I was to become a buddha. At that moment
I could not believe that he could be so happy just because of this word
'buddha'. When everyone had departed I asked him, "What is the meaning of
He said, "I don't know, it just sounds good. Moreover I am a Jaina. We will
find out from some Buddhist."
In that small village there were no Buddhists, but he said, "Someday, when
a passing Buddhist bhikkhu comes by, we will know the meaning."
But he was so happy just because the astrologer had said that I was to
become a buddha. He then said to me, "I guess 'buddha' must mean someone
who is very intelligent." In Hindi buddhi means intelligence, so he thought
'buddha' meant the intelligent one.
He came very close, he almost guessed right. Alas that he is not alive,
otherwise he would have seen what being a buddha means--not the dictionary
meaning, but an encounter with a living, awakened one. And I can see him
dancing, seeing that his grandson has become a buddha. That would have been
enough to make him enlightened! But he died. His death was one of my most
significant experiences. Of that, later on. [glimps02]
And to me he was not just a maternal grandfather.
It is very difficult for me to define what he was to me. He used to call me
Rajah--rajah means the king--and for those seven years he managed to have
me live like a king. On my birthday he used to bring an elephant from a
nearby town.... Elephants in India, in those days, were kept either by
kings--because it is very costly, the maintenance, the food and the service
that the elephant requires--or by saints.
Two types of people used to have them. The saints could have elephants
because they had so many followers. Just as the followers looked after the
saint, they looked after the elephant. Nearby there was a saint who had an
elephant, so for my birthday my maternal grandfather used to bring the
elephant. He would put me on the elephant with two bags, one on either
side, full of silver coins....
In my childhood, in India, notes had not appeared; pure silver was still
used for the rupee. My grandfather would fill two bags, big bags, hanging
on either side, with silver coins, and I would go around the village
throwing the silver coins. That's how he used to celebrate my birthday.
Once I started, he would come in his bullock cart behind me with more
rupees, and he would go on telling me, "Don't be miserly--I am keeping
enough. You cannot throw more than I have. Go on throwing!"
Naturally, the whole village followed the elephant. It was not a big
village either, not more than two or three hundred people in the whole
village, so I would go around the village, the only street in the village.
He managed in every possible way to give me the idea that I belonged to
some royal family. [person27]
In my Nani's village I was continuously either in the lake or in the river.
The river was a little too far away, perhaps two miles, so I had to choose
the lake more often. But once in a while I used to go to the river, because
the quality of a river and a lake are totally different. A lake, in a
certain way, is dead, closed, not flowing, not going anywhere at all,
static. That's the meaning of death: it is not dynamic.
The river is always on the go, rushing to some unknown goal, perhaps not
knowing at all what that goal is, but it reaches, knowing or unknowing--it
reaches the goal. The lake never moves. It remains where it is, dormant,
simply dying, every day dying; there is no resurrection. But the river,
howsoever small, is as big as the ocean, because sooner or later it is
going to become the ocean.
I have always loved the feel of the flow: just going, that flux, that
continuous movement...aliveness. So, even though the river was two miles
away, I used once in a while to go just to have the taste. [glimps27]
I used to swim in the lake. Naturally my grandfather was afraid. He put a
strange man to guard over me, in a boat. In that primitive village you
cannot conceive what a "boat" meant. It is called a dongi. It is nothing
but the hollowed-out trunk of a tree. It is not an ordinary boat. It is
round, and that is the danger: unless you are an expert you cannot row it.
It can roll at any moment. Just a little imbalance and you are gone
forever. It is very dangerous.
I learned balance through rowing a dongi. Nothing could be more helpful. I
learned the "middle way" because you have to be exactly in the middle: this
way, and you are gone; that way, and you are gone. You cannot even breathe,
and you have to remain absolutely silent; only then can you row the dongi.
During those first years when I lived with my grandfather, I was absolutely
protected from punishment. He never said "Do this," or "Don't do that." On
the contrary he put his most obedient servant, Bhoora, at my service, to
protect me. Bhoora used to carry a very primitive gun with him. He used to
follow me at a distance, but that was enough to frighten the villagers.
That was enough to allow me to do whatsoever I wanted.
Anything one could imagine...like riding on a buffalo backwards with Bhoora
In my village particularly, and all over India, nobody rides on a buffalo.
