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Part VII : Osho’s Jokes
Osho has indicated that his discourses would become more illogical,
irrational, more like poetry. Sometimes Osho's words in discourses
and darshans are published in verse form. At this time he tells
many jokes.
Life is not economics, nor is it politics. It is a poetry, and
the poetry is by its very nature, by its very definition, illogical.
The poetry is beautiful because there are sudden leaps and jumps.
The prose is not so beautiful, because there are no sudden jumps
and leaps. The prose moves on plain ground, in a logical sequence.
Sooner or later, when you are ready, I am going to drop talking
in a sequential way. Sooner or later, when my sannyasins are ready,
my talks will be more like a collage. You will have to find out
what he means. You will have to find out your own meaning. I will
say a few things, but I will go on jumping and I will not connect
as I connect right now. Once you are ready—more attentive,
more aware, more alert—I will not connect with logic, I
will drop the logic. The unity will be there, but not on the surface.
The unity will be there because they will all be my statements—the
unity will consist in me. And the unity will be there because
they are to be understood by your awareness—the unity will
come in your awareness. But taken directly, if a visitor comes,
he will think this man is mad. Right now I connect. I connect
because I know you will not be able to understand the absurd yet.
I am waiting for the day you are ready, so I can be as absurd
as life is.
Have you seen anywhere any symmetry in nature? It is not there.
Man makes things in a symmetrical way. If he makes a house he
makes it symmetrical. But in nature there is no symmetry. A great
pine tree, and just by the side a small rosebush. And you cannot
ask what is the connection between the rosebush and the pine tree.
Existence will laugh; it will say, "Who said that there is
any need for any connection? The rosebush is a rosebush and the
pine is a pine—and both are happy. There is no need to bridge
them."
Sooner or later I am going to become just like life; I will
say something and then I will forget about it and I will tell
a joke which is completely unrelated. Then it is for you to work
it out. Then it will be more beautiful, certainly more beautiful,
because it will be more playful. That is the meaning of a collage,
so many fragments from so many dimensions together. On the surface,
no unity; but if you look deep there is an organic unity. That
unity exists in the painter, not in the painting.
If you really want to know the meaning of the poetry, you will
have to go deep into the heart of the poet. For prose you need
not go into the heart. Prose is plain, prose is worldly, prose
is of the marketplace, prose is human. Poetry is divine. That's
why all the great scriptures of the world are in poetry—the
Upanishads, the Vedas, the Koran, Dhammapada. They are all poetry,
beautiful poetry, outpourings of a singing heart. Logic, there
is none; love, there is much. ecstas02
You ask: Why are You not serious? Why are You always joking?
God is not serious—what can I do? God is always joking.
Look at your own life—it is a joke! Look at other people's
lives, and you will find jokes and jokes and jokes.
Seriousness is illness; seriousness has nothing spiritual about
it. Spirituality is laughter, spirituality is joy, spirituality
is fun. come07
Just the other day one person has written to me, "You must
be the first enlightened one who is telling jokes." Yes,
that is true—at least I can claim that much originality!
Otherwise it is very difficult to claim any originality in this
world; there is nothing new under the sun. For millions and millions
of years man has existed and thousands and thousands of enlightened
people have existed; they have done almost everything that can
be done. I was really searching what to do—something new!
Then I stumbled upon jokes. I said, "This is right!"
dh0408
You ask: Are you pushing my pleasure button? When I sit in lecture
I am all smiles and it takes me hours to wipe it off my face.
You fool! Why do you try to wipe it off? I make so much effort
to create it and you take hours to wipe it off! Never do it again—so
that it becomes something permanent, something essential with
you, something natural, something that surrounds you.
But I know people are afraid of smiling, because if you are caught
red-handed by others smiling for no reason at all, they think
you are crazy. So people repress their smiles. That's why you
must have been trying to wipe it off.
But when I push the button I really push the button, and now I
am going to push harder! You will not be able to wipe it off even
if you make effort for hours or for days! Enjoy it! And what does
it matter if people think you are crazy? Why be worried about
it? There is nothing wrong in being crazy. Here, at least, everything
is crazy!
Just the other day somebody asked, "Osho, there are so many
clocks in the ashram. Why do they all show different times?"
