Osho - Dimensions
Beyond the Known
Chapter 2
Question 1
You said that if one were talking about the
body you would say that the body was death-oriented and if one were talking
about the soul you would say, "You were never born at all."
Buddha has said of the soul, "It was just
a bubble which is now no more. I myself am not there, so where will I go?"
Then what is it that is immortal and who is
unborn?
There is a sea over which waves
come and go, but the sea remains the same. The waves are not separate from the
sea, but the waves are not the sea. Waves are only forms born on the sea, just
appearances which take form and die. A wave that remains a wave forever cannot
be called a wave.
The word "wave" means
it dies as soon as it is born. That from which the wave arises is always there,
but that which arises is not. This is a dance of the transitory on the breast
of the eternal. The sea is unborn; the wave is taking birth. The sea never
dies; the wave always dies. The moment the wave knows that it is the sea, it
goes beyond the chain of life and death. But as long as the wave believes that
it is a wave it is within the possibility of birth and death.
That which is, is unborn and
deathless. From where will birth come? Nothing is born out of the void. Where
will death happen? Nothing is lost in the void. That which is, is eternal. Time
makes no difference to it; time does not affect it. This existence is not
within our grasp because our senses can only comprehend form and shape. Our
senses cannot comprehend that which is beyond name and form.
It is interesting to note that
you must have stood on the shore of the sea very often and upon returning would
have said that you have seen the sea. But you have only seen the waves, not the
sea. The sea cannot be seen. What you can see are the waves. Senses can see
only what appears
on the surface. That which is
within remains beyond their comprehension. The senses see the superficial form;
the formless within eludes their grasp.
The world of name and form is
born only because of the senses. It is not existence. Whatsoever has a name and
form is born and will die and that which is beyond name and form is eternal.
Neither is it born, nor will it die. So when Buddha says that he was born as a
bubble, he is referring to two aspects of a bubble. What does the bubble
contain? If we enter into a bubble, we will find that a very small amount of
the same infinite all-pervasive air that is outside is enclosed within a thin
film of water. This thin film has imprisoned a small portion of air, and that
small part of air has become the bubble.
Naturally, like everything, the
bubble also expands. Upon expanding, it breaks and bursts. Then the air that
was within the bubble unites with the outer air and the water with water. But
that which came into existence meanwhile was a rainbow existence. Nothing ever
changed in the air or the water; they remain as they are. But meanwhile, a form
was born which died.
If we look upon ourselves as
bubbles, then we also are forms that take birth and die. What is within us was
always, but we identify ourselves with the bubble. So if I am looking at you
from the point of view of the body, I will say that you are death-oriented and
slowly dying. From the moment you were born you began dying, and you have not
been doing anything else except dying. The bubble may take seven moments to
burst, but you take about seventy years to burst.
In the endless flow of time,
there is no difference between seven moments and seventy years. All difference
is due to our narrow vision. If time is endless with no beginning and no end,
then what is the difference between seven moments and seventy years? If time is
a determined quantity, say a hundred years, then seven moments will be very
small and seventy years will be quite a long span.
But if there is no limit on
either end, if there is neither a beginning nor an end, then there is no
difference between seven moments and seventy years. In how many moments the
bubble bursts is of no consequence.
No sooner is it born when it
starts bursting. That is why I described the body as death-oriented. By body I
mean that which manifests through birth with a name and form. By soul I mean
that which remains even after that name and form are lost. When there was no
such name and form, then also it was. By the soul I mean the sea and by the
body I mean the wave. It is necessary to understand these things clearly.
That which is within us never
dies, so inwardly we feel that "I will never die." We see that
hundreds of thousands of people are dying but still we are not convinced that
we will also die. In our deepest depths there is no echo that "I too will
die." People die before our very eyes and still that inner feeling of
immortality remains. In deeper moments we are always aware that "I will
die." We know that the facts show the fallaciousness of this belief and
that outer events indicate that it is not possible that "I will not
die." Reason says that if everything else has to die, then you will also
die. But some voice within severs all links with reason and goes on saying,
"I will not die."
That is why we do not believe
that we will ever die. That is why we are able to live in the midst of death;
otherwise, as we are surrounded by death constantly, we would die instantly.
Why are we so confident and certain of living? That confidence is due to that
something within that goes on telling
us that we will not die,
regardless of how much we may say, or the occurrence of an actual death may
say, that we will die.
No person can ever conceive of
his own death. He cannot imagine that he will die. However much he may try to
imagine that he is dying, he will find himself still there. Even if he imagines
himself dead, he will find that he is there seeing, that he is there standing
outside of death. We are not able to place ourselves within the jaws of death
even in imagination, because while imagining we go on watching from the
outside. The one who imagines stands outside, so he will not be able to die.
This voice from within is the
voice of the sea. It asks us, "Where is death?" Death is unknown;
still we are afraid of death. This fear comes from the voice of the body, and
there is a confusion between the two. The moment we identify ourselves with the
voice of the body, our spirits begin to tremble over the fact that the body is
bound to die. No matter how much we may try to disprove this or seek the help
of science or devise a system of medicine or surround ourselves with eminent
physicians and medicines, the body does not for a single moment confirm that
"I will live." The body does not have that feeling of deathlessness;
it knows that daily it is dying.
The body knows that it is a
bubble, but we know that we are not bubbles. The moment one identifies oneself
with the bubble, all the tensions of one's life begin. No sooner does that
within us which is immortal identify itself with the wave when it comes into
difficulties. This identification is ignorance; breaking away from this
identification is knowledge. Nothing changes; everything remains the same as
before. The body remains where it was; the soul also remains where it was. Only
the illusion disappears. Then we know that when the body will die we have not
to be afraid, because there is no need to be afraid. The body is bound to die.
It is useful to be afraid when there is a possibility of being saved. But in a
situation from which there is no possibility of being saved, it is useless to
become afraid.
When a soldier marches forward
to the battlefield, when he first leaves his house, he is filled with fear. On
the battlefield too he is fearful. But when the bombs begin showering upon him
he becomes fearless, because then all possibilities of being saved are
destroyed. Such a person can even play cards amidst continuous shellfire. And
he is an ordinary man; there is nothing special about him.
But this is a unique situation.
In this situation, fear of death is meaningless. Death is so imminent that
there is no question of survival.
On the battlefield, there is
some possibility of survival because some die while others survive, and so some
fear remains. But on the field of death even that remote possibility is not
there. At the moment of death the illusion that "I am the body"
suddenly disappears. The fear of death disappears because there is no escape.
Then the fact of the body dying becomes a certainty, a destiny. That is the
fate of the body; there is no way of saving it.
The moment one realizes that
death is the nature of the body, it suddenly becomes apparent that what is
beyond the body was never born and so there is no question of its death. Thus,
for the soul also, fear vanishes, because there is no reason to be afraid for
that which cannot die. The fear arises due to the body and soul becoming
identified with each other. It arises because the inner voice says, "I
will not die," and the outer voice says, "You will certainly
die!" These voices become confused. We are not aware that these two
different melodies intermingle, and we listen to them as if they were the
melodies of the same instrument. That is the mistake.
In our ignorance there is
always a fear of death, but we go on living as if there were no death.
