Scholars certainly stink. But the innocent man – who is no longer burdened with dusty books, who is no longer living in dusty rooms of scholarship, who has come into the open, under the sky – has a fragrance around him. Innocence has a fragrance, just as knowledge has a disgusting smell, because knowledge comes from corpses, and knowing comes from a living life source.
They are clever, they have cunning fingers: what is my simplicity compared with their diversity?
Zarathustra says, “I am just a simple man, I am not clever – no wise man is clever.” Cleverness is a poor substitute for wisdom; cunningness is even a perversion. The innocent man is neither clever, nor cunning; but there is tremendous beauty and grandeur in him.
I used to know a very rare human being, an old man, Magga Baba. This statement of Zarathustra’s reminds me of him. Nobody knew his name. He had nothing except a jug; and the Hindi word for jug is magga. Because he had a jug to drink water out of, or to have food in – that was his only possession – people started calling him Magga Baba. He was so simple that people would drop money into his magga – he would never beg – and some other people might take money out of his magga, but he would never prevent it. It was none of his concern.
You will not believe me…he was the only man, perhaps, who was stolen many times. A man – and he did not prevent it. People would simply take him and put him in a rickshaw. And he would not say, “Where are you taking me? And why are you taking me?” – he would simply go. They would take him to another village. And when, in the place where he was living, they became aware that somebody had stolen Magga Baba, they would go in search of him, to bring him back. He would not say anything to them either; they just had to put him back into a car or into a rickshaw.
Once he was lost for almost twelve years, because some people took him far away in a train. His followers went around the villages, but he was not found, because he was thousands of miles away. It was just by chance – a businessman had gone to that place and he saw Magga Baba. He dropped his business, took hold of Magga Baba, put him onto a train and brought him back to the city. There was great rejoicing all over the city: Magga Baba has been found! Twelve years…people had almost forgotten him.
He was so simple, just like a child. He used to speak very rarely – just a word, and that too not in response to your questions or anything. Once he told me, when he was alone…. He used to live in a shed, an open shed, and at night his disciples used to massage him. The whole night, the massage used to go on. He told me, “I need to sleep also, and these disciples of mine, they don’t understand that if they continue massaging me….” And not only one – five, six people were massaging him. Somebody was massaging his head, somebody was massaging his feet.
He said, “How can I sleep? I have not slept for almost twenty years, because these lovers won’t let me.”