According to Osho, a truly wise person does not marry because wisdom has already dissolved the urge and seen the world’s futility. Yet most people gain that very wisdom through marriage itself. So follow your own understanding: if the pull exists, marry and learn; if clear insight has ended the desire, remain unmarried—never imitate borrowed conclusions.
Wise people don’t need marriage, but most of us learn wisdom by going through it—so act from your own inner sense, not from copying others.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, whenever I listen to you, my firm resolve to get married shatters. But whenever I think on my own, I get stuck—should I marry or not? In the last two days you have said that a wise person should not marry. Now tell me, Osho, what should I do? Nothing makes sense to me. Please show me the way!
Throw the scrap into the scrap, Babu Musaddilal came from the office, but before setting foot across the threshold he was so nervous— as if within the lintel, stretching for miles, there lay a blazing desert and he were parched. Or else a haunt of spirits, a ghostly cremation ground, with cleavers raised overhead. Home was no home, but some kind of menagerie with ferocious beasts inside, all hungry and all unchained. Who knows what curse of Durvasa was upon him that he was not of one, not of two— he was the father of five girls. Ill-starred and pitiable, they were turning pale; their hands had not yet been hennaed—still maidens. The first girl, with red ink, was coloring her nails; the second wanted to as well, was tempted, but held back out of shame; the third was saving yesterday’s chutney for tomorrow; the fourth, a dry roti in…
Osho! After listening to and understanding your views on marriage, the desire to marry has flown away; yet one cannot remain without passing through such a crucial experience. Guide this Trishanku!
Krishna Vedant! Don’t get caught up in my words. Get married! Because some people cannot experience flowers without first passing through thorns. To understand from another’s experience requires a very deep intelligence, which is exceedingly rare. People don’t understand even from their own experience—what will they understand from another’s! There is the story of Yayati in the Upanishads. Yayati turned a hundred—he was an emperor—and Death arrived. It’s a lovely story. I’ve told it many times, yet I never tire of it; it holds great flavor and meaning. Yayati is a hundred-year-old man. He has a hundred wives, a hundred sons. He falls at the feet of Death—the great emperor—and begins to plead, “Don’t take me so soon. None of my desires have yet been fulfilled.” A hundred wives, a hundred sons, a vast empire—everything a man could want or imagine—he has it all; and yet before Death he begs,…
Osho, I am about to get married. Will this cripple my search for truth, or will it support it? Osho, please guide me!
One lawyer pestered me so much that he poured all his legal brilliance into this one mission, as if it were the sole duty of his life. Morning and evening he would come and sit for hours. I told him, “Is this your life’s goal—my marriage? What harm have I done you? Are you repaying some karmic debt from past lives? Why waste so much time? Am I your client? What’s the case? You have no peace morning or evening. Have you got into trouble with your own marriage—is that it? You want to trap me too? It often happens: someone loses his tail and goes about cutting off everyone else’s! What’s the matter? Say it once or twice and I’d understand, but this became a routine—at dawn you’re already here; in the evening, before I return from the college, you’re sitting there! Do you even go to court? Do…
Question: Fourth question: Osho, what are your thoughts regarding married life? I am not married—from that alone you should understand what my thoughts are. What greater statement could there be? A friend once took George Bernard Shaw to see a play based on his story. He wanted Shaw to give his opinion. Shaw was the greatest playwright of the century; his opinion carried weight. The friend had written his very first play, and it was being staged for the first time. Shaw watched for a minute or two, then fell asleep and began to snore. The friend grew very uneasy. He couldn’t rightly wake him—he had great respect for Shaw. But this was unfortunate: after so much effort he had come, and then he slept! When the play ended, Shaw opened his eyes. The friend asked, “Your opinion?” Shaw said, “You didn’t understand? I fell asleep—that is my opinion.
Osho! Should I get married or not? And should I marry by my own choice, or according to my family's wishes?
Closing the window, the gatekeeper said, "Go to hell. There is no place here for madmen." One mistake can be forgiven, because how else will a man know it is a mistake unless he makes it? So, Rakesh, make the mistake once—the gate of heaven will not close because of that. But don't go on piling mistake upon mistake, because heaven does not open for madmen. One mistake is natural. Make new mistakes—the only way to learn. But don't repeat the same mistakes again and again. Nasruddin has been married for thirty years. One morning his wife said, "Mulla, remember—today it has been thirty years. It's our wedding anniversary. How shall we celebrate it? What's your idea? Wouldn't it be nice if we slaughter the rooster we've been raising for six months?" Nasruddin said, "How fair is it to punish a rooster for an accident that happened thirty years ago?…