STORY OF THE DAY

[Ramesh Ramnani]

A beautiful poem by Rabindranath Tagore, "The King of the Night"....Part-I

... There used to be a very huge temple, so huge that there were one hundred priests to worship the statues of gods in the temple. One night the chief priest dreamt, and the dream was such that it made him wake up -- he could not believe it, but he could not disbelieve it either.

In the dream he saw God himself saying to him, "Tomorrow is the fullmoon night. Clean the whole temple, get ready -- I may come any moment. For thousands of years this temple has been calling me, but the call was professional; hence it was not heard. Your call is not professional. You are the first chief priest in this temple whose heart is full of longing, full of prayer, full of waiting. You are not simply doing the rituals, your whole life is in it. So don't forget: tomorrow I am coming and I am giving you an advance notice, so that the temple is ready to receive the guest for which it was made many, many centuries before."

It was difficult to believe that God would speak to him -- he is nobody, he does not deserve it. On the contrary, he has so many weaknesses, so many frailties which every human being is prone to... but on the other hand, how to disbelieve? The dream was truer than our so-called true life.

He was worried about what he was going to say to the other priests, because they will make him a laughingstock. The temple has been there for centuries and God has never come.

But even if it looks awkward, embarrassing, he has to tell them, because he alone cannot clean the whole temple; it is so big, so huge....

He woke up all the priests and said, "Forgive me for disturbing your sleep. I am in a dilemma: I have seen this dream...."And all the priests laughed -- because priests are the only people who don't believe in God. They know perfectly well that God is a strategy to exploit people.

They said, "It was just a dream, go back to sleep." But the chief priest could not sleep. In the morning he said, "It may have been just a dream, but who knows? If God comes and finds us unprepared, it will be such a shame. So I order you, as the chief priest, to clean the temple, to decorate the temple with flowers, with candles. Make it fragrant with incense, and let us wait. Even if it was only a dream, and God does not turn up, there is no harm. The temple needs cleaning, and it is a good opportunity."

The whole day the temple was cleaned, decorated. Delicious food was made for God, but the whole day passed and there was no sign. And the chief priest was standing at the door, looking far away where the sky seems to meet the earth -- the temple was in a very lonely place -- but the road remained empty; nobody came.

The day disappeared into night. They were all hungry because they were waiting: first God should be served. And then all the other priests said, "We had told you, a dream is just a dream.

Contd...

[Ramesh Ramnani]

A beautiful poem by Rabindranath Tagore, "The King of the Night".... Concluding Part....


Who has ever heard of God coming to the temples? You are very naive, very simple, very innocent. Now let us eat -- we are feeling hungry and tired -- and go to sleep."

So they closed the doors, and ate the food that they had made for God. And because they were tired from the whole day's cleaning and decoration and preparation, they immediately fell asleep.

In the middle of the night a golden chariot came on the road leading to the temple. The sound of the chariot coming... and the chief priest was deep down still feeling that God cannot be so deceptive, particularly to a man who has never done any harm to him. He heard the sound of the chariot. He woke up the priests, and he said, "He is coming! I have just heard the sound of the chariot, listen."

And they were half asleep and they said, "Just go to sleep! You are going mad, just because of a dream. This is not a chariot, this is just the clouds thundering." He was alone. They silenced him.

The chariot came to the door. God stepped onto the long steps reaching up to the temple. He knocked on the door. Again the chief priest said, "I have heard somebody knocking on the door! Perhaps God has come." And now it was too much. Annoying them in the middle of the night... utterly tired and exhausted priests. Somebody shouted at him and said, "You shut up and just go to sleep! It is nothing but the breeze hitting the doors.

No God has come and no chariot has come; it has never happened." They again silenced him.

In the morning when the chief priest... he could not sleep; the waiting kept him awake, the longing kept him awake. He got up early and opened the door -- "My god!" he said, "He has come" -- because on the road there were signs of a chariot coming up to the door, and on the steps he could see the signs of someone reaching the door. He looked carefully... because dust had gathered on the steps and there were perfect impressions of the feet. It was no one other than God, because the impressions in the dust were exactly the same as had been described in the ancient scriptures; exactly how the feet of God would make an impression.
 
With tears in his eyes, he ran inside and made all the priests wake up. And he said "You did not listen to me -- it was not clouds thundering in the sky, it was the chariot of God. And it was not the wind knocking at the doors it was God himself who knocked. But now it is too late."

This beautiful poem has immense significance. God comes to every heart -- because that is the temple, the only temple -- and knocks on the heart. But you go on rationalizing, and your doors are closed.

But man has believed in God in as ugly a way as possible, because his God is nothing but all his desires, all his demands. It is not a humble prayer, a humble invitation.

