Chapter 9: What Mischief!
But the only way to disconnect yourself from the past is to disconnect yourself from your mind because your mind is the past. Mind means the known, the past. Mind is history, mind is time. Mind is Christian, Hindu, Mohammedan, mind is Indian, German, Chinese. And unless you get out of the hold of the mind, whatsoever you do is going to be mischievous. It may or may not appear mischievous to you - that is another matter - but it is going to be mischievous. Out of mind nothing good can ever happen.
Good is a by-product of meditation, and bad, a by-product of mind.
A man said to Mulla Nasruddin, “How is your great friend, the lawyer?”
Mulla said, “I’m afraid he is lying at death’s door.”
“These lawyers! At death’s door and still lying?”
That’s the state of the mind: it goes on lying even at death’s door. In fact, as death comes closer to you you start lying more and more, you start deceiving yourself with many more fictions, you start creating myths around you of God, of heaven, of hell. You start creating dreams and you start living in dreams because your whole life is shattered. You have wasted the opportunity. You have not been creative, you have been destructive.
And remember, nobody can be neutral. Either you create something in life or you destroy; either you live in the mind or you live beyond the mind. If you live beyond the mind you become creative. To be in meditation is to be creative. Then whatsoever you do is beautiful; it brings more glory, more blessings to the world. Otherwise whatsoever you do is going to make the world more ugly.
The table and the chair were profoundly in love. They decided to get married and in due course they had a new arrival.
“What shall we christen him?” asked the chair.
“Chable,” was the other’s logical reply.
Of course the child of a table and a chair should be called a chable. And that’s what people are doing: they go on producing chables. That seems to be their only productivity: all that they can do is produce more children.
A woman was telling me, “I hate my husband! From my very guts,” she was saying, “I hate my husband! I am afraid some day I may kill him, may poison him!”
I said, “If you hate him so much, then how come you have eighteen children?”
She said, “I was trying to create such a crowd that he would get lost in it.”
People hate and still they go on reproducing because their productivity knows no other way.
Rena went into the city clerk’s office to report the birth of her sixth child.
“But, miss, this is your sixth child by the same father,” said the clerk. “Why don’t you marry him?”
“Are you jivin’?” replied Rena. “I don’t even like the sonofabitch!”