Chapter 15

Question 2



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The second question

Question 2



Krishna Prem,

MIND of India is one of the most ancient minds in the world, hence it has its problems. A child has no problems  -- they are yet to arrive -- but the old man has a long past, and the whole past goes on becoming bigger and bigger every day. It is accumulative. It carries a thousand and one hang-ups, obsessions, nightmares, unlived experiences still hankering to be completed...

India has one of the longest histories in the world. Compared to India, America is just a new-born child. Even the orthodox historians believe that India has lived for at least ten thousand years, without a single revolution. Revolution means destroying the old and beginning the new -- then it would have been totally different.

One day I asked Mulla Nasruddin, "Your umbrella is so new, so beautiful. When did you purchase it?"

He said, "It is a miracle, Osho! It is not new, it is at least thirty years old."

I said, "Thirty years old? It looks so new -- as if it has not been in the rain even a single time!"

He said, "It is thirty years old, but has been exchanged for many other umbrellas at least a hundred times.Just the other day in the temple again it happened!"

Now, if just the other day it happened again that you exchanged it for somebody else's umbrella and you still call it thirty years old, that is another matter. But India has not changed its umbrella for ten thousand years -- and that is according to the very conventional, orthodox historians. If you listen to the Hindu chauvinists, then India has lived at least ninety thousand years. That was the calculation of Lokmanya Tilak -- he also lived in Poona. Ninety thousand years was his calculation. Whether it is ten thousand or ninety thousand it does not matter. All that matters is it has a very long past and that past has never been broken; it still continues.

During this long past, India has lived a very repressed life. At least twenty-five centuries are perfectly well-known, historically well-known; before that things are a little vague. But these twenty-five centuries after Gautam Buddha and Mahavira are perfectly well-known. In these twenty-five centuries no other country, no other culture, no other race, has been so life-negative as India. A strange disease entered into India's heart, something like a cancer  -- incurable. It became obsessed with the idea that if you want to attain to God or liberation you have to be life-negative, you have to renounce life -- as if God is against life.

Now this is the most stupid thing that can happen to any country. On the one hand people go on saying, "God created life, God created existence, God created us -- God created everything that is," and on the other hand the same people, very illogically, go on insisting that "If you want to come closer to God you will have to renounce the world that he has created."

It is almost saying something like this: that if you want to love Rabindranath Tagore you will have to hate his poetry, or if you want to love Picasso you have to destroy his paintings. If God is the creator, if God is the poet, the musician, the dancer, then this whole existence is his dance, his painting, his music, his poetry, his song. This whole existence is srimat bhagavadgita, God's song. If you want to come close to God you will have to come closer to this existence.

But India has lived with this denial. Why did this denial appeal to India so much? Denial always appeals to the ego. The ego lives surrounded by no's: no, no, no. It lives in a forest of no's. The moment you are full of yes the ego starts dying -- a natural death, a very effortless death; you have not to kill it. Yes is the death of the ego.

The Indian mind became egoistic about its spirituality, about its religiousness, about its sacredness, about its ancient heritage. And the more egoistic it became, the more it had to live and nourish the ego through denials.

In India, a man is thought to be a saint according to the quantity of things around him that he denies. He denies himself food, he denies himself all the comforts of the body, he denies himself shelter, he denies himself even clothes -- he denies himself everything that human nature feels comfortable with -- then he becomes a great saint, a mahatma.

That's why I appear almost like a sinner; it is a natural conclusion. If denial, saying no to life, is to be a saint, then certainly I am not a saint. I say yes to life, to all its joys and beauties, to all its splendor. I say a total, wholehearted yes. I am ready to accept being called a sinner, but I am not ready to deny life.

Love is saying yes to life. Love is nothing but saying yes to life. Hate is saying no to life. And in India the person who hates life, renounces it, denounces it, condemns it, is worshipped as a saint. And because of these people and because of this tradition and because of this conditioning, everybody has become repressed. Everybody's love energy is in a perverted state. When love becomes perverted it creates lust. Love is beautiful, lust is ugly.

When you see a woman, a beautiful woman, or a beautiful man, you can see her or him through loving eyes or lustful eyes -- and the difference is tremendous but very delicate. When you see a woman through loving eyes you are seeing a roseflower or a lotus or a sunset. And if you say the sunset is beautiful and if you stop for a moment, nobody will say that this is wrong, that this is immoral. If you say that the roseflower is beautiful and if you go close to the roseflower to smell the perfume of it or even to touch it tenderly, softly, to feel its velvetiness, nobody will call you a sinner. People will think you are a poet, a sensitive man, that you have some aesthetic sensibility.

But if you go to a beautiful woman just to touch her, to see her skin, to feel it, and to say to her, "You are beautiful!" suddenly great fear arises. This cannot be done; this is immoral -- she is somebody else's woman. Or even if she is your own woman, this has to be done in privacy, as if you cannot enjoy the sunset openly -- you have to hide somewhere, then you can enjoy -- you cannot enjoy the starry night.