Our so-called idea of God is just a means to serve us. You may not have ever thought about it, that your God is nothing but a servant. He has to do this, he has to do that. The true religious man is a servant to God; he has no demand. He has only one longing: that God may use him for His purposes. He wants to become nothing but a hollow bamboo flute, so God can sing His song through him. He simply wants not to obstruct but to remain absolutely empty, so God can make of his emptiness whatsoever He wants.

This is trust.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

You have it, but you don't possess it........

An ancient story is.... In India there are very refined instruments of music; nowhere else in the world has such refinement happened. Just one single man -- who lives in the Himalayas and comes once in a while to the plains -- plays a special veena which used to exist in the past. And many musicians used to play it, but now only one person knows how to play it. It is called rudra veena. Rudra is another name of Shiva; Shiva used to play it. To play it needs such a long discipline, four or five hours' practice every day for years; then only can you bring those subtle notes out of it.

The ancient story is that in one house there was a strange musical instrument which had been there for generations. Nobody knew what to do with it, and it was a nuisance. It had to be cleaned, dust would gather on it, and it was taking up space in the room. And sometimes in the middle of the night a rat would jump on it and create noise.
 
Finally they decided, "It is useless for us; it is better to get rid of it." So they went out and threw it on the garbage pile by the side of the road.

They had not even reached back home and they heard such sweet music... they had never even imagined. So they turned back -- a beggar was playing the instrument, and a crowd had gathered.

The beggar knew, he was a musician, but a musician of such old and ancient instruments that even to find people who could understand it was difficult, so there was no possibility for him to earn anything. He had become a beggar so that he could continue discovering old, ancient instruments about which we have completely forgotten. And as he saw this instrument he could not believe it, because he had been in search of this instrument for years.

There was utter silence in the crowd -- everybody who was passing on the road stopped. The people of the house came back, and when he stopped playing they said, "That instrument belongs to us."

The beggar said, "Remember one thing: a musical instrument belongs to one who knows how to play it, there is no other kind of ownership. You have thrown it in the garbage. You have insulted an immensely valuable thing.

"And what will you do with it? Again it will gather dust and you will have to clean it. Again rats will make noise in the night and disturb your sleep.

This instrument can be played only if one knows how to play a few other instruments. They are the steps, and this is the end, and I have been searching for it. All other instruments I have found, but this, the final instrument, was missing. You cannot claim ownership of it.

"If you can play it here, before the crowd, it is yours. Otherwise, it belongs to me."

Music is not property; it is art, it is love. It is devotion, it is prayer. You cannot possess it.

The same is my feeling about your being.

You have it, but you don't possess it because you don't know how to play the instrument of your being. All that you know is the mind, which is only a vehicle; the heart, which is only a vehicle. But they are empty. Your thinking leads nowhere. Your heart remains at the point of lust, and never gets to know love.

Search for your being and everything else will follow it on its own accord. You don't have to drop anything -- you cannot drop anything. They are your innermost qualities; they will radiate on their own. Your heart will be full of love; your mind will be full of intelligence.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

You will have to confront your shadow............

There is an ancient Buddhist story. On the day of Buddha's birth, in the same village, a girl was also born. She grew up with Buddha -- she was the same age, had similar life experiences, but she was deeply afraid of him. She avoided the roads that he frequented, and if she suddenly saw him on the road she would run away. Then Buddha renounced the world and left everything. She became even more afraid of him. Even before he became a bhikshu her fear of him was great; now she was terrified.

Then one day she happened to be returning from the market at dusk. There was no likelihood of meeting Buddha on that road, and he was not even in her thoughts, but suddenly he was there. Not until she was very close to him did she realize who it was, for she had never taken a good look at him -- it is not possible when there is fear. Then there she was, right in front of him. For the first time she looked at Buddha, and all her fear disappeared, and she was transformed.

Zen masters have always been asking seekers who that woman was. That woman is your shadow. She is not only born with Buddha, she is also born when you are born. Hindus call her maya, illusion. You and your maya never come face to face with each other. Neither does your maya ever take a good look at you nor do you ever look deeply at her. So the game goes on.

If in that game you do come face to face with each other, it is not you who will melt away but the maya. It is only the shadow that disappears, not you. Hence the shadow is in fear, it runs away from wherever you are. Even if it follows you, it is only from the back, it never comes in front of you.
 
What we at present call life is no more than a shadow; there is no truth to be found in it at all. But when you come close to a buddha, to one who has attained buddhahood, you will have to confront your shadow. You will have to look deeply at your maya, the illusions; you will have to come face to face with your dreams. The day you look at your dreams rightly, your sleep will be over. You will avoid -- you will avoid even blessings. Our habit of being miserable has gone so deep that we find ourselves unable to bear ecstasy even if it is coming to us on its own accord.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

Wherever there are green leaves there must be some dead leaves too.....

