She was not serious, must have laughed at the devil’s jokes, must have talked joyously; gossiped I mean, and when you gossip with the devil, he is going to get the upper hand. If you laugh at his jokes, then he knows he has a way, he can approach your very being. That is how he persuaded poor Eva.
Since then, I think women have lost their very quality of being joyous. Even if they laugh, it is a muffled laugh. Even when they laugh they put their hands up to their face, as if somebody may see the great work their dentist has done on them. But here, in this room, there is no need to be serious. And it is good that today, for the first time, Ashu is laughing so clearly that I can hear. And why is she laughing? She is laughing because poor Devageet is being beaten. Naturally she laughs, and says to me – I can hear what she is thinking – “Give him a good slap, one more!” No, this is enough, otherwise I will go astray.
That’s what I was saying: that life is a circle within a circle, within a circle – and more so in my life. I have not lived in the way one is expected to live. I have not done anything else. Yes, I have just lived and done nothing else, but then it is too much: a single moment is almost an eternity! Just think of it….
So I will have to go on in the same way that I have lived. You will have to cope with me, there is no other way. I never coped with anybody, so I don’t know how to, and even if I tried to learn now, it is too late. But you have been coping with every kind of person throughout your life.
I did not cope with my father, my mother, my uncles, who all were loving and helpful to me; nor my teachers, who were not my enemies; nor my professors, who always wanted, in spite of me, to help. But I could not cope with anybody, they all had to cope with me. Now it is too late. Things cannot be changed now. It was, and still is, a one-way affair.
You can cope with me, I am available. But I cannot cope with you, for two reasons: one, you are not available, not present. Even if I knock at your door, there’s nobody inside – and the neighbors inform me that the fellow has never been seen; the door is locked. Who locked it? – nobody knows. Where is the key? – perhaps lost. And even if I could find the key or break the lock – which is far easier – what would be the point? The fellow is not inside the house. I would not find you there; you are always somewhere else. Now, how to find you and cope with you? It is impossible.
Secondly, even if it were possible, just for argument’s sake, I cannot do it. I have never done it. I don’t know its mechanism. I am still simply a wild boy from the village.
Just the other night my secretary was crying and saying to me, “Why do you trust me, Osho? I am not worthy. I am not even worthy to show you my face.”
I said, “Who is bothered about worthiness and unworthiness? And who is to decide? I, at least, am not going to decide. Why are you crying?”
She said, “Just the idea that you have chosen me to do your work. It is such a big task.”
I said, “Forget all about the bigness of it, and just listen to what I say.”