BELOVED OSHO,

OF VOLUNTARY DEATH

MANY DIE TOO LATE AND SOME DIE TOO EARLY. STILL THE DOCTRINE SOUNDS STRANGE:

‘DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME.’

DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME: THUS ZARATHUSTRA TEACHES.

TO BE SURE, HE WHO NEVER LIVED AT THE RIGHT TIME COULD HARDLY DIE AT THE RIGHT

TIME! BETTER IF HE WERE NEVER TO BE BORN! – THUS I ADVISE THE SUPERFLUOUS.

BUT EVEN THE SUPERFLUOUS MAKE A GREAT THING OF THEIR DYING; YES, EVEN THE

HOLLOWEST NUT WANTS TO BE CRACKED.

EVERYONE TREATS DEATH AS AN IMPORTANT MATTER: BUT AS YET DEATH IS NOT A

FESTIVAL. AS YET, MEN HAVE NOT LEARNED TO CONSECRATE THE FAIREST FESTIVALS.

I SHALL SHOW YOU THE CONSUMMATING DEATH, WHICH SHALL BE A SPUR AND A

PROMISE TO THE LIVING.

THE MAN CONSUMMATING HIS LIFE DIES HIS DEATH TRIUMPHANTLY....

TO DIE THUS IS THE BEST DEATH; BUT THE SECOND BEST IS: TO DIE IN BATTLE AND TO

SQUANDER A GREAT SOUL.

BUT EQUALLY HATEFUL TO THE FIGHTER AS TO THE VICTOR IS YOUR GRINNING DEATH,

WHICH COMES CREEPING UP LIKE A THIEF – AND YET COMES AS MASTER.

I COMMEND TO YOU MY SORT OF DEATH, VOLUNTARY DEATH THAT COMES TO ME

BECAUSE I WISH IT.

AND WHEN SHALL I WISH IT? – HE WHO HAS A GOAL AND AN HEIR WANTS DEATH AT THE

TIME MOST FAVORABLE TO HIS GOAL AND HIS HEIR....

MANY A ONE GROWS TOO OLD EVEN FOR HIS TRUTHS AND VICTORIES; A TOOTHLESS

MOUTH HAS NO LONGER THE RIGHT TO EVERY TRUTH.

AND EVERYONE WHO WANTS GLORY MUST TAKE LEAVE OF HONOUR IN GOOD TIME AND

PRACTISE THE DIFFICULT ART OF – GOING AT THE RIGHT TIME....

I WISH PREACHERS OF SPEEDY DEATH WOULD COME! THEY WOULD BE THE FITTING

STORM AND SHAKERS OF THE TREES OF LIFE! BUT I HEAR PREACHED ONLY SLOW DEATH

AND PATIENCE WITH ALL ’EARTHLY THINGS’.

IF ONE ONLY REMAINED IN THE DESERT AND FAR FROM THE GOOD AND JUST! PERHAPS

HE WOULD HAVE LEARNED TO LIVE AND LEARNED TO LOVE THE EARTH – AND LAUGHTER

AS WELL!...

THAT YOUR DEATH MAY NOT BE A BLASPHEMY AGAINST MAN AND THE EARTH, MY

FRIENDS; THAT IS WHAT I BEG FROM THE HONEY OF YOUR SOUL.

IN YOUR DEATH, YOUR SPIRIT AND YOUR VIRTUE

SHOULD STILL GLOW LIKE A SUNSET GLOW AROUND THE

EARTH: OTHERWISE YOURS IS A BAD DEATH.

THUS I WANT TO DIE MYSELF, THAT YOU FRIENDS MAY LOVE THE EARTH MORE FOR MY

SAKE; AND I WANT TO BECOME EARTH AGAIN, THAT I MAY HAVE PEACE IN HER WHO BORE

ME.

TRULY, ZARATHUSTRA HAD A GOAL, HE THREW HIS BALL: NOW MAY YOU FRIENDS BE THE

HEIRS OF MY GOAL, I THROW THE GOLDEN BALL TO YOU.

