Chapter 4: In Your Eyes Is the Hope of the World
We are not here to create a new religion; our every effort is to destroy all religions. They have done enough harm to humanity. To tolerate them even for a single day is against anybody who understands the meaning of compassion, who understands the eternity of his own being. Unless all these organized religions become memories of the past, man cannot live without fetters, without chains, without moralities imposed on him against his will. He cannot live as an individual, he has to subdue himself according to the masses. That is the ugliest slavery.
But for thousands of years man has lived in slavery of many kinds. He has forgotten the taste of freedom. He has forgotten the beauty of responsibility. He has forgotten that he has wings, that the whole sky is his. And he need not be tied to a post like an animal, he is a bird of the beyond.
I will be continuing to create so much fire in you that it will burn your ego and your slavery simultaneously and make you a freedom, a light unto yourself. In your very eyes is the hope of the world.
But remember, even great symbols have been misunderstood. Zarathustra was talking about this same fire, but his people, persecuted by the Mohammedans, have carried fire, ordinary fire, from Persia to India. For centuries they have been keeping the same fire alive, which is simply absurd. That fire is not going to transform you, and Zarathustra did not mean that fire. I know Zarathustra just as I know myself.
Man has always been misunderstanding great symbols. And the men who have attained to the ultimate are helpless, they have to use symbols. Now I am saying, “the fire of my eyes.” Don’t repeat the same mistake as the people of Zarathustra have done.
Their temples are called agiyari, fire temples. For centuries they have carried the same fire; they don’t allow it to go out, they go on refueling it. And not even for a single moment do they think: “What has this fire done for us? Certainly this is not the fire that Zarathustra was talking about.”
Man is so blind, it is almost certain that he will misunderstand. He is not only blind, he is greedy.
When I came back from America, Govind Siddharth, one of my very old sannyasins told me, “You used to come to Ahmedabad, and just for you I have been keeping my ancestral home, because nobody lives there.” His mother has died, his father has died, and one brother has gone to America. And Govind Siddharth lives in Bombay, has his business there.
He was certainly keeping a beautiful house. But when I told him, “I am no more going to move around the country; now whosoever is thirsty has to come to the well,” he said, “I will sell the house.”
He sold the house, and he informed me that, “Thirty-three lakh rupees are in the bank for your work whenever you want. Whatever the work, that money is there.”
I asked him, “Is there any involvement with the family? Have you settled with your brother?”
He said to me, “Yes, the money is absolutely free now, just for your work.”