The Chinese are strange people, and this person Lao Tzu was the strangest
of all. But God knows, and only God knows, how I discovered the idea--even
I don't know--to sit on a buffalo in the marketplace, backwards. I assume
it was because I always liked anything absurd....
Those early years--if they could be given to me again, I would be ready to
be born again. But you know, and I know, nothing can be repeated. That's
why I am saying that I would be ready to be born again; otherwise who wants
to, even though those days were full of beauty....
I was so mischievous. I cannot live without it; it is my nourishment. I can
understand the old man, my grandfather, and the trouble my mischief caused
him. The whole day he would sit on his gaddi--as the seat of a rich man is
called in India--listening less to his customers, and more to the
complainers. But he used to say to them, "I am ready to pay for any damage
he has done, but remember, I am not going to punish him."
Perhaps his very patience with me, a mischievous child...even I could not
tolerate it. If a child like that was given to me and for years...my God!
Even for minutes and I would throw the child out of the door forever.
Perhaps those years worked a miracle for my grandfather; that immense
patience paid. He became more and more silent. I saw it growing every day.
Once in a while I would say, "Nana, you can punish me. You need not be so
tolerant." And, can you believe it, he would cry! Tears would come to his
eyes, and he would say, "Punish you? I cannot do that. I can punish myself
but not you."
Never, for a single moment, have I ever seen the shadow of anger towards me
in his eyes--and believe me, I did everything that one thousand children
could do. In the morning, even before breakfast I was into my mischief,
until late at night. Sometimes I would come home so late--three o'clock in
the morning. But what a man he was! He never said, "You are too late. This
is not the time for a child to come home." No, not even once. In fact, in
front of me he would avoid looking at the clock on the wall. [glimps05]
[NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis; pisahkan mana yang
emas dan mana yang loyang. Cobalah selami apa yang tersirat.-hh]
Osho argues with Nana's guru
Jainism is the most ascetic religion in the world, or in other words the
most masochistic and sadistic. Jaina monks torture themselves so much that
one wonders if they are insane. They are not. They are businessmen, and the
followers of the Jaina monks are all businessmen. It is strange, the whole
Jaina community consists only of businessmen--but not really strange
because the religion itself is basically motivated for profit in the other
world. The Jaina tortures himself in order to gain something in the other
world which he knows he cannot attain in this.
I must have been about four or five years old when I saw the first naked
Jaina monk being invited into my grandmother's house. I could not resist
laughing. My grandfather told me, "Keep quiet! I know you are a nuisance. I
can forgive you when you are a pain in the neck to the neighbors, but I
cannot forgive you if you try to be mischievous with my guru. He is my
master; he initiated me into the inner secrets of religion."
I said, "I am not concerned about the inner secrets, I am concerned about
the outer secrets that he is showing so clearly. Why is he naked? Can't he
at least wear short pants?"
Even my grandfather laughed. He said, "You don't understand."
I said, "Okay, I will ask him myself." I then asked my grandmother, "Can I
ask a few questions to this utterly insane man who comes naked in front of
ladies and gentlemen?"
My grandmother laughed and said, "Go ahead, and don't take any notice of
what your grandfather says. I allow you. If he says anything just indicate
towards me and I will put him right."
She was really a beautiful woman, courageous, ready to give freedom without
any limits. She did not even ask me what I was going to ask. She simply
said, "Go ahead...."
All the villagers had assembled for the darshan [memandang, menghadap orang
suci, dalam Hinduisme suatu perbuatan yang dianggap memberikan pahala
besar.-hh] of the Jaina monk. In the middle of the so-called sermon I stood
up. That was forty or so years ago, and since then I have been fighting
these idiots continuously. That day a war began which is only going to end
when I am no more. Perhaps it may not end even then; my people may continue it.
I asked simple questions that he could not answer. I was puzzled. My
grandfather was ashamed. My grandmother patted me on the back and said,
"Great! You did it! I knew you were able to."
What had I asked?--just simple questions. I had asked, "Why don't you want
to be born again?" [(1) ihat komentar hudoyo di bawah.] That's a very
simple question in Jainism, because Jainism is nothing but an effort not to
be born again. It is the whole science of preventing rebirth. So I asked
him the basic question, "Don't you ever want to be born again?"
He said, "No, never."
Then I asked, "Why don't you commit suicide? Why are you still breathing?