Just crazy—cuckoo clocks! And if they all show the same
time, then what would be the need for so many clocks? Then one
would be enough! inzen05
What I am trying to show you is this: that we laugh only when
there is some reason which is forcing us to laugh. A joke is told,
and you laugh—because a joke creates a certain excitement
in you. The whole mechanism of a joke is: the story goes in one
direction, and suddenly it takes a turn; the turn is so sudden,
so drastic, that you could not have imagined it. Excitement grows
and you are waiting for the punchline. And then suddenly, whatsoever
you were expecting is never there—something absolutely different,
something very absurd and ridiculous, never fulfilling your expectation.
A joke is never logical. If a joke is logical it will lose all
its sense of laughter, the quality of laughter, because then you
will be able to predict. Then by the time the joke is being said,
you will have reached the punchline because it will be a syllogism,
it will be simple arithmetic. But then it will not have any laughter.
A joke takes a sudden turn, so sudden that it was almost impossible
for you to imagine it, to infer it. It takes a jump, a leap, a
quantum leap—and that's why it releases so much laughter.
It is a subtle psychological way to tickle you.
I have to tell jokes because, I am afraid, you are all religious
people. You tend to be serious. I have to tickle you so sometimes
you forget your religiousness, you forget all your philosophies,
theories, systems, and you fall down to earth. I have to bring
you back to the earth again and again, otherwise you will tend
to become serious, more and more serious. And seriousness is a
canceric growth….
Now, even medical science says that laughter is one of the most
deep-going medicines nature has provided man with. If you can
laugh when you are ill you will get your health back sooner. If
you cannot laugh, even if you are healthy, sooner or later you
will lose your health and you will become ill.
Laughter brings some energy from your inner source to your surface.
Energy starts flowing, follows laughter like a shadow. Have you
watched it? When you really laugh, for those few moments you are
in a deep meditative state. Thinking stops. It is impossible to
laugh and think together. They are diametrically opposite: either
you can laugh or you can think. If you really laugh, thinking
stops. If you are still thinking, laughter will be just so-so,
it will be just so-so, lagging behind. It will be a crippled laughter.
When you really laugh, suddenly mind disappears. And the whole
Zen methodology is how to get into no-mind—laughter is one
of the beautiful doors to get to it.
As far as I know, dancing and laughter are the best, natural,
easily approachable doors. If you really dance, thinking stops.
You go on and on, you whirl and whirl, and you become a whirlpool—all
boundaries, all divisions are lost. You don't even know where
your body ends and where the existence begins. You melt into existence
and the existence melts into you; there is an overlapping of boundaries.
And if you are really dancing—not managing it but allowing
it to manage you, allowing it to possess you—if you are
possessed by dance, thinking stops.
The same happens with laughter. If you are possessed by laughter,
thinking stops. And if you know a few moments of no-mind, those
glimpses will promise you many more rewards that are going to
come. You just have to become more and more of the sort, of the
quality, of no-mind. More and more, thinking has to be dropped.
Laughter can be a beautiful introduction to a non-thinking state.
thund09
And I have to tell jokes, because the things that I am saying
are so subtle, so deep and profound, that if I simply go on telling
you those things, you will fall asleep and you will not be able
to listen or to understand. You will remain almost deaf.
The profounder the truth I have to tell you, the worst joke I
choose for it. The highest the truth I am trying to relate, then
the lowest I have to go in search for a joke. That's why even
dirty jokes…I don't bother. Even a dirty joke can be helpful—more
so because it can shock you to the very roots, to the very guts.
And that's the whole point! It helps you to come again and again
to your alertness. When I see you are alert, I again go relating
that which I would like to relate to you. When I see again you
are slipping into your sleep, I have to bring in a joke again.
If you really listen with alertness, there will be no need—I
can say the truth directly. But it is difficult. You start yawning…and
it is better to laugh than to yawn. trans302
The insistence in the East is on god's sweetness, his loving qualities,
his feminine face. In the East god is depicted as a dancer, as
a lover, a flute player, a singer. He is not a very ferocious
father-figure, sitting on a golden throne, just waiting for you
to be caught and punished and thrown into hell, for small, tiny
reasons…in fact, silly reasons that don't mean much.
What great sins can man do? Somebody drinks alcohol, somebody
smokes cigarettes, somebody plays cards and somebody has fallen
in love with somebody else's wife—things like that. What
do you call it in Italian? 'Peccadillos'?…
Peccadillos? That's right…just small sins. God must be very
mean if he counts these things, really mean.
