He took sannyas first thinking that I am talking about The Bible. And being impressed he went into an utterly boring book, The Bible. No intelligent man can read it from the first page to the last page – nobody does it. And what is the problem? Why should I talk about things which are in The Bible? Rather than dropping The Bible, he dropped sannyas. Such is the way of conditioning.
Three missionaries, all nuns, are walking along the street and one is describing with her hands the tremendous grapefruits she has seen in Africa. Then the second one, also with her hands, describes the huge bananas she has seen in India. The third nun, a little deaf, asked, “Father who?”
Strange questions – nothing to do with your own being and its growth. But people go on for their whole lives and finally, they become just walking encyclopedias. They know everything, and deep inside at the center is still the same innocence with which they were born. It is not knowledgeable, it is not ignorant; it is simply innocent.
And to be utterly innocent is the whole purpose of all meditations, particularly here. I allow you to ask questions so that I can destroy them as much as possible.
Just the name of Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi uttered from your lips sends waves of an unknown force like a wild wind through me. Tears well up with an unbearable feeling of longing. Perhaps I missed Rumi and again, because of the same stupidities, I am missing with you.
Beloved, can you comment?
It is true: the very word mevlana has still, after twelve hundred years, a life of its own. And if you are open, mevlana is going to stir strange waves, open unknown dimensions.
There have been thousands of masters in the world, but nobody’s name begins to stir your heart and being with a song and with a juice like Mevlana. And Mevlana simply means the master. In Persian, Arabic and in Urdu, the Mohammedan countries, the word maulana is used for the master. But great must have been the disciples of Jalaluddin Rumi, who never called him Maulana; they changed the whole word. They started to call him Mevlana, “my Beloved Osho.”
Maulana means a man of great knowledge. It has no juice in it. It is dry, desert dry. Mevlana is a play on the same word but with a slight change. Even those who don’t understand its meaning, when they hear “Mevlana” something in their being starts responding to the word. Ordinary words are not that potent, but mevlana is an exception. It has beauty because it does not say that the person, Jalaluddin Rumi is a man of knowledge. It has some love in it, some trust in it. It does not refer to knowledge at all. It simply refers to my heart, to my being. Mevlana means “my master,” and not just my master but my beloved Osho.