In the forest there is no order, no measurement, no symmetry; there are no straight lines and no proportions, and the trees grow as and where they will. The philosopher clears the ground and then designs his garden, in which there is symmetry and proportion, there is order in everything, the pathways are with roads geometrically built and trees planted at equal distance from each other.

In Japan there are Zen monasteries, and there they use no symmetry in anything. If paths have to be made, they are kept nongeometric, as if they are paths in a forest. If they plant trees it is done in a manner so it does not look like a garden but like a forest.
 
There was a very famous Zen master who was an expert in gardening. The emperor appointed the master to teach his son gardening. Every day the son would go to the Master to learn from him. The emperor had hundreds of gardeners, and whatever the prince learned from his master he would pass on to these gardeners, and they would make the garden accordingly. The master had said to the prince that after three years he would come to see his garden, and this would be the examination; there would be no other examination.

For three years the prince went on creating a beautiful garden, so beautiful that it had no parallel in the whole of Japan. Thousands of gardeners were engaged, and by the time three years had passed the garden was so exquisite that even the emperor was amazed, and he said to the son, "Such a garden has never been seen. There is no way you can be failed in the examination."

But the prince himself was less sure. "My master is a totally different kind of man," he said. "He is so unpredictable!"

Finally the master came. The emperor was present, all the court attended, and the prince of course was there. The garden glowed like a garden in paradise. But the master's face remained serious, without the trace of a smile. The emperor felt uneasy, and the prince was trembling in fear. The master visited every corner of the garden, but so far there was not a flicker of admiration visible on his face. Suddenly he asked for a basket.

The basket was brought, and the master ran out with it. He came back with the basket full of dry leaves and threw them on the garden pathway where they were further scattered all over by the wind.

The master said, "Your garden speaks so much of human interference that it cannot be called a true garden. There was not even a single dead leaf to be found anywhere. This is false and unnatural. You will have to work for three more years.

Wherever there are green leaves there must be some dead leaves too. Wherever there is birth there is death. Wherever there is light there is darkness. No, I do not accept this garden. For three years now you must work to turn it into a jungle. No human touch should be visible, because the human touch means logic, mathematics, calculation. The garden must bear the impression of the divine, where there is no logic, no mathematics, no calculation -- where all is beyond understanding."

[Ramesh Ramnani]

The one who is able to see what is wrong, is also able to see what is right....Part-I

There is an ancient Sufi story of a man who lived in the capital city of an empire and was known to the emperor. Whatever this man did would go wrong, and everything he undertook was to his loss; misfortune seemed to follow him wherever he went. Out of great curiosity the emperor consulted a fakir. "I have studied this man continuously," he told the fakir, "and there has not been a single hour of good fortune in his life. Is it predestined that he will meet only unhappiness in his life?"

The fakir said, "Ages old is this habit of his of enjoying unhappiness.

He has perfected this through the effort of many lives."

This did not appeal to the emperor. He said, "I don't agree. I think that the reason this fellow's life is the way it is, is because he never found the right situation, the right company, the right milieu.

The fakir said, "Let us then experiment and see."

So one day the emperor arranged for a large pot of gold coins and precious jewels to be left on the road on which this man used to pass every evening. The place he chose to leave the pot of treasure was on a bridge over a river, and the public and the guards were alerted to make sure that no one but this man should be allowed to touch the pot or its contents. Only this man of ill fortune was to be allowed to pick up the treasure and take it away with him. He was to be regarded as the owner of the precious pot.

What happened was very strange! The fakir and the emperor both stood at the other end of the bridge to watch. They saw the man approaching, and the emperor's heart was beating fast -- a matter of great principle was about to be resolved concerning man's nature and destiny. The emperor thought that anything can be achieved by man's effort and now for this man nothing much needs to be done. All that was needed was that the man pick up the pot full of immense treasures which was right in the middle of his path, carry it away -- no one is going to object to him -- and become super rich.

But as the man came closer, the emperor was astonished because the poor man was walking with closed eyes. He bumped into the pot, which fell over spilling some of the treasure out with a jingling noise. But the man avoiding the object he had bumped into, and kept walking steadily across the bridge with eyes still closed. As the man reached the other end of the bridge, the emperor, unable to restrain himself anymore, caught hold of the man and shouted at him, "You fool! Why have you got your eyes closed?"

Contd...

[Ramesh Ramnani]

The one who is able to see what is wrong, is also able to see what is right....Part-II

The man replied, "All my life I have walked across this bridge with my eyes open, and today I suddenly decided to see whether I could walk across it with my eyes closed -- and I can! There was only one moment when I bumped into something, but otherwise it was easy. Now I know that it would be alright even if I were to go blind!"