The Eastern concept is that god is love, sweet. Yes, god is your
uncle. And god is not an earthquake but a flute player. From there
you can start becoming more and more available to god. halle19
love is juice
we in the east have defined god
as god has been defined nowhere else
i have never come across a better definition
and i don't think there exists any
the upanishads say raso vai saha—god is juice
this is a very strange definition
sometimes i wonder
i may have written that upanishad
maybe in a past life
otherwise who would do it?
i cannot find anybody else doing it clapp13
Osho recommends laughing at oneself rather than others; he often
makes jokes about himself
If you can laugh at yourself, everything is okay. People laugh
at others, but never laugh at themselves. It has to be learned.
If you can laugh at yourself, seriousness is already gone. It
cannot make its abode within you if you are capable of laughing
at yourself.
In Zen monasteries every monk has to laugh. The first thing in
the morning to do is to laugh, the very first thing. The moment
the monk becomes aware that he is no longer asleep, he has to
jump out of bed, stand in a posture like a buffoon, like a circus
joker, and start laughing, laughing at himself. There cannot be
any better beginning of the day.
Laughing at oneself kills the ego and you are more transparent,
more light, when you move in the world. And if you have laughed
at yourself, then others' laughter toward you won't disturb you.
In fact they are simply cooperating, they are doing the same thing
that you were doing. You will feel happy.
To laugh at others is egoistic; to laugh at oneself is very humble.
Learn to laugh at yourself—about your seriousness and things
like that….
Let the laughter be a belly laughter, not a head-thing. One can
laugh from the head: then it is dead. From the head everything
is dead; the head is absolutely mechanical. You can laugh from
the head: then your head will create the laughter, but it will
not go deep in the belly to the hara. It will not go to your toes,
it will not go to your whole body. A real laugh is just like a
small child laughs. Watch his belly shaking, his whole body throbbing
with it—he wants to roll on the floor. It is a question
of totality. He laughs so much that he starts crying; he laughs
so deeply that the laughter becomes tears, tears come out of him.
A laughter should be deep and total. This is the medicine that
I prescribe for seriousness…. foll104
What is Your message in short?
Buddha's message in short is: Be a light unto yourself. And mine?
Be a joke unto yourself! wisdom28
What is your English—British or American?
It is certainly not British. To be British is not easy. One has
to be born British at least seven times. It takes a very long
time to be British. And it is not American either because I am
not a tourist. You know I don't even leave my room—what
kind of American can I be?
And why should my English be British or American? My English is
my English—Osho English! And this is a democratic country
and the constitution declares freedom of speech as one of the
fundamental rights. I speak my own language. Why should I speak
American or English? In fact, English is too uptight, it is too
tense, and American has become too lousy—just the opposite;
it is a reaction….
So I simply speak whatsoever way comes to me, whatsoever way comes
spontaneously to me. You will have to be a little patient with
me inzen10
Why did You decide to speak instead of writing Your philosophy?
My spelling is far worse than my pronunciation! dh0910
Beloved Osho, Don't You know how to count? One day after the fourth
question You said, "Now the seventh question."
It is really difficult for me. You should be happy that I don't
say after the seventh, "The first question."…
It is really difficult for me to count. I cannot count on my fingers.
To keep my fingers at the back will be very difficult, and I don't
have pockets! wisdom27
Why do you make so many mistakes when you quote other people or
refer to Biblical events or to scientific discoveries? I have
answered this question many times myself in various ways. Now
I would like to hear your answer.
So allow me to commit a few more mistakes.
First: my memory is marvellous.
Mulla Nasruddin was talking to a man and he said 'My wife has
a very bad memory.'
And the man asked 'Do you mean she forgets everything?'
Mulla Nasruddin said 'No, she remembers everything!'
If Mulla Nasruddin's wife has a bad memory, I have a marvellous
memory. I forget everything. And I enjoy this forgetfulness; I
am not worried about it.
Secondly: I am an ignorant person. I am not a scholar. I enjoy
reading books, but I read the Bible, the Gita, the Koran just
as one reads novels; they are ancient, beautiful stories. Krishnamurti
says he never reads any scripture; he reads only detective stories.
I read the scripture, but I read in the scripture just the detective
story and nothing else. And I would suggest to Krishnamurti that
it would be good if he should look into the Bible; you cannot
find a more beautiful story full of suspense. Everything is there:
love, life, murder; everything is there. It is very sensational.