Every moment the ignorant
person lives as if there were no death though he is frightened of it. The one
who knows also lives as if there were no death, but he is aware that death can
happen at any moment. He lives at two different levels. Life for him has split
into two parts: the circumference has become separate from the center; the wave
has become separate from the sea; the form has become separate from the
formless. However, one cannot run away from death. It is a matter of wonder
that a thing does not by itself cease to appear by our knowing that it is an
illusion. By our knowing, only the consequent pain ceases.
Shankaracharya was always
giving the example of a rope that appears like a snake in darkness.
But this example is inaccurate
because by coming near you can know that it is a rope. And once you know that
it is a rope, however far from it you may go, it will not look like a snake.
But the illusion of life is not
like that. The illusion of life is like a stick that is dipped in water. In the
water it will appear bent, but when you remove it from the water, it is
straight. If you put it back in the water, it will again look bent. Then if you
put your hands in the water you find that the stick is straight, but still it
appears bent. Just by your knowing that it is straight, the slanted appearance
of the stick does not disappear. But by your knowing, you no longer behave as
if in the illusion that it is bent.
Our illusion of life is not
like that of a rope looking like a snake, but like that of a straight stick
appearing bent in the water. We know full well that the stick is not bent, but
only appears so. The stick even appears bent to the greatest of scientists who
have experimented and who know that by dipping the stick in water it does not
become bent. Thus, this appearance of crookedness is due to our senses. Our
knowledge has nothing to do with it.
The difference, therefore, is
this: that you will not believe that the stick is bent, but it only appears to
be bent. The matter is divided into two different levels. On the level of
knowing, the stick is straight.
On the level of seeing, it is
bent. There is no illusion on either of these levels.
On the level of living there is
the body which is the outer and on the level of existence there is the atman -
the soul. For the knower, the world is not lost. For him the world is just the
same as it is for you. Probably, to him the world is clearer in its perspective
and appearance. Every tiny cell of the existence is clearer to him. Nothing is
lost for him, and he is not in any illusion. He knows that form is born out of
the senses and is like the stick which appears bent in water. Because the rays
of light bend and change while entering the water, the stick also appears bent.
In air, rays of light do not bend, so the stick appears straight. The stick
does not bend, but the rays of light bend while passing through water. Therefore,
we see the stick as crooked.
The existence is as it is, but
while passing through our senses the ray of knowledge becomes bent.
The ray of knowledge changes
due to the medium through which things are known. If I wear blue spectacles,
everything will look blue. When I remove them, I see that everything is white.
If I put the spectacles on again, I again see everything as blue. I know that
things appear blue due to the spectacles, so I will not be in illusion anymore.
But I may continue putting on the specs and things will continue to appear
blue. However, though I will know full well that the soul - the being - is
immortal, the knowledge that the body is death-oriented also continues.
In spite of my knowing that the
existence of the sea is eternal, the play of the waves continues.
But now I know that it has
appeared so due to the spectacles. The spectacles are the eyes of the senses,
and what you see through them is not necessarily real.
That is why the statements of
people like Buddha, Mahavira or Jesus are made from two different planes - one
of the soul and the other of the body. Our difficulty is that as we are
confusing both the planes within ourselves, then naturally we also confuse
their statements. Sometimes Buddha speaks as if he were the body. He says,
"Ananda, I am thirsty. Please bring me water." The soul is never
thirsty. It is the body that feels thirsty. Now Ananda may think that the body
is not there at all, that it is only a name and form, just a bubble, "so
how can it become thirsty?" Once you have known that there is no body,
then from where does thirst come?
Then the next day, when Buddha
says, "I am not born at all so I will never die," it creates
difficulties for the listener. The listener's difficulty is that he thinks that
with knowledge the existence will change.
Actually, by knowing the
existence does not change; only one's gestalt changes. When Buddha says that he
is thirsty, he only says that his body is thirsty - that this body, which is a
bubble of name and form, is thirsty, and if it is not given water it will soon
burst. But the listener's difficulty is that because he is living in a confused
state, he is not able to distinguish which statement is coming from which
plane, so he confuses their meanings also.
Simone Weil has written a book
called grades of significance. The
greater the man, the more he lives on different levels of greatness at one
time. He has to live like that because he has to talk from the levels of the
people he meets. Otherwise, all talk becomes meaningless. If Buddha talks with
you from his highest level, it will be useless. You will take him to be mad. It
has generally happened that these types of people have been taken as mad. The
reason for that is that whatever they said looked as if it were told by a mad person.
Thus, if they speak from their level, they will be branded as mad.
If they have to speak from your
level, they will have to come down. They will have to come down to a level
where you can understand them. Then they will not appear mad. Thus, they will
have to talk from as many levels as exist among the people that come to them.
One can say that the many
people to whom Buddha spoke would come to him in the form of mirrors.
All these mirrors created their
own separate images of Buddha, and the images were as faithful as the surfaces
of the mirrors themselves. An image must match with the mirror. Thus, a convex
mirror will broaden the image while a concave mirror will shorten it. If this
were not so, the mirrors would be displeased, and then the mirrors would have
to be broken or changed.
That is why the statements of
people like Buddha come across on many different levels. Sometimes in only one
statement there will be several levels. This is because when a person like
Buddha begins to speak he does so from his own level and when he stops speaking
he has come down to the level where you are. Many times in only one sentence
there is a long journey - because when he begins to speak it is from the level
where he is at. He begins with great expectations about you; then slowly he has
to bring down his expectations, and in his last statements he reaches where you
are.
His level and your level
represent two deep divisions, but this does not mean that these two are very
distant or separate or different. They are like that of the sea and the wave.
The sea can sometimes
be without a wave, but the wave
can never be without the sea. The formless can be without a form, but a form
can never be without the formless.
But if we look at our language,
it is interesting to see that it is the reverse. In our language, in the word
nirakar, formless, there is the word sakar, form. But formless is not in the
word form. In language, in the word formless, the word form will have to be
there; but it will do if the word form does not include the formless. Language
is created by us, but in existence the situation is the reverse. In existence
there can be the formless without the form, but there can be no form without
the formless.
All our words are like that. In
the word ahimsa, non-violence, the word himsa, violence, is necessary.
But in the word violence,
non-violence is not needed. In life, however, it is interesting to note that in
order for violence to exist, non-violence is necessary; it is unavoidable. But
non-violence can be there without violence. We create language and we create it
according to our needs. For us the world can be without God, but how can God be
without a world?
These are not two different
things. Therefore, the macrocosmic can exist without the microcosmic; there is
no difficulty for the sea to exist without the wave. But how can the wave be
without the sea?
The wave is very small, and it
is dependent for its very being upon the sea. If the surrounding sea raises it,
it is there. The sea takes care of it from all the sides. If the sea releases
it, it is gone.
These two are not separate, but
I have to say that they are separate so that the wave will not be under the
illusion that it is immortal, formless and eternal. If the wave thinks itself
separate, then there is the possibility for this illusion and its consequences.
But if the wave is one with the sea, there is no illusion. If the experience is
that of oneness, then it will say, "I am not there at all; there is only
the sea." In this way, Jesus was repeatedly saying, "I am not there;
only my father in heaven is."
So we are in a difficulty.
Either we want to be shown God in heaven so we can find out who he is and where
he is, or we will call Jesus mad because we do not understand what he was
saying. Jesus was saying, "I am the sea, not the wave," but we have
not seen anything else but the wave. Sea is only a word for us. That which is
the authentic existence is just a word for us, but what is only an appearance
we take to be truth.
