The Rebellious Spirit ~ 25
event type | discourse |
date & time | 22 Feb 1987, 19:00 |
location | Chuang Tzu Auditorium, Pune |
language | English |
audio | Available, duration 1h 50min. Quality: good. |
online audio | |
video | Available, duration 2h 2min. Quality: good, but a slight constant audio-noise. |
online video | |
see also |
|
online text | find the PDF of this discourse |
shorttitle | SPIRIT25 |
- notes
- synopsis
- Reader of the questions: Sw Anand Vimal.
- Question 1 from Sarjano
- Beloved Osho,
- Would you say this is not love?
- For behind the tears of absence
- Is a serene memory
- As a constant presence in my center
- Always, always in the center
- Of my heart, of my feet,
- All the directions of the earth,
- The words and the silences,
- The embraces and the songs,
- But most of all
- In the center of my sorrowing smile
- Sometimes pained with rage.
- So would you say this is not love?
- Because I shout: "You bastards!"
- For I cannot accept in silence or with joy
- That they gag your mouth
- And they fetter your feet.
- Would you say this is not love?
- The divine rage that screams within me
- Singing its furious song
- For the thousands and thousands of hearts
- Who would have loved to meet you
- But are hindered by boundaries of fear,
- By bureaucracy, passports and masked manners.
- Would you say if I could ask you
- My eternal question
- That I do not love you?
- Because I feel to scream to them
- That I love you, I love you,
- And because I want them all to love you,
- To be free
- To love you and to meet you
- Under every tree,
- In every country,
- On every street around the earth,
- And because I wish for every wretch
- You could reach out your hand
- Or your infinite silence.
- I would be dead by now
- Forgotten of myself
- If I had not met you.
- And so I weep for all of those
- Who died in forgetfulness
- Of their own soul
- Without having met you.
- And again and again I scream:
- "You bastards!"
- Into the faces of those
- Who try to chain you close
- In order to keep you
- From the thirsty and the lost.
- So would you say this is not love?
- For the scream is louder still
- Than the silence.
- For the heart is turmoil and the rage
- Whets the intelligence
- Like a sword to cut the chains,
- To cut the heads of the parasites,
- And to open a door
- For intuition to enter.
- I cannot take this any more,
- The fear and the meanness of those who decide
- What is right and what is wrong.
- Nor the fear of those who are afraid
- Of the songs,
- Of the dance,
- Of the music that springs up
- When a living being
- Meets you.
- So, oh, my love, would you say
- This is not love?
- Question 2 from Anando
- Beloved Osho, I don't know how you do it! One minute I think I am in the deepest depths of sadness, the blackest fog of despair, a total blot on the landscape, a complete mistake on the part of existence. The next minute you come dancing in my direction, a huge laugh bubbles up inside of me, and I am utterly in love with the world again -- at least until my next premenstrual crisis. What amazes me is that I am still amazed every time you do something like this, even after ten years. Will I ever learn?
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