Nation on the March

Nation on the March
Nation on the March

Dec 29, 2010

Let a child teach us how to pray

ABCD of praying ( literally the Baal Shem way) ..

Osho tells us to be child-like....

He tells us like no one else can...

Read on...

When you are praying it is unseemly to make a display of your spiritual knowledge or to recite the scriptures. That is why the prayers of children bear more fruit. And when a saint prays, his prayer is as good as that of a child.
Once a young boy went into his bedroom, jumped straight into bed, and covered himself with his blanket. His mother reminded him that he had not said his prayers. The child replied, "Is it right to awaken God from His sleep on such a cold night? And so late?"
From such a child, God needs no prayer composed of words. His concern that the night was so cold and that it was too late to disturb God's sleep is prayer itself. Feeling like this is enough; there is no need to say anything.

And the word 'God' is merely an excuse, a help in expressing our feelings to the totality. In fact, the whole of existence is God. All is divine. And when you are filled with this feeling of divinity, you become united with the whole of existence. The solution to your problem is in that union.

Your real problem is that you are uprooted. And because you are uprooted you are thirsty. Your roots are unable to absorb water, that is why you feel so afflicted. Even when you have everything you have wished for, you still have the feeling you are missing something, the feeling that you want something. If your roots are not deep beneath the soil you will not be able to absorb water even if the rain is falling. And so you are certain to remain thirsty. To be united with existence is prayer. Prayer is this particular state of feeling.

There is a very fine anecdote about a famous Hebrew mystic named Ba'al Shem. He was a peculiar kind of devotee -- in his prayers he generally quarreled with God. Only lovers can quarrel. If something he didn't like happened, he used to make a lot of fuss. His prayers were worth hearing because they were direct conversations with God.

Baal Shem thought the world was getting worse and worse every day, so he complained to God, "Why don't You come down to earth as You promised? You said You would come when things really got bad. Why are You delaying?" The story tells us that God was greatly harassed by him in this way, and quite often too.
One of Baal Shem's disciples used to make a note of whatever he said. He was writing Baal Shem's biography, and he also used to jot down these chats with God.

The story goes on to say Baal Shem once bothered God so much, He sent His messenger to earth, telling him to brainwash Baal Shem and his disciple so they would forget everything.

Baal Shem was that much of a nuisance. The divine messenger carried out his instructions to the letter. When Baal Shem arose from his prayers, he had forgotten everything. He could not even remember his own name. He did not remember that the world was full of problems and that he wanted God to come and remedy them immediately. He could neither remember who he was nor where he was.

But when he looked at his disciple he had a vague recollection, as if in a dream, that he was a mystic and that this man was his disciple. He asked the disciple to tell him what he could remember of the past. The disciple was unable to tell him anything, he had been brainwashed totally. He replied, "I do not even remember who I am either."

Baal Shem said, "I have given you many lessons in the past. Try to remember a sutra from any one of them and repeat it quickly. Time is passing and we may find ourselves in some difficulty."

The disciple replied, "I remember nothing but the Hebrew alphabet -- ALEPH, BETH, GIMMEL, DALETH..."
Baal Shem said, "Be quick. Speak the letters aloud." The disciple began to recite the alphabet, and Baal Shem followed suit. This one clue brought their memories back. And then Baal Shem began to take God to task. "Why did You play this trick on me?" he asked.
It is said that Baal Shem finished his prayer by repeating the alphabet and thus regained his lost memory. There is nothing of substance in the letters ALEPH, BETH, GIMMEL, or DALETH, but he repeated them with such attentiveness that he regained his original self. And then he shouted to God, "It is absolutely essential the Messiah come down to earth now!"

God recalled His messenger and told him he had not done his job very well. The messenger replied, "It is dangerous to work on this man. No matter how hard one tries, his prayer cannot be snatched away from him. We can take everything from him except his prayer. His prayer has no relationship whatsoever with his brain -- his prayer comes from his totality. His intellect, his words, can be snatched away from him, but his love cannot, his prayer cannot. There, even you are helpless."

Source - Osho ook "The Great Secret"

Dec 28, 2010

Is palace and kingdom an ideal place for Nirvana?

Some one asked Osho : “ If I want to be the Buddha, will I have to renounce all luxuries..”

His  response is incomparable, which can come only from Osho!

