Bhang

Question: The final question: Osho, do you also drink alcohol? And there is nothing else truly worth drinking. For years I haven’t drunk water—that much I can assure you; for ten years at least I haven’t touched it. I drink soda and wine. Soda on the outside, wine on the inside. I believe in balance—a little of the outer, a little of the inner. There is a wine that has never been distilled; toward it no one has ever been able to gaze. There is an elixir like that. I drink this undistilled wine. I live on this unseen elixir! And I want to make you drunkards too. Bhakti means wine. Shandilya means a drunkard. The devotee’s temple is a tavern—intoxication, sweetness, mellowness. Drink the Divine; then no other wine will remain worth drinking.

Osho, please don’t talk about wine, for heaven’s sake. Can’t you find some other metaphor for devotion to God?

Islam says streams of wine flow in heaven. One should ask: what will you do with those streams? Here you teach people, “Do not drink; those who drink will go to hell; they will not reach paradise.” The arithmetic seems clear: those who do not drink here, who have renounced life’s colors, who are not householders—dispassionate, dreary souls—will go to heaven. But what will they do there with streams of wine—those who have never drunk? O preacher, you do not drink, nor can you make anyone drink— what is the point of your pure wine? These lines are significant. They mean that if you ever want to enter the life of God, do not enter in gloom. In this life, wherever, however, in whatever measure—even if fleeting—taste the joys that arise. In that taste, feel also the taste of God. It is a drop, true—but even the drop is of…

Osho, Gurdjieff used to ply his disciples with abundant alcohol to know their innermost being. And when they got intoxicated he would listen carefully to what they said. Why don’t you do the same?

Krishnatirth, you silly fellow! And what do you think I’m doing? I pour it every day—morning and evening. What Gurdjieff poured was gross; what I pour is subtle. And the intoxication of the subtle goes far deeper. The gross can only reach the gross. Grape wine cannot go beyond the body. But there are other wines that go beyond the body. Those I am giving you: there is the wine of music, the wine of silence, the wine of meditation. And the supreme one, the Vedas called soma. Centuries have passed—countless people have been searching for soma. Scientists have tirelessly investigated in the ravines and mountains of the Himalayas: from which plant was soma produced? To this day no one has discovered how soma was made, what soma was. They will not discover it either—because soma is not something gross. Soma was obtained in the presence of the seers, by…

Someone asked just yesterday, “Osho, do you strain bhang every morning? Your words feel so sweet!”

“We had heard of Adam’s leaving Paradise, But from your alley we came out utterly disgraced.” Indeed, all come out disgraced. Only he departs with honor who leaves knowing himself. This alley becomes meaningful only for those few who recognize themselves. Amrit Priya, know yourself. Do not waste time. I tell you: life is a great joy, a great celebration. Life is an eternal song with no beginning and no end. But your life, as yet, is a seed. Give it the soil of meditation. Rain on it the water of love. Let the rays of effort fall upon it. Protect it with awareness. It will not take long—soon the sprout will come. Soon spring will arrive; the honeyed month will arrive. It can happen in a single instant—what is needed is urgency, an intense inner longing. Remember the difference between longing and desire. Desire is outward; longing is inward.…