Why eat? Why drink water? Just disappear, commit suicide. Why make so much
fuss over a simple thing?" He was not more than forty years of age.... I
said to him, "If you continue in this way, you may have to continue for
another forty years or even more." It is a scientific fact that people who
eat less live longer.... (2 - lihat di bawah)
So I said to the monk--I did not know these facts then--"If you don't want
to be born again, why are you living? Just to die? Then why not commit
suicide?" I don't think anybody had ever asked him such a question. In
polite society nobody ever asks a real question, and the question of
suicide is the most real of all.
Marcel [Gabriel Marcel, seorang filsuf eksistensialis dari Barat.--hh]
says: Suicide is the only real philosophical question. I had no idea of
Marcel then. Perhaps at that time there was no Marcel, and his book had not
been written yet. But this is what I said to the Jaina monk: "If you don't
want to be born again, which you say is your desire, then why do you live?
For what? Commit suicide! I can show you a way. Although I don't know much
about the ways of the world, as far as suicide is concerned I can give you
some advice. You can jump off the hill at the side of the village, or you
can jump into the river."
The river was three miles away from the village, and so deep and so vast
that to swim across it was such a joy for me. Many times while swimming
across the river I would think it was the end and I would not be able to
reach the other shore. It was so wide, particularly in the rainy season,
miles wide.(3) It looked almost like an ocean. In the rainy season one
could not even see the other shore. When it was in full flood, that was
when I would jump in, either to die or to reach the other shore. The
greater probability was that I would never reach the other shore.
I told the Jaina monk, "In the rainy season you can jump into the river
with me. We can keep company for a little while, then you can die, and I
will reach the other shore. I can swim well enough."
He looked at me so fiercely, so full of anger, that I had to tell him,
"Remember, you will have to be born again because you are still full of
anger. This is not the way to get rid of the world of worries. Why are you
looking at me so angrily? Answer my question in a peaceful and silent way.
Answer joyously! If you cannot answer, simply say, 'I don't know.' But
don't be angry."
The man said, "Suicide is a sin. I cannot commit suicide. But I want never
to be born again. I will achieve that state by slowly renouncing everything
that I possess."
I said, "Please show me something that you possess because, as far as I can
see you are naked and you don't possess anything. What possessions do you
My grandfather tried to stop me. I pointed towards my grandmother and then
said to him, "Remember, I asked permission of Nani, and now nobody can
prevent me, not even you. (5) I spoke to her about you because I was
worried that if I interrupted your guru and his rubbishy, so-called sermon,
you would be angry with me. She said to 'Just point towards me, that's all.
Don't be worried: just a look from me and he will become silent.'" And
strange...it was true! He became silent, even without a look from my Nani.
Later on my Nani and I both laughed. I said to her, "He did not even look
She said, "He could not, because he must have been afraid that I would say
'Shut up! Don't interfere with the child.' So he avoided me. The only way
to avoid me was to not interfere with you."
In fact he closed his eyes as if he was meditating. I said to him, "Nana,
great! You are angry, boiling, there is fire within you, yet you sit with
closed eyes as if you are meditating. Your guru is angry because my
questions are annoying him. You are angry because your guru is not capable
of answering. But I say, this man who is sermonizing here is just an
imbecile." And I was not more than four or five years old. (6)
From that time on that has remained my language. I immediately recognize
the idiot wherever he is, whoever he is. Nobody can escape my x-ray eyes. I
can immediately see any retardedness, or anything else whatsoever. [glimps07]
I have been talking about an incident that is absolutely important in order
to understand my life and its workings...and it is still alive for me.
By the way, I was saying I can still remember, but the word 'remember' is
not right. I can still see the whole incident happening. Of course I was
just a young child, but that does not mean that what I said is not to be
taken seriously. In fact it is the only serious thing that I have ever
talked about: suicide.
To a Westerner it may seem a little rude to ask a monk--who is almost like
a pope to the Jainas--such a question: "Why don't you commit suicide?" But
be kind to me. Let me explain before you conclude, or stop listening to me.
Jainism is the only religion in the world which respects suicide. Now it is
your turn to be surprised. Of course they do not call it suicide; they give
it a beautiful metaphysical name, santhara. I am against it, particularly
the way it is done. It is very violent and cruel. It is strange that a
religion which believes in nonviolence should preach santhara, suicide. You
can call it metaphysical suicide, but after all, suicide is suicide; the
name does not matter. What matters is that the man is no longer alive.
Why am I against it? I am not against the right of man to commit suicide.