The fakir said, "Look! Even if a buddha stands in your path, you may bump into him but you will pass him by. Then you will boast that you could even have walked past him. That will certainly be the day you have taken some stupid decision like this: I want to see if I can pass by this place with my eyes closed."

This is why I say that to miss is very easy. The opportunity is rare, and to miss it is very easy. These are two apparently opposite extremes, but if you understand them in the right perspective, the situation reverses; then to miss the opportunity is not so easy and to meet buddhahood is not so difficult.

If you can understand the two things rightly, perhaps you may come across buddhas every day on the way. And if you meet a buddha even once, you will enter the door right away -- there is no reason for such a person to miss it.
 
I am taking you into all these experiments with meditation so that it becomes possible for you to recognize the buddha when the meeting happens; so that you do not turn your back on the door when it opens; so that you won't miss even if the door opens only for a single moment. Meditation will help you to recognize the master. Now this is a puzzle, because normally we approach the master in order to learn meditation. But I am telling you, without meditation you will never be able to recognize the master. Where will you look? Only meditation will make you capable of seeing the master. If you go to recognize the master through your thinking, you will miss.

Many people come to me, and I can clearly see that they are so full of their thoughts that no contact is possible between us; it is as if we are at thousands of miles distance. They have so many thoughts, and they weigh me only on the scales of their thoughts, they try to understand me only through thoughts, and they believe only in what their thoughts say to them.

You have never given a thought to how surrendered you are to your thoughts -- thoughts which have never delivered you anything else except misery.

You never doubt your thoughts. People come to me and tell me that they are skeptics or rationalists, that they cannot trust; and I see the extremity of their trust in their own head -- this they never doubt! They have such profound faith in this head of theirs, the head which has never brought them a single drop of happiness, this head where no flowers have ever blossomed, only thorns. And they say they have no place for faith, that they doubt everything, that they think, and that they will not take any decision without thinking about it.

Contd...

[Ramesh Ramnani]

The one who is able to see what is wrong, is also able to see what is right....Concluding Part.

How have you come to this decision that what your head tells you is right? This decision you have certainly taken without any thinking, because anybody who has really thought has first of all abandoned faith in his head. The experience of life -- of countless numbers of lives -- tells you that this head has only made you wander.

Here I am, holding the door wide open, but if you are too full of thoughts you are going to miss. Your head is full of so many layers of thoughts that even the open door will appear to you as closed. After all you will depend on your intellect in order to understand and the falsity will come in; you are bound to devise one trick or the other.

You will understand buddhahood only when you stop thinking -- and that state of nonthinking is meditation. Only in the moment of meditation will the master be recognized; not through thinking, not through logic or calculations, but only by sitting silently, in peace, will he be recognized.

Hence the old tradition of keeping silent for the first three or four years of being with a master. No questioning, no attention paid to the mind's frantic activity, keeping it still, just sitting in silence, waiting. It takes three to four years like this before the ages-old wavering of the mind subsides. When the inner turmoil stops, when the mind's race ceases, when the inner marketplace closes down as if for the night, then all goes quiet. This process we have called satsang.

Satsang means going to someone and sitting there with him in silence. And the interesting point about this is that the big question is not whether the man with whom you sit is the right man or a wrong one; sitting silently with him will help you anyway. If he is wrong, you will come to see that he is wrong and you will be free of him. If he is right, you will come to see that he is right and you will enter into him.

Meditation opens the eyes, so there is no need to worry about whether the man with whom you are sitting in silence is right or wrong. It is irrelevant whether he is right or wrong; your sitting in silence is right.

See it this way: if even near the right man you go on thinking, you will miss. It is the thinking that makes you miss. If you sit in silence even near a wrong man, you will attain, because thoughtlessness opens the eyes. You will be able to see that this man is wrong.

And remember, the one who is able to see what is wrong, is also able to see what is right. So even from sitting silently with a false master you will not come away emptyhanded. But remain bound up in your thoughts, and even from the true master you will return unfulfilled. Your thoughts are your prisons. No matter how hard I might work on your thoughts, it is not going to make much difference -- you will go on deriving your meanings, imposing your definitions.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

Whenever a saint wakes up, that is sunrise

There was in India a great sage, Eknath -- not of the ordinary run, unique. He used to sleep in the temple made for Shiva. And the king had gone to visit him. The king was sent to him by his own master -- because he was too argumentative, too rational, too much in the mind, and the master was tired. And finally he said, "If anything is going to happen to you in this life it can happen only through Eknath. You go to Eknath."