BUT BEST OF ALL I LIKE TO SEE YOU, TOO, THROWING ON THE GOLDEN BALL, MY

FRIENDS! SO I SHALL STAY ON EARTH A LITTLE LONGER: FORGIVE ME FOR IT!

... THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA.

DEATH IS THE most misunderstood phenomenon. People have thought of death as the end of life.

That is the first, basic misunderstanding.

Death is not the end, but the beginning of a new life. Yes, it is an end of something that is already

dead. It is also a crescendo of what we call life, although very few know what life is. They live,

but they live in such ignorance that they never encounter their own life. And it is impossible for

these people to know their own death, because death is the ultimate experience of this life, and the

beginning experience of another. Death is the door between two lives; one is left behind, one is

waiting ahead.

There is nothing ugly about death; but man, out of his fear, has made even the word, death ugly and

unutterable. People don’t like to talk about it. They won’t even listen to the word death.

The fear has reasons. The fear arises because it is always somebody else who dies. You always see

death from the outside, and death is an experience of the innermost being. It is just like watching

love from the outside. You may watch for years, but you will not come to know anything of what love

is. You may come to know the manifestations of love, but not love itself. We know the same about

death. Just the manifestations on the surface – the breathing has stopped, the heart has stopped,

the man as he used to talk and walk is no more there: just a corpse is lying there instead of a living

body.

These are only outer symptoms. Death is the transfer of the soul from one body to another body,

or in cases when a man is fully awakened, from one body to the body of the whole universe. It is a

great journey, but you cannot know it from the outside. From outside, only symptoms are available;

and those symptoms have made people afraid.

Those who have known death from inside lose all fear of death. Instead of death being an ugly

and fearful thing, it changes into one of the purest, most silent, and most sublime experiences.

You experience yourself for the first time without your prison, the body, an experience of absolute

freedom... unhampered, uncaged.

This kind of death can be known in many ways. One is the usual way – but then you will not be here

to report about it. You are gone. You have experienced, but the experience has also gone with you.

Fortunately, there are other ways in which you can experience exactly what death is, and yet remain

alive.

Love is one. In total love, when you are not holding anything back, a kind of death happens. You are

no more body, you are no more mind, you are pure spirit.

In meditation, the same experience happens of bodilessness, mindlessness, and yet of absolute

consciousness, of absolute aliveness.

That’s why lovers never feel afraid of death.

If a lover feels afraid of death, that indicates he has not known love. The meditators never feel afraid

of death. If the meditator feels afraid of death it means he has not gone deep into meditation.

There is only one depth that has to be touched, whether through love or through meditation or

through creativity. The depth is that you are no longer your physical body, and you are no longer

your mental body either – just a pure awareness, a pure sky without any clouds, unbounded. Even

a simple glimpse into it and death becomes a glorious experience. Zarathustra has a few very

important things to say about it.

MANY DIE TOO LATE AND SOME DIE TOO EARLY. STILL THE DOCTRINE SOUNDS STRANGE:

‘DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME.’ When he is saying, MANY DIE TOO LATE, he means they go on living

meaninglessly, without any joy, without any song. Nothing blossoms in their life. It seems that

they have simply forgotten how to die. They go on living, although life has no juice for them, no

excitement, no ecstasy. But they are not brave enough to let the body drop.

They live unnecessarily. They live like a burden on the earth. They live like parasites, uncreative,

and not only uncreative but destructive, because they cannot live, they don’t know how to live. They

are very jealous of those who are still singing, still dancing, still loving. They condemn all those who

are living.

The people who die too late are the condemners. They become saints, they become priests, they

become holy, not because they are holy but because they are unable to live, and they don’t know

how to die: they are in a limbo. And they have to find some excuse. And their excuse becomes a

condemnation of the whole world.

It is known about a Greek philosopher, Zeno, that he used to teach people that life is useless,

meaningless, futile: the only intelligent thing a man can do is to commit suicide.