Scriptures, to me, have nothing special. Scriptures are as sacred
as the trees and the rocks and the stars—or as secular.
I don't make a distinction so I am not very serious about scriptures.
The only thing I am serious about is jokes. So when I quote the
scripture I quote from memory, when I quote a joke I have it written
here in front of me. I never want to make any mistake about the
joke—I am really serious. About everything else I am absolutely
non-serious….
Scholars become too serious. I am not a scholar and I have no
respect for scholars. In fact my attitude is exactly the same
as Mulla Nasruddin's.
Once it happened:
A man came to Mulla Nasruddin and said 'Nasruddin. have you heard?
The great scholar of the town has died and twenty rupees are needed
to bury him.'
Mulla gave him a hundred rupee note and said 'Take it, and while
you are doing it, why not bury five?
'Remember, these scholars are very calculating and cunning people—bury
them as deep as possible, otherwise they will come back. And if
you need more money, come to me, don't be shy about it!' I am
neither a scholar nor am I in any way respectful towards scholars
or scholarship. That is all bullshit.
I was reading a beautiful poem by E.Y. Harburg. A few lines are
of tremendous import. Meditate over them.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree;
And only God who makes the tree
Also makes the fools like me.
But only fools like me, you see,
Can make a God, who makes a tree.
I am tremendously ignorant, and I am happy as I am, and I have
no idea to improve upon myself. So if sometimes you are in an
awkward situation: somebody says that 'Osho has said this and
this is not correct'. It is your problem: then your Master is
found faulty; you feel a little disturbed, your ego is hurt. As
far as I am concerned I am perfectly okay. And I will continue
to create problems for you! Now you find the answers: invent something,
be a little imaginative or inventive. When I can invent so much,
why can't you? You can find some esoteric, occult meaning in it.
It is always easy: when you cannot find anything else, always
try to find some esoteric, occult meaning in it—there must
be….
Don't be bothered too much about facts there are none, all are
fictions. Remember, all are fictions, even my being here and your
being here is a tremendous fiction. Nothing ever happens. Truth
is. All that happens is fictitious; history is a fiction because
whatsoever is, is… nothing ever happens there. God has no
history and God has no biography. God only is, there is no 'was'
and there is no 'will be'. There is no past and no future. tao110
You say: I have heard that you sometimes make up questions to
fit your jokes. Is this so? Please be truthful!
It is very difficult for me to be truthful. I don't believe in
anything, not even in truth! I am not a serious person at all!
I believe in playfulness. So…how does it matter whose question
it is? And do you think when you write a question it is better
than when I write a question? And do you think that when you are
writing a question you are really writing or am I writing through
you?
If I have to tell a joke tomorrow I can say something today and
many questions will come tomorrow! There is really no need for
me to write them—I can create questions in you; there is
no difficulty. Otherwise, how do these many many questions come?
But you seem to be serious. And I am serious only about jokes!
I am not serious about anything else. That's why you never see
me laughing at the jokes—I am really serious!—because
jokes are not a laughing matter. It is not a laughing matter.
It is not a joke! It is one of the most serious things in life,
in fact, the only serious thing.
You ask me: I have heard that you sometimes make up…
Sometimes! Always, every day! because whenever I come across a
good joke I cannot wait for tomorrow. Who knows? Tomorrow may
come, may not come. I may not be here, you may not be here—and
the joke has to be told!…
And you ask me: Is this so? Please be truthful!
Even this question is invented by me! What more truth is needed
to prove it? You have not asked it, but I have answered it! guida10
You ask: I overheard someone say that you had problems—do
you?
Not one but many—you are my problems, one hundred thousand
problems! And as sannyasins will be coming more and more, the
problems will go on growing. Each sannyasin brings many problems.
And I am here: you can surrender your problems to me. I can take
all of your problems because I have none of my own. And because
I have none of my own, you can drop your problems into me and
they disappear. They have no place to cling to. They simply disappear
into the abyss that I have become. fish15
You ask: What did we do to deserve you as our guru, our master?
I don't know anything about you, but I must have done terrible
karma to deserve you! trans202
Are You a black magician or a white magician?
I am an orange one. dh0606
Can a madman become a Buddha?
Only a madman can become a Buddha! The so-called sane people at
the most can become Buddhists but not Buddhas, they can become
Christians but not Christs. Only a madman….
My invitation is for the mad people of the world. I am a madman's
guide to enlightenment! goose09
What is Your dogma?