No, it should be one of the basic human rights. If I don't want to live,
who has the right to force me to live? If I myself want to disappear, then
all that others can do is to make it as comfortable as possible. Note it:
one day I would like to disappear. I cannot live forever....
..I am not against the Jaina attitude to suicide, but the method...their
method is not to eat anything. It takes almost ninety days for the poor man
to die. It is torture. You cannot improve on it....
Jaina monks and their masochistic practices. They are superb! They never
cut their hair, they pull it out with their hands. Look what a great idea!
Every year the Jaina monk pulls out his hair, beard and mustache, and all
hair on the body, just with his bare hands! They are against any
technology--and they call it logic, going to the very logical end of a
thing. If you use a razor, that is technology; did you know that? Have you
ever considered a razor a technological thing? Even so-called ecologists go
on shaving their beards without knowing that they are committing a crime
Jaina monks pull out their hair--and not privately, because they do not
have any privacy. Part of their masochism is not to have any privacy, to be
utterly public. They pull their hair out while standing naked in the
marketplace. The crowds, of course, cheer and applaud. And Jainas, although
they feel great sympathy--you can even see tears in their
eyes--unconsciously they also enjoy it, and without needing a ticket. I
abhor it. I am averse to all such practices.
The idea of committing santhara, suicide, by not eating or drinking, is
nothing but a very long process of self-torture. I cannot support it. But I
am absolutely in support of the idea of the freedom to die. I consider it a
birthright, and sooner or later every constitution in the world will
contain it, will have to have it as the most basic birthright--the right to
die. It is not a crime.
But to torture anybody, including yourself, is a crime. With this you will
be able to understand that I was not being rude, I was asking a very
relevant question. On that day I began a lifelong struggle against all
kinds of stupidities, nonsense, superstitions--in short, religious
bullshit. Bullshit is such a beautiful word. It says so much, in short.
That day I began my life as a rebel, and I will continue to be a rebel to
my very last breath--or even after it, who knows.... (7)
That day was significant, historically significant. I have always
remembered that day along with the day when Jesus argued with the rabbis in
the temple. He was a little older than I was, perhaps eight or nine years
older. The way he argued determined the whole course of his life. (8)
I don't remember the name of the Jaina monk; perhaps his name was Shanti
Sagar, meaning "ocean of bliss." He certainly was not that. That is why I
have forgotten even his name. He was just a dirty puddle, not an ocean of
bliss or peace or silence. And he was certainly not a man of silence,
because he became very angry.
Shanti can mean many things. It may mean peace, it may mean silence; those
are the two basic meanings. Both were missing in him. He was neither
peaceful nor silent, not at all. Nor could you say that he was without any
turmoil in him because he became so angry that he shouted at me to sit down.
I said, "Nobody can tell me to sit down in my own house. I can tell you to
get out, but you cannot tell me to sit down. But I will not tell you to get
out because I have a few more questions. Please don't be angry. Remember
your name, Shanti Sagar--ocean of peace and silence. You could at least be
a little pool. And don't be disturbed by a little child."
Without bothering whether he was silent or not, I asked my grandmother, who
was by now all laughter, "What do you say, Nani? Should I ask him more
questions, or tell him to get out of our house?"
I did not ask my grandfather of course, because this man was his guru. My
Nani said, "You can ask whatsoever you want to, and if he cannot answer,
the door is open, he can get out."
That was the woman I loved. That was the woman who made me a rebel. Even my
grandfather was shocked that she supported me in such a way. That so-called
Shanti Sagar immediately became silent the moment he saw that my
grandmother supported me. Not only her, the villagers were immediately on
my side. The poor Jaina monk was left absolutely alone.
I asked him a few more questions. I asked, "You have said, 'Don't believe
anything unless you have experienced it yourself.' I see the truth in that,
hence this question...."
Jainas believe there are seven hells. Up to the sixth there is a
possibility of coming back, but the seventh is eternal. Perhaps the seventh
is the Christian hell, because there too, once you are in it you are in it
forever. I continued, "You referred to seven hells, so the question arises,
have you visited the seventh? If you have, then you could not be here. If
you have not, on what authority do you say that it exists? You should say
that there are only six hells, not seven. Now please be correct: say that
there are only six hells, or if you want to insist on seven, then prove to
me that at least one man, Shanti Sagar, has come back from the seventh hell."