Osho says:

“I call these people idiots because they don’t know exactly what they are talking about. I will tell you a story about Gautam Buddha; perhaps this will help these idiots to understand.

Buddha renounced in ignorance, not as a buddha. He renounced his palace and kingdom and luxuries, not as a buddha – he was as ignorant as you are. He was in search of light, he was in darkness and doubt. He was as blind as anyone can be. In this blindness, in this darkness, he thought perhaps renouncing the kingdom, renouncing all comforts and luxuries was going to help him find truth.

What relationship is there? If this is the truth, that you have to renounce the kingdom, then how many people have kingdoms? Then the people who don’t have kingdoms cannot become buddhas. And how big was the kingdom? Do you understand? – there were two thousand kingdoms in India at the time of Buddha. His kingdom was not more than a small tehsil – a part of a district.

But when he became enlightened he came back to his palace to see his old father, whom he had betrayed in a way, because he had been hoping that in his old age his son would take over the burden of the kingdom, but instead he escaped. He was coming back after twelve years to ask forgiveness from the old man, and also his wife, and his son who was now grown twelve years.. the night he was born was the night Gautam Buddha had escaped from the kingdom.

He had gone to see the face of the child, but the child was clinging to the mother and they were covered with blankets. He was afraid to wake up the wife because she might create some tantrum, and his renunciation of the world might be prevented – or delayed, certainly. So he left from the door without seeing the face of his child.

After twelve years, when he became enlightened, the first thing he did was to go back to his kingdom. The father was very angry, but Buddha stood in absolute silence. When the father had said whatever he wanted to say, when his rage was finished, he looked again at the face of the Buddha – he was absolutely unaffected.

When his father had calmed down, Buddha said to him, ”You are unnecessarily being angry with me. I am not the same person who left the palace. I am a new being, with eyes to see. I have achieved the ultimate. Just look at my face, my silence; look into my eyes and the depth of my eyes. Don’t be angry, I have just come to ask your forgiveness that I had to renounce the kingdom. But I have brought a bigger kingdom of the inner, and I have come to share it with you, and all.”

Then he entered into the palace to meet his wife. Of course she was angry... but she also belonged
to a big empire. She was the daughter of a far bigger kingdom, and as the daughter of a great
warrior she had waited for these twelve years without saying a word. What she said is immensely amazing.

She said to Gautam Buddha, ”I am not angry that you renounced the kingdom. I am angry that you
did not say anything to me when you left. Do you think I would have prevented you? I am also the
daughter of a great warrior....”

Buddha felt very embarrassed; he had never thought about it. Her anger was not that he had
renounced the kingdom – that was his business. Her anger was that he did not trust in her, in her love; that he did not trust in her and thought she would have interfered in his renunciation. She was not that type of ordinary woman; she would have rejoiced that he was renouncing the kingdom. Buddha had to ask forgiveness.

His wife – her name was Yashodhara – said, ”For these twelve years I have been carrying only one
question to ask to you. And that question is: whatever you have attained – and certainly you have attained something, I can see it in your eyes, on your face, in your grace. My question is: Whatever you have attained, was it not possible to attain it in the palace, in the kingdom? Was renunciation necessary?

Gautam Buddha said, ”At that time I thought so, because for centuries it has been said that unless you renounce the world you cannot find the ultimate truth. But now I can say with absolute certainty, whatever has happened to me could have happened in the kingdom, in the palace; there was no need to go anywhere.”

This is my answer to the stupid.”

From “No Mind: The Flowers of Eternity”

Dec 26, 2010

Osho tells a Tao story of a beautiful journey!

A Taoist parable:

There is a statue of Lao Tzu, the founder of Tao. And a young man has been thinking for years to go to the mountains and see the statue of Lao Tzu. He loves the words, the way Lao Tzu has spoken, the style of life that he has lived, but he has never seen any of his statues. There are no Taoist temples, so there are very rare statues and they are all in the mountains - standing in the open, carved out of the mountain - no roof, no temple, no priest, no worship.

And years pass, and there are so many things always coming in between. But finally one night he decides that he has to go - and it is not that far, only a hundred miles - but he is a poor man, and he has to walk. In the middle of the night - he chooses the time in the middle of the night so that the wife and the children and the family are asleep and no trouble arises - he takes a lamp in his hand, because the night is dark, and goes out of the town.