Love simply means sensitivity to beauty, to life. Lust means a desire to exploit, a desire to use the woman as a means. Lust is sexual, love is sensitive. There may be sex in love, but then it has a totally different connotation, a different meaning, a different flavor. Then it is not the center of it.

In a loving relationship sex may happen, may not happen; there is no inevitability about it. If it happens then it is part of love, of sharing energy. If it does not happen, that too is part of love. There is no need to come to the physical level; you are capable of sharing your energies psychologically, spiritually.

So love has many dimensions, at least three dimensions: the physical, which can become sex; the psychological, which becomes friendship; and the spiritual, which becomes prayer. And it is possible that in love all three dimensions may be present simultaneously, but they are all part of a loving approach towards life. There is no exploitation; there is no desire to use the other as a means and then throw them away.

Lust means sex is the center: you don't have any sensibility for beauty, you don't have any aesthetic sense. Can you think of a man of aesthetic sense going to a prostitute? Impossible. Can you think of a man who has some aesthetic sense raping a woman? Impossible. Or even hitting a woman in the crowd or just touching her body in such a way as if he was not meaning to touch her, as if it happened accidentally? This is not love, this is not sensibility, this is not sensitiveness. It is lust.

Lust means you don't respect the other at all. You have a deep, repressed desire, repressed sexuality which comes in many perverted ways. Then your eyes become covered and colored with only sexuality.

The most important thing in the Indian mind is sex. Hence every day so many rapes happen, and no woman is safe walking on a street. How many sannyasins have written to me, particularly women sannyasins, saying, "Is it not our right to walk alone under the stars in the sky? Are we not human beings? Don't we have such a simple human right?" But in India it is impossible.

Just the other day a young woman sannyasin was attacked by four Indians. Of course she screamed, and some sannyasins reached in time; otherwise they were going to rape her -- they had torn her dress apart. And this is not just one accident, it has been happening every once in a while for almost six years.

The Indian mind is so sexually repressed that it cannot love, it can only lust. And once the lust is there you start looking at everybody else in the same way; that is your language.

When two Western sannyasins are hugging each other and the Indian -- any Indian -- sees them, the only idea in his mind is that of sex and lust; he cannot understand love. Not a single sannyasin from the West in these six years -- and thousands have come, at least fifty thousand people come every year -- has raped any Indian woman. But hundreds of attempts have been made by the Indians on Western women, and not only by ordinary people but even by police officers. Even to go to the police station is dangerous! Everywhere there are wolves -- and these are very spiritual wolves, very religious! But they know only one language: that of lust.

Two drunkards were walking home across a bridge, when one suddenly lost his balance and fell into the river.

"Help! Help!" echoed from under the bridge.

The help took a little while coming. When they found the drunkard, he was already dead.

"What happened?" asked his friend.

"He drank too much water," was the reply.

"Poor guy," exclaimed the drunkard, "it was the first time he drank water!"

Two little Indian pigs were chatting.

"What a boring day! Nothing happening!"

"Yeah!" sighed the other.

"Got any ideas for an adventure?"

"No, have you?"

"Well," said Pinky, "why don't we go down to the butcher shop and have a look around?"

"What for?" asked his friend.

"To see if there is any new naked lady!"

Sex can be raised to higher levels of love and prayer, and sex can also be reduced to lower levels of lust and animality. Sex can become a conversion or a perversion; it has both the possibilities. And because of twentyfive centuries of continuous condemnation, every Indian is full of perverted ideas.

A farmer lived with his young, voluptuous, blonde haired daughter who was a virgin.

One day three young men came and asked to stay the night. The farmer agreed, but to protect his daughter's virginity he placed a chastity belt with steel claws around her vagina.

The next morning the farmer woke the three young men, shouting, "Drop your pants!"

One young man dropped his pants, showing his tool all mangled and bloody. The second young man dropped his pants, showing his tool all mangled and bloody, but the third one revealed his manhood still intact.

"Ah," said the farmer, "at least one of you is moral and decent! Thank you, young man!"

Shaking his head, the young man opened his mouth, scattering blood and broken teeth in all directions.

Life should be lived naturally, life should be lived according to the laws of nature -- not according to the laws of Manu, not according to the ascetics, not according to the saints, but according to the Dhamma. Ais dhammo sanantano, Buddha says: This is the eternal law. We have to find the eternal law in things, how the whole universe runs in a harmony, how there is such tremendous order. It is not a chaos, it is a cosmos. Man has also to become a cosmos, and it is possible only through love.

You ask me, Krishna Prem, how to help them. The only way to help them is to persuade them to meditate, to be here, to become more sensitive, more aesthetic. It is a great work because to change such a big country with such a nonsense past it is not an easy job. But it is a challenge and worth accepting!


Next: Chapter 15: Question 3


Energy Enhancement                Enlightened Texts               Christianity                Theologia Mystica



Chapter 15






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