Hundreds of his disciples committed suicide. He lived a long life himself; he died when he was over

ninety. Somebody asked before he died, ”How come your whole life you have been preaching to

people that the only intelligent thing is to commit suicide? Why have you lived so long?”

Zeno said, ”I had to; otherwise, who would have told people that life is useless, meaningless. It was

a torture to me, but still I went on living, just to save people from this meaningless, futile existence.”

Great excuse! For himself to live, he finds an excuse.

Remember it as a criterion: Whoever condemns life is crippled; has not developed a heart, has

no roots; no flowers blossom in his being, and he cannot accept it that he is at fault. His revenge

against life becomes renunciation. All the religions have been teaching,”Renounce life.” Who are

these people who teach, ”Renounce life?” They are the people who are not capable of living life,

who don’t know the art of life.

... AND SOME DIE TOO EARLY. Zarathustra does not mean that they actually die, he means that

they go on living a posthumous life: they die at thirty and they are buried at seventy. For all those

forty years, nothing happens in their life: it is utterly empty, a desert, where nothing grows and

nothing is green. Not even a stream runs through their life with its songs, with its sounds. They

are absolutely barren. Nothing is created by them, they don’t mother anything – a painting, poetry,

music or dance.

This is posthumous life. They died at thirty. The day you stop loving, the day you stop creating, the

day you stop growing – in a metaphysical sense, you are dead. In a physical sense you may go on

breathing, but your breathing cannot be synonymous with life. It is only vegetation: cabbages and

cauliflowers, and the world is so full of cabbages and cauliflowers.

Zarathustra says, STILL THE DOCTRINE SOUNDS STRANGE; ‘DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME.’ One

who has lived rightly, intensely and totally, is bound to die at the right time. His death is nothing but

a ripening, a harvest. His death is nothing but a fulfillment.

He lived so much, he loved so much, he used all his energy in being creative, he enjoyed so much,

that a point comes where he wants to rest. His cup of life is full. There is no need to go on lingering

on the earth. He has come to the place where he was destined to come.

DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME, can be understood only by those who live, and live totally, without any

inhibitions, naturally; not according to dead scriptures, but according to the living sources of their

own being. They certainly reach a tremendous ecstasy of fulfillment; their death is a completion –

the circle has become complete. Their death has brought them back to another birth.

Unless you die at the right time, you will never experience the beauty of death. It will remain only

a prejudice, an opinion, what you have heard people say about it. But you don’t have your own

personal experience.

DIE AT THE RIGHT TIME: THUS ZARATHUSTRA TEACHES. For Zarathustra, death is the

actualization of your whole potential. Now there is no point of being in the body. You can die

joyously, with a smile on your face, with a tremendous mystery in your eyes. Your death will not be

felt as untimely; almost 99.9 percent of deaths are untimely, either too late, or too early.

The day Gautam Buddha died, early in the morning he said to his disciples, ”It is more than enough.

It is time for me to leave.” They could not understand what he meant; perhaps he meant to leave for

another place. Buddha said, ”You don’t understand, I mean I am going to leave the body. Find a

beautiful place. I have lived beautifully, amongst the mountains, and with the trees and with the wild

animals and the meditators.”

He looked all around and he saw two saal trees, which are very beautiful trees, and very tall. They

were almost like twins, standing side by side. Buddha said, ”That place seems to be right. I will die

there, just between these two saal trees.”

The way he says it seems to be that death is simply a decision for him. For a man who has lived

fully, death becomes a decision: it is up to him. Death does not come to him; he himself makes his

body available for death.

It is painful when death comes to you and takes away your body, and all your things are incomplete

– your children are not grown up, your daughter was going to be married, your business was not

going well. Death has knocked on your door, and you cannot welcome him. Even emperors cannot

welcome death, because there is so much still to be invaded, conquered. Greed knows no limits. It

goes on asking for more and more. That’s why death seems to be such an enemy.

But to a man like Gautam Buddha it is simply a choice. He went between those two saal trees, sat

there, and said to his disciples, ”You will never see me again. This body has lived to its fullest; it

needs to be retired; it needs to go into ultimate rest. But before I drop it, if you have any question,

you should ask it. You may meet another awakened person... when and where is unpredictable.”

