What are the implications of having three free wishes?

Pragya has asked: “You and all the saints say the same...”

I don’t know about all the saints, because among your so‑called saints most are not saints at all. Out of a hundred of your saints, perhaps one is a saint; the other ninety‑nine are as sick as you are—and often far more chronically sick. But you understand the language of those ninety‑nine, because they speak the language of your disease. The one who is a real saint—you don’t understand his language. I am choosing to speak about those few, those one‑in‑a‑hundred saints, so I can sift for you who the real saints are. There are too many non‑saints; they’re not worth counting. I keep speaking on saints. They are not many. Your “all saints” are not saints—and certainly Pragya’s “all saints” cannot be. For her, those she calls saints will be the sick and deranged—because her mind, her way of thinking, her chain of logic is repression: anti‑body, anti‑world. “You…

Osho, not a single aspiration or desire in life has been fulfilled. In every way, only failure has come to hand. I am sunk in despondency, and now I have only one wish left: that somehow the mind may become quiet. Please show the way.

The mind’s peace does not come by effort; the distilled essence of deep living is this: no desire leads to peace—desire agitates. So at least do not make this new desire. Do this much at least. Now just be still. Say, “All right—whatever will be, will be. If the mind is restless, let the mind be restless. What will we do! What has our doing ever changed? The outer didn’t get set right—how will the inner?” Now say, “Lord, Thy will. If You want to keep me restless, keep me restless. If You want to keep me mad, keep me mad. However You keep me, thus will I remain. I consent to Your will. ‘Jihi vidhi rakhain Ram, tihi vidhi rahiye’—however Ram keeps one, in that way remain. However You keep us—so shall we remain. If You want to keep me restless, surely You have some will in it. You…

Beloved Osho, what do I want?

Then the general goes to the soldier in the next bed and finds out that this guy has hemorrhoids. He too gets swabbed down with iodine; it helps, and he does not have any other wishes. The general then asks the third soldier, "What is wrong with you?" "Sir, I've got swollen tonsils. I get swabbed down with iodine, and yes, it helps." "Anything you would like?" asks the concerned general. "Yes, sir!" replied the soldier. "I'd like to be the first to be swabbed down." First you have to see your situation, where you are; only then can you say what you want. If you are being swabbed down with iodine tincture after these two fellows -- one who has got boils and one who has got hemorrhoids -- and you are suffering only from swollen tonsils, then the problem is clear! Inquire, look for the exact place where…

Osho, can one not desire nothing but happiness in life?

What I am saying is: man is unhappy, therefore he wants to find happiness. And since he keeps seeking happiness but never sees that happiness and sorrow are two sides of the same coin, however much happiness he seeks he will remain unhappy—and keep seeking happiness. What I am saying is that fundamentally he fails to see that what he seeks is not happiness; a basic mistake is occurring. The mistake is that he is rejecting sorrow and seeking happiness, whereas happiness is a part of sorrow. That is, I am seeking birth and do not want to die; I am seeking youth and do not want to grow old. This is a great difficulty. If I want youth, old age is part of it; it is simply youth on the decline. When the flood has come, it must recede; when morning has happened, evening will be. Now I seek…

Osho, yesterday you said that when anger is watched consciously, it dissolves. But why is it that when sexual desire arises, even in awareness its intensity persists? Why is it so?

There is no entanglement in the breath. If you try to practice on anger… Anger is not happening every moment; it happens sometimes. And when it happens, it happens with such intensity that you are already going deep into it; so much is at stake in those moments that you may think, “We will look into awareness later; first let’s settle this now.” Lust is very deep, because existence has made it so deep; life depends on it. If lust were so easy that you decided and were freed, perhaps you would not even have been born—because many before you would have become free, and the possibility of your being would have been almost nil. But your parents, and their parents, did not become free; therefore you are. You too will not get free so easily, because your children are also to be—they are waiting: “Do not run away midway.”…