As he comes out of the town to the first milestone, a thought arises in him: 'My God, one hundred miles! And I only have two feet - it is going to kill me. I am asking the impossible. I have never walked one hundred miles, and there is no road...' It is a small hill path, a footpath - dangerous too. So he thinks: 'It is better to wait till the morning. At least there will be light, and I can see better; otherwise I will fall somewhere off this small footpath. And without seeing the statue of Lao Tzu, simply be finished. Why commit suicide?'

So he was sitting just outside the town, and as the sun was rising an old man came by. He saw this young man sitting; he asked: 'What are you doing here?' The young man explained.

The old man laughed. He said: 'Have you not heard the ancient saying? Nobody has the power to take two steps together, you can take only one step at a time. The powerful, the weak, the young, the old - it doesn’t matter. And the saying goes: `Just one step by one step, a man can go ten thousand miles’ - and this is only a hundred miles! You seem to be stupid.

And who is saying to you that you should go continuously? You can take time; after ten miles you can rest a day or two days, enjoy. This is one of the most beautiful valleys and the most beautiful mountains and the trees are so full of fruits, fruits that you may not have even tasted. Anyway, I am going; you can come along with me. I have been on this path thousands of times, and I am at least four times your age. Stand up!'

The man was so authoritative, when he said: 'Stand up!' the young man simply stood. And he said: 'Give your things to me. You are young, inexperienced; I will carry your things. You just follow me, and we will take as many rests as you want.'

And what the old man had said was true - as they entered deeper into the forest and the mountains, it became more and more beautiful. And wild, juicy fruits... and they were resting; whenever he wanted, the old man was ready. He was surprised that the old man himself never said it was time to rest. But whenever the young man said it was time to rest, he was always willing to rest with him - a day or two, and then they would start the journey again.

Those one hundred miles just came and went by, and they reached one of the most beautiful statues of one of the greatest men who has ever walked on the earth. Even his statue had something - it was not just a piece of art, it was created by Taoist artists to represent the spirit of Tao.

Tao believes in the philosophy of let-go. It believes you are not to swim, but just to flow with the river, allow the river to take you wherever it is going - because every river ultimately reaches to the ocean. So don’t be worried, you will reach the ocean. There is no need to be tense.

In that lonely spot the statue was standing, and there was a waterfall just by the side - because Tao is called the watercourse way. Just as the water goes on and on flowing with no guidebooks, with no maps, with no rules, no discipline... but strangely enough in a very humble way, because it is always seeking the lower position everywhere. It never goes uphill. It always goes downhill, but it reaches to the ocean, to its very source.

The whole atmosphere there was representative of the Taoist idea of let-go. The old man said: 'Now begins the journey.'

The young man said: 'What? I was thinking, one hundred miles and the journey is finished.'

The old man said: 'That is just the way the masters have been talking to people. But the reality is now - from this point, from this atmosphere, a journey of one thousand and one miles begins. And I will not deceive you, because after one thousand and one miles you will meet another old man - perhaps me - who will say: `This is just a stopover, go on.’ Go on is the message.'

The journey itself is the goal.

It is infinite. It is eternal.

                                 Osho, Tao The Pathless Path

Dec 23, 2010

राजा हो या फकीर, अहंकार की पकड़ वही की वही

लेकिन सम्राट को सदा मन में यह होता था कि मैं उसे भलीभांति जानता हूं, वह बड़ा अहंकारी था स्कूल के दिनों में, कालेज के दिनों में–अचानक इतना महात्याग उसमें फलित हो गया ! इस पर भरोसा सम्राट को न आता था। फिर यह जिज्ञासा उसकी बढ़ती गई। अंततः उसने अपने मित्र को निमंत्रण भेजा कि अब तुम महात्यागी हो गए हो, राजधानी आओ, मुझे भी सेवा का अवसर दो। मेरे प्रजाजनों को भी बोध दो, जगाओ !

