Chapter 29: Pregnant with Enlightenment
Trees use it, and the stars use it, and the mountains use it, and the mystics use it. I am saying that which can be said; I am also saying, through my silence, that which cannot be said. Now it is up to you whether you can get a silent whisper, and allow it into your deepest being - because only there its full meaning will be revealed to you. Your mind is incapable, inadequate. The mind has no way to understand silence, it can understand only language, only words; but the wordless..
You cannot complain about mind - it is beyond its capacity. It is just like - my eyes can see the light, my ears cannot see the light. That does not mean that I should complain about my ears: “Why don’t you see the light?” They are not meant for it. They can listen to music - eyes cannot listen to music. Mind can understand words. If you want to understand that which is beyond words, then mind has to be transcended; you have to enter into the space called no-mind. It is just above your mind, beyond your mind. No-mind only understands silence; words don’t reach there.
You are saying, “Is it that we must come in the night and take them?” It is not a question of your coming in the night or in the day and taking them, because I am not hiding them; I am throwing them at you continually every morning, every evening. But you go on picking up only the words, and you go on dropping the wordless - the gaps.
Only in Sufism is there a book which I can call holy. I cannot call the Bible holy, and I cannot call Gita holy. But the book of the Sufis I can call holy - for a simple reason: because nothing is written in it. It is empty. It has been coming down for almost one thousand years from the master to the disciple; and it is given only when the disciple is so ready that he can read that which is not written.
When it was given for the first time by a mystic.. He was dying, and for his whole life it had been a mystery to his disciples; his whole library was available to everybody, but one book he used to keep under his pillow. He would read it only when he had closed the doors, locked the doors, taken a good look that nobody was hiding inside the room; and then he would take the book out of his bed and read it for hours. Naturally there was great curiosity. People were even hiding on the roof, looking, by moving the tiles, to see what was happening. But they could not figure it out - what kind of book this was.
They asked him again and again, and he would say, “When the time is ripe, I will give you the book.” And the day came when he was dying, and all the disciples had gathered, and it was only a question of a few more moments and he would be gone. They were feeling a little embarrassed to ask about the book, “Now that you are going, at least tell us something about the book.” To ask an old dying master looked very ungentlemanly.
But one man gathered courage and he said, “Master, you have forgotten one thing, that book!” He said, “I have not forgotten. It is just under my pillow, and before I take my last breath, I will give it to my successor.”