But the disciples were crying. This was not a time to ask questions, and they said, ”You have been

answering for forty-two years, you have answered all our questions. You just relax, don’t be worried

about us. You have shown us the path and we will follow it.”

The story is beautiful: Buddha closed his eyes and said, ”I have taken the first step – I am no more

the body.” And then, ”I have taken the second step – I am no more the mind. I have taken the third

step – I am no more the heart. I have taken the fourth step – I have entered into my consciousness.”

That very moment his breathing stopped, his heartbeat stopped. This is a totally different kind of

death – so easy and so relaxed, so fulfilled, so grateful to existence.

These are the same steps as those of meditation. That’s why I said, if you meditate you can

experience death without dying: you can come back. It is a passage from the body to the mind,

to the heart, to the being.

Gautam Buddha died at the right time. But how many people can say that they are dying at the right

time? It is never the right time. On all the graves you will find the inscription: ”He died untimely.”

You will not find a single grave with the inscription, ”This man died timely.” Nobody would like that;

even the dead person would stand up and say, ”This is not right. You are condemning me to say that

I died at the right time. I am dying and you are making a laughing stock of me.” But truthfully, dying

at the right time is the most beautiful thing in the world. It is part of a long series of events in your

life.

TO BE SURE,HE WHO NEVER LIVED AT THE RIGHT TIME COULD HARDLY DIE AT THE RIGHT

TIME! You are alive. It is difficult to say anything about your death, whether you will die at the right

time or not. But are you alive at the right time? Or are you continually missing the train? You always

reach the platform when the train is gone; you see the last compartment leaving the platform.

You are always either late, or too early, but never exactly at the right moment. The reason is that

your mind either lives in the past.... Those who live in the past, in their memories, in all that dust that

they have left behind on the road, they are always late. To be late becomes their routine, because

they cannot be in the present, and to be at the right time means to be in the present.

Then there are people who are living in the future. They are always planning for the tomorrows, what

they are going to do tomorrow. They are always ahead of time. They have already missed the right

time.

This state of being in the past or in the future is so unconscious that almost everybody is divided

into these two categories: the past-oriented and the future-oriented. It is very rare to find someone

in the present, here, now.

Only a person who lives every now, without being hindered by past or present or future, who simply

lives in this very moment, not with an effort because the moment is very small – a slight effort and

you are no more in it.... Unless you live very relaxedly you cannot live in the now.

To live relaxedly, each moment of your life becomes so rich because you are totally there, every

moment, with all your love, with all your intelligence, with all your being. Such a small moment

becomes overflowing with your intelligence, with your love, with your very being. It becomes such a

contentment.

The secret is known; it is an open secret. You know that you always get only one single moment at

a time. You don’t get two moments or three moments. If you can live one moment totally, you know

the whole secret of life, because always you have only one moment, and you know how to live it.

This kind of life is the only right life, and this kind of life can have a crescendo of a right death. Right

death has to be earned by right living.

But people are wandering everywhere – in the past, in the future, in memories, in dreams – just

missing this small point that this present is the only life you have got. You cannot live your past, it is

no more. You cannot live your future, it is not yet. Live that which is the only possibility: the present.

In fact, past, future and present are divisions of our mind. Time knows only one tense and that is

present. It is always present. Time knows only one place, and that is here. It is always now; it is

never then.

Those who don’t live at the right time cannot die at the right time either, because life and death are

not separate. Either death will be an end of an unfulfilled life, of frustration, of despair, of anguish;

or it will be a fulfillment of joy, of love, of gratitude, of prayer to the whole existence.

BETTER IF HE WERE NEVER TO BE BORN! than not to learn the art of living, than not to reach to

the right point of death.

Zarathustra says, BETTER IF HE WERE NEVER TO BE BORN! – THUS I ADVISE THE

SUPERFLUOUS. Those who don’t know life and don’t know death, are superfluous. They should

not have been born; they have unnecessarily taken the trouble of being born. If you are born, if you

are given the opportunity, then use it to its fullest.