The soul is not known to us,
but the body is daily seen by us. What is daily seen becomes truth for us. That
is why I have said that the body is death-oriented and is itself a death. The
soul is immortal, not death-oriented. But upon its deathlessness there is the
dance of death of the body.
We have no difficulty in
understanding the sea and the wave because we have not seen any enmity between
them. But immortality and death are difficult to understand because we have
assumed them to be enemies; that is our belief. When I talk about the sea and
the wave, their existences are closely linked, so there does not seem to be any
opposition. But immortality and death appear as stark enemies - as opposites.
It seems they can never be one. But they are also one. The more closely and
deeply you know death, the more you will find that death is nothing more than
change.
The wave is also a change. The
deeper you search into immortality, the more you will find it is nothing more than
eternity. The existence of whatsoever appears to be in opposition in this world
is based upon its opposite. Our difficulty is that it appears to us as
opposite. We maintain a separation between death and immortality - but death
cannot survive without the deathless. For death to exist,
it has to seek the support of
that which is deathless. As long as death is there, it needs the support of
that which is immortal.
Even for a lie to exist, it can
do so only with the support of truth. For a lie to exist, it also has to claim
that it is truth. Truth never claims to be truth, but the lie always claims
that it is truth. It cannot travel an inch without such a claim. It has to
vociferously announce, "Be careful; I am coming. I am truth."
It carries many certificates
with it to prove why it is truth.
Truth needs no certificate; it
needs no support from lies. If truth takes their support, it will be in
difficulty. If the lie does not take the support of truth, then the lie will be
in difficulty.
For immortality, the support of
death is not necessary, but it is only in relation to the concept of
immortality that the occurrence of death is understood. The pure existence has
no need for that which is changeable, but what is changing can be understood
only in relation to that which is changeless. One thing is certain, that we
understand only the changeable - because that is what we are. That is why,
whenever we think about immortality, we try to understand it only through that
which is changeable. There is no other way.
Our condition is like one who
is in darkness trying to guess what light is. He has no other way.
Darkness is only a very dim
form of light. It is a condition of the minimum possible light. Where there is
no light at all, there is no such thing as darkness. Light may be or it may be
beyond the power of our eyes to grasp it.
Our senses grasp things only
within certain limits. Otherwise, the beams of highly intense light that
constantly pass by us would make us instantly blind if we were to see them. As
long as we did not know what the x-ray was we did not know that the rays of the
x-ray could pass through a human body. We did not know that a picture of our
inside bones could be taken from outside. If not today, then tomorrow we may be
able to find a ray which can penetrate through the initial cell of a newly
conceived child in its mother's womb and enable us to see what will be the
entire lifespan of that child after its birth. And there is a possibility of
this happening.
Many types of rays pass by us,
but our eyes cannot catch them. What we are calling darkness is simply light
which our eyes are not capable of seeing. Because our eyes cannot see certain
light rays, for us they appear to be nothing more than darkness. What we call
darkness is just that light which our eyes cannot see. Therefore, any
inferences a person standing in darkness makes about light are likely to be
wrong, as darkness is only a form, a shade of light. Although death is only a
change in the form of immortality, any inferences drawn about immortality from
one viewing death would also be wrong. If we know what immortality is, only
then does something happen; otherwise not.
People surrounded by death only
understand immortality to mean that we will not die. But they are wrong. One
who knows what immortality is knows that he was never there at all. The
difference is very deep and fundamental. A person seeing death thinks that if
it is true that the soul is immortal he will not die. His thinking is
future-oriented. He is living in the future and is worried about it, so his
understanding will be future-oriented. But one who knows what immortality is
would say, " I am not there at all; I was never born." He will be
past-oriented.
Because all scientific
knowledge is surrounded by death, science always talks about the future. And
since the whole of religion is surrounded by immortality, it always talks about
the past - about the origin, not about the end. It is concerned with the basic
source. Religion talks about from where the world has come, from where we have
come. Religion says that if we know completely from where we have come - our
source and our beginning - we will not be worried about where we will go,
because we cannot go anywhere but back toward that source. Our origin is our
destiny, our search, our end.
Religious thinking is concerned
with the search for the origin - with what is the origin. From where has this
world come? From where has this existence, this soul, this world, come?
Religious thinking is in search for the past, for our origins. All sciences are
in a future-oriented search - for where we are going, where we will reach, what
we will become, what will happen tomorrow, what the end is.
The search of science is
conducted by those who are death-oriented. Religious thinking is done by those
for whom death has ceased to have any meaning.
It is interesting to note that
death is always in the future. Death has nothing to do with the past.
Whenever you are thinking about
death, the past is of no consequence, of no importance. Death lies in the
tomorrow, but the source from where life has come is always in yesterday. From
where life is coming, from where the Ganges is flowing, is the source, Gangotri.
But where the Ganges will empty itself is the sea. It began in the yesterday
and will end in the tomorrow.
Thus a person surrounded by
death will always draw conclusions that are colored by death. What is factual
about a higher plane can only be guesswork on the part of the lower plane. The
facts of the second plane should be evaluated by the experiences of the second
plane only. It is, therefore, interesting to note that one who knows the second
plane naturally knows the first plane too, but one who knows the first does not
necessarily know the second. That is why, if we have described Buddha, Krishna
and Christ as highly intelligent and wise, it is due to a special reason: they
know all the planes; we know only one. That is why what they say is more
meaningful. And whatsoever we know, they surely know. There is no difficulty in
this. They have known death; they have also known misery, anger and violence.
Theirs is the experience of all the planes.
In Western countries all
knowledge is just accumulation on the same plane. Whatever Einstein might have
been knowing, the difference between his knowledge and ours is merely
quantitative.
For example, we can only
measure this table, but he can measure the whole world. This difference is of
quantity or of degree. There is no qualitative difference. This means that he
does not know something which is different from what you may know, but what he
knows is just an extension in quantity of what may be known to you. You may
know less, he knows more. You have only one dollar, he may have a million. But
your dollar and his million are not qualitatively different. What he has is not
different from what you have.
When we call Buddha or Mahavira
gyanis, knowers, what we mean is different. It is possible that on our plane we
may know more than they know, but our calling them gyanis means that they know
something of another plane about which we do not know anything. They have gone
into a new dimension which has a qualitative difference.
If Mahavira and Einstein should
encounter each other, it may even happen that Mahavira will not prove to be a
knower of things that are known to Einstein. He may not have as much
accumulation
of knowledge as Einstein.
Mahavira may say, "I can only measure a table; you are able to measure the
whole earth. You can even tell the distance of the moon and the stars from the
earth; I cannot do that. If I can measure this room even, it is enough for me.
But still, I would say that you are not more learned or knowledgeable than me
because you only know that which is ordinarily plausible."
If a room can be measured, the
stars can also be measured. There is no transcendence in doing so. Within
Einstein there is no mutation or change; he is not a different man. He remains
the same person, though he is more efficient where we are inefficient. It is
only that he has a much greater speed on the same plane, while we are very
slow. Einstein has traveled far on the same plane where we have traveled very
little. Einstein went deep where others only touched the periphery, but
Einstein has not moved into another plane.
When we call Buddha or Mahavira
or others of their category knowers, we mean that they have gone beyond the
plane of death to where they have known immortality, and what they tell us
about this is invaluable. We may understand it this way: if a person who has
never drunk any alcohol makes a statement about it, the statement has no value.
