He would continuously talk, and I had to tell him, “You please shut up! – because I have come for a morning walk. I want to enjoy the flowers, I don’t want to become knowledgeable about them. I don’t want even to know their Latin names. And your knowledge is a barrier – you can’t see the rose. Your whole knowledge stands between you and the rose – its Latin name, its properties, its uses in different diseases. The roseflower is lost, far away; you start moving into your knowledge.”
I said, “If you want to come with me, then please keep your mouth shut. You can do whatever you want in your mind – that is your business – but I don’t want to know the names of the trees and the plants and the flowers and the leaves and the trunk and the bark. You destroy my whole morning! I want to remain completely available to this beautiful sunrise, the flowers dancing, the beautiful breeze blowing. I don’t want to be hindered by knowledge. My experience of their beauty is enough.”
He would remain silent for a few minutes – but you cannot say to computers, “Shut up!” After a few minutes he would forget again. Seeing something new, he would say, “Look at that plant. This is very good for people who are suffering from migraine.”
I said, “You are giving me migraine! Please give me a few leaves of that plant too. You are my migraine. I come every day, I never suffer from migraine.” I asked him, “Can’t you enjoy at all the beauty, the radiant morning, the freshness of it all? Have you to bring your knowledge in?”
The last time I saw him, he was almost dying. I asked him, “What about your knowledge? You know about all the kinds of plants which can cure everything. Now why are you bothering about allopathy? And I can see that allopathy is not helping.”
He was continuously coughing; he had become just bones. And I said, “What happened to your knowledge? You missed your whole life, you never lived it. Your knowledge became a bondage to you, and now you are dying and that knowledge is of no use. Perhaps if you had lived totally, intensely, that experience might have transformed the experience of death too.”
To those who do not live, death seems to be an end. To those who live totally, death is not an end but a new beginning: an old house is abandoned, and a new form, a new world opens up. But that depends on whether you have lived or you have just been hung up in your head.
I saw tears in his eyes. He said, “Perhaps you are right. I never lived, I was always accumulating knowledge – and it has not helped me. My whole life has been just a desert without any oasis. But now it is too late.”
I call this stupidity. The man was known as a great sage, but to me he was a great idiot. And he confirmed before dying, with his tears, that he had missed.
Innocence comes as you become more conscious, more alert, and you start dropping unnecessary luggage. Have you ever thought how much unnecessary luggage you are carrying within yourself? A conscious man slowly starts dropping everything, because the most precious treasure in you is to be absolutely unburdened, clean, pure, innocent.