Triphala !

Ramakrishna Paramahamsa !

It happened that some photographer took a picture of Ramakrishna. That was his first picture and the photographer was very happy. He brought the large framed picture to present to Ramakrishna who was sitting with his disciples. He took the picture in his hand and kissed the feet in the picture. The photographer could not believe it! Is this man sane or insane? His own picture, and he is kissing the feet!

Vivekananda, his chief disciple, was sitting by the side. He said, "Paramahansadeva, what are you doing? This is your own picture. Have you seen it or not?" He thought he had not looked at the picture – Just that the man had given it to him, and he must have thought it was some god’s picture, so he had kissed it.

Ramakrishna said, "Is it so? Let me look." He looked and he said, "Yes, it is my picture," and he kissed the feet again!

Vivekananda said, "Now this is too much."

Ramakrishna said, "I am not kissing my own feet. This is a picture of a state, it has nothing to do with me. Just look at the picture," he said, "It is a picture of a certain state. The body is just the outer lines, but look into the eyes, look into the face. And I remember perfectly where I was when this picture was taken: I was in samadhi, so it is a picture of samadhi. And I say to you that only this picture should be distributed, no other picture."

So only that picture hangs in the houses of people who worship Ramakrishna, because that picture was worshipped by Ramakrishna himself. It is absurd logically, but just a little bit of patience and you can see the point. It is a picture of a state. It is immaterial whether Ramakrishna was in that state or Mahavira was in that state or Buddha was in that state. It is immaterial – what matters is that consciousness.

Good music, good poetry, can raise your consciousness. They can create the situation for the entry into the third. Very few musicians have been there very few poets, very few painters, and very few sculptors are capable of creating such artifacts that can give you a resonance inside you.

OSHO

From Misery to Enlightenment, Chapter #5

You have been chosen !

You are here because this existence needs you as you are. Otherwise somebody else would have been here!–existence would not have helped you to be here, would not have created you. You are fulfilling something very essential, something very fundamental, as you are. 

If God wanted a Buddha he could have produced as many Buddhas as he wanted. He produced only one Buddha–that was enough, and he was satisfied to his heart’s desire, utterly satisfied. Since then he has not produced another Buddha or another Christ.

He has created you instead. Just think of the respect that the universe has given to you! You have been chosen, not Buddha, not Christ, not Krishna. You will be needed more, that’s why. You fit more now. Their work is done, they contributed their fragrance to existence. Now you have to contribute your fragrance......

And you can be only yourself–there is no other way, there has never been, there is no possibility that you can be anybody else. You will remain yourself. You can enjoy it and bloom, or you can wither away if you condemn it.

OSHO, 

Transformation Tarot: Insights and Parables for Renewal in Everyday Life

Confucius !

The second, THE ANALECTS OF CONFUCIUS. I don't like Confucius at all, and I don't feel any guilt about not liking him. I feel really relieved that it is now on record. Confucius and Lao Tzu were contemporaries. Lao Tzu was a little older; Confucius had even gone to see Lao Tzu and came back trembling, shaken to the very roots, perspiring. His disciples asked, "What happened in the cave? ... Because you were both there and nobody else."

Confucius said, "It is good that nobody witnessed it. That man, my God, he is a dragon! He would have killed me, but I escaped. He is truly dangerous."

Confucius is reporting truly. A man like Lao Tzu can kill you just to resurrect you; and unless one is ready to die one cannot be reborn. Confucius escaped from his own rebirth.

I have already chosen Lao Tzu, and forever. Confucius belonged to the very ordinary, mundane world. But let it be noted that I don't like him; he is a snob. It is strange he was not born in England.

But anyway, China in those days WAS England. In those days England was just barbarious, there was nothing of value there.

Confucius was a politician, cunning, clever, but not really intelligent; otherwise he would have fallen at the feet of Lao Tzu, he would not have escaped. He was not only afraid of Lao Tzu, he was afraid of silence... because Lao Tzu and silence are the same.

But I wanted to include one of Confucius' most famous books, just to be fair. ANALECTS is his most important book. To me it is just like the roots of a tree, ugly but very essential - what you call a necessary evil. ANALECTS is a necessary evil. In it he talks about the world and worldly matters, politics and all. One disciple asked him, "Master, what about silence?"