BUT EVEN THE SUPERFLUOUS MAKE A GREAT THING OF THEIR DYING; YES, EVEN THE

HOLLOWEST NUT WANTS TO BE CRACKED. In fact, the more superfluous a man is, the greater

the noise he makes: he wants to make his dying a great thing. He has missed life; only death has

remained.

I was very friendly with one chief minister, the first chief minister of Madhya Pradesh, an old man.

He told me that his only prayer to God was that he should die as the chief minister.

I said, ”What will you gain by that? Death is death, whether you die as a beggar or as a chief

minister.”

He said, ”You don’t understand. If I die as a chief minister my death will be celebrated as a royal

state thing. There will be a few days of holiday; flags will be flown in my honor; my body will be

carried on an army tank; and I will receive my last salutes from the soldiers.”

I said to him, ”It seems you have missed life; otherwise, who bothers when you are dead, whether

your body gets salutes from soldiers, respects from flags, a royal reception, a week’s holiday in the

government offices. What does it matter to you?”

I have always remembered, although he became very old, he insisted on remaining the chief

minister; and he remained the chief minister and he died as the chief minister. That was all that

he was born for – to die as a chief minister, and all those eighty-five or ninety years in between were

just empty.

These are the superfluous – the presidents, the prime ministers. Have you ever thought about what

is happening to Nixon, and what will happen to Ronald Reagan when he is no longer the president?

He cannot be the president again; he has already lost it. People have forgotten Richard Nixon;

people will forget Ronald Reagan. Once a person is in a prestigious post he clings to it; he does not

want to be forgotten.

You will be surprised to know: Before the Russian revolution the prime minster of Russia was a

man named Karensky. He escaped when the revolutionaries took over the country and he lived in

New York running a grocery store. He died in 1960, and up to 1960 nobody ever bothered that this

grocery store owner, a poor man, was once one of the great prime ministers of one of the mightiest

empires, Russia. Only when he died, a small news item appeared in the newspapers: ”Karensky,

who was the prime minister before the Russian revolution, has died.” Only his death made people

aware that he was alive all this time.

The superfluous man has no intrinsic value to his life. That’s why he needs something else to give

it value – his money, his power, his prestige, something from the outside. Nothing from the outside

can make your life richer; nor can it make your death richer. Only the inner, your interior being, your

subjectivity, has the power to make your life a dance, and your death the last and the final and the

greatest dance.

EVERYONE TREATS DEATH AS AN IMPORTANT MATTER: BUT AS YET DEATH IS NOT A

FESTIVAL. Perhaps I am the only person, after the twenty-five centuries since Zarathustra, who

has made death a festival. Only my people celebrate death; otherwise everywhere it is a mourning.

Everywhere it has to be a mourning, because a life unfulfilled, unlived, a wastage.... What is there

to celebrate?

But if your life has been of love, of creativity, of sharing, of joy, if you have not left any part of your

being unlived, your death needs to be a ceremony, a festival.

AS YET, MEN HAVE NOT LEARNED TO CONSECRATE THE FAIREST FESTIVALS.

I SHALL SHOW YOU THE CONSUMMATING DEATH, WHICH SHALL BE A SPUR AND A

PROMISE TO THE LIVING.

THE MAN CONSUMMATING HIS LIFE DIES HIS DEATH TRIUMPHANTLY.

Death should be a triumph, a victory, a coming home. But for that you have to transform your whole

life. You have to live differently – not like a Christian or a Hindu or a Mohammedan – but like a

natural human being, without any fear and without any greed.

Let this moment be enough unto itself. Don’t sacrifice it for something else in the future, and don’t

waste it in remembering sweet past memories.

Create this moment as sweet and as beautiful as you can; and this way, moment to moment, your

life will become a garland of flowers.

And when the garland is complete it is time for death, a death which is a ceremony which is a festival

– ”the fairest of festivals.”