He was dumbfounded. He could not believe that a child could ask such a
question. (9) Today, I too cannot believe it! How could I ask such a
question? The only answer I can give is that I was uneducated, and utterly
without any knowledge. Knowledge makes you very cunning. I was not cunning.
I simply asked the question which any child could have asked if he were not
educated. Education is the greatest crime man has committed against poor
children. Perhaps the last liberation in the world will be the liberation
of children. (10)
(1) Osho: "Why don't you want to be born again?" -- Pertanyaan ini salah,
menggambarkan pemahaman yang simplistik terhadap ajaran Hinduisme,
Buddhisme dan Jainisme. Ketiga agama itu mengajarkan orang untuk memahami
eksistensi ini, yang bersifat tidak kekal, tidak memuaskan, dan tidak
mempunyai esensi abadi yang dapat diselami oleh pikiran. Dengan
tertembusnya pemahaman itu, berakhirlah rangkaian kehidupan orang tersebut
di dalam eksistensi ini (moksha, nirvana). Namun, selama masih ada
keinginan, sehalus apa pun, bahkan keinginan untuk moksha itu sendiri, itu
berarti sang 'aku' masih tetap ada; eksistensi ini belum dipahami secara
tuntas. -- Jadi kesalahan pemahaman pada pertanyaan di atas terletak pada
kata 'want'. 'Want' itulah yang membuat orang terus-menerus lahir dan mati.
Sayang sekali sang pertapa telanjang tidak bisa menjawabnya (kalau cerita
itu betul); mungkin ia cuma seorang penganut yang belum menembus hakekat
ajaran agamanya sendiri, dan dengan mudahnya Osho, yang memang cerdas,
(2) Osho: "If you continue in this way, you may have to continue for
another forty years or even more." It is a scientific fact that people who
eat less live longer.... Bisakah anak berumur 4-5 tahun--kakeknya masih
hidup--berpikir seperti ini?
(3) [The river] was so wide, particularly in the rainy season, miles wide.
-- Berlebihan; Madhya Pradesh terletak di tengah daratan India, di sana
tidak ada sungai yang lebarnya bermil-mil.
(4) Osho: "Please show me something that you possess because, as far as I
can see you are naked and you don't possess anything. What possessions do
you have?" Pertanyaan ini menunjukkan pemahaman yang sempit, disadari atau
tidak, terhadap arti 'possession' [milik]. -- Mungkin ini disengaja,
mengingat pendengarnya adalah anak-anak muda dari Barat yang naif.
(5) Osho kepada kakeknya: "nobody can prevent me, not even you." --
Bagaimana harus dikatakan, seorang cucu yang berani berkata seperti ini
kepada kakek yang mencintainya?
(6) Osho kepada kakeknya: "Nana, great! You are angry, boiling, there is
fire within you, yet you sit with closed eyes as if you are meditating.
Your guru is angry because my questions are annoying him. You are angry
because your guru is not capable of answering. But I say, this man who is
sermonizing here is just an imbecile." And I was not more than four or five
years old. -- Luar biasa; betulkah?
(7) Osho: "That day I began my life as a rebel, and I will continue to be a
rebel to my very last breath--or even after it, who knows...." --Apakah
Osho mendapat kepuasan dari pemberontakannya?
(8) Identifikasi dengan legenda Yesus.
(9) Osho: "You referred to seven hells, so the question arises, have you
visited the seventh? If you have, then you could not be here. If you have
not, on what authority do you say that it exists? You should say that there
are only six hells, not seven. Now please be correct: say that there are
only six hells, or if you want to insist on seven, then prove to me that at
least one man, Shanti Sagar, has come back from the seventh hell." -- Kalau
ini ditanyakan oleh anak berusia 10 - 13 tahun, masih masuk akal. Tapi
kalau anak berusia 4-5 tahun? Apakah yang mau disiratkan oleh Osho di sini?
(10) Osho: "Education is the greatest crime man has committed against poor
children..." Lagi-lagi hiperbolisme. Apa sebetulnya motivasi di balik
seorang guru spiritual yang hiperbolik? Perhatian? Ketenaran?
[NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis. Cobalah selami apa
The family servant, Bhoora
The man who was put on guard to save me, I called him strange. Why? Because
his name was Bhoora, and it means "white man." He was the only white man in
our village. He was not a European; it was just by chance that he did not
look like an Indian. He looked more like a European but he was not. His
mother most probably had worked in a British Army camp and had become
pregnant there. That's why nobody knew his name, everybody called him
Bhoora. Bhoora means "the white one." It is not a name but it became his
name. He was a very impressive-looking man. He came to work for my
grandfather from early childhood, and even though he was a servant he was
treated like one of the family.
