“Even today, in Southern Africa, the Hottentots sacrifice live sheep and cows to the glorious beetle.”
But remember also that in India, in the times of the Rig Vedas, horses were sacrificed, cows were sacrificed, even man was sacrificed to please the gods. And who are the gods? Somebody is a monkey, somebody is an elephant…and man is sacrificed, killed and eaten by the priest as a prasad, as the god’s gift. And this is being done to praise the gods so they don’t become angry.
Before I ask Avirbhava to bring her new additions to the museum, a little joke:
Two cockroaches, Clod and Crunch, are enjoying dinner on a pile of garbage in Pune.
“Do you know,” says Clod, “that they have just built a new apartment building on Burning Ghats Road?”
“Really?” says Crunch, munching on an old banana peel.
“Yes,” says Clod, “and the kitchen is so clean there is not a speck of dust anywhere. In the refrigerator everything is spotless. In fact, there is not a crumb of dirt in the whole place.”
“Please, please!” says Crunch, spitting out his banana peel, “not while I’m eating!”
Okay, Avirbhava, bring your things.
(Three huge butterflies start dancing around the podium, humming wildly. A large moth flies up to the roof of the auditorium, while a spider and a caterpillar parade past.
Osho is chuckling in his chair, and everyone is going crazy with laughter, enjoying the show tremendously.)
What I tell people about is nothing special.
That makes it special, because ordinarily people who are saying ordinary things think that they are very special. Only a man who has attained to buddhahood can make such a statement: What I tell people about is nothing special; it is just simple and ordinary. The desire to be special is the desire of the ignorant; the desire to be simple is the desire of the conscious. It is only the unconscious mind which creates the ego of being special. When the unconscious mind is gone, everything simply is. There is nothing extraordinary in it.
He is saying,
…it’s the unborn, enlightened, no-mind innate in everyone.