If a person who has drunk alcohol makes a statement about it, then also it has
no value. But the statements of a person who has drunk alcohol and who has gone
beyond it have value.
One who has not drunk alcohol
at all is a child. His statements will be childish. That is why people who have
never drunk any alcohol have not been able to understand those who drink. Those
who drink say, "We have known what you know, but now we know something
more." If you drink, then you can say something about it. But those who
have drunk themselves full and who have then left it have something more to
say. Alcoholics will listen to them.
In Europe and America, there
are societies of ex-alcoholics. Alcoholics Anonymous is a widespread
institution. Only those who have once been alcoholic can become members of this
institution, and this movement was started in order to enable other alcoholics
to give up drinking. What is surprising is that such associations of alcoholics
can make others who are alcoholics give up drinking very quickly, because what
such alcoholics say comes from their maturity. Their statements are understood
better by the drinkers because what they are telling is from experience. They
also have drunk and faltered and fallen flat repeatedly, and have passed
through all the experiences of the drunkard. That is why their statements,
which come out of experience, have a value.
But this I have told only by
way of an illustration. Whether you drink or do not drink or give up drinking,
there is no difference in the plane you are on. You are still on the same
plane. The difference is only that of different rungs on the same ladder. But
once you experience deathlessness, there is a change of plane. The great impact
of the teachings of Buddha, Mahavira and Christ is due to the fact that
although they knew that which we ordinarily know, they also knew something
beyond what we know. From the new knowledge that they had, they could say that
there were fundamental errors in our knowing.
Question 2
Osho, while discussing mahavira, you had
said that mahavira had achieved total self-realization in his previous birth
and that he took another birth out of compassion only in order to express and
tell to others what he had seen and known. Similarly, for Krishna also you said
that he was fully enlightened from his very birth.
Previously, when I had a discussion with
you in jabalpur, I had an intuition that what you had said about Mahavira and Krishna
is also applicable to you. Is it true then that you also took birth out of
compassion? In this context, would you kindly throw light on your previous
births and your achievements in them so that it may be useful to seekers?
Please also explain what was the time gap between your last birth and this one.
In this connection, many things
will have to be kept in mind. Firstly, in connection with the birth of people
like Krishna, it should be understood that when their attainment of
self-realization is completed in a particular life, it is entirely their
freedom to choose whether to take another birth or not. It is a fact that if
they take birth, that birth is taken with full freedom of choice.
No birth prior to attainment of
self-realization is taken out of freedom. One has no choice in other births.
Other births are due to the compulsions of our desires. It is as if we are
pushed into or pulled into a birth by our past actions and pulled forward by
our desires for the future. Thus, birth is ordinarily an event of helplessness.
Only in full consciousness is
there an opportunity for a choice - only when one has fully known the self.
That position is reached when nothing more remains to be known. Such a moment
comes when one can say that "there is no future for me because for me
there is no desire. There is nothing which will create any unhappiness for me
if I do not get it." This condition, where for the first time you have a
choice, happens when one has reached the highest peak.
It is a matter of great
interest and one of the deep mysteries of life that those who desire to be free
cannot be free and those who have no desire at all become free. Those who have
a desire to take birth at a particular place or in a particular family have no
choice but to do so. But those who have the freedom can take birth anywhere
they choose, if they so desire, even though they may not exercise their choice.
A freedom of choice is there for the taking of only one more birth - not
because there will not be any freedom to take still another birth, but because
after one more birth the desire to use such freedom is again lost.
Freedom remains forever. In
this life, if you attain the supreme experience, then you will have that
freedom. But what usually happens is that after attaining this freedom, the
desire for using it is not lost immediately. And this situation can be useful.
But those who have looked
deeply into the matter have felt that this is also a type of bondage.
This is why the Jainas, who
have searched deeply in this direction - more than any other religious endeavor
in this world - have described this bondage as the teerthanker gotrabandh, the
desire to be a teacher in order to lead others towards enlightenment. This is
the last bondage. It is a bondage with full freedom - the last, with only one
last desire of which to make use.
It is, however, a desire. That
is why there are many who have attained enlightenment, but all of them could
not become teerthankers. In order to be a teerthanker, in order to make use of
this freedom, it is necessary to have a chain of a particular type of past
actions. A long chain of desire to be a
teacher is necessary. If this
attachment for being a teacher survives, it will give the last push. Then
whatever is known will be told, whatever is experienced will be described, and
whatever is gained will be distributed.
After realization is attained,
it is not necessary that everyone should take another birth. In such a
situation, therefore, out of millions of self-realized persons, just one
chooses to take one more birth.
That is why the Jainas have
more or less fixed an average, that in a srishti-kalpa, one period of creation,
there can be only twenty-four teerthankers.
It works just like any other
average. For example, we say that today, on an average, so many accidents will
take place on Bombay roads. The records of accidents of the last thirty years
are taken into account, and an average is worked out. The forecast turns out to
be more or less correct.
Similarly, this happening of
twenty-four teerthankers is also an average. It is from the memory of many
periods of creation that the average is worked out.
There are memories of several
worlds having been born and their annihilation, and during those periods
teerthankers were born. On an average, in each such period, only about
twenty-four persons are able to maintain the bond to take one more birth. In
this context, it should also be remembered that when we are talking about the
number of accidents on Bombay roads, we are not thinking of accidents on the
roads of London, or accidents only on Marine Drive or on any one particular
road of Bombay.
The calculation of the Jainas
is based only upon their own path. In that calculation, the paths of Jesus,
Krishna or Buddha are not taken into account. But it is also interesting to
note that when Hindus tried to calculate on their path, their count of such
persons was also twenty-four. Similarly, Buddhists also counted twenty-four for
their path. That is why the idea of twenty-four incarnations stuck to all. The
Jainas already had the idea of twenty-four teerthankers and the Buddhists had
the idea of twenty-four buddhas.
In such things, Christianity
and Islam have not gone deep. But Islam did say that Mohammed was not the first
such person and that there were persons like him before. Mohammed himself
indicated that four persons had come before him, but the identity of those
indications remained vague and incomplete. The path of Mohammed in the chain
prior to him cannot be found. The path is only known to start from Mohammed
himself. No one else has been able to count with the same clarity that Mahavira
had in counting the twenty-four in his tradition, because with Mahavira that
path was coming to an end. It is easy to be clear on past events, but Mohammed
had also to think in the future, and there it is difficult to be clear.
Jesus too had tried to count
people prior to him, but his calculations were vague because the road of Jesus
was also new, beginning with him. Buddha also could not clearly count those
prior to himself; he only made indirect references in that direction.
That is why, in the count of
twenty-four buddhas, there is none prior to Buddha. In this connection, Jainas
have searched deeper and are more authentic. They have kept full records of the
names and addresses of those twenty-four. Thus, on every path there are
twenty-four individuals. Such individuals take only one more birth after
realization. That birth, I have told you, is due only to compassion.
In this world, nothing happens
without a reason. The reason for taking another birth can only be one of two:
either there is desire or there is compassion. There is no third reason. I can
come to your house either to give something or to take something. There can be
no third reason. If I come to your house to take something, it is desire. If I
come to give something, it is compassion. There is no third reason or purpose
for coming to your house. All births out of desire will be dependent, because
you can never be independent in a condition of craving or begging. How can a
beggar be independent?