I also called him strange because although I have come to know many people
in the world, one rarely comes across such a man as Bhoora. He was a man
you could trust. You could say anything to him and he would keep the secret
forever. This fact became known to my family only when my grandfather died....
What a man! But such men used to exist on earth. They are disappearing by
and by, and instead of such people you find all kinds of cunning people
taking their place. These people are the very salt of the earth. I call
Bhoora a strange man because in a cunning world, to be simple is strange.
It is to be a stranger, not of this world. [glimps03]
Bhoora may have been just an obedient servant to my grandfather, but to me
he was a friend. Most of the time we were together--in the fields, in the
forest, on the lake, everywhere. Bhoora followed me like a shadow, not
interfering, always ready to help, and with such a great heart...so poor
and yet so rich, together.
He never invited me to his house. Once I asked him, "Bhoora, why do you
never invite me to your house?"
He said, "I am so poor that although I want to invite you, my poverty
prevents me. I don't want you to see that ugly house in all its dirtiness.
In this life I cannot see a time when I will be able to invite you. I
really have dropped the very idea."
He was very poor. In that village there were two parts: one for the higher
castes, and the other for the poorer ones, on the other side of the lake.
That's where Bhoora lived. Although I tried many times to reach his house I
could not manage it because he was always following me like a shadow. He
would prevent me before I even stepped in that direction.
Even my horse used to listen to him. When it came to going towards his
house, Bhoora would say, "No! Don't go." Of course he had brought the horse
up from its very childhood; they understood each other, and the horse would
stop. There would be no way to get the horse to move either towards
Bhoora's house, or even towards the poorer part of the village. I had only
seen it from the other side, the richer, where the brahmins and the Jainas
lived, and all those who are by birth, pure. Bhoora was a sudra. The word
'sudra' means "impure by birth," and there is no way for a sudra to purify
This is the work of Manu*. That's why I condemn him and hate him. I
denounce him, and want the world to know of this man, Manu, because unless
we know of such people we will never be able to be free of them. They will
continue to influence us in some form or another. Either it is race--even
in America, if you are a negro, you are a sudra, a "nigger," untouchable.
Whether you are a negro or a white man, both need to be acquainted with the
insane philosophy of Manu. It is Manu who has influenced the two world wars
in a very subtle way. And perhaps he will be the cause of the third, and
last...a really influential man!...
I don't think any man has influenced humanity more than Manu. Even today,
whether you know his name or not, he influences you. If you think yourself
superior just because you are white or black, or just because you are a man
or a woman, somehow Manu is pulling your strings. Manu has to be absolutely
[*Note: Manu gave the anicent caste system its scriptural 'authority' in
his books Manu Samhita and Manu Smriti. Nietzsche and Hitler were
influenced by Manu]
I was looking at some pictures of the marriage procession of Princess
Diana, and strangely, the only thing that impressed me in the whole
nonsense was the beautiful horses, their joyous dance. Looking at those
horses I remembered my own horse. I have not told anyone about it...but now
that I am not keeping anything secret, even this can be told.
I not only owned one horse; in fact I had four horses. One was my own--and
you know how fussy I am...even today nobody else can ride in the Rolls
Royces. It is just fussiness. I was the same at that time too. Nobody, not
even my grandfather, was allowed to ride my horse. Of course, I was allowed
to ride everyone else's horse. Both my grandfather and my grandmother had
one. It was strange in an Indian village for a woman to ride a horse--but
she was a strange woman, what to do! The fourth horse was for Bhoora, the
servant who always followed me with his gun, at a distance of course.
Destiny is strange. I have never harmed anyone in my life, not even in my
dreams. I am absolutely vegetarian. But as destiny would have it, from my
very childhood I have been followed by a guard. I don't know why, but since
Bhoora I have never been without a guard. Even today my guards are always
either ahead or behind, but always there. Bhoora started the whole game.
I already told you that he looked like a European, that's why he was called
Bhoora. It was not his real name. Bhoora simply means "the white one." Even
I don't know his real name at all. He looked European, very European, and
it looked really strange, especially in that village where I don't think
any European had ever entered. And still there are guards....
