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Chapter 11: God: The Phantom Fuehrer

What was he doing before that?

For eternity he was unemployed. What was that fellow doing all that time?

Sleeping? In a coma? Drunk, or what?

And suddenly one day he starts creating. There is no reason that Christian theology, Mohammedan religion, or Judaism can supply as to why, at a certain moment, there was this urge to create. In fact the urge to create is something biological, sexual. Sexual energy is your creative energy.

Women have not been great painters and poets and sculptors for the simple reason that their desire to create is immensely fulfilled by bringing up children. To give birth to a child, alive, radiant - what else can be compared to it? You create a painting; howsoever beautiful, it is a dead thing after all. You can create music, you can create song. But what are they compared to a beautiful child?

Just look into the eyes of a child and all your paintings are nothing. The child smiles, and all your songs fall flat on the ground. The child tries to walk, and the joy when the child feels “I can walk.”

All your science, all your art, are nothing compared to that joy. And when the child speaks for the first time, have you seen the ecstasy?

The mother watches from the first moments in her womb when the child starts moving. An experienced mother, one who has given birth to one or two children, can tell whether the child is a boy or a girl, because the girl remains quiet and the boy starts kicking very early: he is in a hurry to get out. The girl remains silent. And that difference continues in childhood, in youth, in old age.

A woman has a certain stability, a centeredness, a grounding, which a man has not. He is always on the move. Even on holidays he can’t sit silently. He will start fixing the clock which is working perfectly well. He will take it apart.

There is nothing wrong with the clock - something is wrong with the man! He can’t sit still. He will open the bonnet of his car, start doing something, and create a mess. And he will be more tired after the holiday than he ever is after he comes from the office, because for the whole day he cannot just sit still.

I have heard: a woman hired a nurse to look after her children - she had almost a dozen children. She said to the nurse, “Today I will be coming home a little late. These children will create trouble for you but there is no other way, I have to go. Somebody has died, and they are close relatives. I may be back late, so forgive me and be patient. And somehow make all of them go to sleep.”

When the woman returned in the middle of the night, she asked, “Have an the children gone to sleep?.” The nurse said, “All of them have gone to sleep; just one was creating so much trouble I had to beat him.”

The wife said, “Which one?” - and the nurse showed her.

She said, “My God! It is my husband!”

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