According to Osho, the ‘lamp of the Name’ is the inner light kindled by remembrance of the divine Name—pure awareness turned inward. When the wick (your attention) is set aright, this lamp dispels the inner darkness, revealing life beyond birth and death. The ‘palace’ is you; uncover the golden coverings of ego and conditioning, and your whole being fills with light.
It’s the inner light that switches on when you remember the divine within and focus your attention rightly.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, with Saint Paltu’s aphorism “Deepak bara nam ka” a new series of talks begins today. Please explain what this lamp of the Name is, and which “Name” Saint Paltu is referring to?
To prove this greatness of the “I,” this ego, you clutch at this and that. All this must be dropped—only then the seed breaks. Courage is needed to leave the known and enter the unknown. Our deranged mind clings to the past—because mind is nourished by the past. Mind is nothing but the accumulation of the past. It has no way to enter the unknown; it lives only in the known, in the familiar. Therefore mind is the obstacle. It is what does not let your lamp be lit. The moment there is no distance between you and a lit lamp—when this mind no longer stands between—your lamp will be lit instantly. But you, too, must do something: come closer. Trust brings you close; become moist with love. Become zero, become silent. I call that silence meditation. What Paltu calls “Name,” I call “meditation.” Only a difference of word. When…
Children are tranquil. Your little one—son or daughter—is quiet. But their quiet is unconscious still. Because they have not known unrest. Without knowing darkness, you cannot define light. Without knowing night, what proof is there you know day? When darkness is known, the definition of light dawns. It’s a puzzling paradox—but one of life’s inevitabilities. If you understand it, it will serve you well. No one reaches God without having wandered. We are in God, yet we reach by wandering. Like a fish born in the ocean lives in the ocean—but has no idea where the ocean is. How could it? Never having been apart, how can it know? To know, there must be a little distance. There must be a separation, a pang. If a fisherman snatches it, then memory arises. As soon as it is out of the water, it remembers water.
That is the name of bhakti. Nam sumir man bawre,... “Name” is a hint, a symbol. Therefore no particular Name is specified. It is not said: remember Ram. For if one says remember Ram, the Krishna-remembrancer will wonder whether he errs; the one who remembers Allah will think, should I remember Allah or Ram? Therefore the saints have not used any particular Name; they have only said: remember the Name—sab naam usi ke hain, all Names are His. Call Him Allah, call Him Ram, call Him Krishna—whichever word sits deepest in your heart, with which your raga arises, with which your flame joins, with which your strings unite—speak that; the way will open through that. And note this: each must find his own word. All words are alike.
The gold-lit floor marked by His feet, The sandalwood threshold bearing bowed heads’ imprints, Flowers scattered, uncounted rice-markings, Incense, arghya, naivedya—without measure, In the dark all will be hidden— Let all worshiped tales be nursed in this one flame. This temple’s lamp—let it burn in silence! The priest has slipped the bead of the moment— The history of echoes is lost among stones; Life like a samadhi of breaths, The path like a jewel-ocean, The voiced tremor in each particle has stilled— Let life recast itself as flame. This temple’s lamp—let it burn in silence! Tempesty, bewildered, night’s swoon is deep; Be priest today—the little sentinel of light. Until the bustle of day returns, Until then it will keep watch each instant; Filling the lines with waters of aura, This herald of dusk—let it burn till dawn. This temple’s lamp—let it burn in silence!
Question: Osho, In "Lamps on the Path" you have said: Osho, that darkness gathers beneath a clay lamp we can still understand; but we are completely unfamiliar with the dense darkness that lies beneath the inner lamp. What is it, why is it there, and how can it be removed? Kindly explain in detail. I have told you the reasons for the darkness. Break them one by one. The greatest reason is that your taste for the world still persists. Therefore I will not tell you to turn within while the taste persists—you will never be able to. Make this taste tasteless. And my experiment for making it tasteless is completely different from what others have told you. Others have said: “Make it tasteless” by thinking “there is no taste in it.” I don’t say: think. I say: attend. Don’t think there is no taste—root your attention and see.