According to Osho, when an Indian is drunk he delivers a lengthy “spiritual discourse,” with a minimum time of ninety minutes. The quip satirizes a cultural habit of turning any state into philosophy, revealing how conditioning makes us preach rather than simply be—using humor to mirror India’s reverence for spiritual talk even amid intoxication.
When an Indian gets drunk, he starts giving a long spiritual sermon—about 90 minutes.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, they say that when drunk the englishman tends to boast, the irishman to fight, and the scotsman to go to sleep in case he's asked to buy a round of drinks. Now I want to know what do you say about an indian?
There is no difficulty. The question is very simple. When an Indian is drunk, he delivers a little spiritual discourse -- minimum time limit ninety minutes.
Osho, does the same apply to food too?
The Quakers hold meetings that are silent. In their meetinghouse they gather at the appointed time and sit quietly. There is no preacher—because a preacher will always come prepared. Friends sit; darkness deepens. Then a happening: if someone feels moved to say something, he says it. Many times months go by and no one says anything. People sit and depart—“today there was nothing to say, so nothing was said.” Then if someone feels there is something to say, he stands up. No introduction, no identity, no formalities. He simply stands and says, “This is what I feel; this I want to say.” There is only one condition: no one should ever come prepared. What the Quakers have collected from three hundred years of such silent meetings is worth seeing—words that seem to come straight from God; from utterly ordinary people, sometimes such words arise. But the more education and the…
Osho, have you been drinking?
Absolutely—I'm sitting here drunk twenty-four hours a day. But I’ve discovered a very fine kind of wine; you don’t have to buy it in the market! (The audio recording of the question is not clear.) Please listen to me, please listen to me; if you don’t want to drink, then don’t. (The audio recording of the question is not clear.) Please hear me out completely. It seems a couple of drunkards have turned up here, and they’re getting upset. Let them understand a little. (The audio recording of the question is not clear.) Write down whatever you want to say and send it in. Do not behave unethically with so many people. Write it down and send it. Do not misbehave with so many people. (The audio recording of the question is not clear.) Let me finish what I am saying, then you can speak. I was saying to you:…
Osho, not only is there no tradition around revelers like Baba Malukdas; even companions are scarcely ever heard of! Why has there always been fear and objection to drinking with drunkards? Please speak.
When someone like Maluk appears in the world, he says: drop fear; come, let us talk of love. Drop fear—come, let us be intoxicated. Drop fear—come, let us hum the Beloved’s songs—in ecstasy, in love. Beyond God-love there is nothing else. Come, place your hand in God’s hand, embrace the Beloved; dance with God, play the rās. When a saint says something like this, you get frightened. Because the nets of fear woven over lifetimes—your chains, your habits, your notions, your conditioning—suddenly halt and stiffen: this is dangerous talk. You know that if you drop fear, your whole morality goes; your whole conduct goes. It is all false—that is why you fear its going. Maluk brings a new kind of conduct into the world—a conduct that rests on love; a conduct that rests on joy. You cannot do wrong because you are so blissful—how could you do wrong! You cannot…
Osho, we saw the cupbearer weeping in the tavern—ever since we saw the revelers turning Rajneeshee.
So I give sannyas to alcoholics too. And I tell them, take it without anxiety! You are better than the pundits—at least you are humble. At least you ask, with your head bowed, “Am I also eligible? Do I too have the worth? Will you accept me?” That pundit with the tilak does not bow his head; he stands stiff with pride. He is worthy already! He is a “fit vessel”! He was born in a Brahmin home! He was born knowing Brahman! The drunkard is a hundred thousand times better than that. At least his head is bowed; he is humble. He makes no claim to worthiness. There is no ego, no self-importance. I accept him. And it has been my experience that as soon as a person begins to descend into meditation, alcohol begins to drop away. I am not an advocate of prohibition. I want people to…