निमंत्रण स्वीकार हुआ। वह फकीर राजधानी की तरफ आया। सम्राट ने उसके स्वागत के लिए बड़ा आयोजन किया। पुराना मित्र था। फिर इतना ख्यातिलब्ध, इतनी प्रशंसा को प्राप्त, इतना गौरवान्वित ! तो उसने कुछ छोड़ा नहीं, सारी राजधानी को सजाया–फूलों से, दीपों से ! रास्ते पर सुंदर कालीन बिछाए, बहुमूल्य कालीन बिछाए। जहां से उसका प्रवेश होना था, वहाँ से राजमहल तक दीवाली की स्थिति खड़ी कर दी।

फकीर आया, लेकिन सम्राट हैरान हुआ... वह नगर के द्वार पर उसकी प्रतीक्षा करता था अपने पूरे दरबारियों को लेकर, लेकिन चकित हुआ : वर्षा के दिन न थे, राहें सूखी पड़ी थीं, लोग पानी के लिए तड़फ रहे थे और फकीर घुटनों तक कीचड़ से भरा था। वह भरोसा न कर सका कि इतनी कीचड़ राह में कहां मिल गई, और घुटने तक कीचड़ से भरा हुआ है ! पर सबके सामने कुछ कहना ठीक न था। दोनों राजमहल पहुंचे। जब दोनों एकांत में पहुंचे तो सम्राट ने पूछा कि मुझे कहें, यह अड़चन कहां आई ? आपके पैर कीचड़ से भरे हैं !

उसने कहा, अड़चन का कोई सवाल नहीं। जब मैं आ रहा था तो लोगों ने मुझसे कहा कि तुम्हें पता है, तुम्हारा मित्र, अपना वैभव दिखाने के लिए राजधानी को सजा रहा है ? वह तुम्हें झेंपाना चाहता है। तुम्हें कहना चाहता है, ‘तुमने क्या पाया ? नंगे फकीर हो ! देखो मुझे !’ उसने रास्ते पर बहुमूल्य कालीन बिछाए, लाखो रुपये खर्च किए गए हैं। राजधानी दुल्हन की तरह सजी है। वह तुम्हें दिखाना चाहता है। वह तुम्हें फीका करना चाहता है।... तो मैंने कहा कि देख लिए ऐसा फीका करने वाले ! अगर वह बहुमूल्य कालीन बिछा सकता है, तो मैं फकीर हूं, मैं कीचड़ भरे पैरों से उन कालीनों पर चल सकता हूं। मैं दो कौड़ी का मूल्य नहीं मानता !

जब उसने ये बातें कहीं तो सम्राट ने कहा, अब मैं निश्चिंत हुआ। मेरी जिज्ञासा शांत हुई। आपने मुझे तृप्त कर दिया। यही मेरी जिज्ञासा थी।

फकीर ने पूछा, क्या जिज्ञासा थी ?

‘यही जिज्ञासा थी कि आपको मैं सदा से जानता हूं। स्कूल में, कालेज में आपसे ज्यादा अहंकारी कोई भी न था। आप इतनी विनम्रता को उपलब्ध हो गए, यही मुझे संदेह होता था। अब मुझे कोई चिंता नहीं। आओ हम गले मिलें, हम एक ही जैसे हैं। तुम मुझ ही जैसे हो। कुछ फर्क नहीं हुआ है। मैंने एक तरह से अपने अहंकार को भरने की चेष्टा की है–सम्राट होकर; तुम दूसरी तरह से उसी अहंकार को भरने की चेष्टा कर रहे हो। हमारी दिशाएं अलग हों, हमारे लक्ष्य अलग नहीं। और मैं तुमसे इतना कहना चाहता हूं, मुझे तो पता है कि मैं अहंकारी हूं, तुम्हें पता ही नहीं कि तुम अहंकारी हो। तो मैं तो किसी न किसी दिन इस अहंकार से ऊब ही जाऊंगा, तुम कैसे ऊबोगे ? तुम पर मुझे बड़ी दया आती है। तुमने तो अहंकार को खूब सजा लिया। तुमने तो उसे त्याग के वस्त्र पहना दिए।’ 

जो व्यक्ति संसार से ऊबता है, उसके लिए त्याग का खतरा है।
दुनिया में दो तरह के संसारी हैं–एक, जो दुकानों में बैठे हैं; और एक, जो मंदिरों में बैठे हैं। दुनिया में दो तरह के संसारी हैं–एक, जो धन इकट्ठा कर रहे हैं; एक जिन्होंने धन पर लात मार दी है। दुनिया में दो तरह के दुनियादार हैं–एक जो बाहर की चीजों से अपने को भर रहे हैं; और दूसरे, जो सोचते हैं कि बाहर की चीजों को छोड़ने से अपने को भर लेंगे। दोनों की भ्रांति एक ही है। न तो बाहर की चीजों से कभी कोई अपने को भर सकता है और न बाहर की चीजों को छोड़ कर अपने को भर सकता है।  भराव का कोई भी संबंध बाहर से नहीं है। 

