Chapter 14: Zen Is for Nobodies
Every moment I am giving you the rose that Gautam Buddha gave to Mahakashyapa; with my whole being, with my presence. There is no secret at all; both my hands are open, I am not holding my fists.
But there are investments which would like what you call “exclusive clubs.” The Hindu pundit thinks that truth is only in the Sanskrit scriptures.
One very young and alert man, Swami Ramateertha, who had gone to the West, around the world, was loved by thousands of people. He was a man of rare quality. He thought that before coming back home, it would be right for him to first go to Kashi, the capital of Hinduism. But he was not aware that a great disaster was awaiting him.
In Kashi, they have the secret council of Hindu scholars. He was asked to present himself before the council, and the first question that was asked by the chairman was, “Do you understand Sanskrit?”
Of course he did not. He was born near Peshawar; his whole education was Persian, Arabic, Urdu. Sanskrit was not known to him at all. But Sanskrit is not needed to know the truth, otherwise Socrates could not know it, Pythagoras could not know it.
But this is the attitude of all the religions. Jesus was crucified for many reasons. One of them was that he was not a rabbi, he was not a scholarly Jew. He was just a poor carpenter’s son, and was claiming to be a prophet. The learned people have a vested interest in keeping secrets. And in their scriptures, there is nothing.
Just look at those scholars: in their lives there is nothing - no song, no beauty, no dance, no laughter. They are just like dry wood. Have you ever seen a pundit dancing innocently? A rabbi or a pope? They know much but they don’t know the inner space of innocence.
It is not a secret, Maneesha. It becomes a secret if you are asleep. If you don’t enter into your own being it becomes a secret. Nobody can prevent you except yourself, and nobody can give it to you except yourself.
Her second question is:
Last night’s discourse was like being aboard Noah’s Ark. Your voice was an anchor as we sat so still and silent, literally in the center of the cyclone. It was an amazing example of how existence is right with us - though I have heard that one bamboo sustained multiple fractures.