Confucius was irritated, annoyed. He shouted at the disciple and said, "Shut up! Silence? - silence you will have in your grave. In life there is no need for it, there are many much more important things to do."

This was his attitude. You can understand why I don't like him. I pity him. He was a good man. Alas, he came so close to one of the greatest, Lao Tzu, and yet missed! I can only shed a tear for him.

Osho 

Books I Have Loved, Chapter#11.

Ambedkar- Gandhi-Osho

Ambedkar wanted the untouchables to have their own constituencies and their own candidates, otherwise they would never be represented in any parliament anywhere.

Who would give votes to a shoemaker? In India a shoemaker is untouchable -- who is going to give him the vote?

Ambedkar was absolutely right. One fourth of the country is untouchable.

They are not allowed in schools because no other student is prepared to sit with them, no teacher is ready to teach them.

The government says the schools are open, but in reality no student is willing.... If one untouchable enters, all thirty students leave the class, the teacher leaves the class. Then how are these poor people -- one fourth of the country -- going to be represented? They should be given separate constituencies where only they can stand and only they can vote.

Ambedkar was perfectly logical and perfectly human.

But Gandhi went on a fast, saying, "He is trying to create a division within the Hindu society."

The division has existed for ten thousand years. That poor Ambedkar was not creating the division, he was simply saying that one fourth of the people of the country had been tortured for thousands of years.

Now at least give them a chance to advance themselves. At least let them voice their problems in the parliament, in the assemblies. But Gandhi said, "I will not allow it while I am alive. They are part of Hindu society, hence they cannot have a separate voting system" -- and he went on fasting.

For twenty-one days Ambedkar remained reluctant, but every day... the pressure of the whole country.

And he started feeling that if this old man dies then there is going to be great bloodshed.

It was clear -- he would be killed immediately, and millions of the untouchables would be killed everywhere, all over the country: "It is because of you that Gandhi died." When the whole arithmetic of how it would work out was explained to him -- "You figure it out soon, because there is not much time, he cannot survive more than three days" -- Ambedkar hesitated.

He was perfectly right; Gandhi was perfectly wrong.

But what to do? Should he take the risk? He was not worried about his life -- if he was killed it was okay -- but he was worried about those millions of poor people who didn't know anything about what was going on.

Their houses would be burned, their women would be raped, their children would be butchered. And it would be something that had never happened before.

Finally he had to accept the conditions. He went with the breakfast in his hand to Mahatma Gandhi, "I accept your conditions.

We will not ask for a separate vote or separate candidates. Please accept this orange juice." And Gandhi accepted the orange juice.

But this orange juice, this one glass of orange juice, contains millions of people's BLOOD.

I have met Doctor Ambedkar. He was one of the most intelligent men I have ever met. But I said, "You proved weak."

He said, "You don't understand: the situation was such that I knew I was right and he was wrong, but what to do with that stubborn old man? He was going to die, and if he died then I would have been responsible for his death, and the untouchables would have suffered."

I said, "That is not the point. Even an idiot could have suggested a simple thing to you.

You should have gone on a fast unto death. And you are so overweight." He was a fat man, four or five times heavier than Gandhi.

"If you had asked me.... A simple solution: just put another cot by the side of Mahatma Gandhi, lie down, and fast unto death. Then let them see! I promise you that Gandhi would have accepted all your conditions within three days."

Ambedkar said, "But this idea never occurred to me."

I said, "You are a fool if this idea never occurred to you! That was the idea with which that man was controlling the whole country -- and it never occurred to you.

The only difficulty would have been to go on a fast -- particularly for a man like you: fat, eating four times a day. Naturally you would not have been able to manage it. Gandhi has practiced his whole life, he is an experienced faster; and you may not have ever missed a single breakfast."

He said, "That is true."

I said, "Otherwise if it had been my problem and he was being so illogical, I would have just laid down, even if I was going to die, and let him be responsible.

He would not have allowed that, because my death would have taken away all his mahatmahood, all his aura, all his leadership of the people. He would not have allowed me to die; he would have accepted my conditions.