It is not possible for a beggar
to be independent, because all the freedom lies with the giver. What freedom
can there be for the beggar? But the giver can be free. Even if you do not take,
the giver can give. But if you do not give, the beggar cannot take. It is not
necessary that we take all that Mahavira and Buddha gave us, but it is certain
that they have given. The taking is not certain and can be avoided, but the
giving is positive and definite. The desire to distribute that which is
received, realized or known is natural, but that is the last desire. Therefore,
it is also called a bondage. Those who have known have described it as a
bondage of action. That too is a bondage - the last bondage.
So I will have to come to your
house. I may come either to take or to give, but I will be bound to your house.
Even if I am not bound to your
house, it makes no difference. I will have to come to your house. But there is
a great difficulty: since people usually come to your house only to get
something and you have also gone to others' houses only to demand something, it
is naturally difficult to understand someone who comes to give you something.
I will tell you one very
incomprehensible thing that happens because of this. Since you are not able to
understand what it means to give, many times such individuals have had to
pretend to take something from you. It will be beyond your comprehension that
such compassionate people have also to consider whether to ask you for some
food. That is why all of Mahavira's religious discourses were given only after
having taken meals. Such discourses are just a sort of thanksgiving. It is a
thanksgiving for the food that you gave.
If Mahavira should come to beg
food, you immediately understand it. He will tell you a few words in return, by
way of thanks, and will go away. You feel gratified that you have given two
pieces of bread, an enormous task indeed! You will not be able to realize that
such compassionate persons have also to consider whether you will be able to
take what they wanted to give. And if there is no arrangement for you to give,
your ego will find it difficult to accept.
That is why it is not without a
reason that Mahavira or Buddha had to go out begging and had to demand food
from you - because it will be impossible for you to tolerate a person who just
goes on giving to you. You will positively become his enemy. You will find it
very strange to think that you become an enemy to a person who just goes on
giving to you and does not give you any opportunity to give in return. If he
does not demand anything from you, a barrier is created between him and you.
That is why such a person
generally asks you for small things. Sometimes he asks for meals, sometimes for
clothes and sometimes he says he has no place to rest. He has taken something
from you, and you become tensionless. You have become his equal, on the same
level, because you have given him something more, and he has not given you
anything but a few words. You have given him shelter, clothes or money. What
has he given? He has only told you a few stories or given you some advice.
Buddha, therefore, called his
sannyasins bhikkus, and asked them to go about as beggars, because then only
could they give. They would have to go about in the guise of beggars in order
to create a situation in which they could easily give.
Compassion has its own
problems. A person living on such a plane is facing great difficulties. We
cannot understand him. He is living among people who do not understand his
language and will always misunderstand him. This is unavoidable, though he is
not inconvenienced or worried about it. When you misunderstand him there is no
worry, because he knows that it is natural and that you are thinking and
understand things from your own plane. Therefore, those realized persons who
have not developed the capacity to teach in past births disappear, no sooner do
they become realized; they do not take another birth.
In this connection, it is also
worthwhile understanding that the taking of birth by Mahavira and Buddha in a
king's family is very meaningful. Jainas had decided conclusively that a
teerthanker must take birth only in a king's family. I once said that there is
a story of Mahavira's soul having entered into the womb of a brahmin woman, and
the Gods had to exchange the fetus with that belonging to a kshatriya woman,
because a teerthanker had to be born only in a king's family.
Why? Because after taking birth
in a king's family, if one becomes a beggar of his own free will, he will be
more effective and more acceptable to people. He will be understood better by
people because they have been in the habit of always taking and demanding
something from their king.
And because of that habit,
perhaps whatever he has come to give will be taken by people.
It is our habit to always look
up to a king, as he is always sitting on a higher level. Even if that king
chooses to be a beggar and begs on the road, he remains on a higher level. This
old habit that people have will help him. Therefore, this was a device to make
it easy to give. Thus, one such as a teerthanker could be born only out of a
king's family. But this was not difficult, because such a person had a choice
in his hands as to where to take birth.
All those individuals like
Buddha and Mahavira had attained and realized in their previous births.
Then all that was attained was
distributed in their last birth. It may be asked that if all this knowledge and
attainment came in the previous birth, why did Mahavira and Buddha appear to
make so much effort in their most recent birth to attain something?
To this question there is no
answer. Due to this, confusion is created. Why should Mahavira and Buddha do so
much sadhana? Krishna did not do any such thing, while Mahavira and Buddha did.
This effort was not in order to
attain to truth. Truth was already known to them, but to explain and express it
to others is not in any way less difficult than knowing it. In fact, it is more
difficult. If one has to explain certain truths, it is all the more difficult.
For example, the truth of
Krishna was not in any way specialized. That is why Krishna could succeed in
his efforts to give it from where he was. But the truth which Mahavira and
Buddha taught happens to be very specialized. The paths which they had shown
are also very peculiar. They are peculiar in this respect: for example, if
Mahavira would have asked someone to go on a fast for thirty days, and if that
person knew that Mahavira himself had never done any fasting, he would not be
prepared to listen to Mahavira.
Mahavira had to do fasting for
twelve years only for those whom he wanted to teach. Otherwise it would not
have been possible to speak to them about fasting. Mahavira had to keep mouna,
silence, for twelve years in order to convince those whom he wanted to become
silent for only twelve days.
Otherwise they would not listen
to Mahavira.
Regarding Buddha, there is
another interesting story. Buddha was starting a new meditation system whereas
Mahavira was not starting a system which was new. Mahavira already had the
knowledge of a fully developed science, in a tradition where he was not the
first but the last. Behind him was a long chain of eminent teachers. That chain
was so well preserved and secured that it was never lost. That knowledge was
deposited with Mahavira as a sort of trust from the earlier teachers.
It is indeed a wonder that up
until the time of Mahavira, knowledge was able to remain so continuous.
Thus, Mahavira did not have to
give any new truth. The truth which was to be given had been long nourished,
and it had the strength of a long heritage. But Mahavira also had to create his
own individuality so that people would listen to him.
It is interesting to note that
the Jainas have remembered Mahavira the most and that the earlier twenty-three
teerthankers are practically forgotten. This is surprising, as Mahavira was the
last in the chain. He was neither a pioneer nor the first, nor did he have any
new truth to be revealed. He revealed only those things which were already
known and tested. Still, Mahavira is remembered the most, and the remaining
twenty-three have become mythological.
If Mahavira had not been born,
we would not have even known the names of those previous twenty- three
teerthankers. The deeper reason for this is that Mahavira spent twelve years
building his image and individuality while the other teerthankers did not. They
just looked after their sadhana.
Mahavira had a very well
organized system. In sadhana there is no organized system, but for Mahavira,
sadhana was a sort of acting which he performed very efficiently.
That is why the images of the
other twenty-three teerthankers could not emerge as clearly and as sharply as
the image of Mahavira. They all appeared faint. Mahavira created his image like
an accomplished artist. It was all well planned. Whatsoever he wanted to do
with his personality was well prepared. He came fully prepared.
Buddha was the first in the
sense that he had brought with him a new system of sadhana. Therefore, Buddha
had to go through a different route. It is interesting to note that this
created an illusion that Buddha went through sadhana himself. Actually, Buddha
had also realized in his previous life. In this birth, he had only to
distribute the harvest that he had previously reaped. But Buddha did not have
an organized tradition behind him. Buddha's search was entirely his own. He
carved out a new path for himself. On that same mountain where a wide highway
already existed, he had carved out a new path.