The king agreed, out of curiosity, but he was suspicious, "If my own master cannot make me a convinced seeker of truth, who is this guy Eknath? I have never heard about him. What is he is going to do to me?" But it was worth it. He went early in the morning -- it must have been nine o'clock. Hindu brahmins wake up at five o'clock in the morning or even earlier, but not later than that; and the saints, the holy ones, get up near about three in the morning.

Eknath was fast asleep at nine o'clock. The king was shocked. What kind of saint is he? And this was not all; when he went closer he said, "My God, is this a saint or a devil?" -- because he was putting his feet on the statue of Shiva, just as a footrest.

He said, "My master must have gone mad to send me to this man. Although I am not convinced of the existence of God, even I cannot touch the statue of God with my feet. I am afraid.... Who knows? After all, God may exist. Why take unnecessary trouble upon yourself? But this man is something!"

And when Eknath woke up the king said, "I have been sent by my master."

Eknath laughed and he said, "While I am alive there is nobody else who is a master." This was very insulting to the king.

He said, "You seem to be an insane person. In the first place you are sleeping up to nine, in the temple, resting your feet on the statue of Shiva, and now you are saying that there can be nobody else master while you are alive."

He said, "Yes. Tell that to your master; otherwise why has he sent you to me? These are just pygmy teachers pretending to be masters, and as far as my sleeping up to nine and my feet on the statue of Shiva, remember one thing: wherever I put my feet there is God, so what does it matter? God is everywhere, so why not find a comfortable place? And my waking up at nine -- remember, any people who say that saints wake up before sunrise are just mediocre minds. I say to you that whenever the saint wakes up, that is sunrise."

Strange statements, but very true -- true in depth, true in intensity. Whenever a saint wakes up, that is sunrise; his waking is far more important than your ordinary sun rising up every day -- a mechanical phenomenon.

My waking is not a mechanical phenomenon, and I am a free man -- I will wake up when I want to, and I will go to sleep when I want to. I act according to my consciousness, my awareness. I don't follow any discipline. I don't have any rules for my life. My life is my only discipline. Therefore I say unto you that whenever you become a True BABA SAI's Devotee that will be the right moment.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

You have not known life as such; you are simply vegetating, from cradle to grave, just dragging yourself somehow."

A frog from the ocean was on a religious pilgrimage. On the way he came near a well -- he was feeling thirsty. He looked inside the well; there was another frog inside. He said, "I am very thirsty, can I come in?"

He was allowed. The frog in the well asked the stranger, "From where are you coming?"
 
The stranger said, "It will be very difficult for you to conceive from where I am coming."

The frog of the well laughed, and he said, "You have some nerve. Is your place bigger than this well?" He hopped across one third of the well and he said, "Is your place this much?"

The frog from the ocean was in immense difficulty -- what to say to this poor frog? He said, "No, it is bigger."

He jumped two thirds and said, "This much?" The frog from the ocean said, "Forgive me, it is very big."

The frog of the well jumped across the whole well, from one side to the other side, and he said, "What do you say now? Is it still bigger?" The stranger said, "I am sorry to offend you, but your well cannot be a means of measuring the place from where I am coming. It is too big."

And the frog who had never left his well laughed and said, "You seem to be mad! Just get out of here. I have seen many frogs, but I have never seen such a mad one. They come to the well -- and I am always happy to have a visitor, just to have news about the world. I have been so generous to you, and you are behaving so uncourteously."

The stranger said, "You just forgive me, perhaps I am mad. But I invite you to my place, because that is the only way you can be convinced. Unless you see the ocean, you cannot believe... and I can understand why you are annoyed with me and thinking that I am mad. I must look mad to you; I can think of myself in your place."
 
So the people you must be meeting, don't have energy as such. Or maybe they have their energy at the minimum, so when you start overflowing with energy, they start feeling afraid. And their saying to you that you are sometimes "too much" is a condemnation. They are annoyed with you; you have touched their weakest point.

They are living just as survival, and my people are making every effort to live at the maximum.

Why live at the minimum? When life gives you the opportunity to live at the maximum, then sing and dance with total abandon.

Still, I say to you: whatever you do, it is never "the feeling of being too much." That is simply not possible. Your well can become bigger and bigger and bigger, but still, it can never become the ocean. And unless you become oceanic, you don't know what it means to be too much.

But the problem is, the moment you become oceanic, you are no more -- only pure energy, vibrating all over the existence.

As long as you are, you are always falling short of your maximum.

At the maximum, you disappear.

Then it is only a pure dance of energy.

And the pure dance of energy brings all your potentialities to their fullest expression. Only then can you say the spring has come, because you are blossoming in every dimension of your being.

So don't be bothered by the people who say that your energy, your being, your feeling is too much. It is comparative. Just tell them, "You are poor, you are living at the survival level. You have not known love and you have not known dance and you have not known celebration. You have not known life as such; you are simply vegetating, from cradle to grave, just dragging yourself somehow."