"But unfortunately I am not an untouchable, and anyway why should I be bothered with you two'IDIOTS'?

To me both of you are 'IDIOTS' .

You have one fourth of the country in your hands and you can't do anything; that man has nothing in his hands -- but just by fasting.... He has learned a womanly trick. Yes, I call his whole philosophy a feminine psychology."

That's what women do every day. Gandhi must have learned it from his wife. In India women do it every day. The wife will fast, she won't eat, she will lie down. And then the husband starts shaking. He may be right, that is not the point.

Now there is no point of right or wrong; now the point is how to persuade her to eat? Because she is not eating, the children are not eating -- and who is going to do the cooking in the first place? Is he also going to fast? And the children are weeping, and they want food, and the wife is on a fast -- so you agree.

She needs a new sari, you bring it. First you bring the sari, then she goes into the kitchen. This is an old Indian strategy of all women in India.

Gandhi must have learned it from his wife, and he used it really very cleverly.But there is some strange side of the human mind which is impressed by anybody who is capable of torturing himself.

Osho

From Personality to Individuality

Today is Ramana Maharshi's Samadhi day !

It happened, Maharshi Raman was dying. On Thursday April 13th, a doctor brought Maharshi a palliative to relieve the congestion in the lungs, but he refused it.

“It is not necessary, everything will come right within two days,” he said. And after two days he died.

At about sunset, Maharshi told the attendants to sit him up. They knew already that every movement, every touch, was painful, but he told them not to worry about that.

He was suffering from cancer – very painful. Even to drink water was impossible, to eat anything was impossible, to move his head was impossible. Even to say a few words was very difficult.

He sat with one of the attendants supporting his head. A doctor began to give him oxygen, but with a wave of his right hand he motioned him away.

Unexpectedly, a group of devotees sitting on the verandah outside the hall began singing Arunachala-Siva – a bhajan that Maharshi liked very much. He liked that spot, Arunachala, very much; the hill he used to live upon – that hill is called Arunachala. And the bhajan was a praise, a praise for the hill.

On hearing it, Maharshi’s eyes opened and shone. He gave a brief smile of indescribable tenderness. From the outer edges of his eyes tears of bliss rolled down.

Somebody asked him, “Maharshi, are you really leaving us?”

It was hard for him to say, but still he uttered these few words: “They say that I am dying – but I am not going away. Where could I go? I am always here.”

One more breath, and no more. There was no struggle, no spasm, no other sign of death: only that the next breath did not come.

What he says is of immense significance 
“Where could I go? I am always here.”

There is nowhere to go. This is the only existence there is, this is the only dance there is – where can one go? Life comes and goes, death comes and goes – but where can one go? You were there before life.

Osho, Zen: The Path of Paradox, Vol. 2, Talk #6

Condense religion into a single statement

After nine years, when Bodhidharma was returning to India, he gathered four of his chief disciples and he asked them, ”Condense religion into a single statement so that I can know whether you have understood me or not.”

The first one said, ”Compassion is religion. That is Buddha’s basic message: compassion.”

Bodhidharma said, ”You have my bones, but nothing else.”

The second disciple said, ”Meditation. To be silent, to be so utterly silent that not a single thought moves inside you: that is the essence of
religion.”

Bodhidharma said, ”You have my flesh, but nothing more; because in what you are saying, you are only repeating my words. In your eyes I don’t see the silence; on your face I don’t see the depth that
silence brings.”

The third one said, ”It cannot be said. It is inexpressible.”

Bodhidharma said, ”You have my marrow. But if it cannot be said, why have you used even these words? You have already said it. Even in saying’It cannot be said, it cannot be expressed,’ you are saying something about it; hence I say you have only the marrow.”

He turned towards the fourth. There were tears in the disciple’s eyes and he fell at Bodhidharma’s feet. Bodhidharma shook him and asked him again and again, ”What is religion?” But only tears of joy... his hands holding his feet in gratitude. The disciple never spoke a single word, not even that it cannot be said, it is inexpressible.

Bodhidharma hugged him and said, ”You have me. Now I can go in peace because I am leaving something of me behind.”

OSHO

Chapter 11 : Truth: not a dogma but a dance
From Ignorance to Innocence

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