Mahavira was walking on a
ready-made royal path, but he had to announce it again because people very
often tend to forget such things. But the path was already there for him.
Buddha had to break new ground, so he made a different type of arrangement in his
life. First he went through all sorts of sadhanas. And after passing through
each such sadhana, he said that it was useless and that no one could reach
anywhere through it. In the end he announced his own method, saying that he had
reached that way and that anyone could reach that way.
This was, one may say, very
much a prearranged affair - very well arranged! He who wants to introduce a new
practice will have to declare that all old practices are false. And if Buddha
would have called them false without passing through them, as Krishnamurti
does, then the effect would not have been any more than the effect of what
Krishnamurti tells, because one does not have a right to declare anything which
is not within one's experience as false.
Recently, someone who comes to
me had also gone to see Krishnamurti and had asked him about kundalini.
Krishnamurti had said that it is all useless. Then, to the person who reported
this I asked whether he has asked this from experience - whether he asked it
after experimenting with kundalini - or without doing so. If it was asked
without experimenting or passing through it, then it was useless.
If it was asked after
experimenting, then another question should be asked to him: whether he was
successful or whether he was unsuccessful.
If he was successful, then it
was wrong to say it is useless. If he was unsuccessful, it does not necessarily
follow that others also are bound to be unsuccessful in experimenting.
Therefore, Buddha had to pass through all practices and had to show that this
practice was wrong or that one was wrong and that no one would reach anywhere
through it. Then he could say, "I have reached by this method, and I am
telling you from experience."
Mahavira passed through all the
same practices, but he announced that they had been practiced for ages and were
useful. Buddha had said that everything was useless, and he opened up a new
direction. But both of them had realized in their previous birth.
Krishna also had realized in
his previous birth, but Krishna did not introduce any new special technique for
self-realization. Krishna indicated a particular way to live life. Therefore,
there was no need of passing through any process of meditation or austerity,
because that itself would be an obstacle.
If Mahavira had said that it is
possible to attain moksha even while sitting in your own shop, then Mahavira's
own effort in developing his individuality would have seemed futile. Then
people would ask Mahavira, "Why did you give up everything then?" If
Krishna had gone into a forest to meditate and then stood on the battlefield
and said that even on the battlefield one can attain, no one would have
listened to him. Then Arjuna also would have asked him why he wanted to deceive
him. If Krishna himself would have gone to the forest, why should he prevent
Arjuna from doing so?
So it depends upon every
teacher how and what he wants to give. Then an appropriate effort, a living
endeavor, has to be made in that context. Often he will have to make
arrangements in life that are totally artificial. But this is unavoidable for
what he wants to give.
Now this question which you
have asked about me is a little difficult to answer. It is easier for me to
reply if asked about Mahavira or Buddha or Krishna. But still, two or three
things can be kept in view.
Firstly, my previous birth took
place about seven hundred years ago. More difficulties are there due to that
fact.
Mahavira's previous birth was
about two hundred and fifty years before his birth as Mahavira.
Buddha's previous birth was only
seventy-eight years before his birth as Buddha. In Buddha's case, there were
even people living who could stand witness to the fact of his previous birth.
Even
during the lifetime of
Mahavira, there were people who could remember having met Mahavira in their
previous birth. Krishna's birth as Krishna was about two thousand years after
his last birth, and so all the names of enlightened rishis that Krishna had
given were very ancient. It was not even possible to remember them
historically.
Seven hundred years is a very
long period. But for the one who is taking birth after seven hundred years it
is not very long, because when one is not in the body there is no difference
between one moment and seven hundred years. Time measurement begins only with
the body. Outside the body, it makes no difference whether you have been for
seven hundred years or seven thousand years.
Only upon acquiring a body does
the difference begin.
It is also very interesting to
note the method for knowing the time interval between the last death and the
current birth. Speaking about myself, how did I come to know that I was not
here for seven hundred years? It is very difficult to just figure it out
directly. I can only judge or calculate the time by observing those people who
took several births during this time interval.
Suppose, for example, that a
particular person was known to me during my lifetime seven hundred years ago.
In between for me there was a gap, but he may have taken birth ten times.
However, there are memories of his past ten births. From his memories only can
I calculate how long I must have remained without a body. Otherwise it is
difficult to calculate and determine this, because our time scale and methods
of measurement do not belong to the time that prevails beyond body or in the
bodiless state. Our measurements of time are in the world of bodily existence.
It is something like this, that
for a moment I go to sleep and see a dream. In the dream I see that years have
passed, and after some moments you awaken me and say that I had been dozing. I
ask you how much time has been passed in dozing, and you reply, "It was
not even for a moment." I say, "How is that possible? I have seen a
dream sequence of several years."
In a dream, an expanse of
several years can be seen within a moment. The time scale of dream life is
different. If, after awakening from a dream, the dreamer had no way of knowing
when he went to sleep, then it would be difficult to determine the length of
his sleep. That can be known only by a clock. For example, when I was
previously awake it was twelve o'clock, and now that I have woken up after
sleeping it is only one minute past twelve. Otherwise I can only know because
you were here also; there is no other way of knowing. So only in this way has
it been determined that seven hundred years have passed.
And another thing you have
asked me is whether I was born with full realization. Concerning this, there
are a few things to be understood which are important.
It can be said that I was born
with nearabout full knowledge. I say nearabout only because some steps have
been left out deliberately, and deliberately that can be done.
In this connection also, the
Jaina thinking is very scientific. They have divided knowledge into fourteen
steps. Thirteen steps are in this world and the fourteenth is in the beyond.
Out of these gunasthana - these first thirteen steps - some of them are such
that they could be left out; they are optional. It is not necessary that one
should pass through all of them. Such layers can all be passed through also,
but one who jumps over them can never keep the teerthanker bandh intact.
Whatsoever is optional must
also be known by the teacher. Optional subjects must also be studied by the
teacher. For the student, whatsoever must be known in order to get through an
examination is sufficient. But the teacher has to understand everything, even
what is optional.
In these thirteen steps of
self-realization, there are a few things that are optional. There are certain
dimensions of realization about which it is not necessary to know in order to
become enlightened.
One can go straight to moksha.
But for one to be a teacher, those dimensions must also be known.
Another important thing to be
noted is that after a certain stage of development, for example, after the
attainment of twelve steps, the length of time that it takes to achieve the
remaining steps can be stretched out. They can be attained either in one birth,
two births or in three births. Great use can be made of postponement.
As I said previously, after the
attainment of full realization there is no further possibility of taking birth
more than one time more. Such an enlightened one is not likely to cooperate or
be helpful for more than one additional birth. But after reaching twelve steps,
if two can be set aside, then such a person can be useful for many births more.
And the possibility is there to set them aside.
On reaching the twelfth step,
the journey has nearabout come to an end. I say nearabout: that means that all
walls have collapsed; only a transparent curtain remains through which
everything can be seen. However the curtain is there. After lifting it, there
is no difficulty in going beyond. After going beyond the curtain, whatsoever
you are ordinarily able to see can be seen from the other side of the curtain
also. There is no difference at all.