Peter, I believe you must be a tourist here; otherwise you cannot
ask such a question. I don't have any dogma. In the first place
I don't like dogs at all! And 'dogma' means mother of dogs! Neither
do I like any sonofabitch, nor do I like any mother of dogs! There
are Christian dogmas and Hindu dogmas and Mohammedan dogmas, and
what do they do? They go on barking at each other! I don't have
any dogma at all. Even my kids understand it here, my small sannyasins.
You can ask them. dh1206
Do you partake of intoxicating beverages?
How can I answer this question?—because before I answer
I must know if it is an enquiry or an invitation! parad108
Why are you called the Master of Masters?
It is a difficult question. I had to look in the Akashic records,
and not in the past Akashic records—because it is not recorded
there—but in the future Akashic records. This is a future
story. Listen carefully.
It happened in Moksha, the ultimate resting place of the awakened
ones. A journalist for the local newspaper, The Nirvana Timeless,
was desperately seeking material to fill up the center page of
the next edition which was due to appear in twenty-five hundred
years. There was not much news around in Moksha, and soon he realized
that he would have to make something up himself if the center
page was not to be left empty again, as it had been for countless
ages.
Finally, he hit on the idea of choosing which of the many Buddhas,
Arhatas, Bodhisattvas, Christs, Kutubs and other enlightened beings
abounding in the lotus paradise was the Master of Masters—in
short, a spiritual Mr. Universe competition.
He summoned all the enlightened ones together and asked them to
encapsulate in a short phrase the essence of their teaching, which
would entitle them to the title of Master of Masters. There was,
as usual, a deep silence which lasted a few hundred years. Finally
a Zen Master stood forward and hit the journalist hard on the
head. This was considered to be well deserved, but not very original.
Another hundred years passed and then a Sufi stood up and began
to whirl. Unfortunately he was out of training, and after a couple
of months he fell flat on his face, causing some merriment among
the Hassidic Masters, who had been surreptitiously pouring oil
on the floor to bring the uppity Arab down.
After some goading by Manjushree and Subhuti, Buddha slowly stood
up and addressed the gathering in the following way: "There
is no teaching and no one to be taught. There is no Master and
nothing to master. Nothing can be said; there is no one to hear
it." Then he held up a flower and Mahakashyap giggled as
usual. Many applauded the Buddha, but to the journalist it did
not appear like the kind of news which would help him to sell
his paper.
One after another the enlightened ones came forward to make their
bids for the title. Moses gave a few new commandments. Bodhidharma
stared at a wall for ninety years. Jesus made a mountain out of
a molehill, and delivered a sermon from it. Diogenes displayed
his suntan. Shiva and Parvati ran through one hundred twelve new
positions they had invented. Gurdjieff drank twenty bottles of
brandy, then walked on his hands on a tightrope over the plenum
void, smiling with the left side of his face and grimacing with
the right. Lao Tzu had a good belly laugh at all these antics.
Mansoor would not stop shouting, "Ana'l Haq! Ana'l Haq!"
and finally had to be put in a straitjacket and given a couple
of valium. Vatsyayana gave himself a blow job to demonstrate existentially
that sex and samadhi were manifestations of the same energy—and
so on.
It proved impossible to choose which of the awakened ones was
the Master of Masters, since even the journalist had attained
to choiceless awareness long ago. But the day seemed saved when
Teertha, a relative newcomer from England, stood up and declared
with typical British diplomacy, "The greatest Master is the
one who has yet to come." Suddenly an Indian mahatma jumped
to his feet and cried triumphantly, "Then that must be me—for
I have been celibate for eighty-four million lives."
By unanimous agreement the awakened ones decided that the mahatma's
samadhi was not yet "seedless", and he was dispelled
back to samsara to spill his seed once and for all.
Just as the mahatma disappeared from sight, Osho came out of his
room, where he had been sitting all this time, and made his way
towards a small marble podium in the corner of the hall. A deathly
hush gripped the audience, and even Mansoor shut up. If a look
of dread could be said to cloud those tranquil eyes, this is what
happened to the gathering.
As Osho sat down and leaned towards the microphone, a cry arose
from Mahavira, "Wait! Wait! We proclaim you Master of Masters!
Now please go back to your room."
Osho smiled innocently and left the hall. There was a sigh of
relief.
The journalist turned to Mahavira in consternation: "I don't
understand. Why did he get the title? What did he do?"
