He asks Arjuna, “What are you seeing?” Arjuna says, “Only the eye of the bird that you have told us is going to be the target. I don’t see anything else.” His concentration has come even more narrow. And for an archer, this kind of concentration is needed. But meditation is not archery.

Contemplation is not being concentrated on a single object, but thinking about the same object from every possible aspect. For example, somebody is contemplating about love – what does it mean? He remains confined to a certain line of thinking, not to a certain object, but to a certain subject.

And meditation, in all the languages of the world except the Indian, Chinese and Japanese, also gives the feeling…. The archer is concentrated, but he is not concerned with the eye, the bull’s – eye. His concern is how to shoot the arrow so that it reaches the eye; his concern is not to miss the target.

Meditation, as far as Western languages are concerned, is going deeply into one object – thinking, in its deeper implications. Contemplation was linear; you were thinking about a subject from all possible aspects, but the mind was moving. In meditation the mind is not moving. It is similar to concentration without any arrows. Your thoughts are the arrows, but they are hitting the same subject deeper and deeper and deeper – not in a line, not horizontal but vertical.

There is no word in Western languages which can translate the word dhyana absolutely and adequately. Meditation has been chosen because there is no other word, but it is a wrong choice. Out of the three words, it is the best, but dhyana, ch’an or zen have a totally different meaning: mind has stopped.

In concentration mind has narrowed, in contemplation it is flowing in a line on a particular subject, in meditation it is concentrated, and instead of arrows it is throwing thoughts deeper and deeper into the same object. But all three processes belong to the mind.

Dhyana means the mind has been put aside. There is no concentration, there is no contemplation, there is no meditation. It is a state of no-mind; it is absolute silence, not even a small stirring of any thought.

In the East, so many devices have been tried…how to stop the mind chattering continuously, how to bypass it, how to stop it, how to go beyond it. Chuang Tzu has his own, unique contribution. He talks to his disciples in absurdities, and the mind cannot tackle them. The mind needs something reasonable, rational, logical; that is its territory. The absurd is beyond it.

I have told you the famous story about Chuang Tzu: One morning he woke up with tears in his eyes, so sad and so depressed. His disciples had never seen him sad or depressed or with tears; he is an enlightened master…what has happened? They all rushed and inquired, “Can we be of some help?” Chuang Tzu said, “I don’t think so.” They said, “Still, we want to know what is the problem that is torturing you so much. You are beyond problems!”