TO DIE THUS IS THE BEST DEATH; BUT THE SECOND BEST IS: TO DIE IN BATTLE AND TO

SQUANDER A GREAT SOUL. If you cannot be the highest possibility in you, if you cannot be a

fulfillment unto yourself, then the second best, Zarathustra suggests, is that at least you can be a

warrior.

The word warrior has lost its old meaning. Now there are no warriors; there are people who will

come like a thief on the plane and drop bombs and escape. These cowards are not warriors.

Scientific technology has destroyed in man so much that it is almost incalculable: for example, the

warrior has disappeared; it is no more needed. Machines can do better jobs, and now, even nuclear

weapons don’t need a pilot. Just Ronald Reagan or his chimpanzee can push the button; the button

is in the White House and a certain missile will start moving, carrying with it death for millions.

In the past the warrior was a dignified human being. He was in every way himself a piece of art.

His swordsmanship or his archery gave him a certain discipline, gave him a certain flexible body –

strong and yet flexible.

You can see in the forest, in the deer, how beautiful their bodies are. You will not find a single deer

who is fat and ugly, not a single deer who is an American. In America there are thirty million people

who are dying because of their fatness, and they go on still eating – they are addicted to food. But

you will not find a single deer... they all look alike.

The warriors were something of the same – their bodies were worth seeing. They took care of their

bodies, they took care of their discipline, and just to be a warrior they needed a certain meditation:

to be alert, to be constantly aware because any moment ... a small fault and you are finished. They

were moving on the razor’s edge; their balance was something to be seen. But those warriors have

disappeared. Now war is an ugly affair; now war is pure destruction; it does not give any value to

humanity.

But the warrior, for thousands of years has given dignity, honor, to his body, to his mind, to his being,

because he has to be absolutely alert, no thoughts can be allowed. He cannot go into the past,

he cannot move into the future, he has to be in the present. It is because of this that in Japan,

swordsmanship and archery became methods of teaching meditation. There is no need to learn

meditation separately – just learn archery and you will become a meditator; just a slight difference.

One German professor, Herrigel, was learning archery in Japan. He was the best archer in Germany.

But in Japan, archery is not simply archery, it is a meditative process. The German was puzzled,

because his idea was that you are a great archer if you are always hitting the bull’s eye, and he was

one hundred percent successful.

But his master would say, ”No, the basic thing is missing. We are not concerned with the bull’s eye;

we are not concerned that your arrow always reaches the target; we are concerned with you.

You should not do anything. You should let the arrow move on its own accord. You should only

provide the situation and then wait, and let it happen.”

This was impossible for the German mind to understand: how can it happen if you don’t pull the

bow, if you don’t do something, and you just stand there with your bow and arrow, how is it going to

happen? And even if it happens, it is not going to hit the target. There you can see the difference

between the West and the East. The Western mind is more concerned with the target, and the

Eastern mind is more concerned with the archer, the warrior.

The master said to him many times, ”Forget about the target. Even if you miss it, it will do. First I

have to fix YOU.”

Herrigel said, ”What else can I do? I am the best archer in my country.”

The master said, ”You may be the best archer in your country, but here you are just amateur.” Three

years, and he could not get the point. It was difficult to get it. Finally, tired, he told his master,

”Tomorrow I am leaving.” The master said, ”I am sorry for you, but before leaving tomorrow, come

back, have tea with me, and then you can go.”

When he came to take tea with him, he was teaching some other disciples archery. So he sat on

the bench and just watched. For the first time, it was none of his concern. For the first time, he was

relaxed; otherwise his tension had been there, day in, day out, he was thinking, how to let it happen?

But today he was sitting in the morning sun, in the garden of the master, relaxed, watching. He saw

the master showing other disciples how they have to allow the arrow to go towards the target: they

are not to force it, they have simply to let it go.

The master took the bow. Herrigel was not tense, he was not concerned, he was leaving, so he

could see more clearly that the master was standing there, absolutely relaxed. As the arrow left the

bow he could see his hands – there was no tension. He could see his face – there was sheer grace.

And out of the blue he could see what is meant by ”let it happen.”