"Nothing," said Mahavira, "but last time he spoke
here it took us seven hundred years to get him to stop, and send
him to Poona!" ggate210
Ethnic Jokes
Osho teases sannyasins, and makes jokes about ethnic origins
You ask: Are there great differences between the different races
of mankind?
Essentially there are no differences at all. Essentially there
cannot be any differences. The whole of mankind is one species
of being. But different races have evolved different qualities.
They have lived in different climates, they have encountered different
situations, they have passed through different histories; naturally
they have learned to behave in different ways….
So there are great differences on the surface—and the surface
is all that comes in contact with others. Intrinsically no two
human beings are different; in their innermost core all human
beings are just human beings.
So we have to understand both things. Essentially, all human beings
are one, but accidentally they are not one. And it is not bad
that they are not one. Variety is beautiful, it enriches the world,
it makes the world more beautiful. It will be an ugly world where
only Hindus live, where only Jews live, or where only Negroes
live. It will lose all charm, it will lose all beauty.
It is such a beautiful mess…. Italians and Polacks and the
Germans and the French, and they all have their own ways, their
own understandings, and they have all developed different styles.
So although everybody, every human being belongs to one species,
still we have been able to create a variety—different flowerings
on the same bush. It makes the world really rich. I would not
like to destroy these differences, I would like to enhance them—still
with this understanding that human beings are human beings. Nobody
is higher and nobody is lower; we should drop the idea of hierarchy,
but variety is good. dh1208
I love Italians—as much as I love others—but naturally
many people are feeling jealous of Italians, for the simple reason
that I am telling so many jokes about Italians. But the reason
is not that I love Italians more than the Dutch or the Australians;
the reason is simply that my librarian happens to be Lalita, an
Italian, so she goes on finding Italian jokes for me! So rather
than you desiring to be an Italian, just desire that I may get
one assistant for Lalita from every country. In the new commune,
I am thinking Lalita must have at least a dozen assistants! But
beware of having this desire….
Just the other day all the orange Italians and all the orange
Polacks gathered together to decide who is really the greatest.
Of course, there was no question of intellectual discussion…it
had to be something existential! So they decided to go to the
football ground by the side of the railway station and play football—whoever
wins….
For two hours everything happened—except football. Karate
chops were flying and yoga was done and boxing and wrestling and
Dynamic Meditation and Kundalini Meditation. And they had forgotten
completely that they needed a few referees as well; there were
no referees at all.
After two hours even the football lying by the side started laughing!
"What is happening?" Then a train passed by and hearing
the whistle of the train the Italians thought the game was over,
so they left the ground, thinking, "We are equal and the
game is over."
But the Polacks were bent upon winning, and now, because the sun
was going down, the game became even more fierce. And finally
after one hour's effort the Polacks were able to score one goal—without
the Italians, but that doesn't matter! dh1206
Pope John Paul has stated recently that if a man looked lustfully
even at the woman who is his wife he could likewise commit adultery
in his heart. What do you say about it?
What can be said about it? A Polack is a Polack is a Polack! Pope
or no pope, a Polack remains a Polack. Now this is the ultimate
in stupidity, one cannot surpass it: even to look at your own
wife with desire is adultery! Then why in the first place one
should get married? Just to commit adultery?
In a way he has made a very difficult thing simple. One of Milan's
newspapers seems to be far more wiser. The newspaper writes: "Life
is hard for the adulterer—an endless round of cover-ups,
tricks, juggling of the daily calendar and the need to buy useless
and expensive presents for two women at once. Now the Pope has
removed all these vows, because you can have infidelity in your
own house!" This seems to be far more intelligent. It is
really beautiful and juicy to have adultery with your own wife.
A great idea!
But these repressed people are bound to do such things.
I have come to know that for the whole year, the whole past year,
in his every weekly sermon he has been talking about sex—for
the whole year condemning, condemning…Now why he should
be so much concerned about sex, for one year continuously condemning?
There must be something inside him, some wound which has not healed.
ithat16
You have sussed me out. Now is the time to tell my dreaded secret!
I am one of Your Polacks. What to do?
Prem Veechi, that's the most beautiful thing about Polacks I love
and like. You are not the first Polack who has declared it. Asha
wrote a note saying that, "Beloved Master, I am also a Polack."
Anupama wrote a note saying that her lover, Amitabh, is a Polack.
