I said, “You should understand his position. If he comes to see me…of course I am not going to see him, I have no reason to see him. I have never voted for anybody because all the idiots are the same. Only the labels are different, so there is no point in voting. I have never voted. And what should I go for…? So there is no question. And he…you should understand, you are a politician. Are you courageous enough to come to my house?”
He was a very nice man. He laughed, he said, “You are right; now I understand. Anybody coming to your house would get into difficulty. This man’s seat could be lost.”
Indira was continuously asking him how I am, what I am doing, what is going on. She wanted to come to see me; at least five times the date was fixed, and at the last moment she would find some excuse and never managed to come to see me: “because,” her colleagues would say to her, “this is dangerous. Your going to see him will be very dangerous for your political career. And the opposition party will use your going to him as one of the most important factors against you.” So every time she backed out.
But when the son, Raja Gokuldas, died, this old man – perhaps in that deep sadness – forgot about his politics and parliament and came to see me. And he said, “Everywhere that I have gone they say I must have committed some sin, that’s why I am suffering this loss of my young son. And they have suggested measures so that in the future life I don’t suffer.”
I said, “They have given you enough measures to suffer right now, in this life. And you should have asked what sin you have committed in your past lives. They all would have differed; they cannot know what sin you have committed in your past lives, they all would have had to do some guesswork. And stupid…that just by stopping eating salt or sugar, you think you will become virtuous? You will only become guilty.”
He said, “You are right. That is what I have become. I have been following all these people, thinking that they are wise people, and they have made me a mess. Whatsoever I do is wrong. And whatsoever they suggest I should do seems to be unnatural, forced. Even if I try, I fail.”
Sin is a strategy to destroy you, to demolish you, to slaughter you as an individual. And then you are in the hands of the priest. Then whatsoever he says, you have to follow. You cannot argue because it is written in the scriptures. And to argue against the scriptures is again a sin. The scripture has to be treated like a person.
I was staying in Jalandhar in Punjab. In the morning when I was going for a walk, I passed through a room where the Sikhs keep a small temple – those who can afford to; and this was a very rich man’s house. It was a beautiful marble temple, a small temple, in which they keep the Guru Granth Sahib, their holy book. That was okay. The holy book was there, but by the side of the holy book there was toothpaste, a brush, and a jug full of hot water, because it was winter.