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Chapter 4: Session 4

Third: A man who is not known much, not even by his own countrymen. His name is Saraha, and the book is called The Song of Saraha - that is its Tibetan title. Nobody knows who wrote it down. One thing is certain, Saraha never did, he just sang it. But it has the fragrance that the man knew, that he had attained. The song is not the composition of a poet but a realization of a mystic. It is just a few lines, but of such grandeur and beauty that the stars can feel ashamed.

The Song of Saraha is untranslated. I heard it from a Tibetan lama. I would have liked to have heard it again and again but the lama stank so much that I had to say “Thank you..” Lamas stink because they never take a bath. The lama’s stink - and I am allergic to smells - was even too much for me to hear the whole song! I was worried that I was going to have an asthma attack.

I have spoken much about Saraha; he is the original source of the school of Tantra.

Fourth: Tilopa, and the few notes from his song left behind by his disciples. I wonder, without these disciples, how much we would have missed. These people who were just writing down whatsoever was said by the master, not thinking whether it was right or wrong, just trying to put it into words as correctly as possible. And it is a difficult task. A master is a madman; he can say anything, he can sing anything, or he may remain silent. He may just make a few gestures with his hand, and those gestures have to be understood. That was what Meher Baba did continuously for thirty years. He remained silent, only making gestures with his hands.

Is my numbering incorrect, Devageet?

“No, Osho.”

So good.it feels so good to be correct sometimes. With numbers I am really good. It is a strange coincidence that I asked at the right moment. I always get mixed up with numbers. I cannot count, for the simple reason that I am facing the immeasurable, the unaccountable. The truth that I am facing is neither in words nor in numbers. The truth transcends all, and it is so wondrous that one gets mixed up. Everything goes upside down, bizarre. So this is a great compliment that you said I was right. But now please tell me, what was the number?

“Number five, Osho.”

Thank you.

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