And many others. This is beautiful!
And see what the British are doing. One British lady, Prem Lisa,
has written saying, "We are superior so what can we do?"
Veechi, it is beautiful to be a Polack. It is beautiful to be
a little foolish, not so superior as the British. dh1202
So many questions have come from British ladies and British gentlemen
saying, "The British lady is just a myth and you should not
be so interested in a myth. It is not a reality—the British
lady exists nowhere." But these same people believe that
the Polack exists, the Italian exists, the Jew exists. They are
not myths, because when I am joking about Jews or Italians or
Polacks, no British lady or gentleman writes to me that these
are myths—they are realities.
Now, no Jew, no Italian, no Polack is writing to me that the British
lady is a myth. Why are only the British writing to me about it?
Can't you see the point? And if it is a myth—and I know
it is a myth!—why not enjoy it? Why become so much worried
about it? Somewhere deep down you believe it is not a myth, otherwise
why? Have a good laugh and it is finished!
But your concern to make me aware of the fact that the British
lady does not exist…I know it! I am surrounded by British
ladies! I have more British ladies around me than I have Jews
or Polacks or Italians. I know it is a myth—but a beautiful
myth! dh1203
Nobody here wants to be forgotten. I am being reminded every day.
The Australians are writing every day, "Have you forgotten
us?" Norwegians, Swedish, Swiss, they are all writing letters,
"Beloved Master, when is our turn coming?" dh1204
People are shocked at Osho's Jokes
Is there any joke that even you would not dare to tell?
I have never come across any such joke yet. If you can find one,
send it to me! To me all jokes are beautiful—the more outrageous
they are the more beautiful—because my work here consists
of shattering all your conceptions, your prejudices. So there
is not a single joke that I have come across which I would not
dare to tell. There is no question of daring—I simply enjoy!
zzzzz09
You say: In the past few days you have told some jokes that shocked
me.
But good—that at least one person is not asleep here. But
you misinterpreted. It is natural because interpretations come
from our own mind. He misinterpreted because he thought that they
are crude and racist, because I joke so much about Jews.
I love Jews! I am myself an old Jew, so it is difficult for me
to forget them. They are the most beautiful people on the earth,
hence so many jokes exist about them. And jokes exist because
Jews are so intelligent. You joke only about a certain community
because you cannot compete with it. The joke is a compensation.
Jews are really intelligent, one of the most intelligent races
in the world, and everybody feels incompetent with them—then
you take revenge in your jokes. Jokes are very indicative. They
don't say anything about the object of the joke, they simply say
who has created the joke; they say something about who has created
the joke. Wherever Jews exist people joke about them—because
there is no other way to take revenge; in actual life they are
far superior. It happens always.
So your interpretation is your interpretation. You think that
I am against Jews or something? I am a lover. But I can understand.
You say, 'These are the stories I told when I was a boy. And when
I told them it was with cruel intentions.' So of course you must
be projecting your own cruel intentions on me. The stories may
be the same, but the storyteller is not the same. Remember that,
don't forget it.
Ordinarily Buddhas have never joked. It is for the first time
a Buddha is joking. It is something very new, so you are a little
puzzled. But to me everything is sacred. There is nothing profane.
From sex to sahasrar, I accept everything. My acceptance is total.
My acceptance is absolute.
So sometimes the joke can look crude, it can look obscene, but
to me, nothing is obscene. Everything is just beautiful as it
is. The obscene is an interpretation of the mind.
Drop your interpretation. The shock is very good, but interpretation
has to be dropped otherwise you will misunderstand me, and you
will miss an opportunity….
All my jokes are there purposefully to shock you, and those people
who are very weak, weaklings, they have disappeared. They don't
come to listen to me, they cannot come. Now only people who are
courageous and who are ready to absorb these shocks can come close
to me. But that is done knowingly. trans106
Are You an anti-Semite?
Levin, me? An anti-Semite? You must be crazy! dh1004
I feel shocked when You use the word 'fuck'. What to do?
It is one of the most beautiful words. The English language should
be proud of it. I don't think any other language has such a beautiful
word.
One Tom from California has done some great research on it. I
think he must be the famous Tom of Tom, Dick and Harry fame….