[Ramesh Ramnani]

Everything is topsy-turvy!

I would like you to read to this beautiful story. It may help. The story is called 'The Animal School'.

The animals got together in the forest one day and decided to start a school.

There was a rabbit, a bird, a squirrel, a fish and an eel, and they formed a Board of Directors. The rabbit insisted that running be in the curriculum. The bird insisted that flying be in the curriculum. The fish insisted that swimming had to be in the curriculum, and the squirrel said that perpendicular tree-climbing was absolutely necessary to the curriculum. They put all of these things together and wrote a curriculum guide. Then they insisted that ALL of the animals take ALL of the subjects.

Although the rabbit was getting an A in running, perpendicular tree-climbing was a real problem for him. He kept falling over backwards. Pretty soon he got to be sort of brain-damaged and he could not run anymore. He found that instead of making an A in running he was making a C, and of course he always made an F in perpendicular climbing. The bird was really beautiful at flying, but when it came to burrowing in the ground he could not do so well. He kept breaking his beak and wings. Pretty soon he was making a C in flying as well as an F in burrowing, and he had a hell of a time with perpendicular tree-climbing.

The moral of the story is that the person who was valedictorian of the class was a mentally-retarded eel who did everything in a half-way fashion. But the educators were all happy because everybody was taking all of the subjects, and it was called a 'broad-based education'.

We laugh at this, but that's what it is. It is what you did. We really are trying to make everybody the same as everybody else, hence destroying everybody's potential for being himself.

Intelligence dies in imitating others. If you want to remain intelligent you will have to drop imitating.

Intelligence commits suicide in copying, in becoming a carbon copy. The moment you start thinking how to be like that person you are falling from your intelligence, you are becoming stupid. The moment you compare yourself with somebody else you are losing your natural potential. Now you will never be happy, and you will never be clean, clear, transparent. You will lose your clarity, you will lose your vision. You will have borrowed eyes; but how can you see through somebody else's eyes? You need your own eyes, you need your own legs to walk, your own heart to beat.

People are living a borrowed life, hence their life is paralyzed. This paralysis makes them look very stupid.

A totally new kind of education is needed in the world. The person who is born to be a poet is proving himself stupid in mathematics and the person who could have been a great mathematician is just cramming history and feeling lost. Everything is topsy-turvy because education is not according to your nature. It does not pay any respect to the individual, it forces everybody into a certain pattern.

Maybe by accident the pattern fits a few people but the majority is lost and the majority lives in misery.
 

[Ramesh Ramnani]

There is a prison in each of us all.....We are imprisoned in this small body.

Buddha returns home after a period of twelve years. He had run away when Rahul was only one day old. He was now 12 years old. His mother was naturally dlspleased with Buddha and had told many things against Buddha to Rahul. She had thus well prepared her son to quarrel with Buddha in case he came to their palace. When Buddha came, she told her son to ask that beggar -- his father -- what legacy he had left for his son. She further asked Rahul to say.

'You had given birth to a son, now give him provisions for his journey of life.'

It was a cruel joke. Without informing her Buddha had left her.

Her anger was certainly natural. Buddha asked Anand, 'Where is my begging bowl?' Hand over my begging bowl to Rahul and initiate him into Sannyas.' Hearing this Yashodhara began to weep. She said, 'Why are you doing this?' Buddha replied, 'I can give that Supreme Treasure to my son in legacy which I have achleved. I wish to give my son that Supreme Bliss which I have found.'

Rahul was initiated into Sannyas. A young boy of twelve became a Sannyasi. Buddha's father told hlm, 'You left home and now you are removing him too, he is the only star of our eyes. Who would be the master of this kingdom?' Buddha replied, 'I have brought with me knowledge of another great kingdom. This kingdom is very small, and it would be unfail to leave that kingdom for this small kingdom. I have come with the knowledge of that great kingdom and I make him the great monarch -- lmperial Monarch of that great kingdom.

Being very unhappy, the father asked Buddha to initiate them also. Buddha said, 'What can be more auspicious than this?' He initiated his father also. Then Yashodhara began to cry aloud, 'Why do you leave me alone here? Initiate me also.' Buddha said, 'What more good omen can there be than this?' Then the whole family was initiated.

An individual like Buddha gives birth to someone in some other Kingdom of life. So people like Buddha and Mahavira after the attainment of Supreme Knowledge, will not be willing to bring any Atma in the prison of a body.

There is a prison in each of us all. People living in prisons have no idea of the world outside, of fiowers, of the sun, of the moon and stars, of the open sky, and of birds fiying in the sky. They are born there.

