Mahavira’s mind is like a clean mirror—things show up and go away, but the mirror stays clear and doesn’t keep anything.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, we don’t find analyses of Mahavira’s mental state across the varied adverse circumstances of life. Based on the literature available today, how can his inner state be explained?
This is a very good question. Good because it can arise in all our minds: in varied favorable and unfavorable situations, what is the state of consciousness of a person like Mahavira? There is no mention of it. One might think the absence of mention is because Mahavira never spoke about it. That is not the reason. The omission has another, deeper, fundamental reason. In a person of awareness like Mahavira, circumstances make no difference. So to speak of “different circumstances” has no meaning. In all situations—favorable or unfavorable—the mind remains the same. If someone abuses us, we get angry; if someone welcomes us, we feel delighted. In each situation our mind gets transformed. As the situation is, so our mind becomes. Mahavira calls this the state of bondage. If the mind has to become whatever the situation dictates, we are bound. If the situation is painful, we must be…
Osho, Mahavira’s dispassion, Christ’s holy indifference, Buddha’s disregard, and Krishna’s non-attachment—what are their subtle similarities and differences? Please shed light on this.
In this, some similarities appear. Krishna will arrive at a peace like Buddha’s, because he has nothing to attain—whatever is, is already attained. At times he will appear dispassionate like Mahavira, for his joy knows no bounds. He will appear to proclaim God as Jesus does—but not because there is a God sitting in this world or the next: rather, because all is God. Krishna’s non-attachment is total surrender—“the disappearance of ‘I.’” To know that the “I” is not. Once this is known, whatever is happening is happening. There is nothing to be done about it. There is no possibility of our doing anything. Krishna sees himself as a wave in the ocean. Since there is no choosing, there is no attachment. If we understand correctly, non-attachment is not a state of mind; it is the dropping of all states of mind, the dropping of all positions—and becoming one with…
What is the point? He has no competition with anyone; no rivalry. Hence there is no question of taking hidden revenge. This is a deep insight of Mahavira, one no scripture before Freud caught so clearly. No other scripture in the world made it a rule that a sadhu not engage in others’ joking. Only Mahavira said so. Surely Mahavira had a deep realization: when one satirizes another, hidden violence lies behind. Watch yourself: when you begin to joke about someone, what do you want inside? You want to show him down. Finding no straight way, you take the indirect. A sadhu can joke about himself; he can satirize himself. Mahavira would certainly have called Bernard Shaw a sadhu. One day, after his play ended—astonishing play— everyone clapped and cheered except one. That man stood and said: Shaw, your play stinks! For a moment there was silence.
Osho, in the third discourse on non-possession (aparigraha) you said that Mahavira, by entering the life of sannyas, became an emperor, while his elder brother, though living amid affluence, remained impoverished and enslaved. Attaining inner wealth yet staying beyond material wealth—that is, becoming free of possession—does this not amount to a one-sided, unilateral life? Why can they not accept both inner and outer prosperity together?
Mahavira left everything, not because it was wealth; he left precisely because it was not wealth. Mahavira left everything, not because there was something worth abandoning; he left because there was nothing worth holding. But what do we see? We see that he left palaces; we see that he left diamonds and jewels; we see that he left riches. That is what we notice. As far as Mahavira is concerned, he left nothing but pebbles and stones. We see diamonds and jewels; Mahavira saw pebbles in those diamonds and jewels. And in such diamonds and jewels there is nothing other than pebbles and stones anyway! Yes, those who wrote Mahavira’s story recorded how many diamonds, how many rubies, how many emeralds, how many pearls he left. If someone were to ask Mahavira, he would say, “How foolish you are! You’ve even given different names to pebbles?” Had Mahavira left only…
It is transformation. Then he went to the forest. Twelve years—a deep training. He practiced much. He refined himself. Emptied himself. Lost words. Entered silence. Let speech go. Then returned. For in the forest one can attain; but to share, one must come to the market. Trees and animals can help you find—but to give, there must be man. And when one gets, one must give. Mahavira did not only leave wealth; when he attained the supreme wealth, he showered that too. Once the joy of leaving is known, even the supreme wealth is to be given. ‘Your own raga–dvesha-laden resolves are the root of all faults. He who undertakes this reflection—that sense-objects are not the root—equanimity arises in him.’ Even instantly the taste of equanimity can arise. Sitting in your house, think that you are outside the house. Sitting by your wife, think—who belongs to whom?