Even when I was a child, I could see the point of Bhoora following me at a
distance on his horse, because twice there was an attempt to abduct me. I
don't know why anybody should have been interested in me. Now at least I
can understand. My grandfather, though not very rich by Western standards,
was certainly very rich in that village. Dakaits...it is not an English
word; it comes from the Hindi word daku.... Dakait is a transliteration of
daku; it means thief--not just an ordinary thief, but when a group of
people, armed and organized, plan the act of stealing, then it is dakaitry.
Even when I was young, in India it was a common practice to steal rich
people's children, then to threaten the parents that if they didn't pay,
then the hands of the child would be cut off. If they paid, then they could
save the child's hands. Sometimes the threat would be to blind the child,
or if the parents were really rich then the threat was direct--that the
child would be killed. To save the child, the poor parents were ready to do
Twice they tried to steal me. Two things saved me: one was my horse, who
was a really strong Arabian; the second was Bhoora, the servant. He was
ordered by my grandfather to fire into the air--not at the people trying to
abduct me, because that is against Jainism, but you are allowed to fire
into the air to frighten them. Of course my grandmother had whispered in
Bhoora's ear, "Don't bother about what my husband says. First you can fire
into the air, but if it doesn't work, remember: if you don't shoot the
people I will shoot you." And she was a really good shot. I have seen her
shoot and she was always accurate to the minutest point--she did not miss much.
Nani was very exact as far as details are concerned. She was always to the
point, never around it. There are some people who go around and around and
around: you have to figure out what they really want. That was not her way;
she was exact, mathematically exact. She told Bhoora, "Remember, if you
come home without him just to report he has been stolen, I will shoot you
immediately." I knew, Bhoora knew, my grandfather knew, because although
she said it into Bhoora's ear, it was not a whisper; it was loud enough to
be heard by the whole village. She meant it. She always meant business.
My grandfather looked the other way. I could not resist; I laughed loudly
and said, "Why are you looking the other way? You heard her. If you are a
real Jaina, tell Bhoora not to shoot anybody."
But before my grandfather could say anything, my Nani said, "I have told
Bhoora on your behalf too, so you keep quiet." She was such a woman that
she would even have shot my grandfather. I knew her--I don't mean
literally, but metaphorically, and that is more dangerous than literally.
So he kept quiet.
Twice I was almost abducted. Once my horse brought me home, and once Bhoora
had to fire the gun, of course into the air. Perhaps if there had been a
need he would have fired at the person who was trying to abduct me. But
there was no need, so he saved himself and also my grandfather's religion.
Since then, it is strange...it seems very, very strange to me because I
have been absolutely harmless to everybody, yet I have been in danger many
times. Many attempts have been made on my life. I have always wondered,
since life will end by itself sooner or later, why anybody should be
interested to put an end to it in the middle. What purpose can it serve? If
I could be convinced of that purpose I can stop breathing this very moment....
But when she had said to Bhoora, "If anyone touches my child, you are not
just to fire into the air because we believe in Jainism.... That belief is
good, but only in the temple. In the marketplace we have to behave in the
way of the world, and the world is not Jaina. How can we behave according
to our philosophy?"
I can see her crystal-clear logic. If you are talking to a man who does not
understand English, you cannot speak to him in English. If you speak to him
in his own language then there is more possibility of communication.
Philosophies are languages; let that be clearly noted. Philosophies don't
mean anything at all--they are languages. And the moment I heard my
grandmother say to Bhoora, "When a dakait tries to steal my child, speak
the language he understands, forget all about Jainism"--in that moment I
understood. Although it was not so clear to me as it became later on, it
must have been clear to Bhoora. My grandfather certainly understood the
situation because he closed his eyes and started repeating his mantra:
"Namo arihantanam namo...namo siddhanam namo...."
I laughed, my grandmother giggled; Bhoora, of course, only smiled. But
everybody understood the situation--and she was right, as always....
My grandmother had the same quality of being always right. She said to
Bhoora, "Do you think these dakaits believe in Jainism? And that old
fool..." she indicated my grandfather who was repeating his mantra. She
then said, "That old fool has only told you to fire into the air because we
should not kill. Let him repeat his mantra. Who is telling him to kill? You
are not a Jaina, are you?"