So this is why I say nearabout:
by taking one step more, one can go beyond the curtain. But then there is a
possibility of only one more birth, while if one remains on this side of the
curtain one can take as many births as one wants. After crossing into the
beyond, there is no way of coming back more than once to this side of the
curtain.
One might ask whether Mahavira
and Buddha knew this. Yes, this was clear to them, and it could have been
utilized by them also. But there are fundamental differences of circumstances.
It is of interest to note that
after attaining full self-realization, that realization can only be taught to
very advanced students, not to all. For those people on whom Buddha and
Mahavira were working during their several births, for those who were walking
beside them in many forms, for them, one more birth was just sufficient.
Sometimes it so happened that even one more birth was not necessary. If in
one's present life one attained realization at the age of twenty, and if one is
to live until age sixty, then if he can complete the work in the remaining
forty years, the matter ends; there is no necessity to come back.
But now the situation is very
strange. Those who can be called developed sadhaks are as good as nil. In order
to work on such sadhaks, future teachers will have to work for many births.
Then only can the work be completed; not otherwise.
For Mahavira or Buddha the
situation was different because when they were about to leave the last life
they could find a few people around them to whom further work could be
entrusted. That situation does not exist now.
Today, man is totally an
extrovert. That is why today the teacher has difficulties such as were not there
previously. Not only does he have to work harder with a greater number of
undeveloped people, but there is also the fear that his labor may go to waste.
Again, it is not possible to find suitable individuals to whom further work can
be entrusted. This happened in the case of Guru Nanak of the Sikh tradition.
Up to Gobind Singh, up to the
tenth Sikh guru, it was possible to find the next man. But Gobind Singh had to
stop that practice. Gobind Singh tried very hard, such as none had done before
him, to find the eleventh man for keeping the chain intact. But he could not
find anyone. He had to close the search, and there ended the chain. Now there
can be no eleventh man because it can happen only in close continuity. Once
there is the slightest break or gap, it is not possible to pass on what is to
be transferred.
Bodhidharma, a realized
disciple of Buddha, had to go from India to China, because in China there was a
person to whom it was possible to transfer his knowledge. The Buddhist
tradition itself moved out of India as a consequence. People understood from
this that a few Buddhist monks went to China in order to spread Buddhism, but
this notion is wrong. This is the understanding of those who see the events of
history superficially.
Hui-Ke was the name of a person
in China to whom it was possible to transfer knowledge, and it is interesting
to note that he was not willing to come to India. The difficulties of this
world are often very surprising. Hui-Ke was not willing to come because he was
not aware of his potential. Therefore, Bodhidharma had to go on a long journey
all the way to China. Then again a time came when the secrets of the Buddhist
tradition had to be shifted to Japan, for the same transfer of knowledge.
This gap of seven hundred years
was a period of several difficulties for me. The difficulties were these:
Firstly, it was becoming more and more difficult to take birth. For any person
who reaches a certain stage of development, it is difficult to find suitable
parents for another birth. During the time of Mahavira and Buddha there was no
such difficulty. Daily, wombs were available through which such advanced souls
could take birth.
In the time of Mahavira, there
were eight fully realized persons in Bihar - all of the same level as Mahavira.
They were working from eight different ways. The nearabout condition was
reached by thousands. There were not a few, but thousands to whom the work
could be entrusted for proper care and further transmission.
Nowadays, if someone of that
high level wants to take birth, he may have to wait for a few thousand years.
Another difficulty is that during the interval the work he may have done could
get lost. In between, the individuals on whom he may have done some work would
have taken ten more births, and it would be difficult to cut through the layers
upon layers of those ten births.
Nowadays, any master will have
to pass through a much longer period before finally lifting the curtain and
going beyond. He will have to hold himself back. Once he goes beyond the curtain,
he will not be ready or willing to take another birth. He will still have a
choice of whether or not to take one more birth, but he will think it to be
futile. There is a reason for this. He can take one more birth, but for whom?
In one birth, it is not possible to achieve much.
If I know that by coming into
this room I can complete my work within an hour, then it is worth coming. If
the work cannot be done, it is not useful to come. In this respect, compassion
has a twofold purpose. First, it wants to give something to you; second, it
knows also that if it only takes something away from you and is not able to
give as well, then you will be in great danger. Your difficulties will not
decrease but will increase. If I am able to show you something, it is well and
good.
But if I am not able to show
you and you become blind to whatever you were previously able to see, then the
situation is worse.
In connection with these seven
hundred years, a few other things may also be noted. First, I did not have any
idea that such a talk would ever arise. Some time back, suddenly in Poona this
matter came up. My mother had come. She was asked by Ramlal Pungalia whether
she remembered some very early peculiar incident about me and if she would
kindly relate it to him.
I was under the impression that
there was no possibility of such a matter ever coming up. I also did not know
when they talked with each other. Recently, he declared this in a meeting, that
my mother had told him that I did not weep for three days after birth, and I
did not take any milk for three days.
This was her first remembrance
about me.
This is true. Seven hundred
years ago, in my previous life, there was a spiritual practice of twenty- one
days, to be done before death. I was to give up my body after a total fast of
twenty-one days.
There were reasons for this,
but I could not complete those twenty-one days. Three days remained.
Those three days I had to
complete in this life. This life is a continuation from there. The intervening
period does not have any meaning in this respect. When only three days remained
in that life, I was killed. Twenty-one days could not be completed because I
was killed just three days before, and those three days were omitted.
In this life, those three days
were completed. If those twenty-one days could have been completed in that
life, then perhaps it would not have been possible to take more than one birth.
Now in this context, many things are worth noting.
Standing in front of that
curtain and not crossing over is very difficult. Seeing that curtain and still
not to lift it is very difficult. It is difficult constantly to remain aware of
the matter of when the curtain will be lifted. It is very nearly an impossible
task to stand in front of that curtain and still not lift it. But this could
happen only because three days before the completion of the fast, I was killed.
Therefore, I have told many
times in various discussions that just as Judas tried for a long time to kill
Jesus, though Judas had no enmity with Jesus, the person who killed me had no
enmity with me, though he was taken to be, and was treated as, an enemy.
That killing became valuable.
At the time of death, those three days were left. After all my strenuous effort
for enlightenment during that life, I was able to achieve in this life, after a
period of twenty-one years, that which had been possible to achieve during
those three days. For each of those three days in that life, I had to spend
seven years in this life. That is why I say that from my last life alone I have
not come with full realization. I say instead that I have come with nearabout
complete realization. The curtain could have been lifted, but then there could
be only one birth more.
Now I can take still another
birth. There is now a possibility of one more birth. But that will depend on
whether I feel that it will be useful. During this whole life I shall go on
striving to see whether one
more birth will be of some use.
Then it is worthwhile taking birth; otherwise the matter is over and it is no
use making any more effort. So that killing was valuable and useful.
As I have told you, time
measurement while in the body is different from the calculation of time in
other states of consciousness. At the time of birth, time is moving very
slowly. At the time of death, time is moving very rapidly. We have not
understood the speed of time because in our understanding time has no speed. We
understand only that in time all things move.
Up until now, even the most
eminent scientists did not have any idea that time also has a velocity.
The reason for this is that if
we fix or decide the velocity of time, then it will be difficult to measure all
other velocities. Therefore, we have kept time steady. We say that in one hour
someone has walked three miles. But if within three miles the hour also walks
somewhat, it will create many difficulties.
We have, therefore, made the
hour steady and static; otherwise everything would be in confusion.