Then a day comes when a prisoner, having climbed the wall of the prison, looks at the open sky, the moon and stars, the sun, birds etc. His wife tells him, 'Look, other people are producing children, will you not do so?' That man will reply, 'I do not wish to give birth to any child in this prison. I do not want my child to live in a prison. If I wish to give birth to a child, I shall produce him -- give him birth in the journey to the open sky, but who will umderstand this in jail? These prisoners will tell me, have you gone mad, return to our home. Our home means our jail, our cell.'

No matter how much that man may try to persuade those prisoners that the moon, the sun, flowers will be all there in the open, but it will be all in vain. They will understand nothing as they haven't seen the sun, the moon and flowers. They have seen nothing but darkness and chains. Just as we are asking now, they will also ask if any person, once having sat on the walls, can return and give birth to children? Or can only those persons who have never climbed the walls, give birth to children?

Our question is exactly like that. We do not know anything about this world, that thing, that great life which people like Buddha and Mahavira are seeing.

We are imprisoned in this small body, and we wander and toil for this prison throughout life. We consider this a great life, an important life and think of giving births to other Atmas. While Buddha and Mahavira are busy in sending the evil souls away from here, in liberating them.

There is a fundamental difference in our vision and their vision, in our dimension and their dimension. And therefore we do not understand them. An individual who has attained the highest knowledge cannot give birth to others. He cannot do so because he cannot take the responsibility of throwing someone in prison. He can give birth. He can give birth to a person in another, gigantic world, life of liberation, in that greatest freedom. But that birth is not the birth of a physical body, it is the birth of atma.

It is a birth that cannot be seen. It is the birth of the unseen; not of the known but of the unknown. Mahavira and Buddha have given many such births. Mahavira had around him 50 thousand Sannyasis. Is Mahavira anything less than a father to them? Buddha had thousands of Sannyasis. Is Buddha anything less than a father to them? In fact, he was much more than a father. What have their parents given to them in comparison to what he has given them? But only they can know what they got. We have our own difficulties, we know nothing, that is why we have such doubts -- questions. Therefore it will be proper if we also try to understand such questions fully.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

It is a long journey; there is no hurry!!!

There is a story in Buddha's life. The only son of a woman called Krisha Gautami died. Her husband had already died, and her son was everything to her. She was utterly attached to him, he was the very essence of her life. And then he too died. She was driven almost insane with grief, and began to wander from one house to another in her village, asking people to revive her son. Trying to console her, one villager said, "It is not in our power to do anything to help, but Buddha has arrived in the village; better you go to him. And any miracle may happen there he is Bhagwan, God, himself!"

So Krisha Gautami went and knelt at Buddha's feet, carrying her dead son. She put the corpse down at Buddha's feet and said, "Revive this child! I want nothing else. When Bhagwan himself is present in the village, why should I weep? And if you cannot do even this much, then you are not God as they say you are!"

Buddha's disciples were in suspense to see what would happen now. A great crowd had gathered, the whole village had gathered, and they all started waiting for the miracle.

Buddha said, "Gautami, you do one thing. Leave your son's dead body here -- I will certainly revive him -- but first you go look for a house in the village where nobody has ever died, and you bring me some mustard seeds from that house."

What will a drowning person not do? Even a blade of grass looks like a support to a drowning man. It did not cross Krisha Gautami's mind how she could find a house where nobody had ever died. In obsession, one gets blinded. She rushed, she knocked on each and every door in the village and asked, "I want a few mustard seeds, but the condition is nobody should have died ever in your house."

People said, "Gautami, have you gone mad? Where will you find a house where nobody has died? Wherever people are born, people die also. Birth and death are parts of one phenomenon."

But Gautami had no time to listen to this. She rushed on to the next house and the next. By the evening she had been to all the houses in the village. By the evening when she was leaving the last house, her tears had dried away. A revolution had taken place in her personality. She went to Buddha, lifted up her son's body and carried it to the graveyard.

After cremating the body she returned to Buddha and said, "Please initiate me. I am a sannyasin."

Buddha said, "Don't you have something to ask of me? What about the mustard seeds? What about the son?"

She said, "Let nothing more be said of this. It was my illusion to have forgotten that death is attached to birth. Now that I have remembered, there is no question concerning my son; the question now concerns Gautami. Before I die, I want to find out what this whole mystery is, this whole web all around us."

Death is certain, there is no way to escape it. But we try to keep death out of the town.

Insanity has gone too far in the West, because in the absence of the theory of reincarnation there is more fear of death there than here in the East. We have some consolation that never mind, at least the soul will not die. Though soul is not our own knowing, yet there is some consolation, so never mind. There is someone within us: nainam chhindanti shastrani, no weapon can destroy it, no fire can consume it -- at least we have read this in the Gita, and that brings consolation. At the time of death only the body will die, we shall remain. And then there are lives after lives, it is a long journey; there is no hurry as there is infinite time available.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

God is a thief.........Many more things are going to happen.

