What is the significance of questions in relation to the ego?

Beloved Osho, what sense do all the questions have? In many of them arising in me I can see my ego at work. Some I can answer myself, and many have been asked before.

Yashen, don't you see the same ego in this question? Don't you know the answer to this question? Don't you know that this type of question has been asked many times before? Then why are you asking the question? First, you think that in all the questions that arise in you, your ego is involved -- but do you think that by not asking them your ego will disappear? If your ego is involved, then ask them so I can hammer your ego. You say, "Many questions arise and I find that I know the answer already" -- but how do you know that your answers are right? Ask them, so that you can know whether your answers are right or not. You say many questions arise in you but they have been asked many times before. Does that help you? Many people have loved before -- are you going…

Osho, whenever someone tells you that such-and-such is happening in meditation and you say, “Good, that is auspicious,” the ego grows even more. And at all other times the ego keeps raising its head. Even while writing this question the ego thought a lot about it, and still...?

And I tell you: only the shadow remains with you; you have lost the soul. Imagine what your plight must be! Losing a shadow caused such trouble; you have lost the soul and kept only the shadow. But perhaps you don’t notice much trouble because those among whom you live have also lost their souls. The truth is, if you gain your soul, the trouble begins—those without souls become your enemies. Otherwise, why would people stone Mahavira, insult Buddha, crucify Mansoor, poison Socrates, kill Jesus? The crowd is without soul. Whenever a soul-full person stands among them, they become very uneasy. What foolishness! They should learn from the soulful how to become soulful. But seeing a soulful person, they get anxious. They say, “His presence proves we failed to become what we should have become. We lost.” Anxiety arises: “Our life is wasted. Remove this man; his presence is a…

Osho, what is the fundamental anguish of human life?

There is only one anguish: that a human being cannot become what he was born to be. There is only one anguish: that the seed remains a seed and does not bloom like a flower; that it cannot scatter its fragrance to the infinite winds; cannot converse with the moon and stars; cannot offer its colors to the sky; cannot be expressed. If the poem within the poet cannot be revealed—anguish. If the painter cannot paint—anguish. If the dancer cannot dance—if chains lie on his feet—anguish. Anguish means only this: that what we are meant to be—our innate nature and destiny—does not come to fruition, and we are forced to be something else. Then anguish is born. Then melancholy gathers over life. And all those countless people you see burdened with sorrow, living in a kind of hell—the reason is only this: each has come carrying the seed of becoming…

Osho, you said... then you will find that the devotee is God. The question arises: if one devotee prefers to be God and another wants to remain only a devotee, then which of the two is superior?

The one who wants to be God will not be able to be. And the one who wants to remain a devotee will become God. The question of superior or inferior does not arise, because only one of the two will happen. The one who does not want to be will be. The one who wants to be will be deprived. That very wanting is of the ego. But the matter is a little delicate. Sometimes humility too belongs to the ego. Beware that your humility may not be of the ego. Perhaps you are saying, “No, I don’t want to be,” because you know that those who refuse are the ones who attain. Then you are clever. Then your humility is adulterous. Your humility is not pure, not sacred, not virginal—it is like a prostitute. The one who wants to be God, whose ego says, “I must become God,”…

Osho, does the ego have some elixir of life? Even on the verge of dying it seems to revive—who knows from where, how, and why?

Haven’t you seen that the harder it is to obtain the woman you fall in love with, the more your love seems to grow? Had Majnu got his Laila, you would never even have heard his name. The whole crux of the Majnu-Laila story is that he never got her. Quite possibly, had he got her, they would have ended in divorce. Stories proceed in strange ways. Because he did not get her, he kept weeping, aching, wandering deserts and mountains, calling “Laila, Laila!” Have you ever seen any husband doing that? Ask a husband and perhaps he hasn’t even properly looked at his wife’s face in twenty years. You too are a husband or a wife—try this: close your eyes and try to recall your spouse’s face. You will find it difficult. The faces of film actresses will come, but your wife’s face will not come clearly. And if…