एक आदमी भोग में पड़ा है, धन इकट्ठा करता, सुंदर स्त्री की तलाश करता, सुंदर पुरुष को खोजता, बड़ा मकान बनाता–तुम पूछो उससे, क्यों बना रहा है ? वह कहता है, इससे सुख मिलेगा। एक आदमी सुंदर मकान छोड़ देता, पत्नी को छोड़ कर चला जाता, घर-द्वार से अलग हो जाता, नग्न भटकने लगता, संन्यासी हो जाता–पूछो उससे, यह सब तुम क्यों कर रहे हो ? वह कहेगा, इससे सुख मिलेगा। तो दोनों की सुख की आकांक्षा है और दोनों मानते हैं कि सुख को पाने के लिए कुछ किया जा सकता है। यही भ्रांति है।

सुख स्वभाव है। उसे पाने के लिए तुम जब तक कुछ करोंगे, तब तक उसे खोते रहोगे। तुम्हारे पाने की चेष्टा में ही तुमने उसे गंवाया है। संसारी एक तरह से गंवाता, त्यागी दूसरी तरह से गंवाता। तुम किस भांति गंवाते, इससे कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता। तुम किस ढंग की शराब पीकर बेहोश हो, इससे कुछ फर्क नहीं पड़ता। तुम किस मार्के की शराब पीते हो, इससे कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता।

लेकिन इस गणित को ठीक खयाल में ले लेना। संसारी कहता है, इतना-इतना मेरे पास होगा तो मैं सुखी हो जाऊँगा। त्यागी कहता है, मेरे पास कुछ भी न होगा तो मैं सुखी हो जाऊंगा। दोनों के सुख सशर्त हैं। और जब तक तुम शर्त लगा रहे हो सुख पर, तब तक तुम्हें एक बात समझ में नहीं आई कि सुख तुम्हारा स्वभाव है। उसे पाने कहीं जाना नहीं; सुख मिला ही हुआ है। तुम जाना छोड़ दो। तुम कहीं भी खोजो मत। तुम अपने भीतर विश्राम में उतर जाओ। 

चैतन्य में विश्राम को पहुंच जाना ही सुख है, आनंद है, सच्चिदानंद है।
तुम कहीं भी मत जाओ ! तरंग ही न उठे जाने की ! जाने का अर्थ ही होता है : हट गए तुम अपने स्वभाव से। मांगा तुमने कुछ, चाहा तुमने कुछ, खोजा तुमने कुछ–च्युत हुए अपने स्वभाव से। न मांगा, न खोजा, न कहीं गए–की आंख बंद, डूबे अपने में !

जो है। वह इसी क्षण तुम्हारे पास है। जो है, उसे तुम सदा से लेकर चलते रहे हो। जो है वह तुम्हारी गुदड़ी में छिपा है। वह हीरा तुम्हारी गुदड़ी में पड़ा है। तुम गुदड़ी देखते हो और भीख मांगते हो। तुम सोचते हो, हमारे पास क्या ? और हीरा गुदड़ी में पड़ा है। तुम गुदड़ी खोलो। और जिसे तुम खोजते थे, तुम चकित हो जाओगे, वही तो आश्चर्य है–जो जनक को आंदोलित कर दिया है। जनक कह रहे हैं, ‘आश्चर्य ! ऐसा मन होता है कि अपने को ही नमस्कार कर लूं, कि अपने चरण छू लूं ! हद हो गई, जो मिला ही था, उसे खोजता था ! मैं तो परमेश्वरों का परमेश्वर हूं ! मैं तो इस सारे जगत का सार हूं ! मै तो सम्राट हूं ही और भिखारी बना घूमता था !’

सम्राट होना हमारा स्वभाव है; भिखारी होना हमारी आदत। भिखारी होना हमारी भूल है। भूल को ठीक कर लेना है; न कहीं खोजने जाना है, न कुछ खोजना है।

भोग और त्याग दोनों एक ही लकीर के दो छोर हे
आप किस छोर पर हे .......??

