But life can never be known at the circumference. Life can be known only at the center. On the circumference only lukewarm life is possible. So really, you live a very inauthentic life, and then even death becomes inauthentic – because one who has not really lived cannot really die. Only authentic life can become authentic death. Then death is beautiful: anything authentic is beautiful. Even life, if it is inauthentic, is bound to be ugly. And your life is ugly, just rotten. Nothing happens. You simply go on waiting, hoping that something will happen somewhere, someday.
At this very moment there is just emptiness, and every moment has been like that in the past – just empty. You are just waiting for the future, hoping that something will happen someday, just hoping. Then every moment is lost. It has not happened in the past, so it is not going to happen in the future either. It can happen only in this moment, but then you will need an intensity, a penetrating intensity. Then you will need to be rooted in the center. Then the periphery will not do. Then you will have to find your moment. Really, we never think about what we are, and whatsoever we think is just hokum.
Once I lived with a professor on a university campus. One day he came and he was very upset, so I asked, “What is the matter?”
He said, “I feel feverish.”
I was reading something, so I said to him, “Go to sleep. Take this blanket and rest.”
He went to the bed, but after a few minutes he said, “No, I am not feverish. Really, I am angry. Someone has insulted me, and I feel much violence against him.”
So I said, “Why did you say that you are feeling feverish?”
He said, “I couldn’t acknowledge the fact that I was angry, but really I am angry. There is no fever.” He threw off the blanket.
Then I said, “Okay, if you are angry then take this pillow. Beat it and be violent with it. Let your violence be released. And if the pillow is not enough, then I am available. You can beat me, and let this anger be thrown out.”
He laughed, but the laughter was false – just painted on his face. It came on his face and then disappeared, it never penetrated in. It never came from within; it was just a painted smile. But the laughter, even false laughter, created a gap. He said, “Not really… I am not really angry. Someone said something before others, and I felt very much embarrassed. Really, this is the thing.”
So I said to him, “You have changed your statement about your own feelings three times within half an hour. You said you were feeling feverish, then you said you were angry, and now you say that you are not angry but just embarrassed. Which one is real?” He said, “Really, I am embarrassed.”
I said, “Which? When you said you were feverish, you were also certain about that. When you said you were angry, you were also certain about that. And you are also certain about this. Are you one person or many persons? For how long a time is this certainty going to continue?”