And that was the way they remained. Of course Chuang Tzu was a disciple and very respectful to the master. Nobody could compete with him, but that’s the way they started, with him saying, “Can’t we forget all about that rot?” – I add the word rot to make it exactly what it would have been. But that does not mean that he was not respectful. Even after this, Lao Tzu laughed and said, “Just great! I was waiting for you.” And Chuang Tzu touched the master’s feet.
Lao Tzu said, “What!”
Chuang Tzu said, “Don’t bring anything in between us. If I feel like touching your feet, then nobody can prevent me, neither you nor I. We have just to watch it happen.”
And I had to watch it happen, moving from one house to another. I can remember hundreds of houses, but not a single one where I could have said, “This is my house.” I was hoping, perhaps this one…that’s been the way for my whole life: “Perhaps the next one.”
Still, I will tell you a secret. I am still hoping to have a house somewhere, perhaps…“perhaps” is the house. My whole life I waited and waited in so many houses for the real one to come. It always seemed just around the corner, but the distance remained the same. It remained always just around the corner – I can again see it.
I know that no house is ever going to be mine; but knowing is one thing: once in a while, something which can only be called “being” covers it. I call that “all-knowing,” and in those moments, again I am searching for “the home.” I said it can be named only “perhaps,” I mean that is the name of the home. It is always going to happen, but never really happens…always just about to happen.
From my Nani’s house I moved to my father’s sister’s house. The husband, I mean my father’s brother-in-law, was not very willing. Naturally, why should he be? I was in perfect agreement with him.
Even if I had been in his place I would not have been willing either. Not only unwilling, but stubbornly unwilling, because who would accept a troublemaker unnecessarily? They were childless, so really living happily – although in fact they were very unhappy, not knowing how “happy” those who have children are. But they had no way of knowing either.
They had a beautiful bungalow, with more room than for just one couple. It was big enough to have many people in it. But they were rich people, they could afford it. It was not a problem for them to just give me a small room, although the husband was, without saying a word, unwilling. I refused to move in.
I stood outside their house with my small suitcase, and told my father’s sister that, “Your husband is unwilling to have me here, and unless he is willing it would be better for me to live on the street than to be in his house. I cannot enter unless I am convinced that he will be happy to have me. And I cannot promise that I will not be a trouble to you. It is against my nature to not be in trouble. I am just helpless.”
The husband was hidden behind a curtain, listening to everything. He understood one thing at least, that the boy was worth trying.
He came out and said, “I will give you a try.”