I knew instinctively at that moment that if Bhoora was a Jaina he would
lose his job. I had never bothered before whether Bhoora was a Jaina or
not. For the first time I became concerned about the poor man, and started
praying. I did not know to whom, because Jainas don't believe in any God. I
was never indoctrinated into any belief, but still I started saying within
myself, "God, if you are there, save this poor man's job." Do you see the
point? Even then I said, "If you are there...." I cannot lie even in such a
But mercifully Bhoora was not a Jaina. He said, "I am not a Jaina so I
My Nani said, "Then remember what I have told you, not what that old fool
In fact she always used to use that term for my grandfather: "that old
fool". But that "old fool" is dead. My mother...my grandmother is dead.
Excuse me, again I said "my mother." I really cannot believe she was not my
mother and only my grandmother...
When she spoke to Bhoora I knew she meant it. Bhoora knew she meant it too.
When my grandfather started the mantra, I knew he also understood that she
Twice I was attacked--and to me it was a joy, an adventure. In fact, deep
down I wanted to know what it meant to be abducted. That has always been my
characteristic, you can call it my character. It is a quality I rejoice in.
I used to go on my horse to the woods which belonged to us. My grandfather
promised that all that belonged to him would be willed to me, and he was
true to his word. He never gave a single pai to anybody else.
He had thousands of acres of land. Of course, in those days it didn't have
any value. But value is not my concern--it was so beautiful: those tall
trees, and a great lake, and in summer when the mangoes became ripe it was
so fragrant. I used to go there on my horse so often that the horse became
accustomed to my path....
I used to go on my horse, and seeing those horses in Princess Diana's
wedding procession I could not believe that England could have such
All those people, and I could only love the horses! They were the real
people. What joy! What steps! What dance! Just sheer celebration. I
immediately remembered my own horse, and those days...their fragrance is
there still. I can see the lake, and myself as a child on the horse in the
woods. It is strange--I can smell the mangoes, the neem trees, the pines,
and I can also smell my horse.
It is good that I was not allergic to smell in those days, or, who knows, I
may have been allergic but unaware of it. It is a strange coincidence that
the year of my enlightenment was also the year of my becoming allergic.
[NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis; pisahkan mana yang
emas dan mana yang loyang. Cobalah selami apa yang tersirat.-hh]
Osho's early experiences with orthodox religions
In Jainism a beautiful incident happened.
A woman named Mallibai asked the contemporary tirthankara [Dalam agama
Jaina, orang yang sempurna, telah mencapai pembebasan.-hh], 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 use `kanyadan', then remember, from this
day you will never be able to reach your home...every day those ghosts will
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."(3)
The physician was not present.
He said, "Let the physician come. You should be barred from entering into
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]
[NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis; pisahkan mana yang
emas dan mana yang loyang. Cobalah selami apa yang tersirat.-hh]
Osho's early experiences with orthodox religions (5)
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
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
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?
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.... [uang sogokan.-hh]
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.(6) But I allow the
exception. I allow the exception because I myself never had any master.(7)
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.
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--I 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
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. [last209]
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--I had to vomit two or three times in the night,
the whole night became nightmarish. It would have been better if I had not
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
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
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
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!"
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
(5) Bagian ini mengandung perenungan-perenungan yang bagus.
(6) "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." -- Pernyataan ini
cukup aneh, karena selama ini Osho bicara tentang kebebasan dan
ketidakbergantungan. Namun, ini dapat dipahami, sebagai pembenaran bagi
peranan dirinya sendiri sebagai guru spiritual yang mengklaim mencapai
pencerahan sempurna. Jelas di sini Osho bertentangan pendapat dengan
Krishnamurti, sehingga dapat dipahami bila Osho tidak senang kepada
Krishnamurti. Begitu pula Anand Krishna mengikuti jejak Osho dalam salah
(7) "But I allow the exception. I allow the exception because I myself
never had any master." -- Osho mengklaim dirinya telah mencapai pencerahan
sempurna, sehingga tidak membutuhkan guru siapa pun lagi.
NB: Bacalah kisah berikut ini secara teliti dan kritis; pisahkan mana yang
emas dan mana yang loyang. Cobalah selami apa yang tersirat.-hh]
Osho's early experiences with orthodox religions
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 [Muslim.-hh] 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
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--I 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. [person01]
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
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?"(2)
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
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
(2) "Just out of curiosity I am willing to go through the ritual, but I
absolutely doubt that it has any value." -- Suatu ketidakkonsistenan yang
menarik; tujuannya adalah untuk memperoleh legitimasi dari agama Hindu bagi
pencerahan terakhir yang kelak diklaimnya.