This is very strange: a few “things” are researching, finding great truths – dangerous, fatal, decisive – and other things are doing nothing. If we are all things, then perhaps while you are sleeping, your chair is trying to experiment upon you, looking into you, trying to find out what kind of thing this is. And the chairs must be publishing periodicals, research papers, getting PhDs, DScs…. But it is strange that only men, not even animals, are scientists. Animals have life but they are not consciously alive; hence they simply go on living a biological program.
Man is the only living organism on the earth who has a totally new quality – consciousness. The walls in this room are not conscious of you. They are not conscious of themselves either. They don’t know they exist, they don’t know that anybody else exists. Man is very special; he knows others exist, he knows he exists.
The scientist has to deny the greatest prerogative of man. He has to say that he is also a thing among things. Strange! Scientists also when they are not scientists – because nobody can be a scientist twenty-four hours a day. It is not like religion. A person cannot be religious for a few hours in a day, or a few hours in a week. Either he is religious or he is not.
Religiousness is overwhelming, reaches to every pore of your being; it is not a profession like being a doctor, an engineer, a scientist.
I used to stay in Calcutta in the house of the chief justice of the Supreme Court of Bengal. His wife told me, “I cannot tell anybody, but you have become so close to us that I am daring to say it to you. And my husband only listens to you. Otherwise he is twenty-four hours a day chief justice of the Supreme Court of Bengal; nobody is above him, he never listens to anybody. So it was pointless to tell anybody anyway, but I want to tell you that you have to tell him that to be a chief justice is a profession. He need not be chief justice twenty-four hours a day.”
I said, “What do you mean ‘twenty-four hours a day’?”
She said, “I mean even in bed he is the chief justice and I am the criminal. He is ordering! He can’t speak in any other way. The jargon of his court has gone into his very marrow. To the children he speaks in the same way. When he is out of the house we are all so happy. And when he comes home everybody becomes serious because the chief justice is coming: not the father, not the brother, not the husband – no, no relationship exists with the chief justice. The chief justice is even required not to be friendly to anybody because that may affect his fairness. He is nobody’s relation.”
I talked to him. I said, “This is simply stupid. You are a chief justice between eleven to five in the court. It is a profession, it is not your religion. You need not be a chief justice in bed with your wife. That is ugly. And if you are doing that then you are the criminal. You start behaving rightly and forget all your legal jargon. Your children want you to be their father. What do they have to do with the chief justice? Do you know the moment you enter the house the whole house becomes sad, afraid? Do you consider it something great about you?”
He said, “Perhaps you are right. I have made it my religion.”