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।

Hotei, the rare laughing Buddha..an 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 10^th  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”

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"

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.

Last ( and first) teaching of Gautam Buddha : Be Your Own Light

आत्म दीपो भव:

The last statement of Gautama the Buddha to his disciples was: 

Be a light unto yourself. 

They were crying and weeping, naturally — the master was leaving and they had lived with the master for almost forty years; a few older disciples had lived with him the whole time. 

These forty years were of tremendous joy, of great experiences. These forty years had been the most beautiful time possible, humanly possible. These forty years had been days of paradise on earth. And now the master is leaving! It was natural, they started crying and weeping.

  

Buddha opened his eyes and said,

“Stop crying and weeping! Have you not listened to me yet? Why are you crying?”

His chief disciple, Ananda, said, 

“Because you are leaving, because our light is leaving. We see, we feel darkness descending upon us. I have not yet become enlightened and you are leaving. If I could not become enlightened while you were alive, what is the hope for me now when you will be gone? I am in great despair, my anguish is incalculable, I have wasted these forty years. I have been following you like a shadow, it was tremendously beautiful to be with you, but now you are leaving. What is going to happen to us?”

Buddha said, 

“You are crying because you have not heard me yet. I have been telling you again and again: Don’t believe in me — but you have not listened. Because you have believed in me, and now I am dying, your whole structure is falling apart. Had you listened to me, had you created a light into your being rather than becoming knowledgeable through me, if you had experienced your own self there would have been no need to cry.

“Look at Manjushree!” he said — Manjushree was another disciple of Buddha, one of the greatest. He was sitting under a tree just close by, with closed eyes, so serene, so quiet, so utterly blissful, that Buddha said, “Look at Manjushree! Go and ask him why he is not crying.”

They asked Manjushree. He laughed and said, 

“What reason is there to cry? Buddha has helped me to know my own light. I am thankful, I am grateful, but there is no darkness descending. And how can Buddha die? I know I cannot die — how can Buddha die? He will be here. Just as a river disappears in the ocean he will disappear into the cosmos. But he will be here! He will be spread all over the cosmos. It is going to be something tremendously beautiful. Buddha was confined to a small body; now his fragrance will be released, he will permeate the whole of existence. I am tremendously happy that now Buddha will be spread all over space. I will be able to see him rising in the sun and I will be able to see him flying in a bird and I will be able to see him in the waves of the ocean… and I will be able to see him everywhere.

“He is simply leaving his body. It was a confinement. And how do I know it? I know it because I have known my own soul. I listened to him and you have not listened to him — that’s why you are crying.”

Buddha said, 

“Let me repeat again: APPA DIPO BHAVA — be a light unto yourself.” 


“ You think I can make you enlightened – that’s why these forty-two years have gone by and you have not attained.


 Perhaps after my death, within twenty-four hours you may become enlightened. For these forty-two years there was a hope that I would do something. 


Nobody can do anything. 


Be a light unto yourself.”

Then he closed his eyes and disappeared into the cosmos. But his last statement was also his first statement. In fact that was his whole message — the whole of his life he was repeating the same message again and again and again.

Writes Osho: 

Just a small light is enough, and you can go on with that small light for ten thousand miles without any difficulty. Your light may be falling only four feet ahead of you – just go on moving. As you move, the light will be moving ahead, and if you can see four feet ahead, that’s enough. You can go as far as you want. You can go on an eternal pilgrimage with just a small light of your own.

Don’t live on borrowed light.

Don’t live on borrowed eyes.

Don’t live on borrowed concepts.

Live according to your own light, and your life will be, each and every moment, a greater joy, a greater blissfulness, a greater ecstasy.

Source – Osho Books 

Happy Diwali made happier by one Beautiful Poem !!

मन in Gujarati has various meanings such as  mind; desire, 

wish; heart; conscience, etc. 

In this simple and beautiful poem, the poet uses another 

Gujarati word अजवाल. It also has various meanings such as 

to burnish, cleanse; make a light, enlighten;  enhance one's reputation; etc

In rural households, in the pre-stainless steel era,  cooking utensils were and ofter are still made from  copper and brass. At festive times, the womenfolk will make extra efforts and rub and rinse them with fine-particled sand and ash and display them proudly on their kitchen shelves. It was a respectable mark of tidiness and great housekeeping !

He suggests that like the women burnish and cleanse the utensils  and make them sparkling, so should we burnish and cleanse the mind and heart which often becomes an ocean of discontent; forgetful of what it is bestowed with and mindful only of what has escaped from its fingers!

This  Diwali, the festival of the million lights, let me burnish and clean  my heart and mind and conscience of its dirt and dust - gathered over the time - and let this precious inner vessel sparkle and be filled with contentment and gratitude for the treasure that I already have been gifted with.

This poem gives in few simple sentences the master-key to eternal happiness and rest and respite from the rat race. Let me acquire this master-key and make the remainder of life joyful and peaceful.

I enjoyed this poem and its beautiful message  and hope it will sparkle a few thoughts in some more hearts, too!

Happy Diwali