The mystic is the one who has come to see the whole stupidity of it, the whole game of the ego. And these are the three worlds available: the world of the politician, the world of power politics; the world of the artist or the world of the mystic.
The mystic is one who has seen that all comparison is false, meaningless; he has dropped comparing. The moment you drop comparing, you are simply yourself – neither superior nor inferior. How can you be superior or inferior if you are just yourself?
Just think: the Third World War has happened and everybody else has disappeared from the world, and only Anand Bashir, who has asked this question, is left. The whole world is suddenly gone, only Bashir is left, sitting in Koregaon Park, Pune. Will you be superior or inferior? You will be simply yourself, because there will be nobody to compare with.
A mystic is the one who simply knows it: that he is himself. He lives his life according to his own light, he creates his own space, he has his own being. He is utterly contented with himself, because without comparison you cannot be discontented either. And he is not an egoist, he cannot be – ego needs comparison, ego feeds on comparison. He is simply doing his thing. The rose is a rose and the lotus is a lotus, and some tree is very high and some other tree is very small – but everything is as it is.
Just try to see for a single moment without comparing, and then where is superiority and where is inferiority? And where is the ego, the source of it all?
The third question:
I am addicted to telling lies. Why do I do it?
It may be just to feel superior! People start telling lies because that gives them a specialty: they can pretend that they know things which nobody else knows. Truth is universal, the lie is private. It is your own creation, nobody else knows about it; you become very special, the knower. If you say the truth you will not be special.
I have heard that in a village there was a wise man. Once it happened that from the palace of the king some very precious diamonds were stolen and the king’s people were searching for the stolen treasure. The king had loved those stones so much that at any cost they had to be brought back, but no clue was available.
Then somebody suggested, “We have an old wise man in the town; maybe he can be of some support, some help, some insight he can give. Whenever we are in trouble – we are poor people, we cannot go to very learned scholars, we cannot go to the experts – we always go to our old wise man. And it has never been a disappointment; he always finds some beautiful advice for us.”