These are their protections, so I cannot go to a higher court and appeal: that this is blackmail. So in fact they have prevented me from entering America for fifteen years.
And my attorneys were perfectly right: as I left the jail, a bomb was found under my seat. The bomb was a time bomb. Now, nobody else can put a bomb inside the jail except the jail authorities, except the government.
The case finished within five minutes, because I accepted – there was no question of argument, and I said, “Any crime they say…I have committed. No need to waste the time of the court. You simply give your judgment.” My people immediately produced four hundred thousand dollars, and within ten minutes I was out of the jail. My plane had been kept ready, so that within fifteen minutes I could leave America.
I was wondering why they were in such a hurry, why fifteen minutes? My attorneys said, “They are worried that if you are allowed to stay here for two days or five days, you may go to a higher court and appeal that you have been blackmailed – so you have to leave America immediately.”
These are the democratic governments. These are the people who go on saying that their ideals are democracy, liberty, freedom of expression, freedom for the individual to be himself. So I can understand if you call these politicians, these popes, these shankaracharyas, “the bastards.” It is simply that your love is too much for me and your love for freedom, individuality, and respect for life is too much.
My whole teaching can be reduced to a simple concept: reverence for life and freedom.
So Sarjano, you need not be worried. You must be feeling that I may say this is not love. This too is love – love on fire, love aflame. And love has to learn not to be just a roseflower. It has to know that if the time comes, it can become a sword.
You are asking me, “Would you say this is not love?” No, I would not say that.
“For behind the tears of absence is a serene memory as a constant presence in my center of my heart, of my feet, all the directions of the earth, the words and the silences, the embraces and the songs, but most of all in the center of my sorrowing smile sometimes pained with rage.”
Love knows to roar like a lion too. Love is not just sweet poetry. If love were just sweet poetry, it could not exist in this insane world. It has to be strong enough – stronger than hate, stronger than anger – it has to be a lion’s roar.
“So would you say this is not love?” No, Sarjano, this is love in its purity, in its utter genuineness, in its absolute authenticity.
“Because I shout: ‘You bastards!’ For I cannot accept in silence or with joy that they gag your mouth and they fetter your feet. Would you say this is not love?”