ओशो ने हमारे लिए यह प्यारी कहानी लिखी है |

पुरानी सूफियों की एक कथा है। एक सम्राट जब छोटा बच्चा था, स्कूल में पढ़ता था, तो उसकी एक युवक से बड़ी मैत्री थी। फिर जीवन के रास्ते अलग-अलग हुए। सम्राट का बेटा तो सम्राट हो गया। वह जो उसका मित्र था, वह त्यागी हो गया, वह फकीर हो गया। उसकी दूर-दिंगत तक प्रशंसा फैल गई–फकीर की। यात्री दूर-दूर से उसके चरणों में आने लगे। खोजी उसका संत्संग करने आने लगे। जैसे-जैसे खोजियों की भीड़ बढ़ती गई, उसका त्याग भी बढ़ता गया। अंततः उसने वस्त्र भी छोड़ दिए वह दिंगबर हो गया। फिर तो वह सूर्य की भांति चमकने लगा। और त्यागियों को उसने पीछे छोड़ दिया।

Dec 20, 2010

Hotei, the rare laughing endangered specie!

Remember the  Laughing Buddha found in many Indian homes? He  is the Japanese Hotei, ( Chinese name, Pu-tai ) , The name literally means “linen sack.”
He was a jolly,  rotund monk of the 10th  century who went  from village to village, playing with children, bringing them sweet goodies  in his sack, like the phenomenal  Santa Claus. At night, the linen sack doubled up as his sleeping mat!  
Osho  feels that Hotei is a fast vanish tribe !

Osho elaborates on this very beautifully:

“Laughter is the very essence of religion. Seriousness is never religious, cannot be religious.

Seriousness is of the ego, part of the very disease. Laughter is egolessness. Yes, there is a difference between when you laugh and when a religious man laughs. The difference is that you laugh always about others — the religious man laughs at himself, or at the whole ridiculousness of man’s being.

Religion cannot be anything other than a celebration of life. And the serious person becomes handicapped: he creates barriers. He cannot dance, he cannot sing, he cannot celebrate. The very dimension of celebration disappears from his life. He becomes desert-like. And if you are a desert, you can go on thinking and pretending that you are religious but you are not.
You may be a sectarian, but not religious. You can be a Christian, a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Jain, a Mohammedan, but you cannot be religious. You believe in something, but you don’t know anything. You believe in theories. 
A man too much burdened by theories becomes serious. A man who is unburdened, has no burden of theories over his being, starts laughing. The whole play of existence is so beautiful that laughter can be the only response to it. Only laughter can be the real prayer, gratitude.
This Hotei is tremendously significant. Rarely has a man like Hotei walked on the earth. It is unfortunate — more people should be like Hotei; more temples should be full of laughter, dancing, singing. If seriousness is lost, nothing is lost — in fact, one becomes more healthy and whole. But if laughter is lost, everything is lost. Suddenly you lose the festivity of your being; you become colorless, monotonous, in a way dead. Then you energy is not streaming any more.
Laughter is a flowering. If Buddha was the seed, then Hotei is the flower on the same tree. If Buddha is the roots, then Hotei is the flower on the same tree. And if you want to understand Buddha, try to understand Hotei. And it is right that people used to call him the Laughing Buddha. Buddha has come of age in Hotei. Buddha has laughed in Hotei. Enlightenment has come to its very crescendo.
But it is difficult to understand Hotei. To understand him you will have to be in that festive dimension. If you are too much burdened with theories, concepts, notions, ideologies, theologies, philosophies, you will not be able to see what this Hotei is, what his significance is — because he will laugh looking at you. He will laugh because he will not be able to believe that a man can be so foolish and so ridiculous.

It is as if a man is just trying to live on a cookery book and has forgotten to cook food; just goes on studying books about food and how to prepare it and how not to prepare it, and argues this way and that — and is all the time hungry, all the time dying, and has forgotten completely that one cannot live on books.
That’s what has happened: people are living on Bibles, Korans, Dhammapadas, Gitas — they have completely forgotten that religion has to be lived. It is something that has to be digested. It is something that has to circulate in your blood, become your bones, your very marrow. You cannot just think about it. Thinking is the most superficial part of your being. You have to absorb it!

Source – Osho Book “A Sudden Clash of Thunder”

Dec 18, 2010

The Zen story of missing painting

Osho on Ten Bulls of Zen & Missing painting

Ten Bulls of Zen. 