In India, hari is one of the names of god. It is one of the most beautiful names ever invented for god. It means the thief, one who steals people's hearts, mm? That is the meaning of it -- big thief. God is a thief, and you never know when he starts entering you, and when he takes possession of you. You know only when he has already stolen your heart.

Ordinarily we think that human beings choose god -- that is wrong. God first chooses you. Only when he chooses can you choose him, otherwise not.

The very desire to seek truth, the very desire to know what all this is, the very thirst to know god, shows that he has entered -- the thief has already entered. There are millions of people who don't have any desire; god is a meaningless term for them -- so meaningless that they are not even ready to deny it.

They don't bother either way whether god is or is not. It seems irrelevant to them. They are indifferent.

Then suddenly one day one arises in the morning, and a new thirst, a new longing, and a new hope is born... out of the unknown! Just the night before there was not even a hint, and the person had not been doing anything to earn it, and suddenly he is possessed.

That's why hindus call god the thief. He comes when you are fast asleep and steals your heart. He comes when you are engaged in the world and steals your heart. Only when he has chosen you, do vou start choosing him.

Hari means the thief, and devi means the divine; the divine thief. Remember it, and if the thief comes, help him, mm? (chuckling) because he is not the enemy -- he is your friend. And when he wants to steal your heart, surrender -- don't resist... don't fight with him.

The natural tendency is to fight. Because one does not want to surrender, one wants to remain oneself, and when god comes, you are simply effaced, wiped away. He is like a flood! So one becomes afraid... one starts trembling. God looks like death -- and people are very much afraid of death.

God is going to be your death, because when he comes, he wants to possess you so totally that he does not leave anything behind... he does not leave you at all. He absorbs you. He is a thief and he is a great spendthrift.

He gives himself so much that you are flooded, you are gone and wiped away. So remember this -- any day he will knock!

When you have come here, that means he has already knocked. Deep in your unconscious you have heard the knock, otherwise you would not be here. Nothing happens accidentally. If you are here, you may not be aware why you are here, how you have come, but something in your unconscious has grown. Your conscious may become aware later on, but a great journey has started -- you are a pilgrim. And I would like you to prepare.... Many more things are going to happen.

[Ramesh Ramnani]

Drop the bag that you are carrying~~~~Be a man of understanding and try it!!!

There is one story about Hotei, a Zen master. One day he was passing through a village. On his shoulders he always carried a very big bag full of many toys, chocolates and sweets for children.

Somebody asked him, "Hotei, we have heard that you are just playing a role, acting. We have heard that you are a Zen master, so why do you go on wasting your time just giving toys to children? And if you are really a Zen master then show us what Zen is." Zen means the real spirit of religion.

Hotei dropped his bag, immediately he dropped his bag. They couldn't follow, so they said, "What do you mean?"

He said, "This is all. If you drop the burden, this is all."

They asked, "Okay, then what is the next step?"

So he put his bag again on his shoulders and started walking.

"This is the next step. But now I am not carrying. I know now that the burden is not me. Now the whole burden has become just toys for children and they will enjoy it."

The second step is to drop the bag that you are carrying, and carry it again only when you are not carrying it. Then you can carry the whole world; then there is no problem -- you are not identified with it. The second step is to drop the bag. So be Hotei, and drop whatsoever you have been carrying so long. And it is just ugly, whatsoever you are carrying. Sadness, ugliness, hatred, suffering, anger, jealousy -- things like this you are carrying. And if you have become a big wound it is no surprise, it is what you are carrying. So in the second step you have to throw down whatsoever there is in it.

You will look mad, because madness is there. You have been suppressing it up to now. Your sanity is false, it is just on the surface, not even skin-deep. You can be made insane immediately.

Someone hits you and the sanity is gone, someone insults you and the sanity is gone. It is not even skin-deep, it is just there boiling. You are carrying yourself somehow. You are a miracle. How do you go on with so many madnesses within? How do you manage it? In the second step don't manage, just throw it out. Become mad, go mad.

Remember, when you become mad consciously you remain a witness. Madness is beautiful if you are conscious -- you enjoy it.

The more you throw it out the less burdened you are, and you feel that your energy is purified. You feel that now you can fly in the sky. Now there are no boundaries to you, you have become weightless. Now the whole gravitation of the earth cannot pull you down to the earth, you have become greater. You can transcend this pull now; this pull works because you carry so much burden. The second step is to go mad consciously. Those who are intelligent will go mad consciously, those who are stupid will go on holding. So don't be stupid; be a man of understanding and try it.