Spontaneously, he stood up, took the bow and arrow from the master’s hand – the master did not

even ask what he is doing – and, without bothering about the target, held the bow and the arrow in a

very relaxed and graceful attitude... the happening. It reached the target. The master said, ”Great,

you have done it. You were not the doer; you allowed it to happen.”

Harrigel writes in his diary: ”The difference was so great. If I had left one day before, I may not have

known the beauty of what my master was telling me for three years untiringly. I was getting tired, but

he was not tired – every day the same thing. But it was my fault. I was tense and my whole concern

was to hit the target, and his whole concern was that I should be in a grace, in a relaxed state. I was

his target.”

The master was immensely happy: ”At least after three years you managed to do it.”

Herrigel said, ”I have not managed anything. I just saw you. I never looked at you. You were

everyday teaching me. I was in my mind thinking all the time, how?, but it is not a question of how.

Because I was so anxious to do it, I could not do it. ”Today there was no anxiety, the mind was silent,

and I saw you for the first time – what grace, what beauty.”

In Japan, swordsmanship and archery have become methods of learning meditation. The warrior in

the past was a beautiful human being, with a body as beautiful as a wild animal’s; with agility and

with great art.

Zarathustra is remembering that if you cannot die as a sage, then at least die as a warrior. That is

the second best death.

BUT EQUALLY HATEFUL TO THE FIGHTER AS TO THE VICTOR IS YOUR GRINNING DEATH,

WHICH COMES CREEPING UP LIKE A THIEF – AND YET COMES AS MASTER.

I COMMEND TO YOU MY SORT OF DEATH, VOLUNTARY DEATH THAT COMES TO ME

BECAUSE I WISH IT.

But if you are not a master of your life, then how can you be the master of your death?

It is a well-known fact in the East that most great sages announce their death beforehand, and

people have misunderstood it: people think that they are predicting, but it is not prediction. They

know that they have come to fulfillment and there is no more in life and there is no more to be

discovered – their journey is complete.

Their declaration, ”After seven days, or after three days, or tomorrow, I am going to die,” is because

they are capable of wishing their death. It is not a prediction. But the whole of the East has been in

this confusion: they think it is a prediction. It is not a prediction at all: they could linger, if they wanted,

a little more, but they don’t want to overdo anything. When something is done to its completion, even

the last touches are completed, then it is time to leave, it is time to say goodbye to the earth.

AND WHEN SHALL I WISH IT? – HE WHO HAS A GOAL AND AN HEIR WANTS DEATH AT THE

TIME MOST FAVORABLE TO HIS GOAL AND HIS HEIR....

MANY A ONE GROWS TOO OLD EVEN FOR HIS TRUTHS AND VICTORIES; A TOOTHLESS

MOUTH HAS NO LONGER THE RIGHT TO EVERY TRUTH.

AND EVERYONE WHO WANTS GLORY MUST TAKE LEAVE OF HONOUR IN GOOD TIME AND

PRACTISE THE DIFFICULT ART OF – GOING AT THE RIGHT TIME....

I WISH PREACHERS OF SPEEDY DEATH WOULD COME! THEY WOULD BE THE FITTING

STORM AND SHAKERS OF THE TREES OF LIFE! BUT I HEAR PREACHED ONLY SLOW DEATH

AND PATIENCE WITH ALL ‘EARTHLY THINGS’....

IF ONE ONLY REMAINED IN THE DESERT AND FAR FROM THE GOOD AND JUST! PERHAPS

HE WOULD HAVE LEARNED TO LIVE AND LEARNED TO LOVE THE EARTH – AND LAUGHTER

AS WELL!...

THAT YOUR DEATH MAY NOT BE A BLASPHEMY AGAINST MAN AND THE EARTH, MY

FRIENDS: THAT IS WHAT I BEG FROM THE HONEY OF YOUR SOUL.

IN YOUR DEATH, YOUR SPIRIT AND YOUR VIRTUE SHOULD STILL GLOW LIKE A SUNSET

GLOW AROUND THE EARTH: OTHERWISE YOURS IS A BAD DEATH.