That is one of the most beautiful stories man has ever created. It is a collection of ten paintings....

In the first painting, the bull is lost, the owner is looking here and there, and there are trees all around, but there is no sign of the bull.

In the second picture, he recognizes deep in the forest just the tail of the bull. It indicates that perhaps the bull is hiding there behind the trees.

In the third picture he sees the footprints of the bull, going towards the same direction where he can see the tail of the bull.

In the fourth he has seen the whole bull.

In the fifth he has caught hold of the bull.

In the sixth he has managed to ride on it.

In the seventh he is coming back towards home, sitting on the bull. 

In the eighth he has put the bull in the stall from where he has escaped.

In the ninth he is sitting by the side of the bull, playing on the flute. These nine paintings are existent in Zen as it exists in Japan, but the original collection was Chinese....

The last painting is missing in these paintings, and the last painting is the most important. It is not just by accident that this painting is missing. It has been dropped deliberately, considering the implications of it. It is a dangerous painting because in the tenth the man is going towards the marketplace with a bottle of alcohol.

What are you going to do after you become enlightened? That's what I was saying to you... after a few minutes one starts feeling thirsty, it is time....

The tenth was of immense importance; it says that even when you have found the bull -- which is symbolic of finding yourself -- it does not mean that you become superior to other human beings. When you have found yourself, rather than becoming superior to others, for the first time you understand humbleness and you start moving towards the marketplace: to the lowliest, humblest, towards the pub where people are drunk. Your Buddhahood does not make the drunkards condemned, but you yourself start moving towards the pub to make friends with the condemned, to help them come out of their drunkenness. And that is the only way to help them, to be with them.

One Zen master in Japan was continuously being sent to jail for small things... stealing. And a great master -- even the magistrates respected him. They asked him, "Why do you do this? You have thousands of disciples; even the emperor comes to touch your feet -- and you have stolen somebody's shoes...!"

He simply smiled. And his whole life it continued -- three months in jail, then two or three months outside. Then again he would find a way... and finally everybody became accustomed to the fact that he is incurable.

But there must be some secret....

The day he was dying, one disciple asked, "Don't leave us before telling the secret. Why did you continue your whole life stealing absolutely unnecessary things? We were ready to offer you anything you wanted; you never asked for anything."
The man, before dying opened his eyes and he said, "The reason was that in the prison are the most drunk, asleep people -- murderers, rapists, thieves, all kinds of criminals. I had to be with them to awaken them; there was no other way."

This man must have been of immense compassion. But, afraid it would be misunderstood, when this series of paintings moved from China to Japan the tenth picture was dropped. You will also agree that it does not look good that Gautam Buddha is going towards the pub....

A professor used to come to me -- he was a professor in the same university as I was, and he said, "I would like to be a sannyasin" -- he was immensely impressed -- "but the only fear is that after becoming a sannyasin I cannot go to the pub, and you know that I am addicted to alcohol. Wearing the robe of the sannyasin it will look very weird and other drunks will start laughing."

I said, "There is no harm. Drink anyway. Become a sannyasin and give it a try."
He became a sannyasin and the second day he came -- "You have put me in trouble. I was thinking there is only one trouble, the pub; there are many. My wife now touches my feet! She says, `You are so spiritual!' Now I cannot relate with her in any other way, except by giving her a blessing."

He was very angry, he said, "You! You must have known and still you did it to me -- and I have been your friend for so long. Last night in the dark I sneaked towards the pub, hoping that everybody must have left by this time, but the bartender was there. He immediately fell on the ground, touched my feet and he said, `What a great transformation!' Now I feel like killing you!"

I said, "It is strange... You asked for sannyas. It certainly brings troubles, but if you can be a little patient it will also bring blessings, ecstasies, which are far more important than the wife or the pub or your friends."

He said, "I have to be patient because I cannot go backward; that would be very humiliating."

Afraid of this situation, the Japanese masters who had brought the paintings from China dropped the tenth painting. But because it is still called the "ten" paintings of Zen, the "Ten Bulls of Zen," I became curious because when I counted there were only nine. I had to work for years to find out that they are not Japanese, they are Chinese. They still carry the old title but the tenth painting has been dropped.
Just the consideration that if people become enlightened and still go to the pub to drink alcohol, or go to the gambling places... it will be very difficult to protect their respectability. Just to protect their respectability they thought it was better to drop the tenth painting completely: Don't take it to Japan; only nine are perfectly good. You have found yourself -- now play on the flute, enjoy....

