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.