THUS I WANT TO DIE MYSELF, THAT YOU FRIENDS MAY LOVE THE EARTH MORE FOR MY

SAKE; AND I WANT TO BECOME EARTH AGAIN, THAT I MAY HAVE PEACE IN HER WHO BORE

ME.

TRULY, ZARATHUSTRA HAD A GOAL, HE THREW HIS BALL: NOW MAY YOU FRIENDS BE THE

HEIRS OF MY GOAL, I THROW THE GOLDEN BALL TO YOU.

BUT BEST OF ALL I LIKE TO SEE YOU, TOO, THROWING ON THE GOLDEN BALL, MY

FRIENDS! SO I SHALL STAY ON EARTH A LITTLE LONGER: FORGIVE ME FOR IT!

Zarathustra is incomparable in many of his insights. This can be one of the greatest lessons: that if

you want a glorious death, not an ugly and contemptible one, you should start living from this very

moment. Totality should be your concern: living totally, burning your torch of life from both ends

together. By the time you feel fulfilled, you will be able to die totally. You will not cling to life.

I have seen many people die. They die like beggars, clinging; they don’t want to die because they

have not lived yet, and death has come. But when there was life, they wasted it. Now that death has

knocked on their doors they have become aware of the wastage of life.

But a man who has lived totally will open the doors, will welcome death, because death is not your

enemy. It is simply a change of house: from one body into another, from one form into another or,

ultimately, from form to the formless life that surrounds the earth. A religious man not only lives

religiously, he dies religiously. A man of art lives artfully, and lives not only artfully, but dies too with

great art.

One Zen master was asking his disciples – his time of death had come – and he said, ”Before I go I

want to discover some unique way to die. You know me. I don’t want any repeating, copying, being

just a follower of somebody. Tell me, is there some way that I can die uniquely?”

One man suggested, ”Perhaps you can die sitting in a lotus posture?” But others said, ”Many sages

have died sitting in a lotus posture, so that is not new.” Somebody said, ”You can die standing.” And

they were talking as if it was just a playfulness – it should be playfulness – but one man objected.

He said, ”I know about a sage who died standing.”

Then somebody else suggested, ”Then there is only one way. You stand on your head! Die standing

on your head, I don’t think anybody has done that before.” The master said, ”That seems to be good,

so goodbye fellows.” And he stood on his head, and died.

Now the disciples were at a loss. They knew what to do with a dead body when the dead body

was lying on the bed, but they had no precedents of a man standing on his head, and dead. ”What

should we do with him? And if he was so unique, the old fellow should have told us also what we

should do afterwards.”

Somebody suggested, ”His elder sister is also a great master. She is a nun, lives in the nearby

monastery. It is better to call her because we may do something inappropriate, and that doesn’t

seem right to do something inappropriate to your own master when he is dead.”

Somebody ran; and the sister, older than the man, came with great anger and she was shouting

from the door, ”He has been a nuisance all his life, never behaved the way people are expected to

behave. But at least I never thought that in dying also he will be a nuisance. Where is he?” So the

crowd gave way to her, and she told him, ”Bokoju, you idiot! You have become enlightened, but you

don’t forget your mischievousness. Get down from this posture and lie down on the bed in a proper

way.”

Bokoju had to; an elder sister cannot be disobeyed. The people could not believe it. They had

checked in every way – his breathing had gone, his heart had stopped. He came back and he lay

down on the bed and he said to his sister, ”Okay, you can go now, I will die in a proper way.”

The sister went away, and he died in a proper way. They again checked. It was exactly the same: no

breathing, no heartbeat. The man must have been waiting at the fourth stage, knowing or watching

from that depth what his disciples would do now. And seeing them in a great dilemma, he must have

enjoyed it immensely.

To die in such a beautiful way, as if you are playing, should be a simple thing for all those who have

lived perfectly and totally. Bokoju made death also a beautiful experience, not only for himself but

for others too.

... THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA.

Okay, Maneesha?