My okay is a little sad because Ashu is sad, and the membership of this Noah’s Ark is so small that just one person being sad is enough to change the whole atmosphere. She is sad because her lover is gone and may not be back.
Do you remember a few days ago I asked her, “Where is your love, Ashu?” And how joyously she said, “Soon he will be here.”
She may not have thought at the time why I had asked. I don’t ask anybody anything without a purpose. It may not be apparent to you at the time, but it is always there. In all my absurdities there is a reason. In all my insanity there is an undercurrent of utter sanity.
I had asked her because I knew she would soon be sad. Cheer up, don’t be worried. I know your lover better than you know him.
He will manage. I will manage. But in this little Noah’s Ark, don’t be sad. Ah! You are laughing; that is good. And it is always good to have a little separation from the lover; it makes you and your longing deeper. It makes you forget the stupidities that were happening, the conflicts. Suddenly only the beauty is remembered. Little separations bring new honeymoons. So wait for the honeymoon. My disciples will always find a way to me, to be by my side. They want the way. He will find a way to me.
But unfortunately the word sad reminds me again of that German, Achim Seidl. My God, I was not going to speak about him ever again in my life, and he is there! Just because of your sadness…. Look what you have done! So never be sad, otherwise these people can enter.
I was trying to find out from his book what it is he finds wrong in me that makes him say I am not enlightened. Not that I am – just why does he feel that I am not enlightened, and why he feels that I am just illuminated. Out of curiosity I wanted to see why he had concluded in this way. What I found out is really worth laughing at. His reason that I am illuminated is…certainly what I am saying is of immense importance for the whole of humanity, but I am not enlightened because of the “way I say it.”
That really made me laugh. I rarely laugh, and then only in my bathroom. Only the mirror knows it. The beauty of the mirror is that it carries no memories. I laughed because it seemed that this man had met and known many enlightened people, and does not find my way of saying things the same as theirs. I would like to use an American word for him: the sonofabitch is simply intellectually constipated. He needs to start a movement; I mean he needs to eat prunes.