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Chapter 4: Mind: An Expert Coward

The heart has courage - the heart can fall in love; the mind cannot fall in love. And to be with me, even to understand me, is a love affair. It is not your intellect that is needed to understand, it is your intelligence. And remember the distinction between intellect and intelligence - it is vast, it is unbridgeable.

The intellect simply means a memory system; the intellect means a storage system for information. Intelligence is a constant revolution, a transformation. Intellect consists of information; intelligence consists of transformation - moment-to-moment transformation. Each moment one has to die to the past and one has to be born anew. Intelligence has the freshness of dewdrops in the early morning, in the rising sun - dewdrops on a lotus petal, shining so fresh, so innocent, ready to evaporate. When the sun rises they will evaporate and disappear, they will not leave even a trace behind. Intelligence is always ready to die to the past, because that is the only way to live in the present. There is no other way - there never has been, there will never be. And that’s the problem with scholars.

He is certainly a noted scholar. I have loved his books tremendously, particularly on the Upanishads. It is a magical phenomenon that he has been able to write such beautiful treatises. And his grasp is only intellectual. He is not even able to believe that there is something like self-realization, and the Upanishads were born out of self-realization.

If he had been honest enough, he would have not even tried to write on the Upanishads. But scholars are not honest, they are cunning. They are not sincere and authentic people, their whole desire is to be famous and respectable. They write, not because they have come to know something, they write because that brings ego-fulfillment. But you can see their stupidity in many ways. I have never come across a scholar who is not at the same time stupid; both things go in deep synchronicity.

A gentleman, desirous of obtaining a parrot that could speak at least two languages, kept searching for several months. He was searching for this parrot for his very scholarly wife, to whom he wanted to give it as a present. His wife was a great linguist, hence he was searching for a parrot who knew at least two languages. His wife knew many and she was so skillful with languages - she was equally proficient in all the languages - that it was difficult to find out which language was her mother tongue.

One day the owner of the local pet shop called him and said that he had just such a parrot. On arriving at the pet shop, the owner informed the prospective customer that the parrot spoke not two languages but five.

He was delighted, immensely delighted, so he said, “Just send the cage and the parrot to my home. My wife will be there to receive it.”

When the purchaser arrived home at six o’clock that evening he asked his wife, “What’s for dinner?”

“You ask?” she replied. “You sent it home this afternoon.”

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