But just the flute will not do. To enjoy, many more things are needed -- and that tenth painting contains many more things.

Source - Osho Book "Live Zen"

Dec 17, 2010

How Buddha dealt with His disciples!

Maulingaputta & Gautam Buddha

One great philosopher, Maulingaputta, came to Buddha, and he started asking questions... questions after questions. Must have been an incarnation of Patrick! Buddha listened silently for half an hour. Maulingaputta started feeling a little embarrassed because he was not answering, he was simply sitting there smiling, as if nothing had happened, and he had asked such important questions, such significant questions. 

Finally Buddha said, "Do you really want to know the answer?" Maulingaputta said, "Otherwise why should I have come to you? I have traveled at least one thousand miles to see you." And remember, in those days, one thousand miles was really one thousand miles! It was not hopping in a plane and reaching within minutes or within hours. One thousand miles was one thousand miles. 

It was with great longing, with great hope that he had come. He was tired, weary from the journey, and he must have followed Buddha because Buddha himself was traveling continuously. He must have reached one place and people said, "Yes, he was here three months ago. He has gone to the north" -- so he must have traveled north. 

Slowly slowly, he was coming closer and closer and then the day came, the great day, when people said, "Just yesterday morning he left; he must have reached only the next village. If you rush, if you run, you may be able to catch him." 

And then one day he caught up with him, and he was so joyous he forgot all his arduous journey and he started asking all the questions he had planned all the way along, and Buddha smiled and sat there and asked, "Do you really want to have the answer?" 

Maulingaputta said, "Then why have I traveled so long? It has been a long suffering -- it seems I have been traveling my whole life, and you are asking, 'Do you really want the answer?'" 

Buddha said, "I am asking again: Do you really want the answer? Say yes or no, because much will depend on it." 

Maulingaputta said, "Yes!" 

Then Buddha said, "For two years sit silently by my side -- no asking, no questions, no talking. Just sit silently by my side for two years. And after two years you can ask whatsoever you want to ask, and I promise you I will answer it." 

A disciple, a great disciple of Buddha, Manjushree, who was sitting underneath another tree, started laughing so loudly, started almost rolling on the ground. 

Maulingaputta said, "What has happened to this man? Out of the blue, you are talking to me, you have not said a single word to him, nobody has said anything to him -- is he telling jokes to himself?" 
Buddha said, "You go and ask him." 

He asked Manjushree. Manjushree said, "Sir, if you really want to ask the question, ask right now -- this is his way of deceiving people. He deceived me. I used to be a foolish philosopher just like you. His answer was the same when I came; you have traveled one thousand miles, I had traveled two thousand." 

Manjushree certainly was a great philosopher, more well-known in the country. He had thousands of disciples. When he had come he had come with one thousand disciples -- a great philosopher coming with his following. 

"And Buddha said, 'Sit silently for two years.' And I sat silently for two years, but then I could not ask a single question. Those days of silence...slowly slowly, all questions withered away. And one thing I will tell you: he keeps his promise, he is a man of his word. After exactly two years -- I had completely forgotten, lost track of time, because who bothers to remember? As silence deepened I lost track of all time. 

"When two years passed, I was not even aware of it. I was enjoying the silence and his presence. I was drinking out of him. It was so incredible! In fact, deep down in my heart I never wanted those two years to be finished, because once they were finished he would say, 'Now give your place to somebody else to sit by my side, you move away a little. Now you are capable of being alone, you don't need me so much.' 

Just as the mother moves the child when he can eat and digest and no longer needs to be fed on the breast. So," Manjushree said, "I was simply hoping that he would forget all about those two years, but he remembered -- exactly after two years he asked, 'Manjushree, now you can ask your questions.' I looked within; there was no question and no questioner either -- a total silence. I laughed, he laughed, he patted my back and said, 'Now, move away.' 

"So, Maulingaputta, that's why I started laughing, because now he is playing the same trick again. And this poor Maulingaputta will sit for two years silently and will be lost forever, will never be able to ask a single question. So I insist, Maulingaputta, if you really want to ask, ASK NOW!" 

From Dhammapada Vol 1 by OSHO
Note: Maulingaputta accepted Buddha's condition 

and realized the Buddha Nature.