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OSHO Online Library   »   The Books   »   The Last Testament, Vol. 3
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Chapter 12: Love, Life, Laughter

But the commune is not ready in the first place, because commune has its own hundreds of cars, one hundred buses, five airplanes - and nowhere to go. And they said, what they will do with ninety Rolls Royces? There is no use for them. And my sannyasins refuse to take them because I have used them. To them they have become something of special significance. They want them to keep as memorials.

And the trustees themselves refused. They will not sell them at any price, and they will not distribute them at any price. And there is no need in the first place.

What can I do? Because I don’t own. If I had owned, I would have immediately distributed. Neither I own any watch - they are owned by another trust, and that trust has given hundreds of watches to the sannyasins. I use not more than one watch every day, and that too only when I am speaking in the morning or giving an interview. Otherwise I don’t have any need of it.

I live in a timeless eternity.

So she is simply being foolish.

But why your people or your trustees or your commune do feel this urge or do feel that they have to buy you new Rolls Royces on and on?

You have never loved. You are real German. If you love someone you want to offer something, knowing perfectly well that love cannot be expressed - not by a roseflower, not by a Rolls Royce. But still the heart yearns to offer something to the person you love.

Now my people know that the only two things I use, one is a watch, another is a car. And because of my back only a particular car suits me.

So anybody who feels like giving something to me, I have to say to the person that I cannot accept it because I cannot own anything. But you can donate it to the commune. And if commune feels fit, they can allow me to use it.

I have never gone to the garage where ninety Rolls Royces are. They bring any car to me - and they are all same: the same model, the same car. It makes no difference at all, because the seat.

I sit only this kind of chair. My physicians and my carpenters have made it perfectly to suit my back. A slight different angle and I start having strain on my back.

I have tried many other cars. It was just a coincidence. First they had brought the most precious Rolls Royce, Cornice*. It didn’t suit. Then number two, Carmargue*. It did not suit. Then the third, Silver Spur - and it is just coincidence, its seat suited me.

So all the ninety cars are nothing but one model: Silver Spur. And if my people want to give something to me, of course they will want to give something that I will use.

I don’t write; they cannot offer me fountain pens, diamond fountain pens. They used to offer me. But now I don’t.

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