The intellect goes on missing, and the inquirer said, “Then whom are you teaching? If there is no one, then whom are you teaching?”
And the master says, “I have got no tongue, so how can I teach?” He goes on giving hints to become alert, to look, but the inquirer is engulfed in his own mind. The master goes on hitting, hammering on his head; he is talking nonsense just to bring him out of his mind.
If you had been there you would have been convinced by the inquirer, not by the master. The inquirer would have appeared exactly right. This master seems to be mad, absurd. He is talking and he says, “There is no tongue, so how can I talk?” He is saying, “There is no body to me, how can I move, how can I talk?” He is saying, “Look at me, I am without form. Look at me, I am not embodied. The body appears to you but I am not that, so how can I talk?” The mind goes on missing. This is the misery of the mind. You push, it again gathers itself; you hit it, and for a moment there is a shaking and a trembling, and again it is established.
Have you seen a Japanese doll? They call it a daruma doll. You throw it in whatsoever way – topsy-turvy, head upside-down – but whatsoever you do the doll sits in a buddha posture. The bottom part is so heavy you cannot do anything. Throw it in any way and the doll again sits in a buddha posture. The name daruma comes from Bodhidharma; in Japan, Bodhidharma’s name is Daruma. Daruma used to say, this Bodhidharma used to say, that your mind is just like this doll. He used to have a doll; he would throw it, kick it, but whatsoever he did he could not disturb the doll – the bottom part was so heavy. You throw it upside-down, it will be right-side-up.
This master goes on pushing. A little shaking and the doll sits again, misses the point. Finally, desperate, the inquirer says, “I don’t follow, I don’t understand.”
And the ultimate hit – the master says, “I myself don’t understand.”
I go on teaching you, knowing well there is nothing to be taught. That’s why I can go on infinitely. If there were something to be taught I would have finished already. Buddhas can go on and on because there is nothing to be taught. It is an endless story, it never concludes, so I can go on and on. I will never be finished; you may be finished before my story ends, for there is no end to it.
Somebody was asking me, “Why do you go on talking every day?”
I said, “Because there is nothing to be taught.”
Someday you will suddenly feel it – that I am not talking, that I am not teaching. You have realized. There is nothing to be taught because there is no truth.