He says:
One of the most interesting words in the English language today
is the word 'fuck'. It is one magical word: just by its sound
it can describe pain, pleasure, hate and love. In language it
falls into many grammatical categories. It can be used as a verb,
both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive (Mary was
fucked by John), and as a noun (Mary is a fine fuck). It can be
used as an adjective (Mary is fucking beautiful). As you can see
there are not many words with the versatility of 'fuck'.
Besides the sexual meaning, there are also the following uses:
Fraud: I got fucked at the used car lot.
Ignorance: Fucked if I know.
Trouble: I guess I am fucked now!
Aggression: Fuck you!
Displeasure: What the fuck is going on here?
Difficulty: I can't understand this fucking job.
Incompetence: He is a fuck-off.
Suspicion: What the fuck are you doing?
Enjoyment: I had a fucking good time.
Request: Get the fuck out of here!
Hostility: I am going to knock your fucking head off!
Greeting: How the fuck are you?
Apathy: Who gives a fuck?
Innovation: Get a bigger fucking hammer.
Surprise: Fuck! You scared the shit out of me!
Anxiety: Today is really fucked.
And it is very healthy too. If every morning you do it as a Transcendental
Meditation—just when you get up, the first thing, repeat
the mantra "Fuck you!" five times—it clears the
throat. That's how I keep my throat clear! dh1104
One Indian friend has written—his name is Iqbal Kureshi—he
says: Osho, what you say between the jokes is beautiful, religious
and spiritual, but the jokes destroy your image in the public
eye. After all, what is the purpose of all these jokes?
Iqbal Kureshi, that's exactly the purpose: to destroy the image!
I don't want to be known as a saint—that's exactly the purpose.
And I am not worried about what others think of me—I am
not a politician. Only politicians are worried, continuously worried,
about what others are thinking about them, because they have to
depend on others—the others have the votes. I don't depend
on anybody's votes, anybody's opinion. I am simply whatsoever
I am. Why should I be bothered about my image?
The very worry about the image is egoistic, but your saints
are worried, I know that. I have known all kinds of your saints—Hindu,
Mohammedan, Christian, Sikh Jainas, Buddhists—I have come
across all kinds of your saints. They are far more political than
your politicians, because this very idea is politics: what people
are thinking, remain respectable. Respectability is nothing but
nourishment for the ego.
I don't want to be respectable. Either you love me or you don't
love me; respect is simply meaningless. Respect and the desire
for it is egoistic. So those who love me, they will love me as
I am. I am not going to compromise, I am not going to accommodate.
And I could create that accommodation so easily: I could not use
a few words—'fuck' and 'shit'—and I could become a
saint. You see how cheap it is! But I am not interested in such
cheap saintliness. If I am a saint then whatsoever I say is saintly;
if I am not a saint then I may go on reciting the Gita and the
Koran and the Vedas but I am not a saint, I am just a parrot.
I am not interested at all in mirrors. I know my original face—and
the original face is not known through mirrors. Public opinion
is only a mirror.
Iqbal Kureshi must be worried about my image. He says, "It
puts your image upside-down." What is wrong with being upside-down?
That's what they call in yoga sirshasan—the headstand. And
as far as I am concerned, I know that you are upside-down, so
when you see me upside-down that simply means I am standing on
my legs and you are standing on your head!
The whole of humanity is standing upside-down, but because all
are standing upside-down whosoever tries to stand on his feet
will look upside-down—he will be a minority. The Buddha
is always a minority.
Iqbal Kureshi has asked in a friendly way…he must be in
love with me so he is worried. He says: Whatsoever you say between
the jokes is beautiful, religious and spiritual.
I don't think so—that is really bullshit! Only the jokes
are beautiful, religious and spiritual. But we cannot agree. I
cannot agree with you because you are absolutely unconscious,
and you cannot agree with me because I am absolutely conscious.
We are living in totally different dimensions….
He asks: What is the purpose of all these jokes?
I also ask, "What is the purpose of all these religious
and spiritual things that I go on saying?" Just old habit,
I think. Otherwise there is no point! And sooner or later you
will see—I will only tell jokes….
But Kureshi is worried because he thinks the jokes are sometimes
dirty. I have never come across a dirty joke. The idea of the
dirty comes from your interpretation, otherwise what is dirty?
If you think sex is dirty, then any joke which implies some sexuality
becomes dirty. It is your idea that makes it dirty. To me sex
is as sacred as anything else—to me the whole of life is
divine. And these so-called saints have always been telling you
that the whole of life is divine, but it seems they don't mean
it. I really mean it! ultima04
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