Thus, we have made time static.
But the most interesting fact is that time is non-static, and it is more fickle
and moves more than anything else. Time means change. We have kept that fixed,
hammered in like a tent peg. It is done precisely for the reason that without
its being fixed, measurement of all other movements will be impossible. This
time-velocity also runs more or less in accordance with one's state of mind.
The time-velocity of a child is
slow, but that of an old man is very fast, compact and contracted. In a short
span, time moves very fast for old people, whereas for a child time moves very
slowly, in a large span. For every animal also, time moves differently. A human
child takes fourteen years to grow only as much as a puppy grows in a few
months. The offspring of some animals grow still faster.
Some animals are born almost
full size. The moment they put their feet on the ground, there is no difference
between them and the adults of their species. They are complete. That is why
animals do not have much sense of time. Movement is very fast for them. It is
so fast that no sooner does the colt put its feet on the ground than it walks.
It cannot conceive that there is a time gap between being born and being able
to walk.
The human child can conceive of
that time gap, and so man is an animal troubled by time. He is, so to speak,
always in tension, racing against time as it is continuously passing and
running on, keeping him lagging behind.
In the last moments of my previous
life, the remaining work could have been done in only three days because time
was very compact. My age was one hundred and six years. Time was moving very
fast. The story of those three days continued in my childhood of this birth. In
my previous life it was at its end, but to finish that work here in this life
took twenty-one years.
Many a time, if the opportunity
is missed, it may be necessary to spend as many as seven years for every single
day. So in this life I did not come with full realization, but came with
nearabout full realization. But now I will have to make my arrangements
differently.
As I told you, Mahavira had to
contrive a tapashcharya, a system of austerities, through which he could give.
Buddha had to contrive still other methods to falsify all austerities - one
after the other.
This was also a type of
austerity. What Mahavira and Buddha did not have to do, I have to do. Just
for nothing, I have to read
everything that there is in the world. It is all useless; I have no use for it.
But to the modern world, which
does not bother about the one who goes on a fast or the one who sits with his
eyes closed, no message can be given through practicing austerities. If anyone
can be reached by any austerity, it is only through that of my having digested
the great accumulation of intellectual knowledge that is daily growing bigger
and bigger.
That is why I have spent my
whole life with books. I would say that Mahavira was not troubled much by
remaining on a fast, but I have had to take the trouble of reading so much that
is of no use to me.
However, only after taking that
trouble can I communicate and make my message intelligible to this world;
otherwise not. The modern age of science can understand only in its own
language.
If these things become clear to
you, it is not difficult for you also to start having some idea about your
previous births. I wish that I can soon make you remember such things, because
if you can remember it will save a lot of time and energy. Ordinarily, it so
happens that you start your life not from where you had left off in the
previous one, but in every birth you start again from almost ABC. If you can
remember your past, then you do not have to start from ABC, but you can start
from where you had left off. And then only is it possible to make progress, not
otherwise.
Now this is worth
understanding: Animals have not been progressing at all. Scientists are puzzled
that animals have been reproducing themselves without further evolution. The
monkey has only a slightly less developed brain than a man, but the
evolutionary difference is much greater than the difference in brain. What is
the matter? What could be the difficulty? Why are the monkeys not coming out of
this repetitive circle? They are right there where they were a million years
ago.
We are thinking that the
evolutionary process is going on everywhere, but it is all very uncertain.
Darwin's hypothesis is very
confusing because for hundreds and thousands of years monkeys are where they
have always been; they are not developing. A squirrel remains a squirrel and
does not develop. The cow remains a cow without further development. So
development is not automatic; there is something else that is creating the
difference.
Every monkey has to start from where
his father started. The son cannot start from where the father had ended. The
father is not able to communicate; he is not able to make his son start from
where he left off during his life. How can there be any progress? Each time a
son begins from the same point.
Similar is the condition
regarding the development of the soul. If you are starting this life from where
you had started in the previous life, you cannot develop. In a spiritual sense,
there will be no evolution for you. In every birth you will start from the same
point where you had started previously.
If the starting point remains
the same, then there is no evolution.
Evolution or development means
that the previous ending point should be the starting point; otherwise there
will be no evolution. Man could make progress because he has invented a
language for communication. What the father knows he can teach his child.
Education means this, that that which the generation of the father has come to
know can be handed down to the generation of the son.
But the son will not have to
start from where the father had started. If the son can start from where the
father has left off, then there will be progress. Then the movement will not be
in the form of a
circle, but in the form of a
spiral. Then the child will not move in a circle, but will begin climbing. He
will begin climbing as if he were on a hill. What is true for the general human
evolution is also true for the spiritual evolution of an individual.
If you do not have any
communication between this life and the previous one, then you have not
inquired at all into your previous life. You have not inquired into where you
have left off so that you could begin from there. Because of this it may be
that you will again erect the same edifice from its foundation which you had
already constructed in the last life. Again you will lay the foundation. If you
go on only laying the foundation, then when will you complete the construction
of the building?
Therefore, what little I have
told you about my previous life is not because it has any value or that you may
know something about me. I have told you this only because it may make you
reflect about yourselves and set you in search of your past lives. The moment
you know your past lives, there will be a spiritual revolution and evolution.
Then you will start from where you had left off in your last life; otherwise
you will get lost in endless lives and reach nowhere. There will only be a
repetition.
There has to be a link, a
communication, between this life and the previous one. Whatsoever you had
achieved in your previous life should come to be known, and you should have the
capacity to take the next step forwards. That is why Buddha and Mahavira
discussed the matter of previous lives in great detail. This was not done by
earlier teachers.
The teachers of the Vedas and
the Upanishads had told everything about supreme knowledge, but they did not
connect it with the science of knowing about previous births. By the time
Mahavira took birth, the need for this became clear. It was clear that it was
not sufficient only to tell what you can become. It was necessary also to tell
what you have been, because without the support and help of what you have been,
your potentialities cannot blossom, you cannot become that which you can
become.
This is why a full forty years
in the lives of Mahavira and Buddha were spent in trying to make people
remember their previous births. As long as a person did not remember his last
life, he was told that he need not bother about his further progress. He should
first see clearly his road and the point up to which he had reached, then take
a further step. Otherwise there would only be a running forwards and backwards
on the same road again and again to no avail. That is why the remembering of previous
births became an absolutely unavoidable first step.
Nowadays the difficulty is
this: it is not very difficult to make you remember your previous births, but
the thing called courage has been lost. It is possible to make you remember
your previous births only if you have achieved the capacity to remain
undisturbed in the midst of the very difficult memories of this life. Otherwise
it is not possible.
Memories of this birth are not
so difficult to take, but when the memories of previous births break upon you,
it will be very difficult. While the memories of this life come in
installments, those of previous lives break upon you in their entirety.
In this life, what we suffer
today is forgotten the next day and what we suffer the next day is forgotten the
day after. But the memories of your previous lives will break upon you in their
entirety, not in fragments. Will you be able to bear it? You gain the capacity
to bear the memories of past lives only
when you are able to bear the
worst conditions of life. Whatsoever happens, nothing should make a difference
to you.
When no memory of this life can
be a cause of anxiety to you, only then can you be led into the memories of
past lives. Otherwise those memories may become great traumas for you, and the
door to such traumas cannot be opened unless you have the capacity and
worthiness to face them.
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